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cinnaminsvga · 3 years

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a love that endures | Yoongi

→ summary:

“Oh come on! Just go say hi to him already,” Seokjin huffs. He wiggles his eyebrows, striking you with the urge to shave them off in retaliation. “I could feel your ‘God, I miss his dick’ vibes from across the room!”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

“Say no more,” Seokjin interrupts, a wicked smirk gracing his lips. His gaze is fixed somewhere behind you, but you have a sinking suspicion you know why he looks like he’s won the lottery. “Speaking of the devil, look who’s coming over to say hello!”

{or alternatively: Yoongi and Y/N. Y/N and Yoongi. High school sweethearts that were never meant to last, until a reunion ten years later manages to reignite a flame that never quite burnt out.}

→ genre: high school reunion!au, exes to lovers, fluff, humor, minor angst → warnings: shy!yoongi and shy!oc live rent free in my brain, mutual pining is poggers, hoseok and seokjin aren’t evil for once in a cinnaminsvga fic, implied smut so it’s pg-13 because i’m a wimp → words: 14.4K → a/n: SHE’S ALIVE!! this is dedicated to @himbeaux-joon who commissioned this piece ages ago. thank you again for requesting this because this was honestly so much fun to write. i’ve been in a bit of writing slump these past few weeks but this fic came out so easily and got way longer than expected (perhaps because it’s about yoongi and he’s always been the easiest one to write for me). enjoy!! ;o;

The mere sight of him is enough to knock the wind out of you.

Your body freezes, the hand curled around your paper cup filled with punch tightening ever so slightly. It isn’t like you’re surprised that he came; you aren’t supposed to be. Of course, you should have expected his arrival, but you’ve been hoping all night that he might have been too busy to attend.

He isn’t even on time—it has almost been two hours since the event started and you had been filled with a false hope that perhaps he had RSVP’d and decided he couldn’t make it.

You had seen Hoseok, his best friend from your younger days, standing outside the entrance of the ballroom before they had started letting people in. The moment Hoseok saw you, he immediately came over to sweep you into a tight hug, his infectious laughter ringing in your ears. He had greeted you happily, expressing how much he missed you since high school, but never once bringing up the elephant in the room.

It wasn’t like you were going to bring him up first. No, that would be weird on your part. Nevermind the fact that going to high school reunions was a recipe for reliving past traumas and seeing all your childhood friends either married or pregnant—you weren’t going to be that person who asked where their ex was. You refused to be the person craning their neck to spy on the entrance every two minutes, hoping to catch sight of an old familiar face.

The problem is that you are that person, and you kind of hate yourself for it. However, it is also the reason why you are probably the only person in the entire ballroom who notices his quiet arrival.

He has never liked causing commotions, which is often apparent from the way he conducts himself. He walks into the room just as a loud round of applause breaks out; an old schoolmate of yours is walking up to the podium, probably the person who had arranged the get-together in the first place. It is a perfect distraction for him as he slinks past the door, keeping near the wall so as not to be seen by anyone just yet.

(Except he has been seen—he just doesn’t know it yet.)

You do not know for how long you stare at him, just that it takes you a moment to realize you haven’t taken a breath since he stepped foot into the same space as you. You take a deep, shuddering breath, forcing your racing heartbeat to calm down. You swallow thickly, throat so unbearably dry that even drinking from your lukewarm cup of punch doesn’t seem to do anything.

But the undeniable truth is there, standing only a few meters away from you, and nothing on earth will be able to wash away the nerves flooding through your system.

After ten years of radio silence, Min Yoongi is in your orbit once again.

In the grand scheme of things, ten years wasn’t all that long. Four years in university had passed by in a blur, and the absolute chaos that ensued right after you graduated as you scrambled to secure a job and move out of your hometown had made the days seem shorter than they actually were. You had not even noticed that time was passing until you found that cream envelope waiting for you one day after work, your alma mater’s school crest painfully recognizable even after all these years.

During all that time, the world around you shifted without you noticing, and that meant people were changing too.

He might have grown a little taller since then, something you are sure that your brother will find amusing. His hair isn’t dyed like you remembered, as he has opted to keep it his natural dark black that you have not seen since you were both in middle school. It’s styled differently too: combed over and gelled back, with his bangs pushed back and his forehead exposed. When he turns his head to the side, a gasp spills past your lips before you can stop it.

“Is that a fucking undercut?” you mutter in shock, your eyes straining out of their sockets as you try to drink him in. Even under the dim lighting of the ballroom, his new haircut is hard to miss. No one else seems to be undergoing the same mental collapse as you, judging by how everyone’s attention is still fixated on the person speaking at the podium. How the hell is no one else losing their fucking minds to the sight of Min Yoongi with a fucking undercut? Some questions are impossible to answer, you surmise.

When you decided to attend the reunion, you had not once thought about how Yoongi would look like. Somehow, you had developed this stagnant picture of him in your head, even after all these years. To you, he will always be the boy with the stark blonde hair, the mismatched eyelids, the pouty lips, the dumpling cheeks. He is the boy who can’t wear his own contact lenses to save his life, the boy who sometimes wears his favorite leather jacket to sleep, the boy who only drinks Americanos like it was water.

Gone are those days, you realize. That image of him has been smashed to pieces, instead replaced by this dashing (and incredibly hot) man—a stranger. A stranger with unbleached (and healthy) hair, a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. He has his glasses kept away, and there is no leather jacket in sight.

But you can see him, if you look hard enough. The same spark in his eye, the same curve of his lips. You catch him smiling for a second, and his cheeks still puff up like dough. Maybe it’s just hopeless thinking, but you see him. It’s still him. To you, he will always be your 18-year-old Min Yoongi, the one who would greet you with a sweet kiss on the forehead every time you would—

Raucous applause breaks you from your train of thought, and you blink rapidly in surprise. You have to forcibly pull yourself out of your Yoongi-induced trance, clapping alongside everyone without really knowing what was going on. All of the extra noise sounds like buzzing in your ears, especially when it is drowned out by the roar of your blood rushing to your head all at once.

“Once again, I’d like to thank you all for coming tonight. We will begin the program right after dinner, so please feel free to help yourselves to the buffet! Cheers everyone!” You faintly hear your old schoolmate speak, before her voice is quickly overrun by the commotion of people walking over to the extravagant display of food. It takes a moment for the crowd of heads to disperse, so when you can finally look back to where you last saw Yoongi, he is no longer alone.

Hoseok has his arm slung around Yoongi, his infectious laughter loud enough to be heard over clinking plates and silverware. The two are as different as night and day, with Hoseok practically bouncing from excitement and Yoongi rolling his eyes from annoyance. But it is easy to see that his pout is nothing but a ruse; you can already catch the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

You feel your own seams breaking, unwittingly sporting a grin of your own. It is nice to know that Yoongi hasn’t been alone all this time, that he still seems close with his old best friend. You cannot count the number of friendships that you have lost over time, and you still grieve many of them during your quiet moments. Alas, it was often never even anyone’s fault, the strains of adulthood often being the biggest deal breakers in your relationships.

That is, of course, except for one.

“Enjoying yourself? I didn’t think we’d share the same voyeuristic tendencies,” says a voice, creeping up behind you. Now, normal people would not usually expect other sane people to invade your personal space and breathe directly into your ear, but that’s just your humble opinion. What you do know is that one certain individual enjoys breaking the mold when it comes to societal norms, and it is none other than…

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You shriek, nearly sucker-punching the offending degenerate in the face. You hold back your fist from connecting with his face, but your resulting irritation remains. Whether that irritation is because you regret holding back or not will unfortunately also have to remain unanswered. “Oh God, it’s you.”

“Oh, no need for that. Most people usually call me Seokjin,” he snickers, thoroughly enjoying your flushed face. Kim Seokjin pats you on the shoulder, his trademark “pretty boy” smile still as radiant as you remembered. It does nothing to quell your urge to raise your fists again, however. “Hello, Y/N. Fancy seeing you here!”

“The feeling is not mutual,” you snort. Much like how Yoongi was with Hoseok, your derision is nothing but a rouse. As much as you want to kick Seokjin in the nuts, you also cannot ignore how much you want to hug him the slimy bastard—but you definitely will not be the first one to admit it. So like the tsundere that you are, you decide to insult him instead. “Why are you here? You’re not even from this class. Don’t you have other things to do? Or rather, people to do?”

“My heart! You wound me,” he gasps, grasping his chest as though he’d been shot. “How could you say that to your best friend in the entire world? Don’t you know how much I missed you?”

“Easy. I do it because the only other alternative would lead me straight to prison,” you shrug, but your grin betrays you.

This time, you don’t jolt away when he closes in for a hug. “And I guess I miss you too,” you say, your words slightly muffled into his chest. Like always, he sees through your prickly act because as much as you like to pretend, Kim Seokjin is kind of amazing—loose bolts and all.

“It’s nice to know that your tongue hasn’t lost its edge, though I suppose I wouldn’t be intimately knowledgeable in that area. After all, I still am very much a raging homosexual and pussy isn’t really my forte,” Seokjin guffaws, his volume causing a few nearby guests to raise their heads in alarm.

You bow at them, sheepishly apologizing on his behalf before grabbing him by the collar.

“Will you stop being embarrassing for just one second? I swear, I thought I retired from my babysitting job when I graduated high school,” you hiss, but the way his mouth curls up with mischief is answer enough. God, you missed this son of a bitch.

“Unfortunately for you, being a pest is part of my DNA,” he smirks, carefully plucking your hands off from his neck, as though your nails were not mere inches away from ripping his trachea into pieces. “Though, I am offended by your assumption that I am still the same slut that you knew. I’ve grown up a little, you know! I’m a changed man!”

“Oh, please. Don’t tell me you of all people have settled down,” you laugh, not missing the way Seokjin’s perfectly stenciled brow raises slightly.

“I know we haven’t seen each other since Christmas, but come on Y/N! You of all people should be applauding me for my improved behavior! You must have noticed how much I changed when I visited.”

“When you visited me last Christmas, you immediately insulted my taste in kitchen towels, went on Grindr to find a hookup despite my numerous pleas, and promptly desecrated my guest bedroom that no housekeeper or priest is willing to exorcise to this day,” you gag, shuddering at the memory. “And then you ate all my ice cream and proceeded to clog my toilet!”

“Um? Aren’t you forgetting that I also bought you that dress you wanted? Rude,” Seokjin retorts, not the least bit remorseful. “Well, that’s what you get for agreeing to be my best bitch for life. You know that I take pinky promises very seriously.”

Unfortunately, he does take his promises seriously. It is probably the only thing he’ll ever be serious about, as much as the man enjoys parading his depravity. “Okay, whatever. I’ll bite. Who’s the unlucky man you’ve managed to deceive into a relationship?”

“Oh, it’s someone we both used to know. I’m his plus one for tonight,” he says, supplying you with the most useless non-answer imaginable.

“Seokjin. We’re at a high school reunion. We know everyone here. That could be anyone!” you exclaim.

“Well, isn’t that fun? Then we can do a scavenger hunt!” Seokjin grins, clapping his hands together excitedly. He pulls you in front of him, forcing the two of you to survey the crowd. “Okay, hold your arm out like this—” After a few seconds of you failing to resist him, he manages to get you to unfurl your finger as if you were about to order something from the dollar menu at McDonalds. Unfortunately for you, the tall twink is stronger than he appears. “—and just keep pointing around until I tell you that you’re getting warmer!”

“Seokjin, I don’t think this is very—” you start, but Seokjin is already moving your arm for you. Like a hurricane, Kim Seokjin listens to no one but his own homewrecking whims.

“Park Chanyeol? Close, but not really. You should know that I don’t double dip with past flings,” he says, shifting you to the left. “Kim Namjoon? Now that’s a hunk of meat that I wish I’d taken a bite of, but unfortunately he’s as straight as a ruler. Pass,” he hums, continuing to move you bit by bit.

You’re both getting uncomfortably close to where Yoongi is, and Seokjin doesn’t appear to be stopping any time soon. You did notice that Yoongi had come dateless to the reunion (a fact, by the way, that you did not rejoice over when you had noticed), but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s single. You have known Seokjin for more than a decade at this point, and despite your odd friendship, you are sure that he would never do anything to hurt you on purpose.

Though, that does beg the question… How far does his dick thirst really go? Maybe you’ll finally find out today.

“Warmer, getting warmer…” Seokjin inches you closer and closer to where Yoongi is standing. You feel frozen in his grasp, unsure if you wanted to know anymore. If Seokjin really is dating Yoongi, then what? It’s not like you were dating him anyway… What difference does it make if it’s Seokjin?

(It makes all the difference, but you refuse to think about it.)

“Nope, not Wonho... A little bit to the left… Bingo!” Seokjin declares, stopping your finger right on— “No, Y/N! Stop moving! You’ve gone too far to the wall! I was pointing at him.”

“H-Hoseok? You’re dating Hoseok?!” You squeak, an avalanche of relief flooding through you. You don’t even have the energy to pretend to be composed as your entire body starts untensing involuntarily, your shoulders slumping as though a weight has been lifted from you. “Why couldn’t you have just told me like a normal person? Why must everything be tortuous and dramatic when it comes to you?”

“I am a naturally insufferable and theatrical person. Sue me,�� he shrugs, greatly enjoying the exhausted look on your face. “What? Were you actually scared that I was dating your sloppy seconds? What do you think I am? An asshole?”

You stare at him. “Is that a rhetorical question?”

Seokjin scoffs. “If I wanted to get roasted, I would approach two tops at a gay bar.” He pauses. “Wait, are you seriously not going to congratulate me for finally snagging a boy who has a functioning moral compass?”

“Define ‘snagging.’ Did you, like, tie him up and blackmail him to become your boyfriend like those terrible One Direction Wattpad fanfics, or—” You stop halfway, giggling at your friend’s unamused pout. “Okay, okay. Yes, Seokjin. I am very proud of you. Congrats on finally becoming an adult. Your hoe days are over.”

“Who said they were over?” He snorts. Noticing your alarm, Seokjin rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Oh, don’t give me that look! I’m not into infidelity and you know that. I just meant that I’m still a hoe with significantly fewer options.”

“How did that even happen in the first place?” you say, jabbing your thumb in Hoseok’s direction. Thankfully, the man in question is still busy talking to Yoongi, though you don’t know for how much longer. If Seokjin isn’t lying, then there’s a high chance they’re going to walk over to say hi and you’re not sure if you’re mentally prepared to go through the five stages of grief all over again.

“Believe me, I’m surprised as well. I started dating Hoseok after he asked me for help with his sister’s wedding gift. He asked me to help arrange an itinerary for her sister’s honeymoon in America,” Seokjin explains with a dreamy smile. He sighs, holding a hand up to his chest. You can physically see the heart emojis circling his head like a halo. “We hit it off from there and dare I say… Not only is he the only person who can keep up with my high maintenance lifestyle, but dear Lord, he could totally be recruited into the NDA for his astounding dick game—”

“Ever heard of TMI? Gross,” you interrupt, your face crumpling in disgust. You shove him away when his loud cackles start rattling your eardrums.

“You were scared though, right?” he says through his giggles. “When you thought that I was dating Yoongi?”

Of course Seokjin had noticed your mini-mental breakdown, judging from the shit-eating grin on his face.

“N-no,” you stutter, but your heated cheeks and averted gaze give you away. “E-either way, I wouldn’t have cared if you did!” you say. You know, like a liar.

“I bet you don’t care that Yoongi got significantly hotter in the past ten years too, huh?” Seokjin teases, snickering loudly. Under the harsh lighting of the fluorescent chandelier lights, you might have mistaken the boy in front of you for the devil instead of your best friend of almost twenty years.

“I sincerely rue the day I introduced myself to you in the third grade,” you hiss, sipping from your cup to hide your humiliation.

“Aww, you’re so cute when you’re all embarrassed,” Seokjin coos, pinching your cheeks with the gentleness of an ape. You slap his hand away, unable to think of any retort.

“Cat got your tongue? You didn’t even deny it when I accused you,” Seokjin laughs. He claps his hands jovially, acting as though he’s enjoying a show at the circus. Given your performance tonight, that statement isn’t all that far from reality.

“I don’t need to defend myself from you,” you say, puffing your cheeks indignantly. “I just… think he looks handsome. Is that illegal or something?”

“Certainly not. Though, you might want to dial down the pining a teensy bit,” he singsongs. “That’s how I found you in the first place. I sensed your pining from a mile away and came as soon as I could!”

“I wasn’t pining!” you exclaim. “I was just… admiring the plant beside him.”

“Right, sure,” Seokjin says, arching an eyebrow in challenge. You feel your hackles rising at his smug expression, your ‘Seokjin-is-about-to-ruin-your-life’ alarm ringing in your ears. “So, you wouldn’t mind if I brought you over there to say hello? After all, my boyfriend is over there and as much as I enjoy pestering you, I also want to be with him very much.”

You whistle lowly, impressed. “Wow, that’s actually kind of sweet of you.”

“Yes, I know. Kim Seokjin’s heart grew three sizes that day, yada yada yada.” Seokjin says sarcastically, but his lovesick smile ruins the effect. When he opens his mouth once more, the mirage instantly disappears. “But you would understand if you saw how much he’s packing—”

“Shut up, I didn’t ask—”

“Fine, then let’s ask the man himself! Besides, you know you’re being ridiculous, right?” Seokjin tuts, annoyed. He fixes you with a glare, making you feel like a scolded child. “It’s just Yoongi. You and I both know he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body and probably would love to see you after so long.”

You wave your hands around helplessly, almost sloshing your drink onto a nearby bystander. After muttering a meek apology at your harried classmate, you turn back to Seokjin with a defeated sigh.

You know that he’s right, and you absolutely hate him for it. “Jinnie, I’m a mess! I can hardly think with Yoongi standing meters away from me, much less if he were to stand right in front of me! I’m just going to embarrass myself,” you lament, holding your head in your hand.

“That’s true. You will definitely embarrass yourself,” Seokjin hums, nodding sagely. He shrugs his shoulders. “All the more reason we should do it. Relax, I’ll be your wingman like old times! All we have to do is remind him of all the fantastic, mind-blowing coitus you had in your youth and he’ll be a goner for sure.”

“If by goner, you mean he’ll be gone from my life permanently this time, then you’re right,” you groan. You have a half a mind to dump the remainder of your disgusting punch all over his expensive Bottega Veneta coat, though you also don’t want to spend the next three months receiving packaged turds from Seokjin in your mailbox. “Please, just let me suffer in silence for the remainder of the night, okay? Is that really too much to ask?”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

Swiveling around, you see that your intuition is right: Yoongi and Hoseok are swiftly making their way through the crowd, one of them appearing to be more enthusiastic than the other. You swallow thickly, your palms growing damp as they get closer to where the two of you stand.

"Seokjin, we gotta go!" you hiss, but your panic goes largely ignored as your best friend leaves you to envelop his lover in a dramatic embrace.

The two men exchange teary and heartfelt touches, acting as if they had been separated by years of war instead of the meager minutes they had spent apart to greet their long-time friends.

"My honeybunch! Oh, how I've missed you so much!" Seokjin cries, nuzzling his nose into Hoseok's neck. You might have mistaken him for a vampire with how aggressively he sniffs Hoseok's skin. Had Seokjin been 5% more unhinged, you do not doubt that he might have started suckling on his boyfriend like a leech.

"Oh, hyung. It's barely been an hour, but why does it feel like it has been forever?" Hoseok sighs forlornly, jaw clenching as though he's in pain. He croaks out a sob, lifting Seokjin in the air and spinning him around. "My love, let us never part again!"

You take a few steps away from them, trying to make it apparent to all the bewildered onlookers that you have nothing to do with homosexual Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

"What kind of shitty production is this? I want my money back," you murmur, fake-gagging behind the two of them. The lovesick fools pay no mind to your disgust; in fact, they seem to relish in it. Their efforts double, their theatrical kissy-smoochy sound effects causing goosebumps to form on your arms. "Seriously, I've had enough of this and I've only been forced to witness it for two seconds."

"Tell me about it," says a voice to your left. Startled, you nearly let out a shocked gasp when you realize that Yoongi had found his way by your side, his own disgusted gaze fixed on the bumbling buffoons still lost in their world. He glances at you for a second, quirking his lips into a small smile. "Hey, Y/N."

In just six words, Min Yoongi manages to make time grind to a halt. You gape at him, your brain ceasing in function. It takes you a full minute to realize that the man standing beside you is not a figment of your imagination. You had been so caught up in the absurdity of the situation that for a moment you had forgotten that Yoongi is a real person.

It's Yoongi, your first love. The person you haven't seen or spoken to in years. The man who has haunted your dreams for over a decade. He's standing right beside you, and he's smiling at you. He's here, he's hot, and he's saying hello.

Like the incredibly eloquent and profound person that you are, you reply: "Yellow!"

You had meant to say "Yoongi, hello!" like a normal person, but your brain had amalgamated your words during its rebooting process. And so, you are left standing there silently, frozen by your embarrassment. You swear you can hear a pin drop as you beg for the earth to swallow you whole.

Unfortunately for you, the floor remains painfully tangible beneath your feet, forcing you to clear your throat and expound on your mystifying exclamation. Yoongi watches you with curious eyes, patiently waiting for you to speak.

"W-what I meant to say is, uh," you stammer, your cheeks heating up to an alarming degree. "Those yellow streamers are pretty tacky, don't you think?"

Nice one. In terms of comebacks, you would personally give yourself a C for effort. (Note: C stands for "Can I please shove a fist up my ass and crabwalk the fuck out of here?")

Yoongi contemplates the tacky decorations in question, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I guess. They pretty much look like the stuff we'd make in elementary school during Arts and Crafts." He points to your mutual friends, grimacing in annoyance. "Them, on the other hand? No child should ever come into contact with those heathens."

"You're right," you snort, shaking your head.

There is a long and awkward pause. Yoongi clears his throat, swaying from side to side while staring at his shoes. You aren't any better, twiddling your thumbs as you will your cheeks to stop flushing. Your senses are practically screaming at you to run away and hide forever, but your limbs feel disjointed from the rest of you.

It's like we're at the zoo on a date and the monkeys won't stop fucking each other, your mind unhelpfully supplies, offering you an image that will permanently make its home on the backs of your eyelids.

Desperate to break the silence, eventually you say, "Hey, Yoongi—"

Right at the same time, Yoongi says, "Hey, Y/N—"

Another pause, but this one is slightly less tense. The two of you share a nervous laugh, though yours sounds a little bit more hysterical. You motion for him to speak first.

"I, uh... wanted to say that you look great. Yeah. Like, you haven't aged a day at all. N-not to say that I don't think you've matured or..." Yoongi stumbles over his words, his voice cracking.

Instead of feeling relieved that he's just as nervous as you, his anxiety only exacerbates your own. There's a reason you have never been good at public speaking, and this is a good example of why:

"No! I get what you mean, don't worry about it," you laugh, on the verge of a mental breakdown. What the fuck is this conversation, even? "You look exactly the same too. Umm... Of course, except for the, uh, hair?"

"Oh, you mean the gray hairs?"

"No, no! Of course not! I m-meant your hair looks really hot—I mean good! It looks GOOD," you repeat, frantically emphasizing the last bit. You had instinctively panicked, your voice rising in pitch. If your cheeks weren't flaming hot already, then they're definitely redder than Seokjin's ass after a Friday night of fun.

The apples of Yoongi's cheek match your own flustered state, though you can imagine that you’re probably at least a hundred times worse. “Well, thank you. I was actually feeling self-conscious about my hair, so hearing that from you is really… nice,” he says, brushing his hair shyly. “I’m kinda done with bright colored hair for now, so seeing my hair in its natural state is still kind of weird.”

“I seriously doubt that Y/N was talking about your hair color, Yoongi,” Hoseok interjects, magically reappearing behind you when you don’t notice. You flinch in surprise, causing him to let out a hearty chuckle at your jumpiness. It seems that today is “Let’s scare the living shit out of Y/N” day with how many people have crept up on you in just one night.

Beside him, Seokjin looks like a bomb ready to explode, his fist jammed up his mouth to keep his guffaws from slipping out. “God, this is even better than the cringe compilations I watch on Youtube,” he wheezes, wiping a stray tear.

“Don’t be so mean to them, hyung! Don’t mind him,” Hoseok says to you, bowing apologetically. He smiles cherubically at Yoongi. “See, Yoongi? I told you that Y/N is even hotter up close!”

“God, fucking kill me,” you hear Yoongi groan.

“So, have you guys caught up yet, or have you just been fumbling around each other like a couple of horny teenagers?” Seokjin snickers, narrowly avoiding your heel stomping his foot.

“We’ve only just said hello. Leave us alone, jackass,” you huff.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Well, Hoseok and I can go on our merry ways if you wish—”

“Yoongi! Did you tell Y/N about your work back in Seoul? I bet she’d love to hear about it,” Hoseok interrupts smoothly, saving you from further embarrassment (courtesy of his infuriating goblin of a boyfriend.)

You blink in surprise, turning to the man in question. “You live in Seoul now? Did you move there after finishing university?” you ask.

“Well,” Yoongi starts, clearing his throat. He’s permanently pink at this point, not that you mind in the slightest. He always did have the cutest blush (and once upon a time, you used to love teasing him about it.) “I sort of dropped out of university early. Decided it wasn’t really my thing, you know?”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Yoongi. You were a fantastic student. I’m sure Y/N remembers how smart you are,” Hoseok says, winking inconspicuously at you.

You force out a laugh in response. You know perfectly well what he was trying to do; Hoseok isn’t slick in the slightest, though you do admit that you are intrigued to find out what Yoongi had done over the years.

It isn’t like you haven’t been keeping tabs on him. In your defense, it’s hard to stay away from news about Yoongi when he’s such a big deal. So what if you’ve watched a couple of his interviews and streamed all of his songs? He’s always been talented with music, and all the radio shows seem to agree. You couldn’t get away from him if you tried (and it’s not like you were trying very hard, anyway.)

Yoongi shrugs, rubbing his neck bashfully. “E-either way, I decided to tough it out, you know? Follow my dreams and all that, even if it nearly killed me.”

“And now, he’s working in a famous idol company as one of their head producers,” Hoseok finishes for him, chest puffing up in pride. He slaps his best friend on the back, not noticing that he had inadvertently caused Yoongi's spine to cave in from his strength. “Yoongi is so cool, and humble too! He’s been working behind the scenes for a bunch of big names and never got greedy for attention even though he totally deserves it.”

“Damn, so no street cred? Bit schewpid, innit? Imagine all the chicks you could’ve landed, bruv!” Seokjin says, imitating a terrible British accent. You make a move to hit him in the groin, but for once, Hoseok beats you to the punch.

“Nope! Yoongi-chi is super single, aren’t you?” Hoseok says with a sweet grin, ignoring the pained groans of his lover on the floor.

“No need to rub it in, Seok-ah,” Yoongi grumbles defensively. He coughs into his fist, grinding his foot into the floor. He throws a glance your way. “Just been… too busy, I guess.”

From the floor, Seokjin holds up a hand, grasping at Hoseok’s pant leg to hoist himself up. “What a coincidence. Y/N is super single too. In fact, her pussy is so dry that there’d be no chance for any yeast infections to develop—WAIT, DON’T HIT ME AGAIN I PROMISE I’LL BEHAVE!” Seokjin is on his knees, holding his arms up in surrender as Hoseok’s boot is about to connect with his stomach.

“I know I said I was into BDSM, but not like this!” Seokjin says, faking a sob.

“Then behave, darling,” Hoseok replies, eyes lighting dangerously. When he returns his attention to you, you and Yoongi back away instinctively. “Sorry about him. We have an… arrangement,” he says, waving his hands vaguely.

“Understood,” you both say, not understanding but also not wanting to.

Seokjin manages to straighten up eventually, his skin slightly paler than it was before. “A-as I was saying,” he exhales, still gingerly cupping his crotch. “Y/N has been single for so long, but I don’t blame her. Not after that awful disaster of a boyfriend, right? God, Sungjae fucking sucked ass, and not even in the sexy way.”

“Um, yeah…” you say hesitantly, avoiding eye contact. You can feel Hoseok’s and Yoongi’s eyes trained on you, but you’re not confident enough to know that you can keep your face neutral.

With your gaze averted, you don’t notice the way Yoongi’s posture tenses. “Is that so,” he says carefully.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Hoseok says. You can hear the genuine sadness in his tone, and you chance a peek at him. He pats your shoulder gently, giving you a soft smile. “Honestly, I feel you. I’ve definitely been there, done that. That’s why I’m grateful for Seokjin-hyung, believe it or not. He’s been really good for me.”

“Hah, I told you I’m a good person!” Seokjin says. Again, he goes ignored.

“It’s fine. It’s all water under the bridge,” you say, shrugging. You can still feel Yoongi’s persistent gaze on the side of your head like a brand. You’re kind of afraid to see what sort of expression he has despite the curiosity burning inside of you.

You are still in the middle of debating if it’s worth explaining or not (and to a lesser extent, why you feel like you need to explain yourself to anyone), everyone’s attention is caught by the onslaught of waiters bringing in a fresh batch of food to the buffet. Your stomach growls in response, and you are reminded of the fact that you haven’t eaten since breakfast in preparation for tonight’s event.

“Hold that thought, Y/N,” Hoseok says, holding up a finger. “Hyung! I saw a platter of tuna belly and I know that shit is gonna disappear in two seconds. Let’s head out!” He tugs Seokjin in a hurry, the elder’s gangly legs flying about as he trips over himself to keep up. Seokjin yelps and hollers for him to slow down, but the hangry Hoseok train stops for no one. They run off, leaving Hoseok-and-Seokjin-shaped dust clouds in their wakes.

“Wow,” Yoongi says, dumbfounded. “Did we just get ditched by our two self-proclaimed best friends in the world?”

You nod, equally dumbfounded. “I guess we did.”

He shakes his head. “Fucking traitors.”

And just like that, the conversation dies.

Without your friends acting as buffers, the pair of you return to your painfully awkward states. You rack your brain for a conversation topic, anything to keep the tension at bay. You don’t feel nearly comfortable enough to ask him about his love life, even though you want nothing more than to shake the details right out of him. For perfectly sane reasons, of course.

Lucky for you, Yoongi thinks of a solution. “Um, I guess we should go grab our food as well? I’m assuming we’ll be sitting together since our friends are... you know. Unless you don’t want to, then that’s also perfectly fine with me. I can find somewhere else to sit.”

“I’d love to sit with you,” you say, cringing at your choice of words. Love to? What are you, desperate?! your brain screeches at you, and you mentally beat yourself in the coochie.

Deep down, you know that you’re overreacting, but you can’t help acting like a blushy teenager talking to your crush when you’re around Yoongi. It’s almost as if you’ve reverted to your high school days, back when you’d both started to notice your feelings for each other and the steady flow of butterflies erupting in your stomach had felt less like a burden and more like a revelation.

After tossing your disgusting drink into a nearby bin, you and Yoongi line up behind the rest of your classmates for the buffet, the scene reminiscent of having lunch at your old high school cafeteria. You’re still mildly distracted by Yoongi’s proximity, not looking at what food you were getting and randomly scooping and hoping you don’t dislike all of them.

From the corner of your eye, you notice that Yoongi’s plate is steadily piling up, probably with enough food to feed two people. You’ve never known Yoongi to be much of a heavy eater, but you suppose that free food is still free food at the end of the day.

“So,” Yoongi says after a beat. He pulls you from your trance, and you catch the small smile on his face that tells you that he figured you had been distracted. “How is Jungkook, by the way? He graduated from university a year ago or something, right?”

You pause, your hand stilling on the metal tongs. “How did you know he graduated last year?”

He shrugs. “Well, assuming that he didn’t take any gap years, I did the math and figured he should be at the age where he’s looking for a job.” He turns to you with a sly grin. “Plus, I’m still his friend on Facebook.”

“That’s surprising,” you comment. You backtrack a little, “And I mean it’s surprising in the sense that… All his posts are reshares from dank meme pages and I thought you wouldn’t be into that.”

Yoongi laughs. “I’m not. But… it’s nice to know how things are back home, I guess.”

Do you wonder about me, too? you think, but you internally shake your head. But why would he? He doesn’t owe you anything.

“And your dad? I heard he got hip surgery last fall,” Yoongi says.

“Wait, Jungkook has been posting about our dad’s surgery on his Facebook?”

“Oh! No, not exactly.” Yoongi clears his throat, suddenly nervous. He heaps a big portion of kimchi, some of it staining his sleeve. “I… called him a few days ago, to catch up.”

You’re staring at him, and you dimly register the people lined up behind you huffing impatiently. “You… called him? You have his cell number, too?”

“No, I just… happen to still have your home telephone number memorized and hoped that you guys hadn’t moved,” he says, a little guiltily.

You’re silent for a moment, thoughtlessly scooping more bean sprouts onto your plate than any sane person would be comfortable eating. The two of you inch along the buffet display as you attempt to process his sudden confession.

On one hand, you’re slightly betrayed that your own brother hadn’t thought to mention that your ex had called him, but on the other hand, what would you have done if he did? Ask if you could say hello? The Y/N from last month probably would have laughed if she had known that Min Yoongi still cared enough to call and check on her family, much less have her landline memorized even after all these years.

He still cared.

Unbeknownst to everyone in the room, your heart skips a beat at the thought. You cradle a hand to your chest, urging your nerves to quell. Keep it together, you beg your stupid, naive heart. You can survive one night without falling in love again, can’t you?

...can you?

“I…” you stammer. You swallow thickly, desperate for something to say, anything to stop your mind from going in the wrong direction. “They miss you, you know? You have no idea how many times my parents ask if you’re coming home for Christmas, or—I don’t know.”

“Yeah, my parents are the same. They always wanna know if I’m coming home for the holidays, and they,” he hesitates, swallowing thickly, “They always ask about you, too.”

Oh.

“Oh,” you mutter lamely. Your cheeks feel like they’ve been lit on fire the moment you got here, and you haven’t even visited the bar yet.

You finally make it to the end of the long buffet table where there is a large chocolate fountain just begging for you to ravage if only your stomach wasn’t besieged by butterflies. Yoongi glances at you, his own hands too full to get any desserts, but he still pauses as if he’s waiting for you. When you make it apparent you aren’t interested in the mouthwatering cakes and pastries (a big fat lie, but you also don’t want to vomit in front of him and your hundreds of schoolmates), he raises a brow as though he’s surprised.

“What? I’m not that much of a sweet tooth,” you scoff.

“This is coming from the girl who broke into her little brother’s piggy bank to buy some ice cream from a passing street vendor?” he teases.

“That’s the old me. Now, I make enough money to buy my own sweets,” you say smugly.

He rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say.” If you didn’t know any better, you might have thought he looked endeared.

The pair of you search for Hoseok and Seokjin, only to find that the couple had somehow found a table for all of you somewhere near the back. With one last longing glance at the wondrous chocolate fountain, you walk away with Yoongi in tow. You have to push through throngs of people, a few old familiar faces stopping to say hello before they notice the precarious situation on Yoongi’s plate and let you through. You wave at them, promising to greet them later before turning to Yoongi.

“Isn’t it kind of weird to see all these people again? Not gonna lie, it’s almost hard to recognize a few of them.” You note some of the crazy hair colors and drastic fashion choices that you never thought you’d see a decade ago. An even stranger sight, however, is the occasional schoolmates with little ones attached to their hips. You recognize one of the new parents, your mouth dropping in shock.

“Wait, is that Seulgi? And is that her—”

“Her son? Jesus Christ,” Yoongi mutters, equally as bewildered as you. “Damn, I did not expect her of all people to be one of the first to have a kid. I’d always thought it’d be Sooyoung.”

You nod in agreement. You observe the little boy tug roughly at her skirt, his tiny fists making grabbing motions at the cookies on her plate. “Yeah. I always thought I’d have a kid before Seulgi, at least. What a surprise.”

You speak before you think, and it takes longer than it should have for you to realize your mistake. By then, Yoongi’s expression had already morphed into astonishment, his eyes bugging out as he chokes on his spit.

Your cheeks are burning, your mouth opening and closing as pure panic seizes you. You cannot believe that you just said that! No fucking way! Did you eat lube this morning or something? Why are words just spilling out of your mouth at an unprecedented rate?! You’re begging your brain to come up with something, anything, to control the damage, but alas your thoughts remain resolutely frozen.

If aliens were to choose to study the human race right now, they’d be sorely disappointed to find the lack of intelligent lifeforms. No complex thoughts going on over here! Not one goddamn neuron firing in this bitch!

“O-oh, well, that’s…” he trails off. He clears his throat, his jaw clenched as he awkwardly tries to feign composure. “I didn’t know you were, um, interested? Well, n-not that I think you were averse to the idea of having kids, since I remember you mentioning it when we were, um,” he pauses, struggling to find a word other than dating, or together, or in love, or not painstakingly careful around each other, like every conversation topic was a fucking minefield.

“Younger?” you supply. A safe, neutral word. Yay for you! You deserve a snack from your animal care keeper right about now.

“Right,” he nods. He looks down at his shoes, revealing his flushed neck. He’s frustratingly adorable like this, but it does nothing except distract you. “Were you, um, planning on having a kid with your ex-boyfriend? Before you broke up?”

Ex-boyfriend? Why is he bringing him up all of a sudden? You stare at him in confusion for half a second before realization strikes you. Thankfully (or unthankfully), it seems that Yoongi misunderstands the implication behind your words and has taken your little slip-up the wrong way. For once, you are so thankful that Yoongi almost failed Math during the 10th grade and never learned to put two and two together.

“Definitely not,” you bark out a laugh, but it sounds incredibly forced, even to your own ears. You stare at the plate of food in your hands, a wave of unpleasant memories washing over you. “I doubt he’d ever want kids, anyway. Seokjin used to make fun of him and call him the world’s biggest toddler.”

Yoongi winces, his brow furrowing. “How long were you together?”

“Like, two years?” You shrug. “It felt longer, to be honest. Even if we dated for so long, I could never imagine myself having a family with him,” you say.

It was almost the truth, but not quite. While your ex-boyfriend had undoubtedly been a pain in your ass, he wasn’t completely bad, especially in the beginning. You had enough self-respect that you would have ended the relationship earlier if he didn’t have any redeeming qualities. The main problem was that he had a tough act to follow, and you don’t think any man on earth would be able to live up to your lofty expectations at this point, not when you’d constantly be comparing everyone to—

Yoongi speaks up again. “Seokjin seems to really dislike him. Was he really that bad?”

“Seokjin has never really liked any of my past flings,” you admit, rolling your eyes. (You fail to mention that Yoongi has always been the only exception.) “Despite his own disgustingly high body count, I can’t say he was wrong. Sungjae was a self-centered prick who never gave me the time of day. Hell, I was almost thankful when I caught him cheating. It was the final push I needed.”

Even though it’s been so long, the pain of seeing your ex-boyfriend locking lips with a stranger he had randomly picked up from the street still throbs inside of you. It wasn’t like you were particularly sad or surprised to find out, but you’d always been a bit sensitive to people who kept secrets from you. Plus, it kinda sucked to know that they had fucked on your favorite Egyptian cotton sheets.

“Fucking bastard. If I ever saw him in person, I’d definitely kick his nuts ‘til he’s left with a concave crotch,” he seethes, eyes narrowing.

You laugh. You have to confess that the mental image is satisfying. “You don’t even know what he looks like though!”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m sure Seokjin would tell me if I asked,” he huffs. He mutters something else after, but his volume drops to a whisper and you have to step closer to properly hear him.

“What? Sorry, I missed that,” you say, but you could have sworn he said something like “I wouldn’t have done that if it were me” but you couldn’t be completely sure.

“N-nothing,” he stutters, waving off your confusion. He tacks on a smile, but you can tell that he must have been embarrassed by whatever he’d said. If it was anything like what you thought he’d said, then you could understand. It wasn’t like he was wrong, anyway.

He makes a move to rub the back of his neck, but he greatly underestimates the weight of his platter and nearly drops everything. Something deep inside of you kicks in, and your body instinctively moves to hold his plate with your free hand, saving him from a very messy situation. However, that also means that your hands are now touching each other, your fingertips grazing his knuckles.

Instead of letting him go like a normal person, your ape brain makes the first move (as per usual).

“Your hands are still cold,” you say dumbly. You had wanted to say more, like “your hands are still as cold as they were from when we were younger,” but bringing up your past together, even for something so harmless, still feels taboo. You keep your hands where they are, your eyes locked on his. It feels like you’re in the middle of a dramatic TV show while I Will Go To You by Ailee plays in the background. You can almost imagine the numerous ads for random Korean cosmetic products framing the two of you in slow motion.

Yoongi chuckles, reluctantly pulling away from you. You already miss the sensation of his skin on yours. “I guess some things never change, huh?” he says, wavering slightly. He stares at you for another moment before shaking his head, as though he’s pushing away some unwelcome thoughts. He turns away, leaving you behind to make his way to your table.

Despite the unbidden emotions bubbling up your throat and threatening to spill over, you have no choice but to follow.

At the table, Seokjin and Hoseok speak mutely with each other, though the exaggerated expressions on both their faces tell you that they had been in the middle of an argument. When Yoongi takes his place beside Hoseok, the couple pauses in their bickering to greet you.

Hoseok looks at Yoongi’s overflowing plate. “Dude. I know I teased you about being a skinny twig a while ago, but I wasn’t implying that you gorge yourself.”

Yoongi jolts in surprise before staring back at his plate. Weirdly enough, he looks just as shocked as Hoseok to find the amount of food he had gotten, as though he hadn’t even noticed.

Perhaps he was just as distracted as you had been? you think, staring at your own meager pickings. Oops, you definitely didn’t get enough food to fill your ravenous appetite.

“That’s fine. I can share with you guys,” Yoongi says.

Seokjin peers at your plate, smirking knowingly. “Oh, yes. I’m sure Y/N would love to get some of your food. It seems like the two of you either over or underestimated how much you’d eat.”

“Aww, cute!” Hoseok coos, pinching Yoongi’s cheek. “You still have the habit of getting food for her. That’s so sweet that you still remember that about her!”

You had been in the middle of taking a swig of your water, but Hoseok’s comment nearly causes it to spew out from your nose. You cough harshly, beating your chest as your nose burns, among other things.

“Hoseok!” Yoongi scolds. He hits his friend on the shoulder, but Hoseok’s giggles refuse to stop.

“Oh shit, you’re totally right! Remember all those times when either one of us was forced to third-wheel with them?” Seokjin guffaws. “Y/N always orders something gross whenever we eat out together, and Yoongi ends up having to share half of his food with her when she starts moping.”

“I did not mope!” you retort vehemently.

“You kind of did,” Yoongi mutters under his breath, but you catch him this time.

You cross your arms, scowling. “Did not!”

Yoongi covers his mouth to fake a cough, but you can tell he’s smiling from how his eyes start to crinkle.

“You guys are so cute,” Hoseok sighs, squeezing Yoongi into a hug. Yoongi paws at him weakly, but you know that he enjoys skinship too much to push his friend away. Still, he pouts cutely, his cheeks puffing up like a pastry.

“Anyway, why were you guys arguing a while ago?” Yoongi asks, changing the subject. “Seokjin-hyung is kinda red in the face.”

“Oh, we weren’t really arguing. Hyung had gotten some wine from the bar but he forgot to get me some,” Hoseok says. He glares sharply at Seokjin. “Bastard.”

“You just said we weren’t fighting!” Seokjin whines. He stands up, raising his arms in surrender. “But fine! I’ll go get your damn wine,” he sulks, groaning when he stretches his back and a few worrisome pops resound from his joints.

“Damn, hyung. I know I told you that I hope you grow up well when we were kids, but I didn’t think you’d take it that literally,” Yoongi jokes, earning a sharp laugh from you. Yoongi glances at you then, visibly proud when he catches the wide grin on your face.

Seokjin gasps, offended. “I am not old! I’m literally a year older than you guys! And here I was, about to get you both drinks as well! It sucks to be the nice one in a friend group,” he sniffs.

“Yes, we are eternally grateful for your service,” Hoseok says sarcastically. “Oh, and remember to get some drinks for Y/N and Yoongi-chi too!” Hoseok adds, slamming his palm on Seokjin’s sore back.

Seokjin yelps, before biting his lip. “Owwie, that hurt,” he moans, winking salaciously.

As the closest person to him, you make it your right to jam your heeled foot onto his gelatinous and push away with a shout of disgust. “Leave, wench!” you snarl, but you’re unfortunately drowned out by his cackling. Even so, he does make his leave, affording your table some level of peace.

“So,” Hoseok starts, a twinkle of mischief in his eye. He cradles his chin with his hands, smiling innocuously at the two of you. “How’s it goin’? Are you both having fun?” he says, laced with meaning.

Ah, you had forgotten; peace was never an option.

Though he is undoubtedly less annoying than Seokjin, you still don’t trust the way he’s staring at you, like he’s waiting for one of you to jump into the other’s lap and recreate his favorite porn scene.

(A terrible thought to have, especially when you’d probably be as begrudging as you should be if you were swayed sufficiently.)

“It’s going fine, thank you very much,” Yoongi responds, giving his best friend a stern look.

You nod wordlessly, unable to trust yourself to keep from stammering and making your frayed nerves apparent (if they aren’t already.) You grab your glass and busy yourself with your drink to delay answering.

You don’t notice that you had taken Yoongi’s cup by accident until you’ve already gulped a third of his water, dropping it with a loud clunk. “Oh shit, sorry! I didn’t mean to drink from yours,” you say sheepishly.

Yoongi smiles at your concern. “No worries. It’s just a cup.”

“Sharing cups too? Damn, what happened while Seokjin and I were away?” Hoseok laughs. Yoongi flicks him lightly on the wrist in retaliation.

“It’s just a cup,” he repeats before turning to you. “Sorry, I think he’s a bit drunk.”

“Haven’t had a single drop of alcohol but whatever,” Hoseok says, shoveling a large piece of tuna belly into his mouth.

The sight of him eating reminds you of your own hunger, your food slightly colder now after talking to Yoongi and your friends for so long. You take a spoonful of chicken, the taste not terrible but not as good as you would like. Your face must give your disappointment away because you hear Yoongi chuckling beside you.

“Bad food again? Guess you really are the same,” Yoongi says, low enough that Hoseok wouldn’t hear. He pushes his plate towards you, carefully nudging some of his bulgogi onto yours. “This tastes kind of sweet, so I’m not really into it. But you prefer it sweeter right?”

All you can do is nod in agreement, watching as he piles your plate with his food. His sleeves, which had already been stained previously by some stray bits of kimchi, become even more saturated with sauces and oils. Now that you see it up close, his sleeves seem a bit too long for him, his palms half covered like sweater paws.

Without thinking too hard, you place your hands over Yoongi’s wrists, his entire body freezing as he waits for what you will do. Gently, as though you’re approaching a frightened kitten, you fold his sleeves until they’re no longer dangling into his food. The gesture is more intimate than you had intended, his proximity allowing you to smell the familiar fragrance of his cologne.

Paco Rabanne, your mind reminds you. Of course.

You pull away, trying your best to appear as unfazed as possible. You clench your hands and dig your nails into your skin to keep them from trembling. “If I’m the same, you’re no better. You always used to forget to pull back your sleeves before eating.”

After a beat, Yoongi returns from his stupor, licking his lips. “My hands were cold,” he explains.

“I know.” You lick your lips too, suddenly parched despite all the water you have drunk.

A forgotten treasure trove of memories resurrects inside of you, things that you had thought had been buried too deep for you to find again. You are filled with this odd feeling, an awareness. An old wound has resurfaced, one that you thought had healed long ago.

That wound throbs, still.

It’s so strange, being with him like this. A piece of your past that has come to your present, both the same and different as you remember. He knows parts of you that no one else will, as do you with him. But those parts were only ever supposed to stay buried: memories, after all, aren’t supposed to be tangible.

And yet, here he stands: real, alive, close.

It leaves you feeling emptier than before.

The atmosphere grows somber after that, neither of you offering much to the conversation. Hoseok is more than happy to pick up the slack, filling the stark silence along with the occasional hums from Yoongi. When Seokjin returns, he makes no note of the change in mood and focuses more on eating and talking with his partner. It allows the two of you to remain deep in thought.

You are pushing your remaining bits of food around your plate when the soft instrumental music playing on the overhead speaker stops abruptly, and the sound of a microphone being tapped prompts everyone to turn to the front of the ballroom. The host of the event announces that the next part of the reunion will begin shortly and encourages all the performers to head to the sound booth to prepare. A couple of your schoolmates rise from their seats, most of whom were the students you remembered being part of choir or band.

You half-expect Yoongi to stand up as well, but he stays rooted to the spot. Apparently, Hoseok is wondering the same thing.

“Yoongi? Didn’t you say that the organizers asked you to perform some of your songs?” Hoseok questions.

“They did.”

“But?”

Yoongi brings his fingers to his teeth, biting on them anxiously. Your hand makes a move to pull them away, but you think better of it. No need to supply your friends with more teasing ammunition. “But I changed my mind last minute. I felt kind of embarrassed to be performing my own songs. I’m more of a producer, not a performer.”

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, Yoongi. You’re poggers, as the kids like to say,” Seokjin pipes up.

“I wouldn’t put it like that, but he’s right. A lot of people like your music and think you’re a great performer,” you assure him. “And I like your music, too,” you add shyly.

Yoongi’s hand drops from his mouth, eyes glittering with disbelief. He looks like he wants to disagree with you, but eventually decides to just smile in gratitude. “I didn’t know you listened to my music,” he says quietly.

Before you can reply, Seokjin chooses to interrupt with his migraine-inducing cackle and ruin the moment (as he is prone to do.) “Oh bitch! If you only knew how much this girl loves your music. She even buys your physical CDs AND collects your photocards.”

“I do not!” You scream, flinging a piece of bread at his head. You refuse to peek at Yoongi.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I collect his photocards too. Wanna trade sometime? I’m missing the one when he still had mint hair,” Hoseok giggles.

“Will the two of you stop? God, it’s like you both had been planning to embarrass us as much as possible,” Yoongi exclaims, incensed.

When neither of them responds, you and Yoongi whip your heads towards them only to find two self-satisfied, smirking shitheads.

“Why watch reality shows when you can make your own?” Seokjin says in lieu of an answer, pointing finger guns. He blows you a kiss with a wink.

You clutch your chest, pretending to wince in pain. “Augh! Poison damage!”

Seokjin scoffs. “Swagever, man. You’re just mad because you’re angry,” he retorts, sticking out his tongue.

While you were occupied bickering with Seokjin, you had not seen that one of your old schoolmates had invited herself to your table. She sandwiches herself in the space between you and Yoongi, bumping you roughly enough to topple you out of your chair.

“What the fuck?” you yelp in surprise, holding onto the table to balance yourself. After straightening back into your seat, you find that your view of the world has become obscured by asscheeks the size of beachballs.

“Hi Yoongi,” she purrs seductively. Or at least, what she thinks is seductive. To you, her voice sounds like nails grating on a chalkboard.

“Hello?” Yoongi says, but it comes out sounding more like a question. It’s clear that he doesn’t remember her name, as he searches your eyes for help. You shrug unhelpfully; you deleted almost all the names of everyone that you had gone to school with right after graduation. Besides, her horrendous plastic surgery makes it even twice as hard to discern her identity.

“Hi Hyejin,” Hoseok speaks up, answering your unspoken question. Oh, right. The name does ring a bell, somewhat. You don’t recall her looking like a cartoon character before, but you suppose beauty standards are meant to be subjective. Maybe she wanted to look like a One Piece character.

Hyejin purses her lips into a tight smile but doesn’t return his greeting. She turns back to Yoongi, bending forward until her boobs are practically smooshed against his face. You wonder idly if stabbing her chest with your chopsticks would cause them to burst like a balloon, or perhaps drain like a puss-filled pimple. Both, you surmise, would be very entertaining to watch.

“It’s been a while since we’ve last seen each other, hm? I heard you’ve been very busy ever since we graduated from high school,” she says, batting her eyelashes.

“Uh, yeah? Some of us have jobs,” he says, passively dissing her. You let out a strangled laugh, causing Hyejin to aim a glare back at you. You bring your (his) cup of water to your lips, feigning innocence.

Hyejin rolls her eyes. “Right. But I meant that you’ve become a real star back in Seoul! I didn’t know you were such a musical prodigy!”

“I’m really not. I just work hard,” he shrugs. He’s visibly uncomfortable, especially since Hyejin was pretty much breathing the same air as him. Every time he leans away from her, she takes it as an invitation to come closer. He is nearly lying horizontally at this point, his back parallel with the floor.

“Humble as well as handsome? My, my. I didn’t think you’d be such a charmer,” she laughs, saccharine sweet. She twirls her dyed brown hair with her perfectly manicured acrylic nails. You rub at the goosebumps forming on your arms, cringing at the phantom sensation of her nails digging into your skin.

“Just spit it out. What the hell do you want so you can leave,” Seokjin interjects. Everything about his demeanor says calm and collected, but the way he presses his lips into a thin line says otherwise. You can sense the air dropping in temperature, despite the embers burning behind his eyes.

“I came over here to ask if Yoongi could give me his autograph, that’s all. I am his biggest fan, after all,” she sulks. She winks at him for extra measure. “And maybe his number too? I’d love to discuss your music with you sometime!”

“Oh, um. That’s—” he cuts off, hesitant to answer. He tugs at his ears nervously, exchanging subtly alarmed glances with you.

You remember that signal very distinctly; it’s a distress call that he would do whenever he needed a way out. He used to do it a lot when you were at social gatherings, especially when people would trap him in boring or awkward conversations. He never did like socializing with people outside his circle, but he was often dragged to parties by his more extroverted friends.

He might be hot as hell with his stylish clothes and jaw-dropping undercut, but he’s still awkward as hell around strangers. When the universe created him, they made sure to keep everything in balance. If they hadn’t been fair, you certainly would’ve died much earlier.

“Yoongi, don’t you have spare CDs of your music?” you quip, dragging Hyejin’s attention onto you. Her eyes narrow imperceptibly, suspicious.

“I do?” He stares at you blankly.

You resist hitting your forehead in exasperation. “Yes, Yoongi. Remember? You left a couple of them in my car.”

Yoongi’s eyes light up in understanding. “Oh, right! I left my CDs. In your car. That we drove here. Together. We came here. Together. Yes, correct.”

From your periphery, you can sense Hoseok barely holding onto his sanity after witnessing that pitiful display. Who can blame him when Yoongi’s infamously terrible acting skills are having their first appearance in over ten years? How he managed to pass Drama class is still a mystery to this day.

“Yup,” you say, popping your p. You give Hyejin a winsome smile, your hands folded neatly on your lap. You can almost see the steam blowing out of her ears. It fills you with delicious satisfaction. “Why don’t Yoongi and I go get them so he can sign one?”

If her eyes had been made of lasers, you’d be a cauterized mess jumble of organs by now. Can’t say you would regret it either way.

“How kind of you.” She sneers. “Also, I wasn’t aware that you two were still a thing.”

“I wasn’t aware that we were required to inform you of anything,” you retort placidly. You plaster on your fakest grin. “Now, if you can please move your fat ass—I mean, if you can please move out of the way so I can go to my car...” you trail off, gesturing for her to leave.

After a few more indignant sputters on her end, she eventually makes her exit. She throws a couple of poisonous glares, but they go largely ignored by you and your friends. With her gone, you feel as though you can finally breathe fresh air again.

“Great stuff, Y/N! Congrats on winning your first bitch-off,” Seokjin chirps, back to his usual self. You roll your eyes at his antics but smile nonetheless.

“Thanks. I learned from the best.”

Yoongi clears his throat. “So, are we still gonna go?” He looks back and forth from her to you. “Just so we can pretend you actually have my albums in your car?”

“Trust me, Yoongi-chi. She does have your albums in her car.” Seokjin titters. “I wasn’t kidding about the photocard collection.”

“Ignore him. And yes, I do have your albums. I listen to them in my car from time to time,” you say, attempting nonchalance. “I’d hate to give them away to that bitch, but if it keeps her away...”

Away from you is left unsaid, but it’s heavily implied.

(No, you aren’t jealous. You’re above jealousy. It’s not like that bitch would ever have a chance with him anyway, unlike you—!

Woah there, cowgirl. Let’s stay on the right path. Don’t want your heart getting chewed up and spat back out all over again, do you?)

“I’ll just mail you a new one. Signed, if you want. You can probably sell it on eBay or whatever.” He tries to say it like a joke, but his brow is too furrowed to be convincing. (You want to kiss him there and make it go away.)

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so all you do is nod mutely. You stand up and Yoongi follows suit.

“We’ll be right back. If she comes back before then, tell her to scram,” you tell Hoseok and Seokjin. They salute you in response (well, Hoseok does. Seokjin does a very rude gesture with his fingers that is supposed to mimic something explicit. Feel free to use your imagination.)

The walk to the parking lot is a quiet one. The two of you stay side by side, his strides naturally matching your own. Unlike before, you don’t feel the need to fill the silence for once, content to just be in each other’s presence.

The hotel that your reunion is being held at is unusually unpopulated. The lobby consists of a handful of employees milling about, a few of whom look ready to fall asleep on their feet. You nod politely at the bellboy who opens the main doors for you, declining his offer to call the valet service to fetch your car.

“Just hand me my keys. I’ll look for my car in the parking lot.” It wouldn’t be hard to find, anyway. Your beat-up Toyota Corolla looks as though it’s been through three wars and then some.

It isn’t long until you find it parked close to the entrance. You unlock your car from the passenger seat, shimmying the glove compartment open to reveal your collection of CDs.

“Wow, you weren’t lying when you said you listened to my music,” Yoongi says, voice loud amidst the tranquil night. It startles you, and you accidentally knock over some of the albums onto your car floor. On top of the pile lies Yoongi’s most recent album, the one you recall he had released a couple of months ago.

Strange, how just hours ago you were listening to his music on the way to the reunion, only for the boy on the cover of the album to be just inches away from you.

“Yeah, well. You’re a pretty good artist,” you say.

“Only pretty good?” he repeats, amused.

“Don’t push it,” you snort. You grab the album on top, waving it in front of him. “This should be good enough, right?”

He plucks it from your grasp, an unreadable expression clouding his eyes. He chuckles, but there’s an edge of sadness in his tone. “Good enough,” he agrees solemnly.

His sudden quietness is different from the peaceful one before. It’s sorrowful, maybe regretful. He looks like a man stuck in grief.

“Did you know that I didn’t finish this album before releasing it?”

The question seems a little out of the blue, but you answer regardless. “No, I didn’t. They don’t sound unfinished to me.”

“The songs themselves aren’t unfinished,” he explains. He turns the album over, his finger running down the back where the tracklist is printed. “One of my songs never made it in.”

“Couldn’t you have delayed the album launch so you could complete it?”

He shakes his head. “It was actually the first song I finished out of all of them.”

“Then..?”

“It didn’t matter, at the time. I wrote it for someone specifically, but I didn’t want to put it on the album if she—they didn’t listen to it. It wouldn’t matter if the whole world heard that song because only they would understand it.”

“But now? What changed?” Fear and hope run down your spine in tandem when the question tumbles out of you. You hold your breath, and the world shifts from its axis.

But he doesn’t elaborate further.

x x x x x

You return to the hotel after acquiring both an album and some more tension. The album feels heavy in your hands, weighed down by secrets you are still too afraid to uncover. Not that Yoongi would ever willingly divulge them to you—because revealing them would make them real, and making them real would mean you would have to accept them, and accepting them would cause you to—

“They’re gone,” Yoongi announces when you reenter the ballroom. You can’t spot your table from the entranceway, but the certainty in Yoongi’s tone makes you believe him.

“No fucking way. Did those two little shits ditch us to exchange body fluids or something?”

Yoongi grimaces. “Please don’t say it like that. It’s bad enough that I was sitting close enough to Hoseok a while ago that I got accidentally footsie’d by Seokjin hyung.”

You wince, placing a pitying hand on his shoulder. “God didn’t make us his strongest soldiers.”

Yoongi tries dialing Hoseok a few times, but none of the calls connect. “Just my rotten luck,” he groans. He types angrily into his phone, worry creasing his forehead. “He was supposed to be my ride back to his place.”

“Seokjin isn’t answering his phone either,” you say apologetically. “How much do you wanna bet this is part of their evil scheme to leave us together?”

“I don’t doubt it in the slightest,” he deadpans. He sighs tiredly, rubbing his temples. “I suppose I can take a taxi there, but I also don’t know if he’ll be home to open the door for me.”

“Then why don’t you just stay with me?”

You don’t know what you’re doing.

In your head, the offer makes sense. He’s just a friend, you remind yourself. Nothing is stopping you from rekindling a friendship with him. You have purely platonic intentions. Friends help each other out.

Never mind the fact that your heart hasn’t stopped fluttering the entire night. Never mind the fact that you’ve caught yourself staring at him just as many times as you’ve caught him staring at you. Never mind the fact that you don’t want the night to end, not now not ever.

(Never mind the fact that you’ve never quite stopped loving him.)

So when he accepts, you convince yourself that offering had been the right thing to do.

(Maybe. Hopefully. You just wish your heart doesn’t end up as collateral damage.)

The drive home is short, thanks to the late hour. You had asked him if he had wanted to stay until the end of the reunion, but he had declined. “Nothing else left for me there,” he says.

You feel as though he’s hinting at something. Your grip on the steering wheel tightens. “At least I get to keep my album.”

Yoongi laughs, short and sweet.

As much as you try to fight it, sitting in the car with him brings up a lot of memories.

The two of you in the backseat as his older brother drives you to his house for dinner, backpacks filled with crumpled notes and loose pens, a promise of an intense study session for your upcoming exams ready to be broken. You remember how the sky would turn orange in the afternoon, the warm light streaming through the car window and washing Yoongi’s skin with a soft glow.

His cheeks had looked inviting, his lips even more. And you would lean over, kissing him like it was easy. Because it was easy, and you never had to think twice about it.

Your trip down memory lane doesn’t end in the car. As you walk up the steps to your childhood home, you hesitate by the door, your keys frozen over the lock. You can hear Yoongi’s soft breathing behind you, but his presence doesn’t feel as stifling as you thought it would be.

You’re far from being at ease, but you aren’t frightened either. Mostly, you’re just filled with anticipation. Of what? You aren’t sure.

“Excuse the mess. Jungkook is in the middle of moving out so there’s just stuff everywhere,” you say just as you open the door. You toe off your shoes by the entrance, kicking them off haphazardly into the pile of sneakers and boots.

You hear Yoongi huff out a laugh behind you. “Aish, that kid. Still hasn’t let go of his Timbs, huh?”

“He has also been really into chunky sneakers these days. I think he’s finalizing his transformation into Thumper,” you joke. “He’s staying at his new apartment for the weekend with my parents, so you won’t be seeing them. They’re helping him settle in.”

“Really? He didn’t mention moving when we spoke. Where is he moving to?”

“Busan. He and his best friend from college are going to start a restaurant in his hometown. Which is funny, since neither of them are the best chefs.”

Yoongi whistles. “Still, that’s impressive. I can’t remove the image from my head of when he was a kid. He was so scared of anything. He wouldn’t let go of your mom’s leg even if his life depended on it.”

He steps deeper into the house, his gaze jumping from end to end as he surveys your childhood home. You watch him, noting how right he looks standing there in the middle of your living room, like a chipped painting that has been restored.

It’s scary, how easily you’ve accepted him back into this place.

He stays rooted to the spot, the moonlight filtering through the kitchen windows and illuminating his frame. The air pulses with something magical, something dream-like, and it muddles your vision. It’s the only explanation you have for why your chest tightens when he turns to face you, with a gaze filled with sadness, mourning, yearning.

“Jungkook’s height chart is still here,” he murmurs. The small nicks on the kitchen door frame are hard to see, and other people have mistaken them for signs of wear and tear. But he knows what they are because he was there when your mother had etched the first scratch.

He looks at your ancient dining table, his hand brushing over the surface. “This too,” he says, rubbing at a large burn mark on the wood.

“Mom made sure to use placemats after that. I didn’t think a sizzling plate would burn through the table like that,” you say, giggling as you reminisce. “You know, we still use your mom’s galbi jjim recipe. We haven’t found a better one.”

“I’m sure she would love to hear that,” Yoongi smiles, but it fades just as quickly. “It’s so… strange. Being here again and seeing that nothing really changed.”

But things did change. Upstairs, in your bedroom. That night, ten years ago.

You still remember what you had said to him, when you had said it to him, how you had said it to him.

It was a sunny afternoon, the time of day when you’d be on your way home from school. The two of you had stood in your room, neither of you wanting to sit because sitting meant staying, and staying only made this harder.

There hadn’t been many tears in that moment; those were shed only after the realization had sunk in, when you’d fully understood what had happened. At the time, the decision had been as easy as breathing.

Except you had both been drowning. The clock was ticking down to the end of high school, and the inevitable wasn’t slowing down.

Yoongi wanted to chase his dreams in Seoul. You wanted to stay closer to home, with your friends and family.

You weren’t going to be the one to hold him down. You weren’t going to be that person, not when he’s destined for greater things than his hometown could offer—not even a girl who loved him would be worth staying for.

He had suggested it, first. He had been prepared for you to cry, or maybe scream, but you did none of that. Instead, you pulled him close, hugging him tighter than you ever had before. You wanted to make it last, imprint the sensation onto your brain so that his warmth might stay with you, even after he’s little more than a distant memory. You trembled, terribly so, even though the beginnings of summer crept on your skin like a brand.

It’s time to let him go, Time whispered. You refused to listen, just for another moment.

Let me have this last moment, you beg. But Time refused to listen.

“Do you know?” Yoongi had spoken into your neck, had hoped his words would stain there. “Do you know how much I love you?”

Love, not loved. “I did,” you say. You think better of it. “I do.”

When you separated, for good this time, it had left an ache deeper than you could have ever imagined.

But you were young. Young love was supposed to hurt, but it wasn’t supposed to last. “You’ll find others,” your mother had said, brushing a soothing hand through your hair as you sobbed.

Then why? Then why has it lasted this long?

It has been a question you’ve asked yourself, and you’re starting to think that the answer has always been right in front of you.

The answer is standing in front of you: real, alive, close.

“Why didn’t you ever date again?” you ask. You ask even though you know he can lie, if he wants. He can tell you anything and you would believe him.

But he wouldn’t; you know he wouldn’t.

“I was afraid of closing a door that I never meant to close in the first place,” he says. His voice crackles like static, but that might be the blood rushing to your head. He moves toward you but keeps a hand’s width away. Still too far.

He continues. “After that day, when I left,” he swallows, “after I left, I think… I think I left a piece of me with you. A-and I don’t think I ever stopped…” he cuts off, exhaling shakily.

“Stopped what?” you breathe.

“You know.” He waves his hands around helplessly. They fall heavily back down to his sides, defeated. “You know?” he repeats.

You do. Because you are the same. The old wound had never healed; it burns and it bleeds like new.

Your skull feels like it’s stuffed with cotton when you close the distance between the two of you. He circles his arms around your waist, tentative, but he relaxes when you wind your arms around his neck. Your vision is warped, so you choose to close them. You wait, with bated breath, as his warmth inched closer and closer.

The sensation of his lips on yours jolts you back to your senses. His kiss reminds you of your youth, of a love that had made you excited to start your day. Even now, your body remembers, and it rejoices.

The tenderness does not last long before it turns fervent, tongue and teeth crashing like waves against the shore. If his kisses could speak, they would tell you stories of how much he missed you, of how much he mourned the time you had both lost. They would tell you of the days when he’d almost pressed your number onto his phone, of the nights when he’d stare at the polaroids he had kept of you.

They would ask if you still love him like he still loves you.

He tastes of desperation, and you are likely to be the same. It is a desperation you haven’t tasted in years—but it doesn’t feel scary like it used to. Time no longer feels like it’s racing against you, like you had something to prove before the hour was over. This reckless abandon feels like home against your skin—it is an ache being soothed after having ripped your scabs over and over again.

It’s Yoongi.

And when he pulls you to your room, he doesn’t even need his eyes to find his way as his feet still memorize the floorboards. He struggles with the doorknob, forgetting that it always jammed, but it’s okay because you can always teach him again. You can teach him everything again.

The bed creaks under your weights and even the mattress sounds like it is sighing in relief. That sigh echoes from your lips when his hand slips under your clothes, his palm stopping over your heart.

“I won’t break it, this time,” he says. He promises. “If you let me.”

You wonder if he can feel your heart soaring, pounding against your ribs. “I think the line has long been crossed to ask for my permission.” You place your hand over where his is laid. You squeeze tight.

This time, you don’t let him go.

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coccinelle-et-chaton · 3 years

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hi i come bearing humanitarian relief from optygami

so like, yikes huh?

I didn't expect all the angst and that last scene absolutely DESTROYED me in the worst possible way. Anywhoo, I was so unwell that I dreamt a follow-up. This is a new level of brainrot. So, without further ado welcoome to another edition of

bullet point fics that i'll probably never write but I need to get out of my system: post-Optygami edition

After Optygami, Chat pretends he's ok but he's actually quite sad that Ladybug didn't need him to defeat the Akuma. Even more so, that instead of going for him, she went for Rena and Carapace.

lol Milk Bar scene 2.0.

He tries to hide it, but unlike other things that make him sad like oh idk, his entire family life, this is new. And he can't hide it because Ladybug was the one person that never failed to make him feel needed and wanted.

So, he's at school and he's looking sad and Marinette notices. She kicks into Supporting Friend Mode the way she's done with Zoé, Juleka etc. and asks him what's wrong. Adrien at first doesn't want to say, but Marinette gives her one of her Motivational Speeches™️ and convinces him.

Adrien says that it's hard to explain, but he feels like someone really loves is pushing him to the side and he feels like he is not needed anywhere.

Marinette will very much Not Have That

So she starts telling him all the good things she sees in him and how everyone, especially her, is lucky to have him around. And girl ain't even blushing or stuttering.

"Adrien you're always so kind and compassionate to everyone, you always make time for us even though your Father is so strict with you. You're always willing to give everyone the benefit of doubt, even when they don't deserve it. You're a great friend"

Adrien high key is tearing up btw

And my boy is so starved for affection that he's just. He falls for her immediately??? He never realized Marinette saw him like that??

He feels so acknowledged???????

also Nino sees and he reassures him as well.

"Whoever this friend is can go take a hike if they don't value you, dude. smh I'll throw hands for you."

appreciate the i r o n y

THEN...

Alya figures out Adrien is Chat Noir and she has that oh no moment. Without telling Mari why, she is ADAMANT that she tells Chat immediately about everything that has been going on with the guardianship.

"Trust me Marinette. Just trust me. You NEED to tell Chat about these things."

Marinette confesses she had not told him because she knows he's going to be very angry at her that she relied on someone else in her hour of need and she's scared she might lose him because lesser things have made him doubt himself to the point of returning the ring.

"Alya you don't understand," she says crying. "I know him. I know this is is going to hurt him so much."

Alya, out of curiosity, asks why she came to her and not Chat when things got too heavy and Marinette explains the incident in Chat Blanc and how absolutely scared to the bone she is that it might happen again. Not because she wouldn't be able to fix it, but because she couldn't bear seeing Chat being hurt like that again.

Eventually Marinette gathers the courage to tell Chat Noir and of course he's sad, heartbroken, angry and no matter how much Ladybug tries to apologize or reassure him that she trusts him, he simply can't.

Chat says he understands that she needed to lean on someone and it's her right to choose who that is.

"Don't worry m'lady, I understand. But... I need some time off. After all, something tells me you'll make do even if i'm not there."

BIG OUCH 😃

Marinette is devastated and recognizes her mistake and understands she is in no position to ask Chat to be there but that doesn't help the fact she's absolutely heartbroken.

As a civilian, Adrien notices Marinette is sad and talks to her. Mari cries bc she says she made a terrible mistake and she managed to really hurt one of the friends she loves the most and is scared she lost them for good.

Adrien consoles her and tells her she did the right thing by coming clean to them, and that she should have faith in her friend bc "friends fight sometimes Mari, it's normal, right? They will come around. You were honest with them, and that's what matters. They'll appreciate it eventually."

"Besides, e-even if they don't... I-i'll always be here for you"

"And if they don't, I'll personally go and punch your friend in the face"

aaaahhhh adrinette fluff.

And so, while ladynoir is crumbling to pieces, adrinette is like, VERY close to becoming canon but bc of what happened in ladynoir they refrain from showing their romantic feelings but are like, "No way I'm making the same mistakes again" so they become each other's closest confident (sans the whole Miraculous thing of course)

Adrien starts telling Mari about "this friend" and the problems in his family. Marinette start tellings him about "these responsibilities" and "this friend I have" and they unintentionally coach the other through how to proceed to heal the ladynoir partnership.

Simultaneously, Adrien's help lets Marinette understand how very much she loves Chat and him taking the break from Ladybug's company and replacing it with Marinette, lets him know how head over heels he had been for her all this time = tada! reverse love square.

They become super, super close friends. Like deadass ppl think they're dating (but what else is new smh)

"Ha ha, no. We're Just Very Good Friends™️" *they say as they're literally holding hands or snuggling on a bench*

Eventually Chat Noir comes out of his little break and Ladybug and him meet up to talk and it's like, an ugly crying sobfest ahaha :)

LB apologizes again and begs him to forgive her, she promises she'll do better and she'll show him how much she need him and--

"M'lady, stop. I already forgave you. It's all water under the bridge so--

"No! No it's not, because I can't believe I made you think you're dispensible. Chat Noir you're my partner and you'll always be my partner and I treated you like you weren't but I just... I couldn't tell you, Chaton. I couldn't--"

"But why? What couldn't you tell me, m'lady?"

LB breaks down and explains the Chat Blanc incident to him

"I was so scared. I was so afraid for you and so terrified that I wouldn't be able to bring you back. I'd never be able to forgive myself if one day I cannot bring you back, Chat. I want to know who you are but if knowing puts you at risk, then I won't do it. I love you more than I want to know your identity."

ajgkfahgfak gajfkk UGLY SOBBING.

"Then... that means we cannot be together... ever?" Chat asks and his voice is cracking because he's doing all humanly possible not to cry too.

"Not until Hawkmoth is defeated. I promise minou, as soon as we defeat him, we can be together. In the meantime, we have to keep the secret."

Chat Noir gently wipes off the tears from Ladybug and steps closer to her and goes "Then, m'lady, if you'll allow it, I'd like us to keep one more secret."

He leans down slowly, to give LB a chance to say no if she doesn't want it to happen, but she doesn't stop him. They kiss.

"This one stays between us," Chat mutters and then smirks at her. "See you in the next Akuma, m'lady."

The end.

#this came to me in a dream #my soul will not know rest until the season is over and i've come to terms with the fact this is my life now. this is how i live my days.#ml fanfic #ml flash fanfic #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug #ml spoilers #hurt comfort #ladynoir #adrinette #lovesquare #love square #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir

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tobesolonely · 3 years

Text

birthday dinner

summary: harry and y/n’s daughter turns seventeen and reveals she has a boyfriend within the timespan of like, 2 days, and harry cannot process it </3

a/n: this gif has nothing to do with the story i just think he looks so hot❤️ i literally wrote this all today it just came to me... kinda proofread but kinda not?!

warnings: no smut but like one very brief mention of sex, fluff, maybe like 1 angsty part? kinda? not really , mentions of drinking alcohol

word count: ~3.6k

my ko-fi! thank you :)

let me know your thoughts!!

When you and Harry excitedly told your family and friends almost seventeen years ago that you were expecting your first (and unbeknownst to you at the time— your only) child, you were both over the moon. The people in your life who already had children told you to cherish every moment, the good and the bad because she’d be all grown up before you knew it. You took everyone’s advice graciously but of course, as an expectant mom, there was no way for your mind to even think that far ahead.

Everyone was right, though.

Now your daughter, Mona, was nearly seventeen— you felt like all you did was blink and she was this independent, beautiful, young woman. She was the perfect mix of both of you. She had her father’s kindness, patience, and determination. She had your willpower, grace, and wit. Neither one of you could be any more in love with the beautiful human being you’ve created.

In the months leading up to your daughter’s birthday, you constantly badgered her about how she wanted to celebrate. She would always respond with a nice dinner with you and Harry— unlike her father she tended to shy away from attention— but Harry wasn’t on board with the idea of anything that wasn’t a ginormous party.

“She doesn’t want that,” you told him one evening as you were setting the table for dinner. “You know how shy she gets. She’s not like you.” Harry rolls his eyes at your comment.

“I feel like tha’s supposed to be an insult, but I’ll ignore it,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed. “You only turn seventeen once. We gotta do somethin’ she’ll never forget.”

“Well, we’re not the ones turning seventeen, hmm? That was quite some time ago if I’m not mistaken.” Harry gives you a cheeky grin.

“So happy she’s not anything like us when we were seventeen. ‘Member all the shit we used to get into when we were her age?”

You laugh, shaking your head as you recall memories from your teenage years. “Yeah, we’re raising an absolute angel compared to what we were.” Your husband hums in agreement, walking the short distance to the dining table to snake his arms around your waist from behind.

“Speaking of our little angel,” he places wet kisses to your neck. “Still got a bit of time until she’s home from volleyball practice, haven’t we?”

You move away from Harry, giving him a warning look. “You’re insatiable, I swear! I’m still recovering from last night,” Harry laughs at how dramatic you were being. “We’re not as young as we used to be, y’know.”

“Oi, don’t remind me, love,” he places a quick smack to your butt, walking out of the room before you can reprimand him.

Just as you finish tossing the salad and reach for your phone to check and see where your daughter is, she walks through the front door, tossing her sports gear in a messy pile at her feet.

“Mom, dad,” she calls loudly. “I’m home!”

“You don’t have to tell us,” Harry calls back from upstairs, probably in his office. “Can smell you from all the way up here.”

You giggle silently to yourself, already able to see the look of annoyance on your daughter’s face. She rounds the corner and appears before you in the doorway of the kitchen, her curly hair a mess and her face slick with sweat.

“Hi mom,” she chirps sweetly, a dimpled grin on her face. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving, mom. Our coach made us run sooooo much today and we had to do all this conditioning and my legs literally feel like jelly.”

Your daughter reaches her hand in the salad bowl to grab a cucumber and you quickly slap it away, tsking loudly. “Mona! I haven’t seen you wash your hands yet!”

“Mom, my hands are clean. I used hand sanitizer when I got in my car after practice,” she tells you matter-of-factly, rolling her big, brown eyes at you. “You’re such a germaphobe.”

“What’s this ‘bout callin’ your mum a germaphobe?” Harry walks into the kitchen, his curls now pulled back with one of his daughter’s many headbands. He presses a kiss to the top of her sweaty head and wrinkles his nose. “Yeah Mo, you smell a bit. Why don’t you go get washed up before we eat?”

“Dad,” your daughter responds, clearly exasperated. “You don’t understand. I’m literally starving.”

“Mo,” Harry imitates your daughter. “You don’t understand. You literally smell like shit.”

Your eyes widen and you smack Harry on the chest as he bursts out laughing, not being able to help himself once he sees the annoyed look on his daughter’s face. “Don’t be an ass!” you scold, placing your hands on your hips. “She’s hungry. She can wash up after.”

“Thanks, mom,” Mona says, turning her head dramatically to face you. “Dad is so mean sometimes.”

“I’m just messin’ with ya, Mo,” Harry tells your daughter, nudging her gently. “You smellin’ like shit jus’ means you’re workin’ hard at practice. So I’m proud of you.” Your daughter rolls her eyes for what seems like the hundredth time since she walked in the door, quickly moving away from your husband to wash her hands.

“You’re seriously so annoying,” Mona mumbles, shaking her wet hands all over the tiled kitchen floor. “Can we eat now? I think I’ll faint if we don’t eat now. Seriously, guys.”

Your daughter takes her usual seat at the table, immediately reaching for the salad bowl and filling her plate. She avoids all the tomatoes and onions, opting for just lettuce, carrots, and cucumbers. She watches you closely as you take the lasagna out of the oven and you swear you see her drool a little bit.

“So,” Harry says after you and Mona have fixed your plates. “Your birthday’s comin’ up, Mo.”

Mona shoves a big forkful of lasagna in her mouth, wiping her mouth with a paper towel before speaking. “Yeah, two days.” She has a big smile on her face. “I’m so excited, dad. Did you and mom look into that place I showed you? For dinner?”

“Yeah, about that,” Harry takes a sip of water. “Y’sure you just want a dinner? No party? Your mum and I can put together a party for you last minute with no problem, bub.”

“Dad, I already told you that I’m not really into parties like that.”

“But you’re turnin’ seventeen.”

“How is it any different from sixteen?”

“Mo–”

“Harry,” you interrupt, placing your hand over his. “It’s her birthday. If she just wants a nice dinner with us then so be it.”

“Actually…” your daughter looks between the both of you. “I wanted to know if I could bring a friend.”

“‘Course y’can, Mo,” Harry’s eyes light up. “You can bring as many people as you want, darlin’. Jus’ lemme know ahead of time so I can make the reservations…” He trails off, already making a mental note to ask his assistant about making reservations for Mona’s restaurant of choice.

“Well,” Mona begins picking at her cuticles, one of her nervous habits. “It’s just one friend. Uh, a boy. I mean, I guess he’s more than a friend. He’s kinda like, my boyfriend?” Your daughter has a giddy look on her face, but it’s quickly replaced with that of fear when she sees the incredulous look her father has.

“A boyfriend? You have a boyfriend, Mona?” he slams his fork down on his plate. “Since when? What did your mum and I tell you about dating?”

“I don’t know dad, it’s new! Why do I have to wait until I’m in college to date but you and mom have been together since you were my age? How is that fair?” Your daughter is staring back at your husband, beyond irritated.

“I know what sixteen-year-old boys are like, Mo! I was one!” Harry raises his voice. “Absolutely not, Mona. You’re not allowed to date and he’s not allowed to join us.”

“He’s seventeen, for your information. And anyway, I’m sure sixteen-year-old boys are different today than they were fifty years ago,” your daughter retorts, standing up and grabbing her plate of food. “I’m eating in my room. You’re being annoying.”

“I just turned forty and you know it, Mona,” Harry calls after her. Your daughter says nothing in response and you’re met with the sound of her door slamming shortly after. Harry looks at you in disbelief.

“Did you not hear anything our daughter just said, Y/N?” the vein in his forehead is prominent and you know your husband is just as upset as Mona is.

“I did,” you start slowly, not wanting to add fuel to the fire. “I mean, she has a point. Why did we decide she wasn’t allowed to date until college when we were together at her age?”

“Y/N,” Harry says, clearly annoyed. “We were jus’ talkin’ about the shit we used to get into when we were her age. Isn’t that what bein’ a parent is? Not wanting your kid to make the same bad choices as you did?”

You scoff at your husband. “So now you’re saying our being together was a bad choice?”

“Love, you know that’s not what I meant.”

“Harry,” you sigh. “We can’t shelter her forever. That’s not fair to her. She needs to go out and make mistakes and have fun and figure things out for herself. Who knows, this boy could be the man she–”

“Please don’t,” Harry cuts you off, knowing what you were getting at. “I don’t even want to think about that.”

“Harry, I think you know that we need to give this guy a chance. We can’t make any judgments until we meet him for ourselves, and I think Mo’s birthday dinner would be the perfect time to do that.”

“But Y/N,” your husband whines, clearly completely against the idea. “I don’t wanna encourage it.”

“You’re being a child,” you tell him, annoyance lacing your voice. “Mona’s bringing her boyfriend to her birthday dinner and that’s that. If we meet him and he’s just a terrible human being, then we can re-visit this conversation. If you don’t think you can be an adult and be supportive of our daughter’s relationship, just keep it to yourself.”

“Y/N–”

“I’m eating dinner somewhere else, too,” you tell him, standing up from the table and grabbing your plate. “You can join me when you want to be a mature adult. Oh, and apologize to our daughter.”

“Love–”

Slam!

The tension in your household is thick in the two days leading up to your daughter’s birthday. Whenever Harry enters a room she’s in she quickly leaves, not wanting to talk to her father. Harry doesn’t make any effort to speak to her, either. Harry upsetting your daughter, in turn, makes you upset with him. You find yourself much quicker to snap at him than you usually are. He busies himself with work to distract himself from the fact that both of you are pissed at him.

On the morning of your daughter’s birthday, there’s still tension, but you and Harry try to put it aside for the sake of Mona.

“Happy birthday to you,” Harry sings quietly as you enter your daughter’s bedroom, a big stack of pancakes with a ‘17’ candle stuck in the top in your hands. “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dearest Mona, happy birthday to you.”

You both sit on the edge of your daughter’s bed as she groans, pulling her comforter up higher over her head. “You guys, it’s so early.”

“Mona, don’t be a grouch! You’re seventeen today,” you hand Harry the plate of pancakes, pulling her covers down. “C’mon missy, make a wish.”

Mona sits up and tries to give you both her best annoyed-face but you know she’s not actually mad, far too excited about her birthday, and the day ahead of her. She was just telling you the night before how happy she was that her birthday fell on a Saturday this year, too.

She closes her eyes for a brief second before blowing out the candles on her birthday pancakes. “Thanks, mom and dad. I feel like things have been a little bit, I dunno, weird? Since I told you about Noah. I really love you both though. I’m sorry I didn’t talk about things with you first.”

Harry leans over to place a kiss on the top of her head. “‘M sorry I blew up on ya like that, princess. It’s jus’ hard for me to know you’re growin’ up. Your happiness is the most important thing in this world to me though so if he makes you happy, I’m gonna give him a chance.”

You smile at the sweet moment between your husband and daughter. At the end of the day, your daughter was a huge daddy’s girl and although you gave both of them a hard time about it, nothing made your heart more full than their special bond.

“Dad, you’ll seriously love him. He’s literally so funny,” she gushes and Harry just nods, taking a bite of her pancakes. “He’ll even laugh at your dad jokes. Like, he thinks shit like that is funny.”

“Language, Mo,” Harry warns. “He really likes dad jokes, though?” Your husband sounds a little too hopeful, causing you to giggle.

“Yeah, dad. He always tries to tell me his jokes and I’m just like, ‘Ew, stop! You sound like my dad!’. Oh, he loves One Direction by the way.”

“What about my solo stuff?”

“He thinks it’s cool,” she says nonchalantly, causing you to stifle more laugher. Harry continues nibbling on her pancakes, a troubled look on his face. “Can you guys go out while I change? I’ll be downstairs in like, two seconds.”

“Sure thing, Mo,” you tell your daughter, taking her plate of pancakes from Harry before he eats them all. “Do you want me to make your coffee or anything?”

“It’s okay, mom. Noah said he was gonna drop off coffee for me this morning,” she looks down, a small smile on her face. ��I guess you and dad can meet him before dinner then if you want?”

You see Harry tense up slightly out of the corner of your eye but he surprises you by staying calm. “Sounds great, poppet. Your mum and I will be downstairs.” He places a quick peck on your daughter’s cheek and quickly walks out of her room, leaving you to follow after him.

“You okay?” you ask him quietly once you’re out of earshot of your daughter’s room. He nods quickly.

“Yeah love, all is well,” he assures, but his facial expression says otherwise.

“I’m sure Mona was just giving you a hard time. I’m sure Noah enjoys your solo stuff just like anyone else does.” You try to reassure your husband, standing on your toes to give him a kiss. You feel Harry smiling into the kiss and you pull back, a look of confusion on your face. “What’s wrong?”

“S’not that, love,” he says. “I jus’ wasn’t ready to meet him now. Thought I had all day to mentally prepare.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” you warn, moving to pour yourself a cup of coffee. “Please don’t do anything to embarrass her.”

“I know, Y/N,” Harry says exasperatedly. “I’m not that terrible. I know how to control–”

“He’s here,” your daughter informs the both of you as she runs down the stairs and hurries by. You catch a whiff of the expensive Gucci perfume Harry got you a couple of years prior and you make a mental note to tell Harry to pick her up a bottle of her own when he gets the chance.

Harry’s face is a little pale and if you didn’t know any better, you’d of thought he just saw a ghost. “Are you okay, H? It’ll be okay.” You rub small circles on his back. Your daughter flings open the door and immediately envelops her boyfriend in a tight hug and you can’t help but let out an audible, ‘aw’. He has balloons, coffee, donuts, and a card that you’re sure your daughter will never let either one of you ever read.

She invites him inside, bouncing from excitement and what you assumed to be nerves. “Mom, dad. This is Noah.”

He immediately extends his hand, nearly dropping Mona’s coffee in the process. He chuckles nervously and quickly hands it to her before holding his hand out again. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Styles. It’s, um, it’s nice to meet you both. Uh, thank you for allowing me to join in on Mo’s birthday dinner tonight.”

You reach out to shake his hand and give him a warm smile. “It’s so nice to meet you, Noah. Please, call me Y/N– I feel like Mrs. Styles kinda makes me sound a bit old.” Mona rolls her eyes at this, taking a sip at her coffee. There’s an awkward silence and you nudge Harry, waiting for him to say something.

“Mr. Styles is fine with me. It’s great to meet you, Noah,” Harry says gruffly. Noah nods and looks over at Mona, clearly uncomfortable.

“We’re gonna go upstairs,” she informs you, grabbing Noah’s hand and leading the way.

“Door stays open,” Harry calls after her. “Don’t let me come upstairs and see your door’s closed, Mona.”

Your daughter turns to look at you, widening her eyes in embarrassment. You shake your head at Harry and go back to fixing your cup of coffee. “Harry, you’re so horrible. I’d be mortified if I was them.”

“Good. That’s what I was tryin’ to do,” he goes next to you and picks up your coffee mug, taking a sip. “S’good. Can I have this one?”

“Harry!” you give him an amused look. “Make your own cup!”

“You make it taste so good though, love,” Harry gives you that look that he knows you can never say no to, and you sigh before giving in and handing him the cup of coffee you just made.

“Whatever happens with Mo and Noah, I hope he’s not as big of a fuckin’ pest as you are.”

“This place is amazing,” you tell your husband, completely in awe. You were out to dinner at the tallest rooftop restaurant in all of Los Angeles, seventy-three floors above the ground. You could look out and see the entire city and although you were normally terrified of heights, the view left you speechless.

“Mo’s the one that picked it,” he tells you, leaning over to whisper in your ear. He has his arm slung around you as he gently rubs your shoulder. “Gonna drink with me tonight, hm? They got some fancy soundin’ drinks on this menu.”

“One drink,” you emphasize. “I don’t wanna wake up with a hangover.”

“Mom, isn’t this place so cool? Can you take a picture of us?” your daughter hands you her phone, leaning closer to Noah. You feel Harry tense beside you but he doesn’t say anything.

“It’s very cool, Mona. I think you have expensive taste like your dad,” you joke, holding up her phone. “Okay, one, two, three.”

You snap multiple pictures of your daughter, remembering how she always told you that the only way to take pictures was to take at least twenty at a time to leave options open when deciding which picture to post on Instagram. You hand the phone back to Mona and she thanks you, analyzing the pictures with her boyfriend. Their heads are touching and your expression softens as you think back to how you and Harry always found reasons to be close to each other when you were your daughter’s age.

The night goes beautifully. Your daughter has a big smile on her face the entire time and Harry even refrains from being unnecessarily overprotective, opting to let Mona enjoy herself and be close to her boyfriend. The more drinks he throws back the more he engages in conversation with Noah, even answering his burning questions about One Direction.

When the waitress comes around to give Mona her slice of birthday cake and sing ‘Happy Birthday’ with the wait staff your husband is singing the loudest, slightly off-tune due to how inebriated he was. Your daughter laughs, hiding her face in her hands.

“Mom, dad’s being embarrassing,” she groans. You know she’s not actually mad but you nudge him, warning him to knock it off.

As you’re getting ready to leave, Harry tells everyone to wait, hiccuping before speaking. “Wait. I’ve got somethin’ to say.” He’s slurring slightly and you laugh, signaling for your daughter and Noah to sit back down.

“Noah,” Harry starts. Mona gives you a worried look and you’re debating whether or not you should interrupt Harry, not knowing what he was going to say. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been lookin’ at Mo all night and makin’ her laugh. Swear she hasn’t stopped smilin’ since we got here. I like that, Noah.” You decide not to interrupt your husband’s drunken rambling.

“Thank you, sir–”

“I had my doubts at first,” he continues on, taking another sip of his drink. “What dad wouldn’t? She’s my baby girl. Don’t care if she’s seventeen, she’ll be my baby ‘til the day I die. You make her so happy though, and I appreciate that.” He holds up his finger, gesturing for them to give him a second while he thinks about his next words.

“Don’t call me sir, makes me sound old. Call me Harry.”

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #dad!harry

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queerprayers · 3 years

Note

okay so i recently bought myself a bible!!! it’s very exciting for me hahah and i’m proud of myself because it feels like i’m taking my faith into my own hands, ya know?

anyways, i just wanted to share something that i’ve been feeling guilty/conflicted about.

so i’ve been going through and bookmarking verses that relate to important things in my life that i struggle with (anxiety, depression, loneliness, anger, etc.) in hopes that they would comfort me. but when i read verses like these (“cast all your worries on him” “do not be afraid” etc) that are supposed to help with anxiety i feel irritated. because i just don’t understand them. “cast all your worries on him”? that makes no sense to me. i don’t know how to do that. i don’t know what that means. i can’t just stop being anxious. idk i just wish it brought me comfort but it doesn’t. sometimes i read verses that i know help and comfort a lot of people but they just don’t touch my heart? like i don’t feel anything.

sometimes i feel a bit abnormal because i feel like i experience and feel God and Their truth way more often outside of the bible? like in the beauty of nature, laughing with my friends, hugging my sister, etc.

ughhhh it’s just really difficult to struggle with mental health and be a christian (at least for me) because i feel like some other christians think that God can magically fix all of my problems, and that i shouldn’t be sad because i am loved and saved and stuff, and that if i just pray everything will be fixed, and that i just shouldn’t be afraid or anxious because the bible says so! anyways, sorry for the rant. hope it was somewhat coherent. i just hope i am not alone in feeling like this. (also wow i’m so sorry this is extremely long haha)

Hello! First, this isn't too long and it was more than coherent! New rule: no apologies in my inbox for the vibe of the asks. Come as you are. <3

Second, I'm so excited for you! The Bible is a beautiful manuscript and we're so blessed to have access to it. But—you're definitely not alone in having issues with connecting with it. Here are some thoughts:

We are loved and saved and also, that doesn't fix everything. Maybe it should, and in a better world it would, but it doesn't. Telling someone their faith should fix their depression is just as toxic as telling someone it should fix their cancer. (I'm not saying I don't believe in miracles, but miracles cannot be our expectation— I personally leave my life open to miracles, but do not depend on them.)

You are definitely not alone in being annoyed by the verses that well-meaning people parrot when others struggle. When I was hospitalized after a mental health crisis, I received a card from my mother with one of the "do not be afraid" verses on it— I don't even remember exactly which verse it was, I just remember that it made me so angry. How could anyone say that to me? I was alone and hurting and sick and someone from thousands of years ago telling me to "stop it" wasn't gonna do anything.

I've changed my perspective since then, and now look at the context in the passage when I have reactions like that— who is being told to not be afraid? Is it a comfort? A command? A hope for the future? A desperate statement trying to convince?

We are not the primary audience of the Bible. Each book has a specific context and audience, and if it doesn't feel like it's for us, it's probably just… not. That doesn't mean we shouldn't read it or that it's not meaningful, but that it might take research and empathy across centuries to connect with it. You don't need to feel guilty if that doesn't come naturally—it doesn't for a lot of people.

Everyone is comforted and helped by different things. Something not helping you shouldn't be bringing you guilt, and I'm sorry it is. It isn't your fault that an ancient document isn't curing you.

I think the Bible should be important in all Christians' lives, but it's not the only thing. It doesn't replace doctors or therapists or nature or loved ones or reality TV or music or anything else that helps us survive in this beautiful, broken world. God gave us the Bible, and They also gave us the beauty of nature, laughing with friends, and hugging our siblings.

A note: the people in the Bible also felt God through nature and loved ones more than through documents, and they also weren't "fixed." The Bible is a record of humans failing and hurting and looking for God. You are so not alone.

Check out this ask for some resources when getting into the Bible, and also check out my bible and prayer tags!

Wishing you patience with yourself, the easing of guilt, blessings while you enjoy the experiences that God has given you, and the curiosity and motivation to look further into the Bible, on your own time and from your own perspective.

<3 Johanna

#asks #bible #mental health

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melzula · 4 years

Text

Life Changing Field Trip

*part of the Fire Lililes series

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

warnings: heavy angst, lots of tears, fluff, 3.6k words in length so it’s a doozy

notes: it’s finally here! I’ve had so much fun writing this piece and I hope you enjoy

summary: “You cannot bend something that is broken, but you can heal something that is hurt.”

“You can’t just show up like that, give me a location, and then not tell me why or where I’m going,” you grumble to the moon as you load your bags onto Appa’s saddle. You’re not sure how long you’ll be gone or how far you’ll be traveling, but’s it better to be prepared.

Your bending had dwindled ever since Zuko’s arrival, and no amount of training or meditation ever seemed to help you get back on track. Zuko was a part of your team now, and you hadn’t forgiven him yet, not by a long shot, but you had been good about keeping your rage and your fury locked away inside of you. Scaring Zuko off and creating unnecessary tension wouldn’t help Aang with his fire bending, and so you kept to yourself and avoided the boy at all costs. When he entered a room you exited, if he tried to start a conversation you gifted him your silence as a response, and when he tried to apologize or chase after you you’d freeze his feet to the floor. It was simple and effective and, unlike your water bending, it worked.

But Zuko wasn’t the only obstacle in your life, and you knew you had to figure out your bending issue soon before the comet arrived. Your struggle must have been great enough to draw attention from the spiritual realm, because sure enough that night you were visited by the Moon Spirit in your sleep.

Even in your dream-like state your first instinct upon seeing her was to fetch Sokka, but she made it clear that she didn’t have much time. She gave you a location and stressed the urgency of your arrival to the coordinates. She gave no real explanation and no real direction, just some weird proverb like piece of advice that you were too tired and too dense to understand.

“You cannot bend something that is broken, but you can heal something that is hurt.”

You weren’t sure what exactly Princess Yue meant by that or how it would help you, and for a fleeting moment you wished Iroh were there to help you understand; all you really knew was that there was no time to waste. Whatever this location was and whatever importance it held, you were going, and nothing was going to stop you.

“What are you doing?”

Okay, maybe someone was going to stop you.

“It’s none of your business,” you retort harshly, glaring at Zuko who stands before you with bead head and drowsiness present upon his features. “Go back to sleep.”

“Y/n, come on,” Zuko begs earnestly. “You really expect me to just go back to bed when you’re about to sneak off with Appa in the middle of the night?”

“Yes, I do. Now go,” you scowl whilst settling yourself in the saddle and taking hold of the reigns. Your gaze is fixed straight ahead, but you make no move to go. It’s almost as if something is holding you back from leaving Zuko behind, anchoring you to him in a way that makes you nervous.

“Let me come with you.”

“I have to do this by myself. You wouldn’t understand, you never have,” you argue.

“Then let me try to,�� Zuko pleads. “Princess, you’re the only one who hasn’t forgiven me yet. Neither of us can be happy until we at least try to fix it.”

A tense silence washes over the two of you as you mull over Zuko’s words. Princess Yue’s voice echoes in the back of your mind: You cannot bend something that is broken. Your resistance to mend your broken bond only seemed to make things worse for the both of you. You couldn’t sleep, you couldn’t eat, you couldn’t bend, you couldn’t feel at peace with yourself knowing that each day you pushed him away only led to more heartache. Your stubbornness and your pride kept you from accepting his apologies, but your heart cried out to you every time you found yourself missing him, and that was often.

It seemed your decision was made up for you before you were even able to decide it yourself.

“Fine. But I’m in charge, and just because I’m letting you come doesn’t mean we’re friends now,” you answer sternly, your tough exterior crumbling slightly at the sight of Zuko’s hopeful smile. Curse him and his stupid charm.

“Thank you,” he breathes in relief before climbing onto Appa’s back and settling down amongst the many bags of food you packed. A gentle utterance of the words yip yip and you’re off into the skies, truly alone with Zuko for the first time since Ba Sing Se before everything fell apart.

The stars twinkle brilliantly as they watch over your little group in the sky, the night breeze gently flowing through your loose locks and sending your sweet scent straight to Zuko’s senses. Despite being Princess of the Southern Water Tribe, you always smelled of fire lilies. You were sweet and warm and familiar, and being close enough to smell the scent of lilies reminded the prince of your nights together in Ba Sing Se. He had been a fool to throw it all away.

“So where are we going?” He asks finally to break the silence. Without turning to face him you toss your map over your shoulder for him to see. ”The Earth Kingdom? This spot isn’t even marked on a regular map. Why?”

“The Moon Spirit came to me in a dream and gave me those coordinates so that’s where I’m going.”

“The Moon Spirit? Wasn’t she a Princess?” Zuko asks, recalling the story Sokka had told him on their way to the Boiling Rock.

“Of the Northern Water Tribe,” you nod, and before you can stop yourself an admission tumbles past your lips. “You know, I almost left you during the Siege of the North.”

“What?”

“I was homesick and lonely, and you were always occupied with hunting the Avatar. When I saw what the Princess did to save her people I soon felt guilty too. Yue sacrificed her own life, her own happiness, to help her people, and what did I do? I ran away with the boy who was trying to destroy the world’s only hope for peace among Nations. But my love for you overcame my guilt, and so I stayed.”

“Wow...” Zuko murmurs in astonishment. “I didn’t know...”

“Yeah, well, there’s a lot of things you don’t know,” you grumble, immediately closing yourself off again. Zuko sighs sinking further into the saddle, and the scent of fire lilies consumes him.

After three tense hours of flying Appa begins to tire, and you’re left with no choice but to stop for the night and rest. There’s probably only four hours of darkness remaining until sunrise, so you’ll be able to get a decent amount of sleep before you have to resume your travels. You say nothing to Zuko as you roll out your sleeping bag and immediately tuck yourself in for the night. However, due to the cool and frigid air, you find that you’re much to cold to be comfortable, and so you toss and turn for a good ten minutes.

“Cold?” Zuko asks gently.

“No, I just like to shiver in my sleeping bag for fun,” you retort sarcastically, and Zuko rolls his eyes. A small huff of air falls past your lips and it takes you a minute to muster up the will to apologize. “Sorry,” you grumble. “I’m very cold and tired.”

“Would you like me to help?” He offers carefully. A beat passes before he hears the sound of you shuffling around and pulling back the covers of your sleeping bag.

“This doesn’t mean anything,” you point out firmly, and the Prince bites back a smile as he crawls in beside you. Already you can feel the warmth that radiates off of his body, and you can’t stop the little sigh of contentment that escapes you when Zuko wraps his arms around your trembling figure and brings you into his chest.

“Better?”

“Much,” you hum softly, face nuzzling into the crook of his neck as you try to soak up as much heat as you can.

You hate to admit it, but you really missed being in Zuko’s embrace. He was warm and safe, and it reminded you of the times before when you had still been together. During the first few weeks of your separation you had struggled to fall asleep, not used to being on your own and definitely not used to the absence of warmth that often slept beside you. Sometimes you’d wonder if Zuko also lied awake at night seeking your comfort, but your anger was quick to remind you that he was the one who had left you in the first place. It was Zuko who made you second priority to the Avatar, and it was Zuko who chose to turn against you in Ba Sing Se. Shivers tingle down your spine, and this time it isn’t the cold that has you trembling. He betrayed you once, and he could betray you again.

Zuko falls fast asleep with you in his embrace, but you find that you can’t sleep at all.

~~~

The snowfall is light outside as you anxiously sit through your healing class, constantly glancing towards the doorway in hopes of spotting a Fire Nation ship. The Fire Lord was due for another visit today, and that meant you’d get to spend the day with Prince Zuko.

“Princess, pay attention,” the healer chides, and you sheepishly turn your gaze back to the old woman before you.

“Water is a powerful tool for benders, used to hurt and to heal,” she explains. “Water benders fight to protect themselves and those around them. Soldiers with this gift learn how to use their power to defend our home. But these same soldiers cannot use the bending they would use in a fight to heal a wound.“

The little girls around her watch in awe as the water in her palms glows a gentle hue. She smiles, gracefully swirling the water through the air.

“A rough hand will only bring more pain and heartache. But a gentle hand? A gentle hand can mend even the deepest of wounds. As healers you must remember this: You cannot bend something that is broken, but you can heal something that is hurt.”

You wake slowly, eyes gradually adjusting to the sunlight that shines against your fatigued face. The ground underneath you has been replaced by the leather of Appa’s saddle, and you find yourself warmly wrapped in Zuko’s cloak. The boy in question is seated at the reigns, navigating his way through the clouds and towards the abandoned colony.

“Zuko?” You yawn, catching the prince’s attention. He smiles faintly at the sight of you sleepily wrapping his cloak tighter around your form.

“Good morning,” he says. “I didn’t want to wake you but I know how important it is that we get to the Earth Kingdom as soon as possible. I hope you don’t mind.”

“I... I guess I don’t,” you mumble as you rub the sleep from your eyes before digging into your bag for some breakfast.

“We should be there in about an hour.”

You only nod, looking down at the peach in your hand contemplatively. What awaits you at the abandoned colony? Will it help you regain your bending? Will you like what you find?

The journey goes by quickly when you’re lost in your thoughts, and before you even realize it Appa has landed on the ground and Zuko is helping you off the saddle.

“Good boy, Appa,” you murmur affectionately, gently combing your fingers through his fur as you feed him an entire bag of fruit. “You can stay here for now.”

Leaving the flying bison behind Zuko and yourself walk the rest of the way, finally stumbling upon the exact location the Moon Spirit had given you: a cave entrance.

“Spirits, not another cave,” you groan, and from beside you Zuko blushes in uncomfortable embarrassment. With a heavy sigh you grab Zuko’s wrist and give it a shake until he gets the message, a small flame igniting in the palm of his hand. Holding onto his arm as if he’s your personal torch, you begin your descent through the cave. This better be good.

Unlike your secret tunnel, there’s nothing seemingly special about this cave. It’s dark and dirty not romantic whatsoever, which you figure is good because this isn’t a romantic trip anyway. You’re here per Princess Yue’s instructions only and nothing else, and if Zuko doesn’t like it you have no problem freezing his feet to the floor for what will probably be the thousandth time.

“What do you think you’ll find?”

“I’m not sure, but I’m hoping that whatever it is, it‘ll help my bending,” you murmur thoughtfully.

“Maybe we’ll find another secret tunnel,” Zuko jokes with a quiet laugh that immediately fizzles out at your unamused glare. “Sorry.”

“I doubt that stupid tunnel is even there anymore,” you grumble.

“It is... I checked,” the boy murmurs thoughtfully, causing you to halt in your tracks.

“What?”

“When I returned home from Ba Sing Se I went to Elza’s end of the tunnel and found it still intact. I knew there was no way you’d be there, but I traveled to our meeting point and stayed there,” he confesses quietly, eyes soft and apologetic as they turn to face you. You shift uncomfortably under his gaze and look forward, continuing your pace through the tunnel. “I’m really sorry for how much I’ve hurt you, y/n.”

“Why did you do it?” You question. Your voice is weak and frail and your eyes glisten with tears, and Zuko doesn’t think his heart can hurt any more than it does now. “After everything we’d been through and everything we’d accomplished together, why would you betray me like that? I loved you Zuko.”

“I-“

“And then to betray Iroh? Your own flesh and blood?”

“I know it was wrong, and I wish I could take everything back. I never stopped thinking about you y/n. Even when I was with Mai, all I could see was your face in the cave looking at me with disappointment and-“

“Wait a minute, who’s Mai?” You retort, pulling away from the fire bender to look up at him with furrowed brows. Zuko’s face flushes and immediate regret fills him at having mentioned the girl.

“I umm.. After we broke up, I kind of started seeing someone else,” he admits sheepishly whilst nervously grasping at the back of his neck. The sight of your complete rage and fury makes him wish he was being swallowed whole by an unagi instead of having to face an angry Princess.

“I can’t believe you!” You cry in outrage. “I spent weeks crying over you and you just moved on to another girl like nothing!”

“She didn’t mean anything, I promise-“

“I don’t want to hear it, get away from me!” You demand, picking up your pace to try and get away from him as quickly as you can, but Zuko is hot on your heels.

“Princess, please!” You try to freeze his feet to the floor and let out a frustrated growl as your bending fails you yet again. “Just let me explain!”

“No! I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen!” You command, angrily jabbing a finger at his chest. “I left my people, my family, for you. When you pushed me aside on your hunt for the Avatar, I stayed even though I was unhappy. I stood by you despite all the mean and cruel things you did because I knew deep in my heart that you were still the same Prince I fell in love with. And when we got to Ba Sing Se I thought we could finally have the life we had planned together. Working in your uncle’s tea shop, taking walks through the upper ring at night, being able to enjoy myself without having to worry about what terrible thing you’d do next made me the happiest I’d ever been.”

“And then you threw it all away. For what? Honor? Approval from the man who abused you? Using my bending against you was the hardest thing I’d ever done in my entire life, yet you seemed to have no problem with fighting me the minute Azula asked you to. I knew then that you weren’t Zuko, not the Zuko I fell in love with.”

Tears steadily stream down both of your faces, your throat is raw and sore from yelling but you don’t care. You’re angry, you’re upset, you’re hurt, and you’re afraid of the emotions festering inside of you. But you also feel good, like a weight is slowly being lifted off of you.

“And then to hear you moved on to someone else so quick as if I meant nothing to you?!”

“I’m sorry,” Zuko offers weakly.

“You betrayed me, you broke my trust, you broke my heart, but no matter how hard I try I can’t bring myself to hate you because I love you Zuko! Despite it all I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything or anyone, and when I think about where we came from and where we are now I-I just...”

You burst into a fit of tears and welcome Zuko’s comforting arms that wrap around your figure and squeeze you so tightly to his chest. Your shoulders shake with each sob that falls past your lips, your hands clutch tightly at the fabric of his robes, and you bury your face into his chest to muffle your sobs. The boy says nothing for a long time, only holding you and soothing you to the best of his abilities as you let out all of your hurt, anger, and sorrow.

“I’m sorry I never realized how special you were and how much I truly needed you. Nothing I say can ever undo the hurt I’ve caused you, but I’ll do anything to show you just how much you mean to me. I love you y/n, you’re my other half. Uncle always said our love was a balance of yin and yang, and he was right.” You watch through your tears as Zuko takes both of your hands in his own and gives them a gentle squeeze. “Please, Princess.”

You sniffle, blinking away the tears as you gaze up at Zuko’a pleading gaze. The tricky proverb comes to mind again, only this time it isn’t as tricky. Ever since Zuko joined the Gaang you’d done everything in your power to keep him away to protect yourself, but it only made your heartbreak worse. Defensive maneuvers wouldn’t ease your pain, but offensive would. You cannot bend something that is broken, but you can heal something that is hurt. The water bender in you wanted to push him out, but the healer inside of you knew that this moment in the cave was exactly what you needed to finally feel okay again.

Without responding, you simply lean up and press your lips against Zuko’s in a loving kiss. His hands come to rest upon your tear stained cheeks as he bring you closer, kissing you so desperately it’s almost as if he’ll die if he doesn’t have his lips upon yours. The tunnel around you begins to glow, but you don’t realize this until after you’ve pulled away from each other. A tearful smile graces your lips and Zuko finds himself swooping in for another quick kiss.

“I know why the Moon Spirit sent us here,” you sniffle. “I know where we are now.”

“You do?”

“When I was younger my mother would threaten to send me to the cave of truths whenever I told a lie. It was a magical cave said to not only pull out the most personal truths of anyone who set foot inside but also grant them a lesson in exchange for their truth. My truth was my love for you, Zuko, and I learned that shutting you out is never going to fix things. Only by letting you in again, by allowing you the chance to redeem yourself, will we be able to fix our broken hearts.”

With a gentle smile, you pull the droplets of water from the air that surrounds you and swirl them gently in the palm of your hand until they freeze into snowflakes. Zuko watches in awe as the snow takes the shape of a butterfly, its wings flapping elegantly as it lands on the tip of his nose.

“My bending is back.” Zuko smiles.

“And so are you.”

~~~

The Gaang is waiting for you when you return, astonished at the sight of your intertwined hands and happy smiles on your features.

“What happened to you two?” Suki asks.

“Life changing field trip,” you reply with a simple shrug, smiling as Zuko wraps an arm around your waist and presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Aw man, you guys are giving me the oogies,” Sokka groans only for Katara to elbow his side.

“What changed?” Aang asks, prompting you and Zuko to exchange glances.

“Our relationship has a really good track record with secret tunnels,” you giggle.

“We’re both ready to start over,” Zuko says. “It’s going to take some time for things to be normal again, but we’ll get there.”

“I’m really happy for you guys,” Katara smiles gently.

“Yeah, I was getting kind of sick of the two of you moping around,” Toph grins, and you can’t help but return the smile.

You’ve got a long journey of healing ahead of you, but with Zuko finally back by your side you know you can accomplish anything.

| tags: @titaniafire @dekahg @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @multi-fandomstan @eridanuswave @royahllty @lozzybowe @izzieserra @melacholy @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @kittenthekat1234567890 @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @coldlilheart @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 |

#zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine #princess reader #atla #atla x reader #avatar the last airbender #forbidden lovers au #fire lilies #secret tunnel #life changing field trip!

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nanaosaki3940 · 3 years

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Enji Todoroki/Endeavor - The Social Disaster

MHA’s one of the main subplots is the Todoroki family story which we all know it as ‘Keeping Up With The Todorokis’. This subplot is deliciously complicated and the root of these complications is none other than Endeavor or Enji Todoroki himself.

And I’m going to explain why I call him ‘The Social Disaster’.

After failing to surpass All Might, Endeavor started his stupid breeding experiment where he’ll create a child to use it as a weapon to surpass All Might and become the No. 1 hero and the first weapon he created was called Touya Todoroki. At the very beginning of the training sessions with his son, Endeavor filled Touya’s head with dreams of becoming No.1 hero, be greater than All Might, that he was the destined one to carry out his father’s legacy etc. And then one day Endeavor stopped everything and just gave up on Touya, saying – “No, you can’t. You’re worthless, you can’t do this one thing I told you that you’re gonna be able to do your whole life and so you need to just get the fuck out of my face. Stop doing it. Go be an accountant and just give up.”

From birth Touya was told –“You’re gonna be this great thing. You’re gonna be this Hero Hokage.” and then Endeavor’s like – “Oh sorry, you’re not going to be that Hero Hokage.” and we see that Endeavor’s spending the whole time telling his son like - “Go hang out with your friends and go be normal.” And Touya says – “Well, everyone at school wants to be a hero too.” To me, it’s kinda looping back into Deku’s situation in reverse, like where Deku wanted to become a hero but he was quirkless and Touya also wanted to be a hero, but he can’t tolerate his own flames.

And then Endeavor came up with this shitty idea like – “Oh, you know what will make him stop, if you get him a fucking replacement.” which is maybe the worst idea I’ve heard in my whole life of how to resolve a problem like this.

To me, Endeavor has seemingly no understanding of how people work beyond just – “Oh, this is how I solve criminal cases.”

During his engagement with Rei, he looks and talks like such an awkward idiot and I feel like the way he treats Touya and the way he tries to handle his situation, just proves that how bad he is in understanding what he is doing and how his intentions affects reality.

Even though he is a grown-ass adult and he should know, it's interesting to see that there is this sort of consistency because I believe the implication is that it is his social idiocy that also caused him the No. 1 spot that he could never really become the people's man like All Might because he just doesn't know how to be a man of the people like All Might. And this is how it infects all parts of his life.

He's telling Touya to stop out of concern for him like – “You need to stop this because it's just not good for you.”, which is a very sweet sentiment. But at the same time, we get the panel of where he says – “We got to have another kid to make him stop doing it because then he will give up.” And Rei says –“No, we're not going to do that.” And his response is –“No, we gotta do it because he is never gonna be the one to surpass All Might.”

Then they have Natsuo and we see Touya’s reaction to it and it’s obviously that he’s not taking it very well and then we just see Endeavor getting more and more angry and Rei is getting more and more sad and defeated by the whole situation and when they have baby Shoto, the faces of Endeavor, Rei and Touya physically upsets me. We get to see Endeavor looks really excited, Rei's just like –“I’m done, just stop.” And Touya is so devastated because he realizes that this is the one that's gonna be better than him.

Shoto got what they wanted out of him and we see Touya saying like –“I can still do it.” and the end result is just the dad saying like; it's not even like –“Let's do things together other than being heroes.”; it's more like –“You got to give up on being hero, go play with other kids, go to school and get the fuck out of my face. I gotta train this other hero child. I don’t have time for this shit.”

Endeavor has a line of logic within his brain where he's like –“I can’t fix Touya for what I have done to him cannot be undone because I don’t have the capabilities, so I will just move forward and hope that he copes up.”, which is a terrible and stupid idea, but it is nonetheless align of logic within him.

There’s a certain set of values, ideas and goals in him and he follows them through and they were all terrible and reprehensible. But it still shows that there was an internal logic to him that it makes him even more monstrous without taking that terrifying humanity away from him.

Endeavor is just a person who has done terrible things, with an actual logical line of thought behind it even if it is logic that only makes sense to him.

There’re a lot of obvious parallels we can make between Touya and Deku (they’re not subtle about it and it’s kind of in our faces). Well it's just interesting to me that like Endeavor his whole obsession is like –“I gotta be better than All Might.” And then even in situations like this where he has this protégé that he gives all this hopes and dreams to like –“You're gonna be great, you're gonna be a hero, you’re gonna be the greatest.” And then the child has this power that his body cannot handle and he can't do what the dad told him to do, Endeavor is just like –“Well then, you suck kid. Get a new job, idiot.”

On the other hand, even though All Might is far from perfect in a lot of ways of course when it comes to this but it’s the exact same thing but he understands that like having these aspirations and these dreams even in someone so young is so real. And we know that All Might feels bad about what happens to Deku, but at no point does he tell him like –“Okay, give it up kid. You still can’t do it more than 5% without breaking your arm. Give it up idiot. I’m gonna give it to somebody else.” Like at no point does that even cross his mind. Rather All Might tells Deku –“Look, you gotta work to do. You’re not up to that level yet but I’ll help you and I’ll do it with you.”

And that’s true that Touya wanted to be better than All Might which wasn’t realistic but he was also a child and rationality and setting realistic goals comes much later than being a fucking child. But Endeavor was so obsessed with his own shit that it was hard for him to get over his own hang ups and look through Touya’s problems. Touya could easily still be a hero if he accidentally singes his skin a little bit sometimes that’s not even close to the kind of damage that Deku does himself every time he fights anything. So, it’s not unrealistic to be like –“Okay, yeah I’ll help you and we’ll take it slow. We’ll help you get over your power and then when you get to school or whatever, you can get help from the tech department and make you a heat shield or whatever.”

There were many ways that he obviously could’ve worked around it but Endeavor didn’t give a shit about that because that wasn’t his goal. He’s goal wasn’t to nurture Touya rather his goal was to find a way to get past All Might. He didn’t give a shit about trying to take it slow or trying to help Touya to accomplish anything other than what he wanted and once Touya couldn’t do that, he’s like –“Get the fuck out of my face while I train this replacement child.”

Endeavor is a kind of a person who makes every single mistake it could have made, like starting right from the point where he buys a wife to the point where he tortures Shoto during training sessions. Like you all can tell that he almost like wanted to be a parent when he was like –“Oh, I need to protect Touya from his own power.” He vocalizes a sweet sentiment but also he’s the reason Touya is like this and he can’t just run away and that’s why I like what Rei says as well it’s like –“You just keep running away. You keep creating these problems and you just keep running forward to All Might but also you keep running away from what you have done.” And I am so happy with how Rei is characterized like she is so much more spunky and so much more like assertive than I thought. Like she actually talks back to Endeavor and even in the hospital scene, she has like a presence and says –“You know we will do this. You need to get yourself together and we need to atone together, but most of all you because you were a piece of shit.”

And I also like the little thing at the end where Shoto was like –“I talked with Mom before we came here and I told her that I was going to be the one to stop Touya, but no, we’ll stop him altogether.” To me it sounded like it was Rei’s idea where she was like –“No, you can’t let this piece of shit make this your problem.” I mean Endeavor was always running away. He ran away from Touya and all this stuff happened. He was ready to do it again in the hospital, saying that –“I can’t fight him, he’s my son and I can’t do it.” But Rei was like –“No, get up and take some fucking responsibility for your problems.”

And I love that it was Rei the one who came to that conclusion, because even Shoto was ready to be like –“Dad can’t do it. I’m destined to stop my brother.” And she was like –“No, it’s this asshole’s problem. He did this and yeah all of us could have done more but you can’t let him sit in a bed and wallow about being so pathetic. He needs to get up and he needs to solve this.” And there's no better character it could have been to have been the one that came to that conclusion.

And this is what I love about MHA that how sincere it is and what I mean by that is moments like these where it doesn’t really go out of its way to play into any specific tropes when it comes to this abuse storyline and instead just gives you hurt people moving past and making decisions that sounds reasonable. Like the fact that Shoto didn’t just go on the avenger mode but instead talked it over with his mother which usually doesn't happen in shounen manga/anime. When you decide on making a revenge plot in shounen, you just do it. You don’t go and talk to someone important in your life and seek emotional counsel in shounen. So yeah, I love that Horikoshi sensei is giving us mature and realistic contents like these.

Then in chapter 302 we see Rei asks Touya like –“It almost seems like you don’t want to really be a hero, like you don’t seem like you actually care about becoming a hero. It just seems like you’re obsessed and stuck because Endeavor is your dad and you feel like you have a legacy to live up to but he is abandoned you.” And of course Touya’s responses were like –“Fuck you, mom. I fucking hate you.” But she was right. If Endeavor just hadn’t been such a pig headed shit in dealing with the problem, Touya either would have grown up to the point where he realized it was not worth it or if he really wanted to be a hero, Endeavor could have actually helped foster him into one if his entire end goal wasn't dependent on Touya being the best one.

Did Touya need to be the greatest hero ever created?

No.

Because in their last real conversation, before Touya ran off to the mountain and got burned up, he said and acknowledged the fact that he wasn’t as good as Shoto right now, but he said –“One day, I might become great and you’ll be proud of me.” Touya wasn’t even there saying like –“Oh, I’m the greatest thing ever born. Look at my awesome fire. Oops I burned the mountain down.” It was just him being like –“Look, I’m still trying. Look at this cool thing I did. Acknowledge this one thing that I did.” And Endeavor’s only reaction is – “Shut the fuck up, kid. You fucking idiot. How many times I tell you not to do this?”

But when Touya does get burned up, it shows us Endeavor’s face in horror running to the mountain which again is so bizarre. Honestly I’m starting to wonder if we will get an Endeavor back story ‘cause his set of morals and values is so fucked up.

The issue is Endeavor does care, but he just doesn't understand how to care. Like on a base level, he has the positive emotion of caring about Touya’s well-being and that is about where it ends. Endeavor has no comprehension of what that means or how to do that in a good way.

Every idea he thinks of how to fix it is stupid and he's even obsessed with the notion of like –“When Touya uses too much of his fire, he burns himself. So, I guess he has to never ever use his power ever forever from now.” I mean this goes beyond ‘I'm socially awkward around ladies’.

I almost think Endeavor’s previous family was just nothing prior to him and he fucking hated that. This is probably edge dark turn for what they might end up doing but I’m going almost like the Hawks route like –“Dad was a drunk, mom didn’t give a shit and they fought all the time. I was the scared repressed kid, but then at school or whatever it turned out I was actually pretty awesome and I became popular to some extent by both like athletic and corporate events. I was cool for that aspect so I’m used to being around people but I have no understanding of how they work at all.” That’s my assumption.

Even when he keeps trying to apologize to his family it always comes off like –“Yeah, I’m a bad guy and you hate me, so I’m gonna buy you a house that I won’t live in.” I mean, you’re still not really trying are you? You’re just moving the problem ‘cause you just like –“Oh, they’ll just be happy without me. I just suck. I’m just going to go away.” But like, you’re not helping them heal up or whatever. You’re just like ‘I’m going to be nice now’ but that doesn’t make all the horrible shits you did go away.

Endeavor doesn’t have an understanding of how humans work just because of how he is, but now I’m really curious to see if there might be more behind that. I just want to see why he’s so obsessed with All Might, like where that came from.

The character he’s obviously a parallel to is Bakugo and with Bakugo, we do get to see that since his youth Bakugo equated being a hero and the triumph of being a hero with being as good as All Might. That is very light as far as his motivation goes but it’s a motivation nonetheless.

With Endeavor, we’ve only ever gotten as far as like –“He is strong and I’m weaker and that pisses me off.”

It's almost idolization in a different way where we’re like with Bakugo, it’s like –“That’s my goal. I want to be just like All Might.” Whereas with Endeavor, it's like –“That's my goal 'cause I’m pissed off that I’m not the best of the best.”

They both idolized him in similar ways and Bakugo obviously feels more socially adjusted than Endeavor. Even though Bakugo’s a dick, he’s aware of things and is surprisingly emotionally literate. Like the scene where him and Deku get in trouble after they fight in end of season 3, they're like cleaning the house or whatever and Bakugo makes that little reach out of like –“Hey, the fighting style you’re using is messed up for these reasons, so you should try doing this.”

Like that alone is way beyond anything I would ever expect that of Endeavor. Endeavor’s response when they were cleaning the house would have been like –“Don’t worry, I’ll move my room to a different floor, so we won’t have to talk anymore.”

Endeavor’s a fucking weirdo, I swear.

And also Endeavor’s like actual motivations of becoming No.1 hero are almost intentionally omitted from the whole Todoroki family subplot and it’s so uncanny. I’m really hoping that Horikoshi sensei actually does something with that cause I think it feels so shallow compared to how much time we've spent on it now exactly and I feel it’s intentional and we are going to get something more about Endeavor. It feels like one of those gaps that an author leaves specifically so you can question it until it fills you in.

#my hero academia #boku no hero academia #enji todoroki #bnha endeavour #mha endeavor #shoto todoroki #touya todoroki #toya todoroki #natsuo todoroki #fuyumi todoroki #rei todoroki #mha shouto #dabi #mha dabi

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tarotinapinch · 3 years

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Pile Three: Red Healer Quartz

1. Soul Gift: What you came here to express and share with the world.

*We the Hathors: Deep love. Mother's milk. Birth is a portal.

*Break the Chain: Ancestral patterns. Healing. Rewriting the future.

*Get Wild

*Soul Song

You came here to express your wild side and give life to different yet beautiful creations. You came to break the chains of your family patterns and do something so totally different and wonderous that it will change your family dynamics for future generations. Whatever your soul sings about, that is whatever it is that calls to you and makes you happy, is what you are meant to express and share. You could very well be a parent but raise your children much differently than your parents raised you. You could be a natural born singer or song writer, giving life to new music that you will share with the world. Whatever the case may be you are meant to breathe new life into this world whether that is in a literal or metaphorical sense. The things you create will be wild and amazing, and sharing these things with the world will help to open the mind of the collective, challenging outdated views and replacing them with new, more flexible ideals. So dive into that wild side of yours and bring your amazing ideas to life!

2. Karmic Wound: What you came here to heal.

*Whale and Orca Elders: Share your song. Frequency of sound. Diving deep.

*Starseed: What lights you up?

*Nature

*Variance

In past lives you have followed the same kind of path as you are now, one where you are called to share your unique song with the world. The difference here is that within your past lives, you gave in to the pressures of society eventually, giving up on your soul dreams. In this life you are meant to heal that wound and push beyond, sharing your creations with the world without hesitation or fear of judgement. For you, being out in nature is the best way to ground and heal your energies. You could very well already have a favorite spot within nature that you like to retreat to when things get a little too hectic within your life. If you do not, you would be doing yourself a great justice by finding a happy, calm place within nature that resonates with you on a soul level. You could even have multiple places that bring you grounding energies, each one for different reasons. One place may bring you peace and calm, somewhere else may bring you a feeling of passion and inspiration, yet another place may bring you warm, friendly vibes connecting you with your soul family on a spiritual level. There are so many variants of how different locations within nature can heal you in different ways. The bottom line is that nature plays a major role in your healing process. Connect with the Earth and her elements as much as you can when you feel that your life is off-balance.

3. Life Lessons: What you came here to learn.

*The Void: Stop. Embrace winter. Great cosmic womb.

*Get Grounded: Empaths. Highly sensitives. Connect with Nature.

*Love

*Soul Name

You came here to learn how to embrace the seemingly slower times within life, the times when things are in the process of creation, but not yet ready to be birthed. You are learning patience with all things, but especially within yourself. The things that you bring to life take love and nurturing. And those things need time in order to cultivate properly. You are learning that love is the highest vibration that you can attune to and the most powerful fertilizer for your mental garden. The more love you use, the more potent and authentic your creations will be, attracting more abundance to you. You are learning to ground yourself within nature in order to harness and direct this warm, loving energy to all aspects of your life. You are also learning what things truly feel right for you. You could discover that a name that you were not given at birth suits you better, you could possibly be building a name brand of your own with your creations, or the names that you give your creations could play a big role. Whatever the case may be, you are learning the importance of naming things from the soul and how their meanings touch your life in significant ways.

4. Current Obstacle: The thing that's challenging you the most.

*Baby Steps: Action. Follow your intuition before it makes sense.

*Take a Break: A life's work, not a season. Get off the treadmill.

*Transmute

*You Are the Universe

A big obstacle for you is following that gut feeling without having any evidence that your actions will be fruitful. You sometimes feel like you need to see guaranteed results or you may not take the risk to go after something. But deep down you know that your inner voice is never wrong and always leads you the right way, even if the actions you take seem ridiculous or risky, things always work out for your best interest as long as you are following your true happiness. You are the Universe and the Universe is you, so as long as you support your dreams, the Universe will support you and help you to transmute your life into how you envision it to be. Another hurtle that is hard for you is learning when to take a break. You're naturally a very hard working person and perhaps you were taught that you need to work hard to achieve what you want in life. While focused passion is definitely helpful to success, "working hard" by running yourself ragged is not. Learn to listen to your body and take breaks when you need them. Recharge the batteries so that you can work at your full, attentive capacity rather than running on empty and chancing making mistakes or wearing yourself out to the point of burnout. This includes more than just physical work, it includes mental and spiritual as well. Do you get tired in the middle of the day for seemingly no reason? Do you have headaches that tend to hit you out of nowhere? Do you find yourself unable to focus on things that usually hold your interest quite well? These are all signs of mental fatigue and suggest that you need some serious relaxation and rest. Incorporate more self care routines into your week. Make the time to take care of you, you'll thank yourself later.

5. Soul Calling: What your soul is calling you toward.

*Cracked Open: Rock bottom. Surrender to the alchemy of life.

*The Great Gathering: It's all coming together. Intuitive hits. Soul tribe.

*Paradox

*Soul Family

What your soul is calling you towards is a paradox of sorts: Hitting rock bottom will actually lead to you rising higher than you ever have been before. Cutting off toxic relationships within your life or changing the boundaries around them to be more healthy, especially with your close friends and family will attract your true family. Your soul family. You are being pulled towards making the right connections with people and fixing the unhealthy ones as best you can. Set your boundaries. Your true family and friends will respect your decision and adhere to your personal rules. People who are not meant to journey with you at this time are the ones who will poke, prod, test, try to destroy, or even just blatantly ignore your boundaries. Boundary setting is a sure-fire way to weed out the toxic environments from your life. Revealing who may not be there for you when you were hopeful that they would be could feel like hitting rock bottom. But remember that just because those people do not have the capacity to support you and your dreams right now doesn't mean that nobody supports you. Your soul family will always have love and support for you and your dreams, no matter who you decide to be or what you decide to do. So don't be afraid to stand up for yourself and show your true colors.

6. Guidance Message from your Spiritual Team

*Sovereign of Coins

*You Deserve to be Seen: We each have a desire to be seen, heard, and known. These are natural desires that are crucial to our wellbeing and the embodiment of our true self. It is nothing to be ashamed of. Give yourself the gift of being seen, heard, and known by yourself and by others who appreciate you, allowing yourself to take up the space you need.

*Reconciliation

*Stay strong, be a guiding light. Ground yourself, be love.

You are meant to live a more than comfortable life with the abundance to do so coming from the creations you put out into the world. You and your work are meant to be well-known, seen and loved by many. Throughout this journey you will come across those who may throw some negativity your way, such as those who say "that will never work" or that your dreams are "unrealistic". The underlying message here is that these types of people are actually jealous of those who go after what they want because they themselves feel like they cannot do the same, they feel trapped in a certain way of life, like they can't do anything differently. So they take it out on others who broke free from this mentality that they are stuck in. Most of the time these snide comments come from somewhere deep like this and are the manifestation of these people's subconscious thoughts. So no matter who you come across on your journey, no matter what possible negativity they try to say to you, remain strong and respond in the energy of love. Be a guiding light to others with how you respond to negativity with happiness and love, not with more negativity. What someone says about you is generally a reflection of themselves, so the best thing you can do is wish these people peace and happiness and move on. Stay confident in who you are and remember that you and your creations deserve to be seen, known, and loved.

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criquette-was-here · 3 years

Text

Long Due Replies

Hi everyone! It’s been some crazy few months for me. Real life has taken over completely so I didn’t have a chance to pay attention to my inbox. There are lot of asks on troubleshooting and I apologise for not being able to help on time. I hope everyone who needed help has got it somehow >.< There’s a crazy amount of messages, so I’m going to hide it under the cut.

@shutupshirley said:

Hi Criquette, I’m sorry because this is dumb, but I don’t understand how to install your neighbourhood lighting mod on an installation of Ultimate Collection... do I change out every lighting.txt file I can find across all the expansion and stuff packs? :/

Thank you!!!!

Hi @shutupshirley! I’m not a big specialist on windows version of TS2 and UC but I believe there are two folders you have to look at and they are ‘Fun with Pets’ and ‘Open for Business’

Anonymous said:

What do you imagine residents of Feverfew are called? I keep doing Peruvian but like Ferfewian or some

Oh, yes, I was thinking about this matter at some point! Feverfewian is what I came up with. I even found a wiki article about different names for different town inhabitants to sort of made it up a bit, but I haven’t write down the result I had and now I’ve lost it. I think feverfewians sounds best, it can even have some silly derivatives like ‘fewies’

@3sushiroll said:

Hi Criquette, I'm getting into SC4 and have been getting the hang of it while using the sims 2 hood planner. I've been starting to use bridges and have been using yours. When I put in the tile measurement into the hood planner (ex: 15 tile = 8 in SC4), it doesn't exactly line up in game. Does this usually happen for you and you put in a piece of fake road in the middle or am I just doing it wrong and it should line up super nicely? Thank you for all your wonderful creations!

Hi @3sushiroll! Yes, TS2 parses SC4 roads this way. I always put some decorative road in the gap or I make the shores narrower so that the bride would overlap the road. But to make slopes where the road ends equal, you have to use TS2 terraforming tool to make this flat empty piece of terrain right after the road end into slope so that it would look like the opposite.

Anonymous said:

Hi there, hope you're doing well! I downloaded your simple walkways set and noticed that they float. They don't sit on the ground properly. Is there anything I can do on my end to make them sit closer to the ground? Any help would be appreciated, thank you!

Hey anon! Thank you! Yes, this old set of walkways was made this way. Maxis made neighborhood mode roads float, so I had to do the same with road related decorations. But now you can use these Cobblestone paths or side walks from the Rural Charm, they’re as close to the ground as possible.

Anonymous said:

hey! would it ever be possible for you to create recolors of the cobblestone sidewalks in red brick/cobblestone?

Hi anon! I don’t think so :| I can’t even find the time to fix some Ferverfew related issues >.<

Anonymous said:

Hi Criquette. I liked Feverfew very much. I would like to make some of the houses multi-unit, keeping your doors in place. Is it possible to add the function of apartments to these doors? :)

Hi nonne! As far as I’m aware, you can only default replace those apartment doors which is quite useless. What you can do, is to put an apartment door right behind the front door. This, obviously, would eat up the space but could work as a solution.

Anonymous said:

Hello! I just downloaded Feverview and it's gorgeous! I can't believe all the little details you added, the effort and love you put into this project is incredible. I just had a small question: a few residential lots are fake apartments, I was wondering if you know how to turn them into functional apartments

Hi anon! I’m glad you liked Feverfew! ^__^ In theory, you can use SimPE or Lot Editor to change lot type from residential to apartment and then implement apartment doors somehow, but since I don’t have AL in my Super Collection, I have zero experience in that.

Anonymous said:

Hi Criquette! :) I just realized recently that if I delete objects in game, I have to delete first the recolors of it. I've already deleted a bunch of objects without knowing about this, so now my downloads folders has houndreds of recolors without meshes. Do you know about anything I can do to find and delete these orphans? (Delphys download organizer just can't make difference)

Hi anon! I’m definitely not a helper on the matter of keeping Downloads folder organised, sorry ^^’‘ I would thing about finding sets of files with similar names keeping eye on the absence of the word ‘mesh’ in the names, and looking at the file size at the same time. And that would take ages, obviously.

@ardyyy4 said:

Hello Criquette. I love Feverfew so much. But I have a problem. The grass and NHood objects are flickering together and it looks bad. How can i fix it? Thanks.

Hello Arda! That’s because of the neighborhood camera you’re using. I’d recommend you to install this particular camera just to get rid of flickering.

Anonymous said:

Hello! First of great content! Always been a fan! I was wondering if you could give a bit of advice with hood deco, I have downloaded an Ocean floor from Gwenke, and in lot view it only shows up at the very far edges, around my lot it is missing (it does show when render is set to small though). And it shows on beach lots too, I was wondering if you know of way to make it so that it is seen no matter what the view distance is etc? (I have the relevant cheats on btw) Thank you in advance!

Hey nonnie! Thanks :) Have you ticked off object hiding in the settings? Other than that, it could be camera issues.

Anonymous said:

is there a way to stop neighborhood decor from fading? I know there is the „boolprop dontmergenhflora“ cheat, but I still get some fading. for excample when I look at the lot from the street the NH decor by the street fades

That’s definitely sounds like object hiding option from the game settings :}

Anonymous said:

Hey how are you ? I hope all is well. I was wondering how is it that ts2 has no ski deco but in ts1 we had ski slope and skate lake !?? I was wondering can you and the sim community make deco or interactive items such as a ski slope or even snow shoes or just something that goes with seasons n BV pack ?

Hello anon! I hope you’re well too! Ski slope and winter sports related decos is something I wanted to make since 2016, but never had enough time to do so. Sometimes I even think about available TS2 technologies to make an animated ski lift and umm.. may be in the next ten years? ^^’‘

Anonymous said:

hello!! i'm sorry if u already answered something like this (i searched but found nothing) but the better nightlife isn't working for me :(( i put the better nightlife+voielle water on download fold and the decorations still flashing in pink light, i did something wrong? (i use win10) sorry for the inconveniente

Hey anon! Sometimes you have to do these weird steps in order to make it work:

remove Better Nightlife + water mod from your downloads folder,

load the game, load the neighborhood, make some changes, exit game

put Better Nightlife with water back. Toggle day/night with ‘L’ key to see if it works. If it’s not, than the problem is somewhere else. Pink flashing also could be unrelated to Better Nightlife, so I’d recommend to check TS2 graphics setting for Win10 manuals available.

Anonymous said:

Hello there, I'm having a problem with the rural charm, on lot view the roads have yellowish boards (idk how to explain exactly). I saw that was because of CuriousB terrain, but I don't have it downloaded anymore so I'm kinda confused. What should it be? Sorry for bothering,,,

Hello, anon! What’s current season you’re having in your game? It can be the season lighting differences that make roadside and terrain grass colors different. If it’s not, I’d check the Downloads folder to see if there’s still some terrain DRs I’ve forgot about.

@pinkflamingosims said:

Hi criquette! I was wondering if you have any idea why some hood deco cc crashes on mac, like palm 1 to 4 from the tropical 4t2 set by leoz94. Leoz94 says the only difference is the high polycount, but I don't think that's it, it looks a bit high to me but not insanely so, I have other stuff in that range with no problem... Have a nice - evening?

Hey @pinkflamingosims! I hope you’re doing well! Yes, some hood decos are really make the game crash and frankly speaking, I think that’s jsut package related issues like broken references in the resource tree. The best way to fix this type of hood decos is to make a clean and stable new clone and replace mesh/textures again.

Anonymous said:

Hello and thank you for amazing Feverfew map! I have a problem... ground is flashing red and I cannot fix it, do you have solution for this problem? It's been soooo long when I last played Sims 2 so apparently I did something wrong when installed CC. :(

Hello anon! Thank you! Oh, red flashing could be the result of lighting mod not being installed correctly. I’d start with getting rid of any lighting mods to see if it helps.

@marv61 said:

Hi Criquette. I just downloaded your terrain of Forkshire, it looks great! I know it has been since 2009 that you uploaded the terrain but I was wondering if you have a completed Neighborhood with houses, trees and all for download? I would love to play your version. Thanks.

Hi Patchman! Oh, goodness no! :D That was 12 years ago, those TS2 files are long gone since then.

Anonymous said:

Hi Criquette, first things first, I love your work thank you so much, you inspire me! Now the question: I have been using the dirt roads from your Rural Lanes set and found that sometimes it is difficult if not impossible to fit them to the slopes of steep terrain. Would it be possible to instead create road pieces as a texture like your Neighborhood Decals? That way they would "stick" onto the terrain regardless of shape. Wondering what you think? Love!

Hello and thank you, anon! The problem with the decals – we can’t see it in lot mode yet. And it must be a DR only so we’d have to ditch one of the Maxis’ decals for dirt road, which isn’t great too.

Anonymous said:

Hi Criquette! Will Betternightlife mod ever be updated to work with lighting mods with dawn and dusk? Is there any that already works with it? I really want to use the light up hood decos!

Hey anon! You can use it with lighting mods that add dusk and dawn to the game. For instance, there’s one here by @dreadpirate.

Anonymous said:

Hey Criquette! I recently used your template to make lit-up hood deco buildings using the Better Nightlife mod. The day text was great! However, the night texture was being clipped by the day texture. That is, some parts of the day texture was showing through the night texture. Is there a fix for this?

Hello nonnie! I’d recommend to check the meshes to see if day/night parts clip through each other and if they aren’t I’d check if all the day/night TXMT data is correct.

@criquette said:

I've installed Fewerfew following all your istructions. Apparently it works but the night lamps are flashing pink even ig I've installed the mod better night light. It seems that this mod does not work properly. Any recommendation?

Being Criquette, you should know the solution to that issue yourself :P Just kidding, sorry, couldn’t resist! If it flashes pink only by night than you have to check your ‘Downloads’ folder for conflicts. If it’s flashing constantly day and night, than I’d better check graphics setting using some windows related guides available across the Internet.

Anonymous said:

Hello, I love Feverfew and it's amazing. I have a problem where Linden Tree 1A isn't showing up in my game even though it's in my downloads folder. Also the railroad tracks are flashing blue, and those are in my folder too. Thanks in advance! :)

Hello anon! What type of the trees you’re using? Stand alone or default ones? If you’re using defaults, you can find the trees under Maxi’s oaks accordingly. As for the flashing blue railway tracks, check if you have this set in your ‘Downloads’ folder :)

Anonymous said:

Hello Criquette, before asking for help, I came to say that the Brazilian community loves your creations. But, to get to the point, anyway, I have been thinking about creating a Hood (inspired by Rio de Janeiro), so I would like to know how to create Deco Hoods for my game (the statue of Christ), I can't find that anywhere, Would you help me?

Hi there! Ah, most kind, thank you ^^ Well, there’s no big deal in creating hood decos. You have to switch your SimPE to advanced mode and after that neighborhood decoration will be visible in the catalogue to be cloned. I assume you already know how to make lot mode objects and know how to create, edit or convert meshes/textures though.

@hideshio said:

Hello! I found your train set (and it's AMAZING) on mts and was wondering if you had a railroad crossing sign? With the lights, X, and the red/white hand that goes down. Or the lights that go across a pole above the railroads. Thank you! =D

Hello @hideshio! Well, there is a railway crossing sign with lights and red/white hand included in this set :D it’s not animated though. But still!

Anonymous said:

Hi criquette, I’m a huge admirer of you work and I was wondering if you had any advice regarding road placement. Specifically the difficulty of road pieces that are deco only being able to be placed underneath the actually roads leaving it looking a little off.. if there a way to raise them higher before placing them or some kind of work around?

Hey anon, thank you! Unfortunately, there’s no way to make decorative road pieces work for lot mode and neighborhood mode at the same time. If you lift them so they look okay in hood mode, they will float in the air in lot mode. Since my latest creations are lot mode oriented, I’ve decided to save my efforts on making road pieces even with neigborhood mode roads.

Anonymous said:

Hey Criquette. I noticed that in my Feverfew none of the buildings across the street of Feverfew Sports Hall show up. I know those are supposed to be hood deco and look like duplex buildings, but I can't figure out what I'm missing. I deleted and redownloaded everything and couldn't fix it. Also the river ends at the first bridge in front of the cathedral, so the boats next to it appear to be flying. What is going on?

Hey anon! There’s definitely some files missing. If you’ve checked and redownloaded all the files, try to replace the Feverfew neighborhood folder with initial one. The game never restores disappeared hood decos by itself. Even if they were placed in the folder after their absence is discovered.

@simping-simmer said:

Hi Criquette, am I remembering correctly that there is a trick you can do with SimPE to change the height of individual pieces of hood deco? I’m struggling with putting ships in my dock because if I change a CC ship’s placeability to be able to be on both land and sea, it just sinks, but if I only keep it on sea, it can’t get close enough to the shore to place it in my docks. Does this make sense at all? Lol

Hello @simping-simmer, you’re absolutely right. You can change the height of placed hood decos via SimPE. Things you need to do are described here and here

Anonymous said:

Hello! I love all your work. I was wondering if you had ever thought of making some desert roads along the lines of the Terrain Mod: Dusty Roads for Desert Neighbourhoods by Stev84? I love the way this looks in my desert, but unfortunately, this mod makes the road in live mode a floor, which then makes you unable to place driveways.

Hey anon! Thanks ^^ Frankly, I don’t have any plans on creating any desert related CC at all :|

Anonymous said:

Hello Criquette. I would like to thank you for all the amazing work you have done creating content for sims 2. Thanks to you all my projects are possible. My question is: Chainlink fences for neighborhood deco... Do they exist? Searching the web these past day only found for build mode. Do you know of someone who already make some for deco hood? Or kindly will you be able to make some if its not much work? My sports fields and Industrial zones will be pleased for sure! Once again, thank you! :)

Hey anon and thank you! I don’t think hood deco chainlink fences were created by someone yet, but they definitely would be a great addition to the game. I was going to create some while working on Feverfew, but never had enough time to do that. May be i’ll make one at some point in the future!

Anonymous said:

Hello, Criquette. Do you know of any way to place lots without the area around it moving? I downloaded Ousmeo's remake of your Dullsfielde and read his og post using the waytime machine. When viewing that post, Tumblr recommended similar posts, one of which seemed to be a tip to prevent good deco from moving when placing lots nearby, but that post wasn't archived, so I can't visualise it. My guess is that if anyone else knows about this, it must be the best hood decorator that ever was ;-)

Hello anon! Ugh, this TS2 ‘feature’ is driving me mad quite often too! Unfortunately, there’s no easy way to get rid of it. The only way to fix the consequences is to backup initial hood folder and when you finish placing lots, replace spoiled terrain with the initial one with SimPE or HoodReplace.

#replies #answers #asks #Anonymous

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cinnaminsvga · 3 years

Text

a love that endures preview | Yoongi

→ summary:

“Oh come on! Just go say hi to him already,” Seokjin huffs. He wiggles his eyebrows irritatingly, striking you with the urge to shave them off in retaliation. “I could feel your ‘God, I miss his dick’ vibes from across the room!”

“I do not emit dick thirst vibes,” you respond hotly, swatting him in the tit. You pause, considering. “Wait, but do you think he misses my p—”

{or alternatively: Yoongi and Y/N. Y/N and Yoongi. High school sweethearts that were never meant to be, until a high school reunion ten years later manages to reignite a flame that never quite burnt out.}

→ genre: high school reunion!au, exes to lovers, fluff, humor, minor angst → warnings: shy!yoongi and shy!oc live rent free in my brain, mutual pining is poggers, hoseok and seokjin feature in this and they aren’t evil for once in a cinnaminsvga fic, vaguely implied smut but it’s pg-13 because i’m a wimp → words: anticipated 15K → a/n: are you ever, like, irritatingly aware of how in love you are with someone? because that’s me while writing this fic. this fic was supposed to be 6-7K in length since it was a commission, but then i kept writing and well... here we are!! i hope to get this out before the end of the year but i thought it’d be nice to release a preview just so you guys know i’m still alive. or whatever. anyway!! enjoy!!

After ten years of radio silence, Min Yoongi is in your orbit once again.

During all that time, the world around you shifted without you noticing, and that meant people were changing too.

Yoongi is 28 now. And so are you, after many months of denial. You have not seen each other since you were both 18—both of you far too young to know about any of the things you would experience in the next ten years. He might have grown taller a little since then, something you are sure that your brother will find amusing. His hair is not dyed like you remembered, as he has opted to keep it his natural dark black that you have not seen since you were both in middle school. It is styled differently too: combed over and jelled back, with his bangs pushed back and his forehead on full display. When he turns his head to the side, a gasp spills past your lips before you can stop it.

But you can see him, if you look hard enough. The same spark in his eye, the same curve of his lips. You catch him smiling for a second, and his cheeks still puff up like dough. Maybe it’s just hopeless thinking, but you see him. It’s still him. To you, he will always be your 18 year old Min Yoongi, the one who would greet you with a sweet kiss on the forehead every time you would—

Hoseok has his arm slung around Yoongi, his infectious laughter loud enough to be heard over clinking plates and silverware. The two look as different as night and day, with Hoseok practically bouncing from excitement and Yoongi rolling his eyes from annoyance. But it is easy to see that his pout is nothing but a ruse; you can already see the beginnings of a smile tugging at his lips.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You shriek, nearly suckerpunching the offending degenerate in the face. You barely hold back your fist from connecting with his face, but your resulting irritation remains. Whether that irritation is because you regret actually holding back or not will unfortunately also have to remain unanswered. “Oh God, it’s you.”

“The feeling is not mutual,” you snort. Much like how Yoongi was with Hoseok, your derision is nothing but a rouse. As much as you want to kick Seokjin in the nuts, you also cannot ignore how much you want to hug him the slimy bastard—but you definitely will not be the first one to admit it. So like the tsundere that you are, you decide to insult him instead. “Don’t you have other things to do? Or rather, people to do?”

“My heart! You wound me,” he gasps, grasping his chest as though he’d been shot. “How could you say that to your best friend in the entire world? Don’t you know how much I missed you?”

“Easy. I do it because the only other alternative would lead me straight to prison,” you shrug, but the grin is forming fast on your face. This time, you don’t jolt away when he closes in for a hug. “And I guess I miss you too,” you say, your words slightly muffled into his chest. Like always, he sees through your prickly act because as much as you like to pretend, Kim Seokjin is kind of amazing—loose bolts and all.

#btsghostie #bts x reader #bts scenarios #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenarios #my wips #look at me writing a fic when im in the middle of my finals season HAHAHAH #like you would never ever catch me writing except during the times when i shouldnt be #but yea this is probs coming out after christmas bc i have another thing releasing on that day (winkies)#but definitely coming out before new years so!! im so excited for this!!#i havent been this pumped for a fic since a boy like you LMAO #and you can bet your butts that this is gonna be equally if not sweeter than that one #who the fuck is angst? idk #okay this fic will have like 2% angst but HEY if you can drink 2% milk and not notice then you can read this fic #dont worry tbh its like baby angst.... 2020 is weird bc i really did become a fluff writer and it be like that sometimes!!#see yall soon syub syub

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avversiera-writes · 3 years

Text

try again; in every day we breathe life [tobirama senju/you] - EPILOGUE

Chapter 10: Epilogue - The World As He Fixed It

Summary: A new member is added into the Senju family, and you finally find out what your husband is up to.

Word Count: ~5k

also available on AO3.

“We do not have to go,” Tobirama says quietly as he shuffles around behind you, as you put each clothing material you have under scrutiny.

You whirl towards him in confusion. “Why not? This is concerning your nephew. And your newborn grand-niece .”

At that, your eyes perk up in excitement for him. Tobirama has actually long lived enough to witness a new generation of his family, and his brother’s grandchild, and you reckon there will be more to come.

You step closer to him, and he watches you intently as you do. “You are now a grand-uncle.”

Tobirama’s hands come up to your elbow gently. “You know why I am thinking twice about visiting.”

Your eyes wander down to his collarbones and you find yourself unable to meet his eyes. “Tobirama, I will be okay. I am happy for you.”

Tobirama’s hands fall away, and you turn away from him to look at your clothes once again. You can feel his eyes poring over you, but you shrug it off.

“Besides, they are your family,” you say to him, and then, the two of you leave it at that.

The walk towards Tobirama’s nephew’s home is peaceful, but you walk with trepidation. You are not sure how you will react once you finally get to meet Tobirama’s grand-niece, though you have been managing quite well enough until that day you passed out in the street. Sometimes it is hard to control what enters your mind or what your body decides to react to. You are not the fortitudinous shinobi you once were anymore, even if you have kept close to its principles. Your thinking has changed, and despite the painful reminder, your body has never been the same as before either.

However, in every breath you take, a will so resilient keeps you going.

“You know,” you start, your mind making up the words to say as you speak. However, you keep going and it feels just right. “There are many civilian families that have shinobis as their family members, and are unbelonging to any clan. I think we must...do better in supporting them.”

Tobirama glances at you, letting you know that he is listening.

“What I mean is. I know that we cannot replace lives, but we must offer some relief to those who have lost their children, their parents. We must do better. I know that I no longer serve as a shinobi, and I may never get to know what our people go through, but we must start somewhere.”

Tobirama nods, and you can practically see his mind brainstorming for ideas, but then he stops and he gives you a small smile. “I think that it’s brilliant. Since it is your idea, I will help you instead. You can take the reins on this one. All the directives are yours. I only serve to make your vision happen.”

You look at him in surprise, but it is fitting in a way. Tobirama has always been the one with the plans and the oversight to everything, but this, giving you this to work on, is a bigger step closer to share his ambitions. Even if you have been helping Tobirama as Hokage, there are times where you cannot do so, but this is different. This new goal requires Tobirama to step back a little.

Tobirama is doing something for you that he once solely reserved for his brother, and maybe, maybe, despite all these years of serving the village, the two of you can finally do something for each other.

You cannot help your smile widen in excitement. “Thank you. I will blow your mind!”

Tobirama narrows his eyes at that. “Not exactly the words I want to hear. A thank you is enough.”

You roll your eyes, and nudge his arm with your elbow. “Have you no faith?”

Tobirama raises an eyebrow. “Well, for one. You are quite disorganized sometimes.”

“Okay, okay,” you let out a chuckle. “But I have learned a lot from you. There is order to my chaos, too, you know.”

“Tell that to my alphabetized files in my office,” Tobirama immediately retorts. “And my color-coded books and scrolls. My labelled drawers and boxes.”

“I get it, my gods, you and your drive to just be the best at everything!”

Tobirama had the nerve to look smug.

“Wow!” You exclaim sarcastically. “You are liking this, aren’t you? Bragging about yourself? Your ego knows no bounds.”

“Well, I am the best at everything. That is a fact, my darling,” Tobirama mockingly says, and you freeze at the endearment.

Tobirama rarely says these things, and it has caught you off guard. He keeps on walking ahead, widening the gap between the two of you.

“Do you see me right now?” You yell towards him. “I am shaking my fist at you!”

“Get in line, my love,” Tobirama says again and your mouth drops, aghast.

“Who are you?!” You cry out. You jog towards him lightly to catch up.

Tobirama actually laughs, the sound small and a little rough, but it sends you to roll your eyes.

“Gods, you have changed,” you comment under your breath.

Tobirama shrugs, and then he bumps his shoulder against yours. “In more ways than one, but we are always evolving. We never stay stagnant for long.”

You spot the house of Tobirama’s nephew, and for once, you do not feel like something is pressing on your chest to make it cave in. Maybe Tobirama had used this moment to lift your spirits up in the way he knows how.

You are grateful for it.

When the two of you had arranged your slippers just outside the door to the main living room, the two of you immediately heard Hashirama’s booming laughter. You share an amused look with your husband, and together, the both of you made your way over to them.

You see Hashirama holding his newborn grandchild, and you cannot help the smile spreading across your lips. The wonder in his face is infectious, and the room lights up in excitement, as Hashirama beckons his brother to come closer.

Tobirama hesitates, but when he gets close enough, Hashirama reaches over and pulls his hand, and proceeds to deposit Tsunade into his arms.

You watch as Tobirama’s eyes widen a fraction as he stares at his grand-niece in his arms. He touches her forehead gently with a finger, and he immediately looks at you. His face may look indiscernible to others, but you can tell that he is excited. He beckons you to come closer, and you do, and the two of you look at the new addition to the Senju family.

“She is beautiful,” you comment quietly.

You are aware that others look at you with some degree of alarm, but you pay no mind. Of course, they are allowed to feel that way, given that you had moments where you freak out, but you are completely calm now, and you are just happy for your husband and his family, even if there is a tone of bittersweetness catching at the back of your throat.

“Would you like to hold her?” Hashirama inquires, as you place the back of your hand on Tsunade’s cheek.

“Maybe later,” you reply, seeing how taken Tobirama is with his grand-niece.

After meeting Tsunade, the rest of the family gather at the dining table while the parents attend to their newborn. Tobirama excuses himself, having to run to his Hokage duties for the rest of the day, and after chatting with Hashirama and Mito, you also leave to get home, suddenly feeling exhausted from the many interactions with people. Usually, you are able keep up appearances in long social events, but now, every word you utter is exhausting. You wish that you can go back to how you were, and you hold on to that, trying your best to pull up the charisma you once wielded, and while you are victorious in putting up such a convincing facade, you cannot control what seeps in through your wall.

When you step inside your home, it is quiet. It is the kind of quiet, where you know that you are totally alone. There is no breath of a sigh, no footsteps, no doors sliding open and close. You stare at the winding hallways of your house as you pass by them, noting how undisturbed they look, how blue and cold.

Then you head upstairs, taking it step by step, until you are passing by your bedroom, and towards the room designated to your firstborn.

You stop by the door, and when you finally enter, the sight immediately brings tears to your eyes. The folded blankets, the stuff toys, the crib, the rocking chair, and the books in the room remain untouched, and they have been gathering dust for a while.

Your palm grazes across the surface of the crib, and rests on the tiny pillow situated on one side of the crib. The mobile that hangs above the crib, filled with dangling cranes and dragons spin aimlessly and without sound.

You let out a sob that you have been holding, but they are not from anger or bitterness. They are to mourn what could have been, what you have lost.

You let your tears run, and you let it go and course through you. You feel more of what you have been trying to run away from, because you know that sooner or later, you would have to face it.

The pain does not let up, but you feel something . It burns and soothes you at the same time, picks at scars but slowly heals it, with time.

Your eyes go around the room, where dust motes swirl where the light rays are beaming upon a surface. You spend a few more minutes in the room, but when you begin sneezing, you finally decide to leave it and opt to study up on the new project you proposed to Tobirama earlier.

You want to give your all on this one, and besides, you know you can use the work. You need to pour your effort and your restlessness into a new direction, because you never want others to feel as you do, as Kimiko does.

Maybe in a way, you no longer know what goes on in the lives of those who go into the field, but you were there once, and you understand the difficulties of just trying to make it out alive.

It is always life we cling to, and what makes us driven to preserve it. It is our silent prayer, even at the brink of death.

After jotting down your ideas and the beginnings of a plan for this new project of yours, you take a break to wander around the house aimlessly. You go into the connected rooms where you and Tobirama are currently building an extensive library and a personal museum for arts and Tobirama’s inventions, taking mental notes on what you ought to change later, when the two of you get the time to uncover more of the artifacts that your husband and his clan has collected over the years.

There are some weapons and supplies gathered in the last room, since the two of you shared the obsession of collecting them and learning how to use them.

Then, you make your way to your husband’s study. You stop by the threshold, not really stepping in just yet.

This room definitely speaks for Tobirama. It is neat and clean, and just as he had bragged, his books and his scrolls are all organized, and in alphabetical order. The files are labelled with his best handwriting, since he has a gorgeous penmanship. Better than yours, in fact.

You smile at that little detail about him. Even now, you are amused by all the qualities that he has. You should be used to him by now, but every day is a new day with him; re-learning him is not exhausting to you.

You opt not to go in, and instead, you go back for your things downstairs, and take it up to your bedroom to work on. As you lie on your bed and draft your official proposal for this project, your eyes flit to the ceiling and the papers around you. The day feels slow, and the heat of the afternoon sticks to you like a daze, and the next thing you know, your eyelids are feeling heavy, and your limbs give to your side, wrinkling a few papers.

Tobirama stares at the corpse in front of him, covered in tags that are marked by his own handwriting–they are his seals, and they are intricate and sprawling across the tags. They fan out, connecting to the next seal, and to the next one, until it is covering the whole corpse. Tobirama takes a deep breath, and he releases it slowly, focusing his chakra.

He closes his eyes, willing this to work, because it has to.

He takes the DNA of the corpse and smears it to a scroll, and he brings his hands together and begins to the weave signs.

However, when he puts a hand on the scroll, nothing happens with the corpse. He waits, because it is what he does a lot whenever he is doing his experiments, but nothing happens. His patience has run thin, and Tobirama lets out a shout of rage and brings a fist down on the table under him. It gives, along with the corpse and the papers and chemicals situated upon it.

Tobirama racks his mind. Something is still missing.

By now, he has figured out that he needs a soul and the dead body’s DNA. For this past year, he has been doing his best to reconstruct the corpse into a tangible body, preserving it to this very moment. He has taken limbs and other body parts to make it look human, and it has come down to this moment.

And still, there is nothing.

Tobirama needs to finish this. He needs to see this to the end, but he is stuck. He does not know what else he can do. Hell, he does not even know where to begin now.

He sticks his hand backwards, feeling out the wall, and when he comes in contact with it, he rests his back on the cold wall of his lab and he slides down.

He stares at the mess in front of him, feeling like a failure–a feeling that he detests so much but it hangs on him like a death sentence.

He has been losing sleep, missing out on his life and his family for this, and yet, it yields him no results.

Tobirama is tired, but it is not his time to rest.

He runs a hand down his face, feeling haggard, but an idea sparks to his mind that it almost makes him laugh.

Of course, this did not work because he is attempting to summon something from another plane of existence, the afterlife.

He has been going about this all wrong. No, he does not need a dead body, nor all the seals that he has made for it. He just needs their essence, and a sacrifice. A living one.

Tobirama actually does laugh this time, but it is not a jolly sound. It is metal grating against metal, it is low, sinister and more of an outburst–a response to all the troubles that he has been keeping inside for a long time.

He presses his palms to his eyes, and he digs it in, until his eyelids begin to look white. His body shakes, and his heartbeat hikes up until he feels it bounding on his neck.

He has his answer, but why does it make him like he just lost? This should be his victory. This is something good.

Right?

He has been telling himself that this is the right thing to do. The only way to do the right thing. Yet it fills him with emptiness.

However, he feels himself descend into this emptiness. He dives into it, face first. His hand reaches for the first paper he can touch, and a pen that happens to roll closer to him.

He writes down his thoughts about the Edo Tensei, about his assumptions and what he can test. He knows that he cannot use the living, because this village will take notice. They will have to be enemy shinobi. His thoughts disgust him–because he is only inconvenienced by the fact that he cannot use the people around him, and he has to look for a sacrifice somewhere else.

The thin line of what he can and cannot do begins to blur and Tobirama feels the madness that he is engulfed in. There is no difference between him and his enemies, as there are no bounds to what he will do to preserve what he has. He believes to be fighting for the good side, yet his enemies will claim to be doing the same thing.

His mind jumps from one thought to another, when he thinks of the underground prison that holds Kimiko and where other prisoners from outside the village get detained.

Tobirama’s hands begin to shake, but he wills them still. Then, he stands up. He feels his success spread through his chest, and he pushes back against what is telling him to stop. There is no stopping.

He rushes there, the door to his lab slamming open as he flies through the dingy, underground hallways.

The lights are dark green, and the walls are black, the paint fading and peeling away; they curl at the top and they look almost like fingers clawing against the wall. The air is thick with moisture, and his steps echo loud in his ears.

Finally, he arrives in front of Kimiko’s cell.

He hears Kimiko’s foreboding laugh.

“Come to finish the job, Lord Nidaime? Like you have done with the other prisoners?” Kimiko says, her voice raspy, like nails against a blackboard.

Tobirama grits his teeth. This scene is almost too familiar to him.

“So it didn’t work?” Kimiko asks in a hushed voice. “With all the bodies you have added to your kill, you still cannot turn things around?”

“I know what I have been doing wrong,” Tobirama drones on, his voice sounding cold and detached. It does not even feel like his own, but it sounds like his.

Kimiko approaches the bars of the cell, her appearance exactly like a corpse.

Tobirama looks her stone cold in the eye. “Miura Kimiko, as the Hokage, I hereby sentence you to death.”

You wake with a gasp, and the papers on you fall to the ground. You are covered in sweat, and it soaks the front of your shirt, like water has been splashed on you. You wipe the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand and you stare at the space in front of you. You let out a sigh, and you glance at the space beside you.

No Tobirama.

And the nightmares are back.

Your heart squeezes, and you swing your legs over the bed, deciding to get some fresh air.

For a while, you stand on the engawa, looking at the night sky and the low-hanging crescent moon. A howl hoots nearby, but other than that, it is quiet. You watch the streets from your house, as you can see it from where you are standing, but there is no sign of Tobirama coming home.

You cross your arms. It is very late. You wonder what is keeping him at work. You know that Tobirama rarely sleeps these days, and when he does, the hours are short and far in between.

Suddenly, there is knocking on the front gates and you rush to open it and see who is behind them. It cannot be Tobirama, since he has a key.

When you pull the gate open, you find Mito behind it, and you step back with wide eyes.

“Where is Tobirama?” She asks, a perturbed frown etched on her elegant, pristine face.

You shake your head. “Not here.”

Mito takes a deep breath and she composes herself. “I apologize for coming by so late. Hashirama has gone missing again. He is not in the village.”

Even though Mito is calmer than the ocean, you can sense the urgency behind her words. She never really loses her composure.

Your vision gets faraway for a second, and then it focuses on the dark streets of the Senju compound, which leads to the village.

“Us and our missing husbands,” you try to joke, but the tone of your voice sounds dead.

Mito’s eyes flash to you with concern. “I can come with you, if you’d like.”

You turn to her slowly, a sense of vertigo hanging on the center of your forehead. It takes a moment to process her words, but you shake off your stupor. You want to brave through your fears.

“I can manage, thank you, Mito,” you say. “If Hashirama comes back, it is best he finds a comforting face.”

Mito stares at you, but she does not object. “Be careful.”

You give her a wry smile. “Our Senju husbands are a handful, aren’t they?”

Mito sighs, and she reaches for your hand. “Thank you.”

The whole walk towards the Hokage office is filled with your uneasiness, and the paranoia that the shadows are about to jump at you, but you get there nonetheless. The first thing you notice is that the Hokage mansion is quiet. There is no one here, and when you get to the office itself, Tobirama is not there.

You stand outside the office doors for quite some time, until you finally get your legs to walk you towards the direction of Tobirama’s lab.

You hate going in there, as every aspect of the lab seems like a danger to you. It is the place where Tobirama spends the most time conjuring up jutsus, his very own controlled environment, that sometimes blew up because of his doing. It is suffocating in there and no light is permitted unless Tobirama puts up lanterns.

You sigh, as you step through the winding underground labyrinth. This place gives you more chills, since you know Kimiko is also here.

Come to think about it, this place is too quiet. There are no signs of life. Not even the rush of labored breathing.

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up, and you tread cautiously towards Tobirama’s laboratory.

As you get closer, you hear sounds of struggle and of things getting broken and slammed from impact.

You snap alert and you hurry towards the door. You pry it open, and just as you find Tobirama, you see him take his kunai and lodge it against his enemy’s neck, and through brute force, his kunai digs deep into the neck and through it, severing the head.

You stop in your tracks, and you watch Tobirama step back to observe what he did. You begin to taste bile at the back of your throat.

The body that he decapitated did not spray blood nor crumple to the ground, but it begins to be made whole. Ashes fly to it, remodelling the original form until it looks human.

You gasp, and Tobirama whirls around and sees you.

“What are you doing here?!” Tobirama demands.

His voice makes you step backwards.

The being regards you, and probably from the animosity of Tobirama’s voice, it reacts by charging towards you.

You let out a strangled scream, and your instincts make you step to the side, but before it can go near you, it is dispersed and a crumple piled of ashes fall to the ground.

You feel the burn of acid go up the back of your throat, and before you know it, you turn to your side and you begin to hurl your insides.

Your mind draws blank.

When you are done, you wipe the corner of your mouth and you look at Tobirama, who is regarding you with a cold expression.

“What is this?” You rasp out. Your eyes feel cold, and your hands are numb. “What did you do?”

Your gaze wanders through the lab, and you see corpses on the examination table, papers strewn on the floor, unraveled scrolls spread out over desks, and another corpse on the floor, covered in tags.

“Tobirama…” You trail off. Your heart drops heavily to your stomach.

Your husband dwells in the dark, my lady, and in the shadows, he plays god with the dead .

Tears begin to gather in your eyes, and your vision gets blurry.

Why don’t you just die and see what I mean?

“Did you...did you bring me back with this? You said I died…” You murmur in disbelief. And hurt.

Tobirama can see how repulsed you are and with that, he swallows back his emotions.

“Tobirama,” you snap, this time with anger. “What the hell is going on?”

Tobirama stares at you coolly, and you hate that expression of his. It is like he is in battle and he is analyzing the fight to come up with a brilliant strategy.

“I created a new jutsu,” he replies. “It is our safeguard. This can help us at war.”

Your eyes widen in horror and you step towards him. “Help us? At war? There is no war! Isn’t it our goal to have no more wars? So we can stop fighting and go home alive ?!” You practically scream at him.

Tobirama is eerily calm and you loathe it. You know that he is shutting down. However, his words do not match his expression.

“Elder brother is dying,” he says quietly. “This is the only thing I can do.”

“No!” You shout.

“This jutsu,” Tobirama starts. “This will ensure that no more lives will suffer. This jutsu raises the dead to create an unstoppable army. Now tell me if that is not a good thing.”

You press a hand to your eyes, trying to drive away the images of the corpses around you.

“They are just dead bodies,” Tobirama says, detached. “They are dead . I can control them.”

“No, shut up!” You snap. “What did it take? Huh? What did it take for your good thing to happen?”

Tobirama’s eyes narrow. “If you are disgusted, then you are free to leave.” He crosses his arms. “When Hashirama is gone, this village will be vulnerable.”

“Your brother is dying, and this is what you do? Make a solution to bring him back alive?” You step closer to him, and Tobirama backs off in surprise.

He expects you to run off and to leave him.

“There is no cure,” he finally snaps. He wanted you to go because it is easier to deal with what he has done without you.

“Then why do you spend so much time with the dead? Why can’t you go and spend time with him? For the gods’ sakes, he is out there!” You put your hands on him and you push him back. “Tobirama, do you even hear how insane you sound? How can you rationalize this? Are your dead brothers just dead bodies, then? Our baby girl? My late students?!”

Tobirama takes it, and his face breaks open with the emotions he has been holding back.

“This is the only thing I can do! The only way to make sure this village is protected! If my brother goes, then the world becomes our enemy!”

“Senju Tobirama!” You scream on top of his voice, and it silences him for a moment. “Is there no end to this?!”

Tobirama glares at you, and you cannot unhear how broken he sounds. He finally loses it. “THERE IS NO END!” He explodes, and his voice rings in the room.

You take your hands and you slam them against his chest, once, twice, with you biting back your tears. The two of you are breathing hard, and you feel Tobirama’s heartbeat underneath your palm. You ball your hands into a fist and you slam them against his chest again, unable to say anything else.

“Why don’t you go?” Tobirama pleads. “Please, just go. Leave me alone, leave me be!”

You let your tears fall from your eyes. “You, Senju Tobirama, have no faith in yourself, and you are breaking my heart. You set up this world, you made it so that we can have peace, and we will continue to work on that. Peace is not all about strength!”

You meet his eyes. “You are wise. You are brilliant, and all the good things a shinobi must be!”

Tobirama shakes his head, feeling his eyes prick with tears. His chest tightens painfully. “I have not done enough!”

You grab the front of Tobirama’s shirt and you clutch it harder. You feel like if you let go, you will lose him to this madness. “Nothing will never be enough, not in this lifetime or the next!”

Tobirama grabs your wrists. “How can you say that?”

“Because we will never know what happens next! We are only humans, Tobirama. If you are a god, then by all means, raise the dead, bring back our dead child, control everything you can control.”

The two of you fall into silence.

Tobirama wanted you to turn away because he does not know how to handle the grace you are giving him. He did not want to deal with your disappointment, so he wanted you to feel repulsed.

However, he is met with understanding and compassion, and he cannot wrap his head around that. He wants to flee.

Tobirama’s forehead falls to yours, and you feel his tears on your cheeks. “ Elder brother is dying,” he finally says, but it is with acceptance. “He’s...going to leave me.”

It breaks his heart. Nothing can ever prepare him for Hashirama’s death. He still needs his elder brother. They are one hell of a duo–there is nothing in this world they cannot accomplish. He does not want to be alone, or be left behind. No matter how much he isolates himself, he values his family above all, and there is nothing in this world that he wants other than for his family to thrive and to be happy.

“Yes,” you tell him quietly. “But he is out there.”

You grab Tobirama’s face, and you make him face you. “And he needs you to bring him back home, alright?”

Tobirama stares at you, looking painfully lost. It is a rare sight to see him so vulnerable. “I do not know what to do. I do not know. I have spent all my life knowing, and I don't-I don't know anymore.”

You feel his exhaustion in his body and his words, the way your touch makes him lean further towards you and give in.

“Yes, you do,” you reassure him, and you caress his high cheekbones with your thumb. “Yes, you do. So go to him.”

Tobirama shakes his head, and he places his big hands over yours. “I am sorry.”

You know how heavy the crown Tobirama wears, how it bears down on him that it drives him insane. It is not like his fears for the future are unfounded. You understand where he is coming from, but you cannot stand here and let him waste away giving his life effort among the dead. You understand so much that it hurts. The pain of being on fire pales in comparison to this.

You wipe his tears away. “And...I love you. No matter what.”

Tobirama squeezes your hands, but he is still looking down at the distance between the two of you. “That is terribly naive of you.”

“Well, you know me,” you whisper.

“Thank you,” Tobirama murmurs, and finally, he feels a kind of peace settle over his shoulders. It is a comfort that he will spend the rest of his life with you.

He knows that he cannot waste your grace, and he will do whatever he can to be worthy of it.

Tobirama kisses your forehead, and you close your eyes as he pulls you into his arms. When you open them, you are back in your own home, and he takes off to go find his brother.

You wait for Tobirama’s return in the engawa, the cold morning air of near dawn making your nose runny. It smells of dew now, and the sky is beginning to turn into a lighter shade of blue that makes you see the green of the grass and the leaves of the trees. You stare off into the distance, worrying for him, but you know that he will be back. He has always made good on that promise.

Finally, the gate opens and you see Tobirama walk in.

He pauses from where he is and he looks to you. You see the shadows on his face that cuts his features into sharp details–the way his cheeks hollow and his jaw juts out like a knife–he is always beautiful, no matter what.

“I told my brother about the Edo Tensei,” he tells you the moment he gets closer. “We are going to seal it away, and make it a Forbidden jutsu.”

“That, you should,” you reply wryly. It has been a very long night. “It cannot fall to the wrong hands.”

“Yes,” Tobirama agrees.

The two of you make your way towards your bedroom, and once you are in the confines of your bedroom, your walls fall away. Tobirama walks to the corner of the room, his back to you. The two of you let the silence settle, and you approach him, and quietly slide your arms around his waist and lean your head on the space between his shoulder blades.

Tobirama lets out a long sigh, and he rests his arms over yours.

“What do we do next?” Tobirama asks quietly.

“We don’t have to do anything just yet,” you reply, and you plant a kiss on his back.

Tobirama turns to face you and slides his arm around your waist and sidles you up against him. Tobirama’s tired eyes pore over yours, and the hardness of his stature fades away. He melts into you, and he finds your lips against his.

Tobirama pulls away, and he grazes a thumb over your cheek. “Okay.”

“Okay.” You blink at him.

Tobirama leans towards you again, and he kisses you softly. Slowly, he walks the two of you to the bed, and he gently lays you down on your back.

Your fingers trail down to the hem of his shirt, and you draw it towards you to take it off. Tobirama tosses his clothing aside, and he leans over you again, his naked torso pressing against yours.

“You cried,” you whisper, your fingers tracing the bone over his eyebrow.

“You did as well,” Tobirama murmurs.

“Don’t you ever ask me to leave you,” you rest your palm on his cheek. “Then, I will really cry.”

“I told you not to cry over me,” Tobirama rolls to his side, bringing you along with him.

“How could I not? Quit asking me for impossible things.”

Tobirama stares at the ceiling, unsure of what to say next. He clutches you to him like an anchor locking its ship to one place.

“I want to do right by you, and my brother, and this village,” Tobirama starts, his voice low in his chest. “But I get lost in it. This world is too harsh, and sometimes it takes a mile to move an inch.”

“Will you still stand by me, after everything?” Tobirama glances down at you.

You hold Tobirama and you press your cheek against his shoulder hard. These words are binding, but it is your vow with him. Come what may, but it is with readiness you face these challenges with him. You see him clearly, and you are only beginning to get the scope of what he is prepared to lay down to protect those he loves. He is flawed, and you acknowledge that. You know that your husband is capable of making the hardest moves even if the world will hate him for it. You will not always agree with him, but you believe in his vision and the way he hopes the world can be in the future.

And that makes him human. Perhaps more than anyone you have ever met or have known in your life.

The thing is, there is no black and white in the lens that Tobirama sees the world in. You have learned that not everything is simple, that some things just cannot be fixed no matter how hard you search for answers.

The two of you need to accept that in order to move on.

“Until death do us part,” you whisper to him.

END.

coming soon: “touch your heart” (their first meeting and how they fell in love)

#angelica writes #Tobirama Senju #Senju Tobirama #senju tobirama x you #senju tobirama x reader #tobirama x you #tobirama x reader #'til death do us part #you never said goodbye timeline/au #naruto fanfiction

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bunnyinthestars · 3 years

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Adrien is definitely gonna take Emilie’s place in a coma (A Theory)

Yeah so I mean the title of this is exactly what I’m pretty sure is gonna happen. This is because there has been a huge load of foreshadowing and some other subtler reasons I will be going over in this post. Of course, there’s always a chance it won’t happen, but if it didn’t I think I’d be pretty surprised considering just the amount of evidence thats going into this.

(Also sorry ahead of time for the structure of this, I tried to structure this based on my specific reasons for this theory but I kind of went off on tangents in some places and in others I use ideas that I assume come with the theory and don’t necessarily fit into any specific reason (like Emilie coming back to life and what would happen there, why Adrien and not Nathalie, and loosely how theyd get Adrien out of the coma), although I mosty stick to the structure I still want to add this disclaimer just so you’re aware that I wrote this in one go at midnight (also wait right now its 12:10am it is now ten minutes into my birthday??? ok ignoring that))

I dont know man. Just consider what I have to say. Or dont. I will be listing my reasons starting now.

1. Imagery of Adrien being in comatose state/ in a coffin-like thing.

This is surprisingly common??? Off the top of my head I can think of Style Queen and Riposte (I believe) which involve this. In Style Queen, Audrey in the form of her akumatized self had essentially kidnapped Adrien and put him in this gold/glass coffin thing that disintegrated the longer it remained untouched. The other one is Riposte, where Ladybug hides Adrien in that big sarcophogus in the Louvre (he didn’t stay in it but still the imagery is there.)

I also just remembered in Chameleon when Lila took Adrien’s form he was asleep/in a comatose state in that locker and Plagg was like “aw man am I gonna have to kiss him.....” but then Adrien wakes up because Lila stole someone else’s form

EDIT: another instance of Adrien/Chat Noir being shoved into a sarcophagus (besides Riposte) is in Pharaoh in season 1

So yes there is definitely a good number of foreshadowing for this. I might take this further and say if Adrien were to go comatose and be in the coffin Emilie was in then Felix might replace him for some amount of time?? Like impersonate him amd stuff?? Just because there’s lots of stuff in the show with impersonation I feel like it could work aNYWAY BACK TO THE EVIDENCE I KNOW ITS A TANGENT

2. Possible evidence foreshadowing Emilie *inadvertantly* killing (not killing but making comatose you get it) Adrien

This one is not as strong as the first but its worth considering. I was googling the word “mayura” just out of curiosity a while back and basically its a peacock in Hindu stories (like peacocks are a kinda revered animal) and I just initially found a couple websites that said that the mayura has been depicted eating a snake as a symbol of the cycle of time (you dont have to read this part in parenthesis, its just kind of a tangent: the cycle of time as known in Hinduism is another aspect of Hinduism directly referenced in the show: the horse/space miraculous kwami Kaalki’s name is a reference to the prophecied tenth avatar/reincarnation of the god Vishnu, and he is referenced in the Kalachakra tantra which is basically a Hindu book about the cycle of time. Keep in mind I got all this from wikipedia and other internet websites, I do not practice Hinduism and I dont directly know anybody who does, so if any of this is wrong pls lmk because there is surprisingly not a lot of information on the internet about it from what I could tell)

So anyways yes peacock (mayura) eating snake representing the cycle of time. Both Luka and Adrien are represented in the show as the snake, but ultimately I think the snake here represents Adrien just because it makes more sense (Snake Noir, future Alix’s tattoo depicts a snake to be Adrien and is meant to represent Adrinette, Adrien just has some shifty stuff going on with the snake in general etc) and thus, if Gabriel manages to actually get the ladybug and black cat miraculouses and make the wish to bring Emilie to life, then this “mayura” analogy (assuming Emilie as the mayura in this scenario) would make sense if her life brought upon Adrien losing his.

The reason I dont think it would refer to Nathalie even though her official name is Mayura is for pretty much two sub-reasons. The first is that I think she is going to die before this wish happens. I know, its a kids show, whatever, but consider it. The Agreste/Graham de Vanily family has a trend of having opposite names [I am so sorry I literally first heard this from a tumblr user but I cannot remember who I just remember they had made a string of theories on why Emilie Agreste will not be who she seems to be so credit to them I did not discover that] for example the name Gabriel means hero/angel, Felix means happy/fortunate, Adrien means dark, etc, and Nathalie Sancoeur means “birthday (of Christ)” and “heartless” respectively. We already know she is not heartless but rather full of heart because she has fallen in love with Gabriel. So then,,,,,,,,,, the opposite of birth is death. She’s already shown to be pretty sick too despite the peacock miraculous having been “fixed” (as of the New York special being the most recent piece of content). I’m sorry guys I do not make the rules

stop why his face look like that though

The second part of why I think this is a little stupid but. The original art released by Jeremy Zag for Mayura does not look like Nathalie. Plus this art was only released under the name of “the Peacock” (originally Le Paon in French) so it might not actually be the Mayura we know as of now. Now, theoretically, it could be that they had made this art before they knew they wanted Nathalie to be Mayura or just as art depicting what Emilie would have been like as the peacock miraculous holder, and it could literally just be Nathalie. When you compare the images, though, the original Mayura art looks far more like Emilie and a lot less like Nathalie. Yes I am aware this is stupid just know this is only a minor point

I dont know man those faces do not look the same to me and the original Mayura definitely had Emilie’s eye shape and face shape in mind. They might’ve changed it after making the concept art but my point still stands

Ok next reasoning

Again not a very strong point but sometimes dialogue just implies things in Miraculous and I can think of a very specific quote that would fit this happening, and there are probably more that I just dont know to look for since I dont have this whole show memorized

So the quote is from Startrain after Gabriel loses control of the akuma then learns about the Startrain having been akumatized with Adrien on board, and he says “hoping that my enemies will save my son..... how ironic.” When I first heard this quote I really, really felt like it was foreshadowing something just based on his tone and the way this new idea was being introduced of him having to be on the same side as Ladynug and Chat Noir for once, even if it was just temporary. This quote absolutely is indicative to me of a future event in which he’ll have to work with his “enemies” to save his son. A situation in which Adrien is in comatose would perfectly align with this. At least for how I would predict the show would make it, Gabriel would have to turn away from Emilie (who represents the past for him, and this action would therefore represent moving on) and join forces with Ladybug/Marinette, his “enemy”, to save Adrien.

Onto the last reason!

Emilie is probably definitely coming back. Which means someone’s going into a coma in her place.

I mean come on it would be so anticlimactic if they just caught Gabe before he fulfilled his wish. Plus with the way they are outlining Emilie to be this perfect golden being is definitely because its going to far contrast with how she will actually turn out. This doesnt really support the Adrien thing in particular but honestly it would also be anticlimactic of the coma was for anyone else. If it was Nathalie, then yeah itd suck for Adrien I guess but like???? Doesn’t really connect the plots as much. Whereas if its Adrien, that brings Marinette into it, that gives her a powerful as heck conflict. Im guessing they would also somehow resolve his coma with “the power of love” mentioned in the theme song, just because of the foreshadowing with like waking someone up with a true love’s kiss (think Plagg in Chameleon, I guess the rose in Style Queen, maybe Alya’s story to Manom in Stormy Weather if we’re strecthing it....)

TL;DR: Adrien is probably gonna go comatose (like Emilie did) at some point because its been pretty foreshadowed (think Style Queen, Riposte, and even Chameleon), because of the legend surrounding the Hindu “mayura” peacock eating a snake representing time (wow that was not a sentence ok then), because Gabriel has previously foreshadowed having to work with his enemies to save his son, and also just because it would be super awesome and allow each character involved to have a pretty fulfilling conflict and arc.

(all images from the miraculous ladybug wiki excluding the piece of art depicting the mayura which is from murugan.org)

I hope however took the time to read this post enjoyed this theory, sometimes I have really random yet detailed theories regarding this show and I wanted to share this one because if I’m right then this will be proof I had predicted it, also you guys could possibly elaborate on it. I’m all for friendly discussions folks fr

If this doesn’t end up happening the theory is still awesome and they should have done it, and if it does my ego will probably expand and hopefully they will make it as awesome as it seems like it would be. Sorry if the structure of this post is not great, but thank you for reading. I appreciate you, have a wonderful week :)

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solomonish · 3 years

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Hey! If you're up for it how about The Fool, The Hierophant, and The Tower for Solomon. And The Moon as a bonus for any character that strikes your fancy!

hell YES i am up for it! i would do the entire thing for Solomon in one go if asked (please don’t ask......let me pace myself lol)

major arcana headcanon requests!

SOLOMON

The Fool - what are your muse’s thoughts on new beginnings? does it frighten them or excite them?

Well, I think Solomon has a different opinion on new beginnings for himself than he does others, first of all. Considering all he’s seen and been through and what role he has in the universe now, it makes sense that he’d hold himself to a different standard.

I think for him, he doesn’t necessarily think there’s even the option? Like, he has stagnated. His power and knowledge grows, sure, but in terms of personal development he’s kind of stuck. (At least, that’s how I think he defaults to seeing himself. Can’t keep the realms under control if you’re distracted by trying to be a better person, you know?) He just has to move forward without any thought to “starting over.” Maybe there’s too many layers to get through to start from the top again. Maybe he can never have a new beginning because he cannot end. Maybe he just forgets to take a personal day and do some self reflection because he’s busy, haha. But I can kind of see him not really...thinking that’s an option for himself. The concept seems like wishful thinking, but if ever given the opportunity he’d definitely have some reservations about whether or not he could make it through the transition. Not scared per se, but...wary.

For others, though, I think Solomon definitely thinks it’s possible, especially for humans. Angels and demons have such a stiff role they have to fulfill, but humans? They can kinda do whatever they want. Even if he feels a bit detached from humanity, he still cares deeply for it (them? us?) and the ability to just decide you’re unhappy and completely reinvent yourself, especially with the little time we have, probably just adds to our charm, you know? It’s probably one of the things he’s jealous of or misses, if he thinks about it

The Hierophant - what are your muse’s morals / ethics? do they follow their moral code strictly?

oh boy, solomon and ethics....

Solomon’s ethics are better off described rather than labeled. If you labeled them, you’d start with “gray” and then you’d get nowhere else. I definitely don’t think he’s amoral, and I don’t think he’s immoral either. It’s very easy to determine a person void of morals or ethics when judging them based on a life where there aren’t many choices that would be “immoral” but necessary. Like, in the average life, the most immoral thing is easy to not do. But considering he’s got, ahem, large responsibilities on his shoulders, there’s probably quite a few times where the best course of action would be horrifying for someone to hear of him doing.

Overall, he prioritizes humanity above all else, along with its longevity and preservation. He definitely has a different internal attitude (at least) when interacting with angels and demons as opposed to humans, a combination of not really feeling as directly responsible for them and also knowing that if he ever is, he would have few to no qualms about giving them the short end of the stick in a situation that would benefit “his team,” if he could manage to pass it by Diavolo or Michael.

I don’t think his internal values change, things like autonomy and equality for all, free pursuit of knowledge, y’know, all the good stuff everybody wants. And in his day-to-day life, he doesn’t seem the type to pass quick judgement or have some inherent unwillingness to compromise. “Morals” and “ethics” seems to imply a more grand scenario, and as the “keeper of humanity” or however he sees himself, he wouldn’t exactly be hesitant or emotionally torn apart by having to hurt somebody if it meant he could protect and support humanity as a whole.

I feel like I spent however many paragraphs being extremely vague and I’m not sure if this makes sense or even says anything of importance, haha...

The Tower - what event drastically changed your muse’s life? do they resent that event or are they glad of it?

Well, I mean, there’s a few obvious answers here. You have his fall from the graces of the heavens, the exchange program, any number of biblical events, his discovery of magic and the path he took to immortality, the fallout with his apprentice....and to be honest, with the exception of the exchange program, i think he is resentful but also glad? He’s the type to see the good and the bad outcomes of the situation. He’s probably made peace with the sentiment that “oh it made me who i am today” but he does have days where he grapples with all he’s lost and must now deal with for practically eternity.

Though, and these aren’t drastic events that shatter him forever (but i think they can be mentioned here), I do think that he takes little pieces of the people he meets and cares about until he becomes a sort of mosiac of the people he loves. Not necessarily romantic love, either. He met a witch who he was close friends with who couldn’t put down cheesy teen romance novels from a specific author, so you can find a few copies of her favorites sandwiched between spellbooks and old archival texts in his room. He isn’t big on self care, but Asmo did teach him a quick and efficient way to wash his face and keep his skin clear. Simeon and Luke gave him an appreciation for finely crafted tea sets. Again, the event i guess would be “making a friend” (which for him very well may be a once in a lifetime kind of deal lol) and isn’t what the question meant, but idk. I think it was worth mentioning here because long-term, it does incorporate into him as a person.

LUCIFER (my other fave <3)

The Moon - what does your muse long for? is it a realistic desire?

Not to be surface-level and cheesy, but I think he longs for him and his brothers to feel like a family. Not that they don’t already, but I think he longs for the way they used to be in the Celestial Realm, how complete they used to feel. In that way, it’s probably the most unrealistic desire. The hole in their family isn’t one that can or even should be filled, and your addition is just that - an addition, not a replacement.

Something that could give him (kind of) what he craves is if he and his brothers could heal. They’re already on the right path, but they’re still all kind of dysfunctional. The complicated part of this is that a lot of their strife is due to the nature of demons, and the wholesome unity is a brand that has never really been found in he Devildom. That’s not to say it’s impossible - the brothers still love each other, they still are loyal to each other, but Lucifer can feel that there is some sort of rift between them that has not yet been fixed that he yearns to solve.

(If you ask me, the “rift” is probably something caused by trying to heal in an environment that will never offer mercy or forgiveness. If the brothers can find solace in each other, maybe that’ll get them a step closer. But sometimes their interactions still feel like walking on eggshells, and...I don’t know. I really do think Lucifer longs for the type of relationship they had when they were angels, and he’s trying to deal with the realization that maybe that type of relationship just isn’t in the cards for a demon.)

#i think maybe this is just me saying a whole lot of something #ask game #lucifer #solomon #obey me #obey me solomon #obey me lucifer #solomon hcs #lucifer hcs #asked and answered #elvishdork #mine #asks

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obxparadise · 4 years

Text

Last Friday Night

JJ Maybank x Reader

Word count: 5,548

~A fic in which JJ helps you recount the memories of your wild Friday night~

Warning: Mentions of alcohol, weed, and implied sex.

A/N: This is my longest fic yet!! It’s a combination of a story and flashbacks. Flashbacks are in italics! I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Leave a comment and reblog if you liked it :) I also recommend listening to Katy Perry’s “Last Friday Night” while reading :)

*Picture was found on Google. Credit to the owner.*

~~~

There’s a stranger in my bed

There’s a pounding in my head

Glitter all over the room

Pink flamingos in the pool

I smell like a mini bar

DJ’s passed out in the yard

Barbie’s on the barbeque

This a hickey or a bruise?

Sunlight shines through the window curtains, brightening up what was once a dim room. Tired eyes squint against the light as you attempt to roll on your back, groaning as an unimaginable wave of discomfort shoots across your skull. Hands find their way to your head, kneading your temples to try and ease the pain of a growing headache. The heavy weight of your hangover keeps you from moving, although you desperately need a water and aspirin. Maybe something greasy too.

As your eyes flutter open slowly, they readjust to the light in the room. Heavy breaths leave your mouth, tongue darting out to wet your awfully dry lips. The rancid taste of liquor is still on your breath, and you decide the first thing you need before medicine is a toothbrush.

Movement beside you urges you to freeze in bed, heart beating quickly. Turning slowly to the side, your eyes meet with a pair of tired, baby blue eyes and a mop of messy blonde hair, sticking up in every which way. The image of the boy doesn’t register quickly enough in your head as you shriek, heaving him off the side of the bed, cringing when he lands on the hardwood floor with a thud. Whoops.

“Ow! What the hell was that for?”

Crawling to the other side, your heart stops when you realize who had been your bed mate. “JJ? What the fuck?”

Out of all the boys who could have been lying beside you, JJ Maybank was the very last one on the list of people you would have expected. Luckily for you, JJ was no stranger. Sure, he was more of your sister Sarah’s friend, as Sarah’s boyfriend John B was JJ’s best friend, so you didn’t mind him, but over the last week or so, you’d grown closer to the group, JJ especially. He was chill, funny, unpredictable. Extremely handsome, too.

“What the fuck me?” He asks incredulously, rubbing his now sore elbow. A tiny laugh escapes as you watch his brows furrow in confusion. “What the fuck you! Why did you push me?”

“JJ, what the hell were you doing in my bed?”

He stretches, bare, tanned abdomen exposed for your viewing pleasure. Well, you definitely could’ve been stuck with someone a lot worse. No complaints, though.

“Well, I was sleeping peacefully,” he grumbles, grabbing onto the end of the bed to pull himself up. Pink sparkles litter his body, and you watch in amusement as he vigorously attempts to brush them off. Eyes scanning the room, they land on a confetti cannon. And if you had to guess, Sarah replaced the confetti with glitter. Great. “Oh, and by the way, you steal all the blankets in your sleep. I was freezing my balls off trying to wrestle them from you last night.”

Running a hand through your hair, which is somewhat damp and undoubtedly tangled thanks to alcohol, you try to connect the dots as JJ glances at you, lips curved, delight on his face. “What happened last night?”

How much did you have to drink that you couldn’t remember a single detail? To be completely hungover and forgetful the next morning is extremely unlike you, and if you were being honest with yourself, you were truly embarrassed.

“Only the best fucking night ever,” JJ grins, happily slapping your leg, giving it a squeeze. “I’ll tell ya, you and Sarah sure know how to throw a party. Best Friday night I’ve had in weeks.”

And that’s when it hits you. Your parents are out of town, your brother Rafe is away at a three-day golf tournament, and little sister Wheezie had spent the night with a friend.

Jumping out of bed, you run to the window and peel back the curtains. Your mouth drops in horror as you absorb the sight of your nearly destroyed backyard. Flamingo pool floats are crowding the pool, some full of air, and well, some had seen better days. Pong tables and plastic lawn chairs are flipped and broken. Red solo cups litter the patio, many still filled, others crushed and empty. Rubbing your temples, you cannot imagine how it could get any worse, but a dark figure between the bushes has you pressing your face against the screen, squinting to get a clearer look. For the love of God, the DJ is passed out in the grass. Is he dead? Shit.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

JJ appears beside you, looking over your shoulder. His eyes widen as he takes in the catastrophe that is your backyard. “Whew,” he whistles. “What a night.”

You elbow his ribs before stepping back, sucking in a breath as you realize how much cleaning you’ll have to do. Peeling off your clothes, you quickly change into a fresh pair of sweats and a cropped half tee shirt, making sure to throw on a few layers of deodorant after JJ’s teasing comment.

You catch him staring as you fix yourself in the mirror, smirking at a spot on your abdomen. Glancing back to the mirror, your mouth drops as your fingers brush over a deep red mark. “What is this? Where did this bruise come from?”

You jump at JJ’s cool touch against your warm skin, and he smirks before pulling back. “That’s a hickey, Y/N.”

“A what?” Open palms slap against your forehead in disbelief. “From who?!”

The only thing JJ offers is narrowed eyes and a slight close-lipped smile.

“It was you!” The realization hits you like a freight train. “Oh my god. We fucking slept together didn’t we?”

JJ’s body shakes with laughter as you frantically search your body for more marks, exasperated sighs leaving your lips as you find a few more dotting your neck. Thank God you had just bought a new concealer because you were going to need it. “We spent the entire night together, Y/N. Do you really not remember anything?” He’s pouting, and his voice comes out almost…offended.

“Okay, you know what?” Throwing your hands in the air, you turn back to JJ, whose hands are clasped together in front of him. “I need to remember what happened last night. No more surprises.”

JJ cocks his head to the side. He considers you for a moment before hopping back into bed, patting the place next to him. Hesitantly, you join him in bed, unsure if you’re ready to recount one of the craziest nights of your life. “Where do you want to start?”

Pictures of last night

Ended up online

I’m screwed

Oh well

“Kiara Carrera!”

Squeezing your way through the various partygoers, a relieved sigh leaves your chest as you spot the feisty brunette sitting by the pool, legs dangling in the water as she listens to Pope ramble on about the season finale of The Walking Dead while simultaneously spinning in a pool float.

“What’s up?” Kie says, grinning as you bend down to hug her around the neck.

“Any chance I could borrow your Polaroid?” Right away, you see the hesitation in her brown eyes. She’s not stupid. Giving a drunk girl a camera probably wouldn’t be the best idea, but you’ve been known to be quite persuasive. “Aw, please Kie? I’ll take really good care of it, I promise.”

Sarah may have had problems with Kiara in the past, but there was never any bad blood between the two of you. Frankly, you’d been pissed when Sarah pushed Kie away. Her insecurities ruined a great friendship. Kiara had always been a good friend to your sister. It was nice to see them finally getting along again, now that Sarah and John B were officially together. I guess they really didn’t have a choice, but you knew them. Time would pass, and they would be thick as thieves again.

Kiara reaches into her bag and pulls out a light blue Polaroid camera, holding it out for you. Squealing, you eagerly take the camera, excited to document a night of memories. “Be careful with that thing. It’s brand new.”

Kiara rolls her eyes as you cradle the camera to your chest, rocking it like a child. The alcohol is finally settling in your system, so you squeeze the camera tight to your chest, saluting her before holding the camera to your eyes. “Pope, come in closer.”

He rests his arms on Kiara’s thighs, and they both flash a smile your way. Collecting the picture, you wait for it to appear on the printed film, smiling at the two happy faces. Hm. They’d make a pretty cute couple.

“Alright, I’ll be back!”

Kie and Pope send you off with a final wave as you begin snapping photos of people dancing, people drinking, people swimming. Sometimes memories fade, but with pictures, you could relive them, bring yourself back to that very moment.

Teenager years are the most important. It’s a time filled with adventure, embarrassment, growth, love, friendships. After high school, everyone goes their separate ways. It’s a part of life. Not everyone stays together. But the pictures would remind you of simpler times. Times when you were happy and carefree without a worry in the world. Times where you were surrounded by old friends. Times that would only be relived through photos.

The pictures are spread in front of you on the kitchen counter. Chin resting in your palm, you smile down at the photos, fingers delicately tracing the outline of the film as your body drunkenly sways to whatever song the DJ is playing in the yard. In one picture, Kiara is throwing up the peace sign while Sarah leans her elbow on Kie’s shoulder. Another shows Pope and John B, both curled in a cannon ball as they launch themselves into the pool. JJ and John B throw up the middle fingers in a third picture, and Sarah and Pope laugh at a drenched Kiara, who had alcohol spilled on her moments prior.

“Well these are pretty cool,” a voice slurs beside you. A ringed hand reaches out to touch the pictures, and you recognize the rough, bruised knuckles right away. “But there’s something missing.”

Hand on your waist, you stare up at JJ, brows raised. He leans his hip against the counter, hazy eyes trained on you as he lifts a beer to his lips, tongue slightly darting out to collect the excess. You don’t even want to know how much he’s already had to drink. “And what’s that?”

“You’re not in any of them,” He notes, motioning to the pictures. You follow his fingers as they point to each photo, and sure enough, you’re nowhere in sight.

“Huh. I guess I was so busy taking pictures of everyone else I forgot to include myself. Well then,” Grabbing the Polaroid from the counter, you hold it out in front of you. JJ watches you curiously until you nod your head toward the camera. “What are you waiting for? Get in the picture.”

He leans in close to you, his cheek centimeters from yours, hand resting gently on your hip. You smile brightly while JJ opts for a half smirk, his trademark.

“Do something silly,” You tell him, plucking the first photo from the camera. “Make me laugh.”

You joke with JJ the most out of all of Sarah’s friends. JJ’s sense of humor is unmatched, even when he’s not trying. He thinks for a moment, only briefly, before you feel his tongue flat against your cheek. It startles you but you laugh, a real, genuine laugh, just as your finger presses the shutter button.

The picture is perfect as you lie it alongside the others, gazing down at what would soon become mere memories. Head tilting to the side, you examine the photos as does JJ, and he speaks up, “We should date them.”

It’s as if he read your mind. Rummaging through the cabinets in your kitchen, you locate a black sharpie, pulling the cap off with your mouth before scribbling the date in the bottom left corner of each photo.

You smile triumphantly until JJ plucks the marker from your fingers, scrawling more words on the pictures of you and him. Grabbing the photo of JJ licking your cheek, which oddly enough was super attractive, you roll your eyes as you read the hashtag. “TGIF? Really, JJ? How old are you?”

“Thank god it’s Friday,” his smile is lazy and all you can do is shake your head and return the grin. “Come on,” JJ offers you his hand and you take it as he leads you through a swarm of people before you eventually find yourselves back in your yard. “Let’s get someone to take a group picture.”

You nod in agreement, clutching the camera to your chest, scanning the yard for the remainder of your friends. You spot them on the other side of the pool, Sarah and Kiara cheering loudly for John B and Pope, who are engaged in an intense game of one-on-one flip cup.

“Hold up, J, let me get a picture of this.” Glancing through the viewfinder, you shake your head as you find yourself to be too far away. Keeping the camera to your eye, you pace forward a few steps, oblivious to the circular pool float just inches from your feet.

“Y/N, watch out!” But Kie’s voice falls on deaf ears as you trip over the float, toppling into the water with her pristine Polaroid.

Resurfacing with a deep gasp, you rub the water from your eyes, blushing a deep red as laughter bubbles around you, but the only one with a sour expression on her face who is indeed not laughing, is Kiara.

Chuckling nervously, you hold up the drenched camera before shrugging. “Oops?”

“Oops?” You stare at JJ in astonishment, almost as if you don’t believe a word he’s saying. “I said oops?!”

You groan as JJ nods, burying your face in your palms. Kiara’s brand new, one-hundred-dollar camera and you just had to fall into the pool.

“God, how mad was she?”

JJ shrugs. “Eh, she was pissed for about ten minutes. But hey, she got her payback, though.” He wiggles his brows and you shrink back into the bed. “Do I even want to know how?”

“You didn’t see the Instagram pictures? Kie took them on her phone since you know, you killed her camera.” Heart hammering in your chest, you snatch JJ’s phone from his hand, mouth falling open as you scroll through and find Kiara’s Instagram, her latest post an assortment of pictures from the night before.

“Oh. My. God.”

Each picture of yourself made you squirm more than the previous as you scroll through, cringing in embarrassment. There were pictures of you with your tongue out, looking drunk and ridiculous. Pictures of you and JJ dancing on tables, flailing your arms dramatically, also made the post. Pictures of you puking in the grass and slumped over the toilet made the cut as well. And when you read the caption of the pictures, the bile rose to your throat.

“Thanks for ruining my Polaroid. #Revenge.”

Scrolling through the comments wasn’t the brightest idea either, as your eyes nearly rolled out of their sockets at the first two comments.

@rafecam19: So, this is what my sister does when no one’s home.

@wheeziebee: Wait, Sarah and Y/N had a party without me? Well, I know where these pictures are going. #momanddadsnewfavoritechild

“I am so screwed,” Your head hangs in shame, already picturing in your brain the tongue lashing from your parents when they find out. Grabbing JJ’s phone once more, you scroll to the picture of you two on top of the dining room table. Your back is pressed against his chest while his crotch is dangerously close to your ass, palm gripping your hip. Cheeks heating, you turn the phone around, holding it out for JJ to see. “Okay, what the hell are we doing here?”

Last Friday Night

Yeah we danced on tabletops

And we took too many shots

Think we kissed but I forgot

“Y/N, you’re going to fall! Get down!” Sarah yells over the music, a beer in one hand while her other hand is firmly planted on her hip. Sarah, Pope, and JJ watch from below as you expertly climb onto the dining room table, careful not to spill the two shots in your hand.

Flashing your paranoid sister a smile, your body begins to sway to the music. Cheers are aimed your way, egging you on even more. “Oh, lighten up, Sar. Come up here and join me.”

“You’re insane,” Pope says, flashing Sarah a nervous look. “And very drunk, might I add.”

“Not drunk enough,” You answer, throwing back one of the shots. As soon as the liquid hits your tongue, you’re filled with a rush of energy.

“JJ, do something,” Sarah urges, shaking his shoulder to pull his attention from your body. You’d changed out of your wet clothes after the pool incident, and your body was now clad in tight jean shorts and a black off the shoulder shirt. The more he stared, the more he didn’t want to tear his eyes away. “Talk some sense into her.”

He watches you with a playful smirk before peering back at your sister. “I have a better idea.” Much to Sarah’s dismay, JJ gathers three more shots in his hands before heaving himself up onto the table, placing one of the shots in your hand. “For you, beautiful.” JJ winks and you gladly accept the shot, toning out your sister’s pleas. The shot glasses clink together before you and JJ down the liquid. JJ finishes the last two before chucking them to Pope, who has difficulty catching them, as he’s not the most coordinated of the bunch. Too much time on the math team does that to a man.

The music changes from rap to throwbacks, and the crowd of teenagers flooding your house erupt into loud cheers as they recognize some of the songs from their childhood. “Last Friday Night” blasts through the DJ’s speakers, and even Sarah, originally annoyed with your shenanigans, eases up and pulls Kiara and Pope away to dance.

You’re left alone with JJ who is trying his damn hardest to dance smoothly and not make a fool of himself. You laugh heartily at his amateur dance moves before moving closer to him, gripping his wrists to steady yourself. You turn yourself in his arms, jumping slightly as his hands grip your hips, lightly squeezing. He’s gentle with you now as your bodies tangle together, his lips calmly brushing your neck, and it’s a different side of him. While most of the time he’s calm, you haven’t been around JJ enough to see him let loose. The alcohol definitely helps.

His lips brush against your ear, sending a slight quiver through your body. “Is this okay?”

The feel of his front side against your backside, his hands on your body, rubbing, squeezing, and his lips dusting against your neck, jaw, ears, it’s exquisite. Blood rushes throughout your body, down your legs, up your arms, through your cheeks, in your head, and the sound of it pumping blocks out the surrounding noise. You’re the only two people in the room. At least, it feels that way.

Before your brain has time to process your body’s actions, you face JJ in his arms, hands on either side of his neck. His lips are parted slightly, breathing even, and his eyes are calculated, focused, scanning your face.

“You’re not seeing anyone, right?”

The air around you is thick, almost restricting your breaths, but JJ remains collected, eyes steady on your face. One hand situates on your hip while the other rests easily on your back. “Fuck no,” he breathes. “I only see you, baby.”

“Thank God.”

You lean in the same time JJ pushes forward, lips finally connecting in a soft but urgent kiss. Does time stop? It feels like it. And there’s no way this is your imagination, either. Weak knees, fluttering heartbeat, small gasps for air, rosy cheeks. All products of a real, sensual kiss.

JJ controls the kiss. He captivates you, and you go along with the feel of his lips, letting him guide you. The light strokes of his fingers on your back are a reassurance. Reassurance that the kiss is genuine. Reassurance that you’re safe with him. Reassurance that he wants this just as much as you do.

The adrenaline pulses within your veins.

His tongue brushes against yours.

Your head spins.

It feels like you’re floating.

You want it to last forever.

A low whistle breaks the kiss and you’re reluctant to pull away. “Shit, bro,” The voice belongs to John B who stands below you, staring with upstretched eyebrows. You’re still perched in JJ’s arms, steadying your breathing, coming down from the high. “Didn’t expect that.”

“Get out of here, man,” JJ bends down, hand slapping the backside of JB’s head. John B flinches, careful not to spill the two solo cups in his hands, before sending a wink your way. “Get a room.”

You blink rapidly, almost as if you can’t believe the story JJ is telling you. He watches your puzzled expression, waving his hand in front of your face. “Earth to Y/N. You okay?”

“I’m…yeah,” you breathe out quickly, fidgeting with your fingers. Your eyes scan JJ’s face, eventually falling on his mouth, and your own lips tingle. You can almost feel his lips on yours.

“So that’s how we ended up having sex,” You finally begin to connect the pieces of the puzzle, blushing deeply when JJ howls with laughter. “No, not exactly. Well, I mean, we did fuck, but not until later. Twice, might I add.”

“Twice?!” It comes out as a screech. Dragging a hand through your hair, your eyes dart to the floor, unable to look JJ in the eye. “When was the first time?”

Last Friday Night

We went streaking in the park

Skinny dipping in the dark

“Aw, not this fucking game,” JJ whines, pulling up a chair beside Pope, blunt hanging from the corner of his mouth. The party has settled down a bit, but many drunk teens are still going, laughing, dancing, and chatting up a storm. Off to the side in the lawn, your friends are gathered in chairs, each with a unique smile on their faces. After three hours, they’re all either drunk, high, or both.

You grab a chair for yourself, but JJ’s voice catches you off guard, halting your movements. “Uh uh, princess,” When he rubs his thighs, John B hollers with laughter. “You can sit right here.”

His tone is raspy, almost as if he’s challenging you, waiting to see how you react. The electricity between you is crackling strong, and it pulls you toward him until you’re comfortably settled in his lap.

Kiara clears her throat. “Okay so I don’t know what that is,” her finger points in your direction and your body tenses up from the feeling of numerous sets of eyes on you and JJ, “But don’t let it distract you from the fact that Pope still hasn’t told us when his first kiss was.”

You silently thank Kie for bringing the attention back to the game. Pope whines childishly, taking another sip of beer for courage. “Fine, fine, if I must.” He glances around the circle sheepishly, sighing, “My first kiss was the end of sophomore year.”

“No way.”

“Shut up!

“That late?”

“Pfft. Prude.”

“Alright, alright, relax,” Pope’s hands fly up in defense. “John B, truth or dare.”

“Easy. Dare.”

Pope thinks hard for a moment, and then the lightbulb goes off. “I dare you to go streaking around the yard.”

You stifle your laugh as John B’s face scrunches together. “Aw, come on man! Have some respect, my girlfriend’s here. I don’t want anyone else seeing my balls.”

“Hold ‘em,” JJ pipes up. “They’re small anyway, wouldn’t be covering much.”

John B flips off JJ before quietly cursing Pope to hell. Placing his beer on the ground, JB sheds his clothes, cheeks reddening as he shields himself from wandering eyes.

Your yard is big, spacious, and it takes JB a full two minutes to run around the backyard, weaving in and out of trees and bushes. Some are recording, like JJ and Kiara, while others like you, Pope and Sarah, try (and fail) to contain your laughter.

John B’s cheeks are flushed red as he stumbles back over to your group, and you desperately try to hide your laughter as JJ replays the video.

“Think that was funny, Y/N?” John B asks, pulling his clothes back on. He settles back into his chair and takes a long swig of beer. “No worries. I have one for you. Truth or dare?”

Normally you’d opt for truth, but tonight is different. You’re feeling bold. “Dare.”

He doesn’t even need to think. “You still have that hot tub on the deck, right?”

You nod, curious as to where he’s going with this.

“I dare you to go skinny dipping in the hot tub.”

“That’s it?” You ask, shocked your dare wasn’t anything raunchy. “I mean, that’s a pretty easy dar-“

“With JJ.”

You freeze.

And suddenly, you feel sober, although your BAC levels suggest otherwise.

“Damn you got her good,” Sarah mutters, supplying her boyfriend with a high five. “She won’t do it, though.”

“Oh, no shot,” Kie agrees with a nod.

JJ shifts underneath you, hand brushing your hair from your ears as he leans in to whisper, “What do you say, baby girl?”

That fuels you. Determined, you stand in front of the group, fingers going to the hem of your top, pulling it over your head, and tossing it to the ground.

Left in only your bra and the tiny shorts that barely cover your ass, you direct your eyes to JJ, smirking at the shit eating grin plastered on his face. “You coming?”

You danced with him. No problem.

You drank with him. No problem.

You kissed him. No problem.

Getting naked with him? Problem.

The lights on the deck are dim, hiding the bright color on your cheeks. The jets in the hot tub whirl beside you, taunting you, screaming at you to complete the dare.

Opposite you on the other side of the hot tub, JJ stands coolly, eyes drooping, lazy smile, taking long drags of his blunt. You watch as his lips form an ‘o’, blowing the smoke into the air. He’s calm, and you want that same tranquility.

He smirks as you pluck the blunt from his fingers, taking a long drag yourself. You feel dizzy, lightheaded, and cough out a puff of smoke.

“Easy, princess,” He cocks a brow, studying you. “Nervous?”

It’s amazing how quickly alcohol fucks with your emotions. One minute, you’re having the time of your life, dancing and kissing a boy way out of your league. And then a minute later, you can barely look at him. “Little bit.”

JJ takes another pull. “Tell you what. You turn around and I’ll change first. Then when I’m in the tub, I’ll turn around so you can change.”

You agree and turn your back to him, providing him with privacy although your head is screaming at you to sneak a peek. A splash in the tub has you turning around, swallowing as JJ rests his arms on the outside, blunt hanging from his smile. He’s effortlessly sexy, and you’ll make sure to thank JB later for the dare.

He winks before turning around slightly, awarding you with the same privacy you supplied him. Your shorts go first, then your thong, followed by your bra. Breathing deeply, you cross your arms over your breasts, thankful that JJ couldn’t see.

But unbeknownst to you, JJ had turned back around. “Sweet ass.”

Yelping, you struggle to cover yourself as JJ chuckles, holding up his arms to block the water as you tumble your way into the hot tub, letting the water shield your body. “Shit, JJ. You weren’t supposed to turn around!”

“And you thought I’d listen, why?”

Rolling your eyes, you settle deeper into the steaming water, moaning slightly as the jets massage your back. Across from you, JJ observes you with a smile. “You don’t need to be shy around me, you know. We’re friends, after all.”

“I’m not shy.”

JJ snickers. “Please. You don’t think I notice how your body tenses up whenever I’m close to you? You think I don’t see when your cheeks get that little pink color when I look at you?” His head hangs, tilted to the side, blunt held between his thumb and forefinger., lowering his voice. “You think I don’t know how much you wanted to kiss me tonight?”

There’s no way he can read you that easily, so you play it off. “Alcohol changes a person.”

His grin irritates you. He doesn’t believe you. Why doesn’t he believe you?

Drawing in a breath, you decide to go for it. You swim over to him, watching as his eyes widen, now alert, and climb into his lap, palms flat against his tanned chest. One hand goes to your hip, holding you in place. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not shy,” you repeat, brushing your lips over his. JJ’s chest rises and falls with harsh breaths, and for a second, you believe you misread the signals. He takes a quick pull of the blunt and you cover his mouth with your own, dragging the smoke back into your mouth, titling your head back, releasing it into the air.

“Fuck, that was hot.”

The blunt, now finished, falls from JJ’s fingers as his hand slides around to the back of your neck, pulling you in, kissing you hard. Your mouths mesh together, igniting a fire in your bones. Fingertips dig into his flesh, marking him. JJ’s hand on your waist pushes you further against him, impossibly close to his skin.

The sound of your heart is loud in your ears as you try to focus on moving your lips in sync. JJ’s hands roam your body, squeezing your hips, the curve of your ass. His fingers dance over your neck, your throat, and down the center of your breasts.

The tip of his dick rubs against the inside of your thigh, causing your mouth to open slightly. JJ takes advantage of the opportunity, slipping his tongue in your mouth, exploring, claiming.

You find yourself not wanting to stop. All of the nerves leave your body with each kiss JJ presses to your swollen lips. He’s hungry for more and so are you, but for something different.

He freezes when your hand disappears beneath the water, gripping his length in your palm. His wrist flies to your hand, stopping you, as his other hand runs through his hair, considering. “Listen, princess, as much as I really want to do this, I don’t think--.”

A finger to his mouth cuts him off, a sly smile playing on your lips as you shake his hand from yours. You reposition yourself over him, breasts peeking out from the water, as you slowly sink yourself down onto him.

With every groan that leaves his lips, and with each new swirl of your hips, you feel waves of confidence wash over your body. You’re drunk, he’s high, and you both feel alive.

This Friday night

Do it all again

The ceiling in your room distracts you from JJ’s face, which, if you know anything about him, has a wide grin on it. Heat bubbles in your chest as you replay the story in your head, ignoring JJ’s teasing comments about the color rising in your cheeks.

Sitting up abruptly, you turn to face him. He’s leaned back on your pillows, arms behind his head. “After that, we fucked right here,” JJ pats the bed proudly. “And that, baby girl, was your Friday night.”

Well, it could have gone much worse.

“Sounds like I embarrassed the ever-loving fuck out of myself.”

JJ laughs, holding out his arms. You send him a look before complying, hooking your leg over his waist, resting your head against his bare chest. His one arm lazily wraps around you, the free hand skimming over the skin on your thigh.

“I am never having another party ever again.”

JJ cringes. “Yeah, about that…you might want to check your phone.”

You snatch it from the night stand, crossing an arm over your chest as you read messages from a very large group chat. “JJ…why’s everyone talking about a party?”

But he doesn’t get the chance to answer as you scroll to the very top, phone falling between your legs as you read the message you drunkenly sent before you passed out at three in the morning.

Party at our house this Friday night! Let’s do it again, bitches.

You stare at JJ, palms flat against your head as he falls off the bed in laughter.

Fuck.

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