#i’ve had this app for so long and this break i’ve taken has been one of the best things i’ve done

[kookiesbuckethat]

silent treatment

jungkook x f!reader

Genre: angst to fluff, hurt/comfort

WC: 3.0k

<series masterlist>

taglist: @awinkies @wedarkacademia @yiyi4657 @astralandcosmos @scuzmunkie @mooonlitstars @manchuria @joondiary @ygimsgw @kookiwu @yoongititss @hopestastic

Balancing a tray of food in one hand, Jungkook knocks on the door to your home office door with his other, twisting the door handle when he receives a muffled, “come in.” As you turn around in your office chair to face him, Jungkook flashes you his cute bunny smile as he walks over to you, placing the tray on your desk.

You let out a groan as you rub your temples, closing your eyes to try and dispel the pain. “What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks, concerned as he leans on your desk. “I have a headache,” you mumble with a slight pout on your lips. Jungkook chuckles at your adorable expression, cooing at you as he leans down to place a kiss on your forehead.

“Maybe that’s because you haven’t taken a break in hours,” he suggests as he nudges the tray closer to you. Rubbing at your eyes that have become irritated from staring at your bright computer screen, you blink rapidly to clear your vision before scanning over the contents of the tray Jungkook brought, finding an array of your favourite snacks, some fruit that has been cut up into hearts and a glass of water. 

Picking up a piece of fruit, you pop it into your mouth, smiling as you imagine Jungkook cutting fruits into hearts in your kitchen. Picking up another piece of fruit, you hold it up for Jungkook. He bends down, gladly eating it from your hand before standing back up. “Come to bed soon, alright?” he reminds you of the time since he knows you tend to get caught up in your work.

You nod, eyes already back on your screen as you get back to work. You thank Jungkook for the snacks as he places one last kiss on your head before exiting your office, softly closing the door behind him. Content knowing you would at least eat the snacks he brought you, Jungkook enters your shared bedroom, flopping on the bed and going on his phone as he waits for you to come to bed.

It had been a long and hard few weeks at work but you finally had a day off tomorrow and for once, Jungkook’s day off lined up with yours. You two planned to go out together and just enjoy a day to yourselves. You didn’t want to have to worry about work at all while you were with Jungkook so you wanted to finish everything the night before.

Yawning for the seventh time in the past hour, Jungkook closes the app he was scrolling through, glancing at the time displayed at the top of his phone. Reading 12:01 am, Jungkook puts his phone down on the nightstand before letting out a sigh as he stands from the bed, making his way back to your office thinking you must’ve fallen asleep at your desk again.

But when he reenters your office, you’re still awake sitting in front of your desk, typing away on your computer. “Y/n?” Jungkook calls out to you, “Aren’t you coming to bed soon?” You simply hum in acknowledgement, not giving him an answer as your eyes remain glued to your screen. Slightly irked by your ignorant behaviour and the fact that he’s been waiting nearly two hours for you to come to bed, Jungkook pinches the bridge of his nose as he lets out a sigh. 

“Y/n,” he calls again, his patience quickly thinning out, “It’s past midnight. You’ve worked enough for today.” But you continue to ignore him, acting as if he’s not even there. “Are you even listening to me?” Jungkook asks, the irritation now clear in his voice. Frustratedly slamming a hand on your desk, you snap coldly, “What do you want?”

“Well if you’ve been listening to anything I’ve been saying you would know that it’s already past midnight and you should come to bed!” he raises his voice slightly. With the pounding of your head more intense due to lack of sleep, you’re equally as irritated, if not more. “Well maybe now you see how it feels when you don’t listen to me when you’re overworking yourself,” the words fall out of your mouth before you can think, regret immediately washing over you.

Memories of all you’re fights and arguments about Jungkook overworking himself flood your mind. It was inevitable with his career and although you two always worked through it, the guilt never left Jungkook. He had opened up to you about his fears and insecurities: that it would all become too much for you and he wouldn’t be able to give you what you deserved. But you always reassured him that he was enough, that you would always support and take care of him and you two could work through anything together.

So when you use one of his greatest insecurities against him, Jungkook can’t help but feel betrayed. Full of guilt and regret, you remain frozen facing your computer. After a few tense moments, you hear shuffling behind you before you hear the sound of your office door being shut, followed by Jungkook’s retreating footsteps. Letting out a groan, your head falls into your hands as you realize how badly you just fucked up. 

The situation did nothing to aid your pounding headache or your irritable state, only adding to the frustration you feel. You probably should have listened the first time Jungkook told you to take it easy. And you most definitely should not have said what you said to him. But you weren’t thinking straight, your mind only focused on finishing so that you wouldn’t have to worry about work during your break. 

Shutting off your computer, you let out a sigh before turning off the lights and getting ready to turn in for the night. When you enter the bedroom, you find Jungkook already asleep with his back turned to you. And if he is awake, he doesn’t acknowledge you so you decide to give him some space, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead before going into the bathroom for your nightly routine.

Determined to make it up to him, you set an alarm for early tomorrow morning before shutting your phone off and falling asleep with Jungkook’s back turned to you.

Waking up the next morning, you let out a quiet groan as you regret making yourself wake up early on a day off. In hindsight, it wasn’t that early. It was around the normal time you both would wake up for work but when you don’t have places to be, it feels pretty damn early. 

But you don’t want this fight to ruin your day together so you force yourself out of bed, padding out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. You want to start cooking so that by the time Jungkook wakes up, it’ll all be ready. Pulling out all the ingredients and equipment you need, you start preparing a big breakfast consisting of all Jungkook’s favourite foods. 

But just as you’re about to crack some eggs into a pan, you hear the bedroom door open, followed by the sound of Jungkook’s approaching footsteps. Your brows furrow in confusion since Jungkook usually sleeps in on days that he doesn’t have work. “Jungkook?” you call out in confusion, looking over your shoulder to find him already dressed for work. 

He ignores you as he crosses the room and even though you know he’s giving you the silent treatment, you ask anyway, “Where are you going?” He glances at you through the corner of his eye when he reaches the front door. And even though he’s still upset with you, he doesn’t want to worry you. “Work,” he answers shortly as he grabs his coat from the coat rack. “But we’re not supposed to work today,” you remind him, hoping that Jungkook just forgot. 

You know that Jungkook heard you but he remains silent as he puts his coat on and it’s then that you realize he didn’t forget but he simply didn’t want to be with you today. Your vision starts to blur with tears as you watch him slip his shoes on but just as he stands back up, you look away so he can’t see your watery eyes or your trembling lips. Jungkook wills himself not to look at you but when he hears you sniffle, his head whips in your direction. He can’t see your face but he can tell you’re crying by the way your shoulders shake. 

He’s aching to pull you into his arms and whisper apologies and comforting words into your ears, but Jungkook ignores the way his heart calls out for you and the way his heart cracks as he walks out the door knowing he’s leaving you alone. 

Absolutely crushed that you would no longer be able to spend your day with Jungkook like you planned, you half-heartedly finish cooking breakfast. Dejectedly sitting alone at the table, you try to eat a few bites but your appetite is lost. Scraping your unfinished food into the bin, you pack the rest into the fridge before spending the rest of the afternoon moping around. Familiar with his usual work hours, you know he won’t be home for lunch, but you hold onto the small flame of hope in your heart that you’ll at least be able to have dinner together. 

But after spending more than three hours preparing dinner and waiting another hour more for Jungkook, you start to get worried. He’s usually home by this time but he hasn’t texted or called to let you know he’ll be out late. And when he doesn’t answer any of your texts or calls, you call one of the other members, hoping they know where he is and if he’s okay.

Scrolling to find Jimin’s number, you press the phone icon. “Hey, what’s up?” he picks up on the second ring. “Hey Jimin, is Jungkook there?” you ask. “Oh yeah, we just started eating dinner. Do you want to talk to him? Here, give me a second,” you hear shuffling as he moves to hand the phone to Jungkook, causing you to start panicking. “No!” you exclaim into the phone a bit too eagerly. 

Clearing your throat, you tell Jimin that it’s not necessary but he’s already suspicious. “Is everything okay? Why didn’t you come tonight?” Jimin asks, finding it strange that you didn’t join them for dinner like you usually would. Your heart cracks a little at Jimin’s question. You didn’t know they were going out for dinner since Jungkook hadn’t told you, let alone invited you to join them. “I just haven’t been feeling well,” you lie, ignoring the tightness in your chest.

“Oh no, do you want Jin or Yoongi Hyung to make you some soup?” Jimin offers, worry and concern lacing his voice. “Oh, no it’s alright,” you politely decline, not wanting them to worry. “Are you sure? Do you need one of us to come over? Jungkook shouldn’t be leaving you alone when you’re sick,” he grumbles into the phone, ready to give the maknae a scolding once he hangs up the phone.

After reassuring Jimin that everything was fine and you were okay on your own, he finally lets you hang up the call only after making you promise to call if you needed anything. Hanging up the phone, you stare at the dining table with a heavy heart. Not even having the energy or motivation to pack it up, you simply lay your head on the table as you let your tears fall freely.

“Who was that?” Hoseok asks once Jimin puts his phone back in his pocket. “Y/n,” Jimin answers, causing Jungkook’s eyes to widen as they flick over to his Hyung. Jimin had a feeling that the reason you didn’t come wasn’t because you were unwell. Jungkook would never have left you alone if he knew you were sick, and the fact that you were calling to ask if Jungkook was there told Jimin that Jungkook must not have told you.

All the members thought it was a bit strange that you didn’t accompany Jungkook today, and the way he stiffens up at the mention of your name is a telltale sign that something is wrong. Narrowing his eyes at the maknae and ready to scold him, Jimin’s gaze softens when he sees the guilt and sadness in Jungkook’s eyes. “Did something happen between you two?” Namjoon asks.

After confessing and receiving a lengthy scolding as well as some advice, Jungkook leaves dinner feeling slightly lighter. It’s nearly midnight by the time he gets home, which is why it surprises him when the lights are still on as he walks through the front door. “Y/n?” he calls out, confused because you’re nowhere in sight. Placing his bag down, he walks further into the house, stopping when he finds you asleep on the dining table.

Guilt washes over him as he realizes he kept you waiting and failed to show up at all. Kneeling next to your chair, Jungkook gently pushes your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear. His chest pains with guilt when he sees the tear streaks on your cheeks. Carrying you to bed and tucking you in, Jungkook places a soft kiss on your forehead, wishing you goodnight and promising to make it up to you.

He knows it’s late and a very inconsiderate time to call anyone but he doesn’t let that stop him. Scrolling to find your boss’ number, he presses the call button with no hesitation, bringing the phone up to his ear and waiting patiently. “Hello?” Your boss, Mrs. Kim picks up on the third ring, confused as to why anyone would be calling at this time.

“Hi Mrs. Kim, this is Jungkook, y/n’s boyfriend,” Jungkook speaks into the phone. “How can I help you Jungkook?” Mrs. Kim asks, still not fully understanding why he was calling at this time. After charming his way into your boss’ heart, Jungkook hangs up the call, happy that his plan is coming along.

It was actually much easier than he thought. Mrs. Kim knows how hardworking you are and was more than happy to give you another day off, telling Jungkook to make sure you rest well. Tiptoeing his way back into the bedroom, he finds your phone on the bedside table, turning off your alarm before climbing into bed beside you.

Groaning at the bright sunlight shining down on your face, you turn away from the sun, burying your face in Jungkook’s pillow. It takes your brain a few moments to realize that the sun is never usually this bright early in the morning. Scrambling for your phone, you start to panic when you realize that you slept in. Had you forgotten to turn your alarm on?

Tangled up in the blankets, you nearly trip and fall as you climb out of bed, stumbling a few steps before you reach the door. Yanking it open, you run face-first into Jungkook’s chest but he places an arm around your shoulders to steady you. Absorbing the impact, Jungkook almost drops the tray he’s holding, barely balancing it in the palm of his other hand.

He lets out a breath of relief as you stare up at him in confusion, as he should be long gone for work by now. Chuckling at your frazzled and confused state, he leads you back into the bedroom. “I’m late Jungkook!” You try to resist him. “I called in for you,” he explains shortly. You’re confused as to why Jungkook called in for you and why he’s still here but you let him guide you back to the bed with no complaints. 

While you situate yourself against the headboard, Jungkook places the tray on the bedside table before settling next to you and pulling you into his lap, your back against his chest. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he mumbles into the crook of your neck, “I’m sorry.” You place your arms over his which are wrapped tightly around your waist, leaning into his embrace. 

“I’m sorry too. You know I didn’t mean it, right? I love taking care of you, it just hurts me to see you overworking yourself,” you tell him as your voice starts to waver and your eyes start to water. “I know, I know,” he gently hushes you as he comfortingly rubs his thumbs over your sides, “It hurts me too when you overwork yourself.” You will your tears not to fall as you apologize for both snapping at him and worrying him. 

Pulling away from your neck, he tells you, “Don’t cry, okay? I forgive you.” You nod  but you can’t help the stray tear that trails down your cheek. Gently wiping it away, Jungkook simply holds you in his arms for a moment. You forgive each other easily as you both understand where the other is coming from and you love each other too much to stay mad for long. Jungkook gives you a comforting smile before he reaches for the tray on the bedside table and places it on your lap. “I was able to get today off and your boss gave you today off as well. We can spend the whole day together like we planned,” he informs you.

“Why didn’t you wake me up? We’ve already lost half the day and we could’ve made breakfast together,” you pout at him. “Let me spoil you sometimes,” he says as he picks up a piece of fruit from the tray and feeds it to you. Even though this was his way of apologizing to you, you felt apologetic and wanted to make it up to him as well.

Frowning at him as you chew, you swallow before stubbornly telling him, “I’m making lunch then.” Playfully rolling his eyes at your stubbornness, he nods in agreement knowing that you won’t take “no” for an answer. “Fine, but we’re making dinner together. I miss cooking with you,” he says as he places a kiss on your temple. 

Even though you two originally planned to go out for your day off together, it was the little moments like cooking together or feeding each other breakfast in bed that you lived for.

#bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungguk x reader #bts #jeon jungkook #jeon jungguk #Jungkook #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts drabble #bts fluff #bts angst #bts hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst

[a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual]

These Nimona headcanons are a day late cause yesterday was my first day at the new job and I got carpal tunnel

Bal can’t stand the sounds of knuckles cracking or joints popping 

Which is funny because like I said in this post I know that man sounds like pop rocks when he stands up 

What’s funnier is both Nimona and Ambrosius crack their knuckles any chance they get 

Ambrosius tries to do it away from Bal but Nimona does it in his ear on purpose 

One time Bal punched someone and he freaked out not because he knocked the dude out cold 

But because his knuckles cracked when he did it and he claims it felt disgusting 

I feel like you can really tell a lot about someone when it comes to their phone and the same can be said for the trio 

Bal’s phone is weirdly high-tech even by their societies standards 

When he was recovering after the wall fell he had a lot of time on his hands and just started to mess with his phone 

He doesn’t have a lot of apps on it you can tell he doesn’t really touch it unless he needs it 

He does however have an app that plays audio books because he likes listening to them on long car rides 

Ambrosius phone is the most bare-bones phone you can possibly buy 

It doesn’t have any bells and whistles at most it can call text and maybe has a couple of games on it but that’s it 

He has little to no storage and he asked Bal for help 

Bal was shocked to find out that most of his storage was being used on photos 

And that's how he found out Ambrosius has a million photos of him and Nimona just sitting on his phone

Sometimes it’s the same photo from different angles  

He doesn’t know if he should be crying or terrified cause he doesn’t remember half of these being taken

Nimona’s phone like Ambrosius is very bare bones 

He only really uses it to call and text and sometimes listen to the music he illegally downloaded 

His phone has 15 viruses because of this and Bal has given up trying to save it 

The phone is also cracked to high heaven and no one is sure how it’s still functioning 

I’ve had this idea for a while but I feel like sometimes Nimona will make incredibly outdated references 

Sometimes it’s like 20 years and sometimes it’s 500 

And she’ll have to sit the person down and explain the entire reference to them

Which is hard because sometimes the reference is deeply involved with the history that’s been purposefully covered up

So then she’ll have to give a full-on history lesson 

And you’d think she would get annoyed by this but no

She actually gets really excited explaining the history that’s been lost and why that history has been covered up 

It’s one of her special interests that she can go on about forever 

What’s even funnier is when someone references something from a long time ago and they’ll just look at them and go “How the fuck do you know that”

I find the idea of Nimona not being able to handle spicy food but loving it at the same time hilarious 

Especially considering the fact that they’re living with two Asian men and Asians don’t play about spice (I swear to this day my Mama burned both her and my tastebuds off) 

They try really hard to look tough and eat all the food they’re given 

But snot is running down their face and there are tears in their eyes and they need to take constant breaks 

Poor baby coughs when you add sriracha to their food 

Whereas Bal and Ambrosius are out here guzzling hot sauce like it’s water 

Nimona prays on their downfall while also begging the boys to teach them their ways

#nimona 2023 #nimona movie #nimona headcanon #nimona #ballister boldheart #ambrosius goldenloin #ballister x ambrosius #goldenheart #I just know Nimona has the spice tolerance of a new born baby #my whole arm hurts y'all #the pain has spread #I can't even hold my tooth brush #help

[soulmate-game]

Chapter 6

(Yes, Marinette and Damian disconnected Audio only before they went to her hotel, so no Tikki reveal sorry!)

Prev First Next

—*—*—*—*—*

Back at the Batcave, Robin was the first to change, sit through debrief, and go to sleep. Nobody questioned him, knowing full well his motives. The other vigilantes however, despite being back in their civvies, were not so quick to end the night.

“You all heard that, right?” Jason asked. Oracle, also known as Barbara Gordon, rolled her eyes. She backed up in her wheelchair and turned to face everyone else.

“What, the part where Marinette made you coo when she essentially defended you and said she still thought of you as a good person?”

Jason rolled his eyes. “I mean yeah, that part was pretty nice. But I’m talking about everything she said about Paris,” the man clarified, leaning back in a chair so that the front two legs lifted off the ground. “She was geared and ready to continue listing examples of Akumas. I doubt she even listed half of the ones that were centered around or targeting her. And having to go through all of her classmates becoming villains, even temporarily?” He shook his head. “That kinda shit doesn’t leave anybody unaffected.”

“Especially what she said about the mermaid monster Akuma,” Tim agreed, pulling up a story on the computer. “I’ve pulled up the reports from both the Ladyblog and the AkumaWatch app. They seem to agree on everything, so I think this was back when the Ladyblog was still reliable,” he pulled up a video taken by the girl who ran the Ladyblog, Alya Cesaire. Marinette’s former best friend and current classmate. The commentary was all in French, but Tim had went ahead and added quick English subtitles for everyone. The wonders of having a supercomputer. The video was taken from a high roof, and showed the water flowing so high that it completely covered most buildings. It would have definitely caused enough pressure to break open windows and fill those buildings on the inside too.

“Woah! It looks like they can transform!” The voice of the reporter said in French, pointing to the distance where two blues of red and black hopped onto a building. The girl zoomed in, her phone’s camera just barely able to show an out-of-focus Ladybug and Chat Noir with different patterns to their uniforms and fins. The cat-themed hero managed to pull an entire car, and as they soon sound out, temporary supervillain Syren, out of the water all on his own. “Aqua suits! That’s so cool!”

It was obvious, however, that the girl’s voice shook a bit. She kept the camera purposely pointed as high up as she could while still catching the heroes and the destruction of the possessed item on screen. There were blurred images all across the surface of the water, which the heroes knew to be censored bodies.

“Only a couple thousand out of two million Parisians survived, that’s what Marinette said,” Barbara breathed, eyes wide. “Seeing it like this really makes it all real,” she clenched her jaw. They all continued watching as what was simply dubbed as Ladybug’s Miracle swept through the city in a shockwave o ladybugs, and the water disappeared. They watched as Alya aimed the camera down and caught very alive people popping up in the streets or on top of cars, wherever they had been right before getting carried away by the vicious waves.

Every hero in the Cave saw people of all ages down there, shimmering back to life. From month-old babies to old men and women.

It was both wonderful and horrifying.

After the video ended, the entire cave was silent for a long moment. Jason was the one that spoke up, to no one's surprise.

“What the fuck?” He growled, no longer leaning back in his chair. Both of his fists were clenched. “This has been on the internet for almost three years! How did we not see this before? How did we never know?” He asked, to which nobody had an answer. But the Bat himself had a hand on his chin as he studied the freeze-frame that the video ended on. Chat Noir and Ladybug fist-bumping.

“Maybe,” Bruce said slowly, as if tasting the words. “It’s time one of us visits the Paris branch of Wayne Enterprises. Ladybug and Chat Noir have been protecting the city for almost four years, it’s likely they know something about why the news hasn’t spread,” he mused. “Meanwhile, I will look into the League records. I never heard about a supposed prank call from France, meaning another piece of the puzzle is there.”

“There’s a problem with that though,” Tim pointed out. “Paris is essentially being held emotionally hostage. Anyone we send will have to be extremely capable of pushing down their negative emotions or transforming them into something positive. The last thing Paris’s heroes need is a supervillain with years of combat experience. Besides that, HawkMoth can telepathically communicate with his Akumatized villains. It wouldn’t be a stretch to assume that he can read their minds.”

“So not only would Paris’s heroes have to fight someone much more experienced than them, but our identities would be exposed,” Dick completed the thought, arms crossed. “That rules out Jason or Damian for sure. Which of us would be the most capable of avoiding strong negative emotions?”

When the First Robin looked up, it was to a raised eyebrow from his adoptive father and three fingers pointing straight at him from his brothers and Barbara.

“We can set up a flight for you for the day after tomorrow,” Bruce said with a grin that seemed way too smug for Dick, who was still gaping at everyone in betrayal. “Ask for the time off, okay? I can smooth things over if you need me to.”

“Oh, come on!” Dick threw his hands up. “I can be broody and mean!”

He was thoroughly ignored as everyone left to sleep for the night.

“Guys! You know what, fine, Paris is a gorgeous city. It’ll be like a vacation! Oh my god I just proved them right.”

—*—*—*—*—*

That night in the Mindspace was… well, Marinette’s insomnia reared its head and she entered it around three AM to find a very unamused Robin waiting for her.

“Honestly?” He asked, gesturing to the Tv screen. “You couldn’t have put some of the work off for tomorrow?”

Suddenly Marinette was very glad she didn’t talk to Tikki while working on her dress. The little Kwami had passed right out after the stressful day they both had.

“I have trouble sleeping sometimes,” she admitted shyly, shifting from foot to foot. “Sewing helps me relax. I want to be a fashion designer,” she explained, letting a soft smile overtake her lips. “I’m actually making my own dress for the Wayne charity gala at the end of the month.”

Robin’s eyebrows shot up over his domino mask. Once again, he was in his normal pajamas besides the mask that he donned after entering the mindspace. “Really? That’s pretty ambitious,” he told her, eyes going back to the screen. Then again, the snippets that he saw on the screen looked incredibly well done. Marinette’s face twisted up a bit in apprehension.

“Maybe a little,” she conceded. “But I’ve designed for Jagged Stone and Clara Nightingale. Even Gabriel Agreste and Audrey Bourgeois have asked for me to collaborate with them for a few pieces. Jagged and Clara commission me pretty often nowadays, and Jagged is a lot like an uncle to me now. I also design for local newscasters and other minor celebrities around town, and my best friend’s band Kitty Section,” She rambled, getting more passionate as she went. Robin actually found himself pretty impressed. The elder Agreste and Bourgeois both were notoriously hard to please names in the fashion industry, so to gain not just one but both of their attention and respect was a huge accomplishment.

“Perhaps I was incorrect then,” Robin amended. “With a portfolio like that, designing for the Gala is just the next small step up. I will look forward to seeing what you create,” he said honestly. His soulmate blinked, obviously caught off guard, before blushing furiously.

“Oh, uh, um, th-thank you!” She blinked again, the blush fading as she focused on the second meaning behind his words rather than just the flattery. “Wait, you’ll be at the gala?”

Robin had to hold back a smile. “It is a month away. I suspect by then you will have earned my identity. Soulmates tend to move faster than unbonded couples.”

Marinette gaped again. “Well. Uh. Thank you? I think. Wanna spar?”

It was Robin’s turn to be caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

“Do you want to spar?” She repeated, speaking at a normal pace instead of a tongue-twisting one. “Part of the reason it took so long to fall asleep is the adrenaline. It didn’t, uh, completely fade yet. And I’m still a little angry, but not enough to be dangerous in a spar.”

“I know,” Robin soothed, his calm tone a direct contrast to Marinette’s flustered rambling. “I felt the vibration when you were angry, both at GothCorp and on the roof when you punched the wall. You calmed down considerably fast, but the initial anger you felt at the woman lasted quite a while. It was very odd,” he tilted his head. “It left me very on edge. I cannot say I enjoyed it very much, but it was quite effective in getting the message across.”

Marinette laughed, nodding. Her own buzz of warning from Robin earlier had been very brief and low, barely a blip on her radar but enough to be felt. He had most likely just been upset for a moment. Marinette, on the other hand, had been burning up with her own fury.

“So, spar?” She asked again, smiling widely. “Maman says a good spar is one of the best ways to get to know a person,” she coaxed, leaning forward a bit. “Please?”

Robin snorted, standing up and stretching his arms. “You did not need to plead, I was about to accept either way. I could perhaps benefit from a new sparring partner.”

Marinette whooped, going to her half of the room. To her slight surprise, a new pink punching bag hung off to the side along with a few high bars for gymnastics. Taking a second, she turned to see that Robin’s own half of the mental world also had a few new additions. Weights, probably just for the familiarity of it, a few training dummies, and a punching bag of his own.

Neat! The girl thought excitedly, the last vestiges of anger draining away to be replaced by wonder. Soulbonds are so cool!

Shaking her head, she walked around to her sewing station and thought for a second. Her pajamas weren’t exactly a good outfit for a spar.

“Uh, how do we change clothes in here?” She asked, turning her head to look back at her soulmate. He, unsurprisingly, had already figured it out. The teen was now in exercise shorts and a perfectly fitting black tank top.

Marinette’s brain momentarily fizzled out.

Those arms! No, the legs! No, oh Kwami, I can see his abs. Shirts that tight should be illegal! Ohhh He has broad shoulders. Am I dead? I think I’m dead.

“Marinette? Are you listening?” The girl jumped, her object of torment suddenly standing with his arms crossed a few feet away.

“Huh? Oh yeah, totally. Just, uh, zoned out for a second.”

“Yeah,” he said with a raised eyebrow that just screamed disbelief. “I was saying that you simply imagine yourself in the outfit you wish to wear. This world is molded by our minds, after all.”

“Right. Easy. Got it,” Marinette nodded a little too fast, closing her eyes and imagining her usual exercise clothes. Black basketball shorts trimmed in red and a red tank top shone into existence, replacing her pink-and-white polka-dotted pajamas. Her hair, which was down from her taking out her pigtails before bed, was up in a messy bun on the back of her neck er head. Once down, she opened her eyes and gasped in joy. She turned to look at herself in the full length mirror next to her sewing station.

Behind her, she had unknowingly left her soulmate in a situation he was wholly unaccustomed to.

Perhaps I should have expected this, he thought sluggishly, feeling really caught off guard. His mind flashed to the memory of her punch splintering odd a few shards of solid brick. But her arms didn’t look that toned in her blouse earlier. Then again, she was wearing long sleeves, he had to stubbornly keep his eyes respectfully above the hips. He knew if he didn’t, his gaze would linger far too long on her muscular thighs. Turn away. You are being indecent he scolded himself, deciding to retreat to the sparring mat first.

After a second to recover from having caught Robin staring at her in the mirror— well, we ARE soulmates. It would be awkward if the attraction wasn’t mutual— Marinette joined him. Seeing as their bodies were not actually physical at the moment, they could skip stretching. Any hits they took would hurt momentarily to simulate the real world, but no actual damage would be taken.

“Ready?” She asked first, receiving a predatory grin in response.

“Are you?”

They both stood at the ready, their legs braced shoulder width apart and their arms tended but at the ready. To his shock, Marinette moved first.

The petite girl lunged, a very familiar high kick brushing uncomfortably close to Robin’s nose as he side-stepped the strike and attempted to grab her ankle. Marinette pulled her leg back too quickly, though, easily going right back into a defensive stance. Robin took the moment to get in close, aiming rapid punches at Marinette’s chest and torso. The girl proved to be just as flexible as she was strong, however, twisting around the wider strikes and batting away the ones she couldn’t avoid with her open palm. Each blocked punch sent a sharp sting through her hand, letting her know in no uncertain terms that she could not let even a single of his hits land.

The second Marinette saw an opening, she grabbed Robin’s bicep and heaved him over her hip. Instead of hitting the mat hard though, the seasoned vigilante tucked into a roll and popped right back up, leaping straight back at his soulmate. One of her punches glanced off his shoulder, forcing him to quickly recover his footing before he stumbled.

There’s that strength she showed earlier he noted. If that had been a direct hit, she might have dislocated my shoulder.

Robin leapt over Marinette’s head, slamming one knee up towards her back. The smaller teen was able to avoid a direct kit, but Robin’s knee still managed to clip right under her left rib cage. Instantly, she felt herself gasp for air. Mon dieu, that’s ridiculous! She thought, quickly hand-springing back to gain some distance as she caught her breath. My body gets a little sturdier outside the suit the longer I use the Ladybug Miraculous, but if he had hit me straight on I would have been down!

Both teen heroes were already slightly out of breath, staring at each other from opposite sides of the mat. They didn’t notice right away, but they each had the same breathless smile overtaking their face. They jumped back in towards each other at the same time.

Their spar was a flurry of punches and high-kicks, flips and ankle-swipes. They landed hits and got hit. Marinette got hit less often than Robin, purely due to her acrobatics and flexibility, but Robin’s tolerance for punishment was leagues (ha, bad joke) higher than Marinette’s. Even though he took more hits, he was in better shape than she was. Therefore, even though each of their strikes carried roughly the same force, it was clear Marinette was the one slowly losing ground. Marinette didn’t have her indestructible suit or enhanced abilities to help her out, at least not beyond what prolonged use of the Ladybug enhanced, but she was holding her own very well despite it.

It was almost twenty minutes —the mindspace making normal stamina levels irrelevant— before Marinette finally managed to grapple Robin and send them both tumbling onto the mat. They wrestled for a long moment, finding their physical strengths almost matched, before Robin finally managed to wrap his arm around Marinette’s throat and pin her legs with his own.

They were both gasping for breath by that point and, even though she lost, Marinette found herself laughing in glee. Robin’s grip loosened briefly before he completely let go, unwinding himself from her and standing up. He didn’t laugh like she did, but he was grinning widely and let out a few soft chuckles. He extended his hand down to his still-giggling soulmate, who grabbed on and allowed him to help her up.

“That was great!” She gushed. “I mean, sure, it stinks that I lost. But I’ll get you next time!”

“I fear you might not be wrong,” Robin admitted with another soft chuckle. “Not all of that was martial arts,” he said, clearly questioning her fighting style casually. Marinette rubbed the back of her head sheepishly.

“Ah, yeah. I took gymnastics as a kid. And my friend Kagami has been trying to teach me how to fence, but I just end up using those movements in melee instead. I’m okay with a foil, but I’m nowhere near the best. Kagami says I’m a natural, but I think she’s just sparing my feelings. And, uh, the whole parkour thing I mentioned.”

“Right. Parkour,” Robin agreed with a nod that Marinette knew meant he didn’t believe her but wouldn’t push. For now.

Marinette’s lips slowly widened into a devilish grin. “Hey, do you play Ultimate Mecha Strike Five?” She asked slyly, and Robin narrowed his eyes through his mask.

“Why do I feel like agreeing would be a mistake?”

“That’s a yes!” Marinette cackled and dragged Robin over to his couch. “Come on, let’s play!”

Seeing as both of the were asleep and their other senses inaccessible through the Tv, it allowed them to load the game. Surprisingly enough, Robin actually put up a decent fight.

Unsurprisingly, Marinette still won. Five times in a row.

“Alright,” Robin put his controller down, glancing over at an all too smug Marinette, crossing his arms. “Let's recap; I’ve discovered the situation in Paris is bleaker than I thought, you are surprisingly strong for your frame, you are much better of a fighter than you let on, and you have a vengeful streak.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Marinette cooed, her hand over her chest as she fluttered her eyelashes with false innocence. Robin just deadpanned at her. “I am completely innocent! An angel! I would never stoop to petty revenge over losing a spar!”

“Uh huh,” Robin said blandly. “Let’s revisit this argument when you decide to be more truthful, ‘Angel’.”

“Anytime, birdboy.”

—*—*—*—*—*

Thankfully, the next few days weren’t as hectic as the first twenty-four hours. Robin did have school and vigilante business to see to, so he and Marinette only met in their Mindspace for the rest of the week. Which wasn’t bad, even on nights when one or the other stayed up so late that they only had three or four hours in the mental world. Somehow, despite their brains remaining constantly active, the magic is the soulbond always left them more refreshed when they awoke than they would normally feel after that amount of sleep. And Marinette had her own things to do with her class, which included a brief (and very therapeutic) two-day visit to Metropolis since it wasn’t far away, to broaden the sights they could see. When they got back, they had one full rest day where they and a buddy could visit anywhere they wanted, provided they stayed within three blocks of the hotel and called to check in with Bustier every two hours.

The class, used to recovering from terrifying circumstances, had almost completely recovered (as much as could be expected, anyway) from their GothCorp nightmare by the time they returned from Metropolis. Lila had quietly thanked Marinette the day after the attempted robbery, but followed the thanks with a threat to never make her look weak again.

So, suffice to say, the liar was back to her usual tricks after the brief reprieve of the Metropolis visit as well. Milder than usual, sure, but still back to normal.

Meanwhile, Richard Grayson had seemingly spontaneously asked for vacation time in order to help his adoptive father out with company business in Paris. He landed in the City of Lights the same day that the Parisians got back into Gotham. He quickly realized that this trip would take more than just a few days. In fact it wasn’t until Friday, exactly one week after Damian had met his Soulmate, that Dick found the ability to track down the Parisian heroes.

Akuma alert sirens rang all around the city, confirming for the experienced hero that the natives had gotten accustomed to the constant havoc. Those who had been around since the beginning of the Akuma terror ran towards shelters with practiced speed.

It was the perfect distraction for Dick to change into Nightwing and take to the rooftops. Upon reaching the Eiffel Tower, the blue clad hero saw a bizarre scene. A male dressed in an aqua colored, snake-themed uniform and a petite female in a red, black, and gold uniform with a spiral down one leg were facing off against…

A… Giant… Cat lady...

Not even a giant half-cat person. She was a legitimate fifteen-foot tall old lady in classic Cat Lady attire. Knitted cat-embroidered shawl, cat-eared knitted beanie, a crochet needle that she was using to hypnotize cats and change their size and species. Her skin was bright orange with shiny silver tiger stripes, and her face had giant black glasses in the shape of a domino mask.

It was really, really weird. She had two twenty-foot panthers and a lion that was half the size of the Eiffel Tower growling at the two heroes who, surprisingly, didn’t look very affected at all by the fever dream they were facing. Smaller house cats were all slinking out of the nearby streets to ominously surround the two heroes, their eyes all glowing bright gold.

“You know, Chat would be making so many puns right now,” The red hero, Ryujo if Dick remembered correctly, mused as the two analyzed their options.

“He would also be making a lot of ‘family shouldn’t fight’ jokes,” the surprisingly zen male replied, flipping up and out of the way onto a nearby roof. “This should be easy, but I will provide backup if you need it.”

“Don’t worry Viperion, I got this,” Ryuko brushed off. “Water dragon!”

The hero turned into water before Nightwing’s eyes, swirling around the square. The water scared off the smaller cats, and the lion recoiled slightly, but it and the panthers lunged anyway, trying to catch the stream of water. The floating river easily avoided every strike, winding around the old lady’s crochet needle when they weren’t looking and snapping it in half.

A purple butterfly, exactly like those Dick had seen in the videos he and the others watched as research and exactly how Marinette had described them, fluttered out of the broken object. A quick flash of yellow darted onto the scene, a bee-themed woman carrying an ornate pot with Chinese engravings on it flew over and trapped the butterfly in the pot.

“There!” She said triumphantly, smiling wide. The crazy cat woman faded away, shrinking down into a cute little, completely normal, old lady with her gray hair in a high bun.

“Oh dear,” she brought a hand to her cheek. “Where am I? What happened?”

Nightwing watched as the heroes comforted the victim, watching as Queen Bee and Viperion left in one direction and Ryuko, whose choker had started beeping, left in another.

He followed the two paired up heroes.

—*—*—*—*—*

#maribat #mlb x dc #ml x dc #dc x mlb #dc x miraculous #damimari #platonic jasonette #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #maribat fic #the hero’s game

[mariacallous]

(JTA) — It was a slow trickle, each long press of the finger and ensuing quick tap was days and sometimes weeks apart (it’s hard to comprehend that a whole month has passed since Oct. 7), but I am here to tell you that I — a former social media manager — have removed each and every social media app from my phone.

In fact, as I was writing this very esssay, I realized I still had Threads downloaded, opened it for a minute, saw a Thread that said “Zionism is antisemitism,” and promptly deleted that, too.

I have zero desire to restore a single one of them.

What happened to me has probably happened to you, too. I saw a Tweet, a TikTok, an Instagram Story that filled me with such fury and indignation that I spent hours — sometimes days — formulating and reformulating an epic, fact-based, emotionally charged, imagined response. Imagined, of course, because I knew I’d never post it. I’ve seen so many celebrities and random acquaintances do such utterly embarrassing and harmful and reputation-destroying things in the last weeks to even dare to try.

And to be clear: I would try if I thought I could change someone’s mind and force them to see my humanity, but beyond the small, intimate, personal conversations that I can have off the apps, I feel like these enraged indignant responses only seem to silo people further.

I’ve worked in social media since 2014 — in the Jewish realm of social media, specifically. That means I’ve seen a lot of awfulness, gas chamber memes, overt antisemitism and Islamophobia. I’ve personally been told many times to go back where I came from (which, yes, is Israel, and that feels grimly funny now). Yet I’ve also believed in its power to heal, to make people feel seen, to energize activism, to educate.

I still believe that — kind of? But I’ve also never seen it this awful, this polarizing, this … honestly, unhinged. An unscientific poll of people I know seems to indicate the same thing: Social media is the worst it’s ever been, maybe because the Israel/Palestine conversation has always been so impossibly polarizing.

People are so stuck in their “side” and binary that they’re willing to share anything — without fact-checking, without making sure they’re not getting in bed with people whose worldview is dangerous, without asking themselves for a small second, wait, is this Islamophobic? Antisemitic? Completely detached from reality? Without wondering if they sound like a conspiracy theorist, or if they’re just being cruel for cruelty’s sake.

And the amount of words wasted on misinformation and meanness doesn’t even compare to the number of words some people insist on putting into other people’s mouths (or keyboards, rather) when their statement doesn’t 100% pass whatever standards they’ve arbitrarily decided it must. Beyond Israel and Palestine, we’ve been tearing ourselves apart inside our Jewish community, and that also breaks my heart.

I understand the deep grief and rage behind most posts. I’ve been enraged and grieving myself. I’ve been scared too: Of the growing antisemitism. Of the people who tell me that I and my family, because we were born in Israel, can’t be innocent civilians, that we all deserve the horrors of Oct. 7 to befall on us.

I’ve also been scared for the life of every innocent person lost and about to be lost. Around 1,200 Israelis killed, 300 kidnapped, over 10,000 Palestinian lives believed to have been taken, all unfathomable numbers. And I’ve been scared about the cycle of rage and violence and siloed indignation that removes the humanity of a whole swath of people. Because I do believe that that’s part of what got us here. And I keep seeing it evinced, over and over again, on social media.

I am — unlike many “experts” newly minted by numbers of followers or magnitude of chutzpah — not an expert of Middle Eastern politics, despite being Israeli and working in Jewish media for almost a decade. I know a lot, but I am not a politician or historian. And yet, to the extent I believe that there is a solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, I believe that it has to be one that takes into account the inherent humanity of all those involved. I believe that it will be human and imperfect.

I’m awed by the people who are still managing to use social media for good right now, the little spots of light — people who parse through history and reality with wisdom and empathy, well-educated veteran observers of Israel and Palestine, academics, journalists, fierce activists, who, through immense pain, still manage to retain their humanity.

Yet for me, I’ve realized being on social media is doing more harm than good. It’s keeping me further away from solutions and useful action, and closer to rage and fear. So for now, I can’t stay there.

[mae-gi-writes]

A TURN OF PRIORITIES . PART THREE | BANG CHAN 

Synopsis: What happens when you and Bang Chan decide to fake a relationship for the sake of making your ex-boyfriend jealous? A turn of priorities, that's what.

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE

——

It’s kind of scary how one thing leads to another.

You’ve never taken yourself as a believer of karma. What goes around comes around, is what they all say. You wished to destroy your boyfriend’s new love life, and you’re now facing a destruction of your own.

You have a crush on your best friend. On the guy whom you’ve seen cry in the movie theatre because of some stupid romcom, on the guy who literally burns himself every time he pulls something out of the oven, the guy who blushes with embarrassment at everything and who has an obsession over Marine animals.

You have a crush on Bang Chan. And you’re not sure how to make it go away.

To top it off, you can’t even talk about it to Minji, considering that she thinks you’re already going out with him.

After the disastrous call that occurred between you and Chan that particular afternoon, you’d kept your phone on silent and hadn’t dared check your messages for fear of what you’d find there. It’s been two days since and you’re busy frying eggs for breakfast when the sound of your ringtone — sounding eerily ghostly in the silence of the flat — breaks through like an alarm, causing you to flinch.

You check the caller ID, before quickly pressing onto the green button and placing the device at your ear, “hey Minji.”

“Good morning sunshine, so I’ve heard you and Chan have been having a little fight?”

“What?” Your voice comes out a little louder than expected and you try to tone it down when you ask, “what are you talking about?”

“Oh don’t act innocent Y/N, I saw Chan in Chem today and he looked like his dog died or something. It was obvious something was wrong,” she says and you picture her rolling her eyes, “what happened?”

“Nothing happened,” you say firmly, hoping that it will be enough to persuade her in leaving Chan alone, “he’s just having a hard time because of exams. You know how stressed out he can get.”

Minji hums, “shouldn’t you help him out? He looks like shit.”

“I have,” you lie smoothly. The lies come out so easily now, it’s been such a long time since you’ve been truthful to her. A pang of guilt hits you straight in the chest.

“How about bringing him along to Eunchae’s christmas party? She’s a classmate of mine and she’s throwing one at her flat complex because her roomies won’t be here this weekend. That might cheer him up.”

Eunchae? Not that Eunchae, surely?

“I don’t think I know her.”

“Chan might, we’re in the same Industrial Design class.”

Oh. Well. That explains everything. Of course you don’t want to show your face there. Nor do you think Chan will.

“I’ll talk to him,” you hurriedly say and quickly end the call so as not to sprout any more lies. Then, opening your messaging app after what seems to be an eternity, you scroll down your list of contacts until you click on Chan’s name.

Y/N: sup bro.

Sounds innocent enough right? You can almost imagine that nothing had happened these past two days.

Taking your eggs out of the frying pan, you lay them neatly atop your two slices of toast before heading over to the tiny dining table in the corner. As you sit down, a notification pops up. Chan’s reply.

Chan: ???

Chan: I’m confused…

Y/N: About what?

Chan: are you secretly stalking me?

Y/N: …now I’m confused.

Chan: open the door.

Y/N: ???????

On cue, the doorbell rings and the sound makes you jump, yelping slightly as you do so. Talk about coincidence.

“Hi,” Chan grins at you when you open the door, not seeming at all upset by what had transpired two days ago. Not that you’re going to remind him. It’s none of his business, after all.

“Not to be rude or anything but isn’t it a bit early for you to be here?” You ask when you glance at the clock that reads nine in the morning. Knowing Chan’s bad habit of playing till the sunrise on days he doesn’t have any lectures, it’s quite a surprise to see that he’s up and functional so early in the morning.

But you regret it the moment the words slip past your lips, for Chan’s face suddenly takes on a color so red you might think he’s gotten sunburnt in the span of a few seconds.

You don’t have to put two and two together.

“I was…uhm…I was talking to Eunchae.” He hurriedly adds, as if to make up for his pathetic excuse, “about our chem assignment from last week—“

“Oh cut the crap Chan,” you interrupt him quite rudely, plopping yourself down at the table before resuming your breakfast as you motion for him to serve himself, “were you on a date?”

“I—uh—well, no. We were—studying together. Yeah.”

You scowl and he quickly goes to grab a mug to evade your stare.

“So,” you ask while he pours himself some coffee, “so why are you here then? Isn’t it a bit rude to ditch your real girlfriend for your fake one?”

“I actually wanted to see how my best friend was doing,” he shoots you a pointed look over the rim of his mug, “and like I said, it wasn’t a—a date.”

“You’ve seen me. Happy now?”

“Wow, what is up your butt today?”

“Nothing,” you look away, clear your throat, “nothing at all. Just—“

You break off without saying anything more and the silence is enough to cover whatever excuse you were going to come up with. The argument from a few days ago rings in the back of your mind and you wonder whether he’s as tormented about the topic of discussion as you are.

Oh, who are you kidding? He’s been on a date this morning. Clearly he knows exactly what he’s doing. Ad not feeling bad about it in the slightest.

And why should he? It’s not like you’re really dating!

“Hey,” it’s not his voice, but the touch of his fingers along your face. You blink, only to see him tucking a few stray strands behind the curve of your ear. An action he’s come to become familiar with from that last date. Still, it’s surprising, considering that Chan has never been so fond of touching other people.

“You wanna talk about what happened that night?”

Your eyes slip from his face to your empty plate. Something knots in the middle of your stomach. No.

“Nothing happened that night,” comes your mumble.

You feel him shift, and then, a soft lingering touch along the side of your arm. His shoulder, pressing into yours.

He’s warm. Warmer than you’ve expected.

A surge of comfort rises in the grooves of your chest.

“It really wasn’t a date, if you must know,” Chan’s mumble feels like a hundred knives pricking into your skin, “we were just working. Really—“

”I don’t care Chan,” you chortle.

He blinks at you, “Okay,” he drags out the word, then continues, “can I ask you something then?”

“What?”

“Why were you so upset that night? When I told you she liked me?”

“I wasn’t upset.”

He looks at you as if saying really? And unconsciously, your hands start moving around the cutlery along the plate; crossing them, uncrossing them. Crossing them.

“Okay fine, maybe I was.”

“What for?”

And that is when you give him a wan smile, “nothing that you should worry about, Chan. It’s girl things.”

“Don’t patronize me. That won’t scare me away like when I was younger.”

“Aw man, that used to work all the time,” memories of you taunting Chan about your period and the amount of blood drenching the toilet suddenly flickers through your mind, causing a small smile to dangle upon your lips, “but really, there’s no need to worry. I’m fine now.”

As much as you want to kick up a fuss about slowly losing your best friend to someone else, it wouldn’t be fair to the other girl for you to suddenly sprout your feelings out loud when he’s just gotten confessed to, especially when this is probably the first time since forever since he’s gotten a shot at normal dating life.

Who are you to interfere with his happiness?

“By the way, speaking of Eunchae,” you tell him right when he’s about to leave. Currently shoving his feet into his sneakers, he looks up at you, lips parted and in that particular moment, you feel you might kiss him.

“Uhm,” thoughts scramble as you try to stammer your way out of this sudden knot of flustered embarrassment, “will you be going to her party?”

“You’re invited?” He frowns.

“Y-Yeah. Minji invited me.”

Chan straightens then, body looming over yours and causing you to tilt your head up and— has he always been taller than you were? Your eyes flicker down to the arm slinging his backpack over his shoulder. Veins.

Oh, beautiful. You quickly snap your gaze away, “so, are you coming or not?”

“Are you?”

“Probably.”

“Then I’m coming,” a lopsided smile breaks cross his face, “can’t let my girlfriend go alone now, can I?”

Your heart stutters for a beat.

Your mouth opens, closes, then opens again. Speechless.

Chan merely chuckles before reaching over to ruffle your hair, “alright, see you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” you say blankly, not realizing that he’s gone until he’s halfway down the hall. It is only then that you manage to shake yourself out of this sudden reverie.

You quickly slam both hands cross your cheeks in growing irritation. Get a grip, Y/N! What is wrong with you?!

Girlfriend. He’d called you his girlfriend.

Not for long. But long enough.

——

You immediately feel like running away the moment you step through Eunchae’s apartment door.

The doorway is lit up with Christmas garlands — red and green and gold — partnered with fairy lights glimmering in welcome as you step through only to bump into someone’s back. The place is packed, god knows Eunchae is one of the popular kids at school, being one of the top pianists to be majoring in both music and science. The space is compact but open, with the kitchen on your far right separated by an island decorated in black and white marble. To your left is a spacious living room filled decked with vast couches of white-colored leather, on which sit a crowd of people engrossed currently engrossed in the Super Mario competition going on, shouts and jeers filling the air at intervals.

Regret pools inside your stomach and makes your mouth go dry. Maybe you should turn back, after all. You barely know this girl—

“Y/N!”

Shit. Too late. You swivel, coming face to face with none other than Minji. She beams at you, sparkly silver dress and heels to match, her face dolled up like a beauty pageant. She looks stunning.

“Hi,” you lean into the big hug she gives you, “there’s so many people here.”

“Yeah, Eunchae is a bit of a social butterfly. Let’s go say hello!” And before you can protest that maybe you should get a drink first, Minji is already tugging you along through the throng of bodies as the beats echo through the walls, seeming to come from the outside terrace.

“Eunchae!” Minji quickly directs herself towards a pretty girl with dyed blonde hair and a pretty smile who had been deep in conversation with one of the jocks that you recognized as Minho’s friend Seungmin, “hi! Thanks for inviting me!”

“Oh hey Minji, you made it!” Eunchae greets her back with a one-armed hug, then glancing over to you and grinning, “thanks for coming. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Y/N, you probably know her. She’s Chan’s best friend.”

“Oh!” Something lights up in Eunchae’s eyes, “so you’re the Y/N he keeps talking about. Lovely to finally meet you!”

You shake her hand, glad her fake nails aren’t piercing through your skin at this rate, “likewise,” you force a smile, knowing full well why Chan might be in love with her. You would be too, if you were a guy. She’s everything anyone has ever asked for.

Pretty, gorgeous, friendly…and most of all, a perfect fit for Chan.

“You haven’t gotten any drinks yet,” she remarks, grinning coyly before pointing at the marble counter on the far right, “please, go help yourselves. There’s everything but water.”

You find yourself cracking a smile, even chuckling a little as you raise a hand at her, “thanks, will try to find something drinkable.”

The party is now in full swing. Jeering, shouting, music blasting from the speakers and reverberating through your skull. With a glass of whisky and coke in hand, Minji doesn’t hesitate to drag you to the dance floor and together, you start swaying. The air smells of alcohol and sweat but you find you don’t quite mind, not when you’re busy enjoying the way the beats swim through your bloodstream as the alcohol takes over logic and reason.

At some point you feel a pair of hands fluttering over your hips. Turning with a scowl at the ready — and a fist curled just in case — you’re surprised to find that it’s Chan. But not Chan.

He’s gazing down at you in amusement, corner of his lips tilted and an eyebrow raised as if to as you what in the world you were doing. But he’s ditched the glasses and his hair is gelled up. His black t-shirt is fitted and the jean jacket he’s thrown over it subtly emphasizes the breadth of his shoulders.

You can’t help but suck in a breath. He looks gorgeous.

Instead you blurt out, “you’re late!”

“My bad,” Chan yells over the music and though it’s definitely not Chan behaviour to be touching you so casually, you actually don’t mind savoring his touch a little more and you lean in closer, slightly closer as he adds, “if it helps, Minho was the one who was late. I had to wait for him for thirty minutes.”

You chortle, rolling your eyes and take another sip of your drink, “d’you want one?” You wiggle it towards your best friend.

“Nah,” he shakes his head, nose wrinkling and you swear something clenches in your heart when he does that, “I’ll pass.”

“Weakling.”

He jabs you playfully in the ribs and you giggle, slinging an arm around his shoulder before dragging him to the dance floor. Minji appears a few seconds later with Minho in tow, hips swinging and with a smile so big it might tear her face apart as she hangs onto her boyfriend like he’s the only source of physical support. The act makes you turn away, gulp down the rest of your drink in hopes that it would take away the itch in your heart.

At some point in the evening you find yourself on the couch competing against complete strangers turned into friends, shouting as you urge your car to go fastest, dodging bananas and throwing your head back in laughter as the boy beside you received a red tortoise shell.

“Shit!” He buries his face into the pillow on his lap, “ugh! That’s it, I’m dead!”

You whoop in glee when the finish line appears on your screen, “And I won!”

“You’re just lucky,” he grumbles. Then, after a few beats of hesitation, reaches his hand out to you, “I’m Felix.”

“Y/N,” you shake his hand with a grin, “so I take it Mario Kart isn’t your forte?”

“You’re the one who probably rigged the game.”

“Oh I did not!” You gasp mockingly, “you’re accusing me right now?”

“Don’t lie to me, I saw the way your eyebrows were wriggling when we were playing.”

“Oh so I’m a witch now?”

He can’t help but laugh, “have we met before?”

“Not that I know of. I’m from the landscape architect major,” you lean back against the couch as someone else asks for the remote. You toss it to them before turning back to Felix, noticing the flecks of golden brown scattered across his face, “and you?”

“Bio-Chem.”

You throw your hands in the air, “why is everyone in Bio-Chem?!”

“Maybe because it’s the most popular major that our university offers?”

You shoot him a look, rising up from your seat to stretch, “I’m going to get a drink. You want something?”

“I’ll come with you.”

You make your way to the kitchen after having pushed through the crowd of people — it seems they keep increasing every hour — and it isn’t until you reach the kitchen counter that you spot Chan and Eunchae flirting, heads close together and giggling like sickly school children. It makes you want to hurl something.

Felix, unaware of your conflicted feelings, calls out, “hey Chan, man! Long time no see.”

“Hey,” Chan starts to grin, only for it to fall flat the moment his eyes find yours. Instantly, a frown clouds his brows, “you okay, Y/N?”

“Never been better,” you all but snarl, pushing past his figure to get to the fridge. You grab a new bottle of coke, pour yourself some. Grab the vodka to fill it up to the brim, the drink sizzling like a potion.

“You drunk?” Chan’s question throws you off guard. Spinning around to see him, a scowl imprints itself on your face, “not that it’s your business. But no, I’m not drunk. Thanks for asking.”

You don’t wait for your best friend to say anything else. Grabbing Felix’s elbow and pulling the said man out of the kitchen, you keep on walking until you’re finally out onto the terrace and the cool wind gently caresses your face, causes your hair to tickle your cheeks, cool them down. It’s a stark contrast to the heat along the back of your neck.

You hadn’t noticed it but Felix’s eyes are straying over your features, searching them as though you’re a puzzle he’s trying to decipher.

“You okay?” He finally yells out over the music, “you look like you’re gonna be sick.”

“I’m fine,” you force a smile. Then, you make a grab for his hand and tug him towards the dance floor, “come on!” You try to add some cheerfulness into your voice, “I want to dance!”

The hours easily slip by when you lose yourself into the music once more. You can almost ignore the small hole that’s slowly spreading across your chest every time Chan’s face flashes through your mind. Chugging drink after drink, you allow yourself to be woozy, to get drunk in an attempt to forget. You don’t want to think any more. You don’t want to hurt anymore.

So you keep on dancing. Dancing even if your feet hurt. Even if your heart is breaking.

Dancing even when Felix says goodbye because he has to go home.

It is only when a hand encloses itself around your arm that you whip around.

“What?!” You snap a little too harshly into Chan’s face, causing him to wince.

“You’re drunk<“ he says simply while dragging you out of the dance floor, “come on—“

“Let me go!” You’re turning and twisting against him, but he pays you no mind and that infuriates you even more. Hot tears start burning at the corner of your eyes as you keep on tugging at his grip, hating the way he thinks he can force you to see him when he’s the last thing you wish for at this very moment.

But Chan is too strong for you to compete, dragging you all the way to the bathroom before closing the door with a satisfied click.

Your body slumps against the closed toilet lid as a tired ache spreads through your calves, your legs. You’re tired. You’ve been dancing for god knows how long.

“What do you want?” You try not to slur your words. They come out slurred anyway, it’s easier said than done.

Chan lets out a soft sigh. He crouches before you so that his face becomes level with yours, and in his eyes you notice the concern swimming through those maroon pupils, hating the way it causes warmth to spread through your chest.

You look away, “stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t know what to do with me.”

“I really don’t know what to do with you,” he shakes his head, “why are you angry at me?”

“I’m not angry at you.”

“So what are you? Why are you looking at me like that?”

The words scratch your throat like sandpaper. But you blurt them out anyway, “because I can’t stand seeing you flirt with that Eunchae girl. It pisses me off—“

“So you’re jealous? Is that what it’s about?”

“I’m not jealous—“

“Then what is it? I don’t get it Y/N—”

“I don’t get it either!” You yell out with such emotion it makes him take a breath. A sob escapes your mouth, the words broken along your tongue, “I have no fucking clue and it’s fucking with my head! And I’m so tired! I’m so tired of—“

Your words drown in mid-yelp when Chan’s hands cradle your face, pull you in, to crash his lips to yours.

You gasp, wriggling in his hold; this is all going to end badly—

But his lips follow yours like a magnet, kissing your next set of words away as they dissolve upon your lips.

He’s warm. His kiss is warmer, lighting a fire inside your stomach and making you all but melt into him with a soft sigh.

Chan tilts his head, mouth slanting even more intimately against yours as your nose brushes his. It’s intoxicating, the way his lips move against yours like water currents finding a rhythm, the way his hands slide to your hips to grip them in place, rooting you to his chest.

A shudder runs through you, hands sliding up to the back of his head. A small moan echoes from the back of his throat, he kisses you deeper, tongue gently sliding out to run along your lips.

You part for him like warm butter and a wanton breath falls from your mouth the moment his wet muscle meets yours in a dance, an unfamiliar one, but not unwelcome. You can’t help but grip him tighter to you, tilting your head to match his rhythm, him pulling you so close you’re almost tumbling onto his lap.

You swear your entire brain is filled with fireworks, sparks exploding left, right and center as he keeps kissing you like his life is about to end, like you’re never going to see each other again. He kisses, you note, like a man starved of oxygen and he’s suddenly found an addictive source. Like a man on drugs.

You’re so entangled with each other that you’re not sure where your bodies end and begin, limbs entwined like barks on a tree. And it isn’t until Chan’s thumb gently slides over your rib cage that you let out a pained whimper.

He stills, drawing back ever so slightly to look into your eyes. His pupils are dark, dazed and drunken on the scent and the taste of you. Nobody says a thing for a whole minute as you keep on gazing at each other through heavy lids.

His mouth is perfect, puckered and pink from your assault. He’s beautiful.

You’re fucked.

——-

Yup. Definitely fucked.

You barely escaped Chan that night, having muttered an abstract excuse and quickly slipping past him while he was still in shock of your whole encounter. You were secretly glad and disappointed at the same time that he hadn’t come for you, hadn’t followed you out, and as you trailed back home in your now-broken heels, you couldn’t help but feel like something had ripped at the hope that had built inside your chest.

But as the true avoider of problems that you were, you decided that playing it safe but just ignoring the elephant in the room is the wisest choice at the moment. God knows Eunchae does not need to know what had transpired between you two, especially not when there is hope for a budding relationship. They’re not even going out, and yet you still feel sick. Who are you to be interfering? Why are you always interfering and getting in the middle of things?

So you play it cool, taking the December break as an excuse to not see Chan despite his messages pleading for you two to meet. He still wants some clarification as to what happened that night, but your head is still just as muddled and you have no idea what to say to him.

Chan: Y/N, I really need to talk to you.

Y/N: hey dude sorry, I’ll be a bit busy the whole month actually. You know with Christmas and everything. Let’s talk in Jan when we have some free time :)

Chan: Y/N this isn’t funny anymore

Y/N: nobody said it was supposed to be funny. I’m just busy.

Chan: please

Y/N: …I’m sorry.

He hadn’t responded after that so you hope that somewhere he’s ignoring you to spend some time with the girl of his dreams. Eunchae had been the first to outwardly say that she liked him, and it wouldn’t be fair for you to now confess your feelings.

Then, there was also the issue of Minji bugging you to double date again because of that stupid Christmas market that she simply could not go alone. Turns out that she’s quite persistent about it when she turns up in front of your flat on a Friday afternoon, flanked by both Minho and Chan.

You would’ve laughed at how hilarious the situation is — your ex-boyfriend with the guy you’re crushing on, if not for the fact that nothing had been resolved in the first place.

“I told you I’m not feeling good,” you say weakly as Minji quickly ruffles through your wardrobe, chucking what seems fit for this occasion while the two boys are waiting in the living room, “you guys should go without me.”

“Absolutely not. Chan looks miserable because you haven’t hung out with him at all these days. What’s up with that?” She looks over her shoulder at you, lips pursed, “did you have a fight or something?”

“No! Nothing like that.”

“Then make it right please. He’s been boring us with all his sulking.”

You wish you could tell her. You’re really aching for a second opinion. But everything is now just a mess that you have no idea how to clean and telling her would mean that you’d have to admit to all the ill feelings that had built up inside you all along.

You can’t do that to Minji, not even when she had been the one to steal Minho.

“Y/N, promise you’ll make it okay by dinner time? I can’t stand Chan like this any longer.” Minji pleads, bringing you back to reality.

You blink at her, try for a weak smile, “sure. I’ll try.”

It’s safe to say that the whole outing is awkward, what with you and Chan trying to avoid each other’s gaze while Minji and Minho are the perfect couple in love. Something inside your chest burns with jealousy, like a wildfire that can’t be put out no matter how much you look away. How come they get to be happy? How come you can’t share this happiness?

"Waaah look at all those lights!" Minji bounces from one foot to the other as you enter the market bustling with commotion. It's almost christmas time and people are busy buying gifts, apple cinammon wafting through the air on one side, crepes and chocolate on the other. Merchants are displaying pretty christmas pottery while some are exposing christmas sweaters, calling out people from the street as christmas jingles fill the air with excitement.

Your eyes take in the mulled wine brewing in the corner. Dang. That looks appetizing. And you probably need it.

A tug at your coat causes you to turn, blinking up at your best friend.

"We lost Minji."

He lets go to resume his walk and something lodges in the back of your throat at his posture. It'a tense, hands in pockets, like he doesn't want to be here.

"Hey Chan," you're quick to put a hand on his shoulder, causing him to glance down at you.

"What?" His eyes are searching, looking around to not focus on you. Your heart tugs with pain and you say, "can we...talk?"

"What, now?"

"Y--Yeah."

There's a beat of awkward silence as you wait for his answer. Then, Chan's hand grabs yours before he tugs and as you stumble against him you can't help flashing back to the way he'd gripped you to him that night, with almost desperate passion to kiss you senseless. Breathless.

It makes you warm all over.

There's a small area away from the big crowd, cozy and intimate with warming stations. Chan orders two mulled wines and brings them over to you, perched on a small wooden bench just big enough to fit two intimate individuals.

Your shoulder presses against his as he takes a seat and hands you your drink, which you mutter out a thank you before taking a sip. To be honest, you're not quite sure what to say, what to do, despite this being your idea.

You just know you have to make things right.

"I'm...sorry," you mutter into your cup in hopes that he'll hear, the shame burning the tips of your ears pink, "about avoiding you on purpose."

He takes a sip, shudders, "I just need to know why."

You press your lips together, "I...I didn't want things to get all complicated, especially with ...with you likig Eunchae and everything--"

"Who said so?"

You blink at him, "huh?"

"Who said I liked Eunchae?"

He looks away while taking another sip, not quite meeting your eye. You must be dreaming to see the slight blush scattering his cheeks and your brain tries to wrap itself around the new facts being thrown your way.

"Y--You did?" Your remark comes off more like a question. You swear something combusts in your chest as Chan turns to face you, thigh brushing yours while he leans a little closer so that you can feel the warmth of his breath.

"I said Eunchae liked me, but I never said I liked her back."

"You said you wanted to try it out with her."

"Yeah I did," Chan's eyes flit down to your lips, back up to your eyes and something in those dark pupils make you shiver, "until..."

You watch him, unsure. Your words are a mere breath, "until?"

He seems to struggle for words and something like hope sparks through your chest at the thought that maybe, just maybe--

No. Impossible.

"Y'know what, we don't have to have this conversation. You and Eunchae's relationship has nothing to do with me and I shouldn't be interfering," you stand up as you speak, already set on walking away in hopes that he doesn't see the way your heart is breaking, hurting, "let's go find Minji--"

Chan's fingers close around your wrist. He tugs you with enough force that it sends you toppling, yelping as you try to balance your cup--

Only to land in his lap.

One arm laces around your waist, the other slipping up to grip your chin and tilting your head down to face him. At this point, you're almost combusting in place, skin breaking out into sweat and heat rushing up to your face.

Chan's eyes meet yours. They lock, searching, gazing so intently you wish to squirm. Your brain's turned to mush.

"I--I--I--" you're a blubbering mess, scrambling away in protest. But Chan's grip is strong and you're secretly glad you're in a corner against a row of bushes hiding you away from most of the crowd, for this position is more than scandalous, "Wh--What do you--What are you doing Chan?!"

"Y/N," his voice, unlike yours, is calm. Controlled. He's looking at you with a confidence that makes you bite your lip and want to run away.

"W--What? Stop--stop looking at me like that."

An amused smile dances across his lips. He leans even closer, and holds you still when you try to lean back, yelping slightly, "like what?"

His breaths are warm, smell like mint against your skin.

His cup is long done and crumbled on the ground, and he plucks your cup gently from your hold to place it beside his.

"I--I don't know, just--stop, you--you're making me nervous!"

"Am I? He chuckles, "that's new." Pausing for a beat to take in your features, you avert your eyes and decide to find a sudden interest in a loose thread hanging off his shirt, “tell me the truth Y/N, why were you really angry that night?”

“What night?” You mumble in an act of defense.

Chan Chuckles lowly, “the night at Eunchae’s party. Why were you mad?”

“I wasn’t mad.”

“Y/N,” the way your name rolls off his tongue is enough to make you shiver and shut up. There’s a moment of silence where he searches your gaze, prodding, eyebrows furrowed and intent on your face. And you, teeth biting down onto your lower lip as a nervous knot builds in the back of your throat.

You can’t help but break underneath his gaze, “I…” you trail off, not sure how to say it aloud without sounding pathetic or stupid, “I was jealous. I was angry because I was jealous of you and Eunchae.”

“Why?”

Your eyes snap up to his, “because,” you murmur out brokenly, “I—I can’t stand the thought of you with someone else, because it makes me mad to think about the time you’re spending with her, because…because I like you.”

There. You’d said it. Out in the open. And Chan, his face unchanged, shifts you in his lap to get a better grip on your hips, his eyes darkening with emotion as he stares you down. It’s almost as if he’s still waiting for you to continue.

Your hands start wringing themselves together in knots, hoping that the ground would magically swallow you up and steal you away from this very moment. God knows you’re dying of shame and embarrassment with the way Chan is drilling holes into your skull.

“Chan?” You call out tentatively, “can you…say something?”

He takes a breath. Stills. His whole body quivers and he looks away for a second, as if needing to catch his breath.

And when he turns back to you, you’re glad you’re already sitting, for the warmth surging through his orbs makes your stomach giggly and legs feeling like jelly.

“Glad to know I’m not the only idiot who's in love,” he finally whispers out.

It takes you a minute. You blink. The words replay in your head. Wait—did he mean that? Is that what he’s actually saying? Does he—

No. This is a mistake. It surely is. It can’t be.

He chuckles, chest vibrating and breaking you out of your sudden reverie, “what’s with this face? You look like I just told you I was going to go to the North Pole.”

“N—No, I mean—What—Chan, I thought you—but what about—“ you’re a babbling mess at this stage and laughing even harder, Chan pulls you a little closer before his hand slides up to the back of your neck.

He doesn’t hesitate to pull you in. You don’t fight him.

The kiss you share is soft. Tender, and unhurried. Definitely unlike your first kiss in Eunchae’s bathroom. Chan is warm and tastes sweet and bitter at the same time, the tinge of mulled wine on his mouth as he draws away.

There’s a dust of blush on his cheeks and you can’t help but feel the satisfaction from that. At least you know you have that much of an effect. If anything.

“What about—what about Eunchae?” You can’t help but blurt out.

Chan presses his lips together. Then, he shakes his head, “I really enjoyed the attention at first. I never thought anyone would ever be interested in me. To be honest, I was curious,” one of his hands reach up to rub the back of his neck. Probably in nervousness, “but I don’t know. It didn’t click. I found myself…wanting to see you.”

“Hmm,” you hum, fingers playing with the material of his shirt, “interesting. Tell me more.”

“Ah wait a minute,” he frowns, “what about you? What happened to you and Minho? I never thought I was on your radar, until—“

“Until what?”

“Until you—“ the blush is back full force, springing through his cheeks like a bushfire, “until you decided to snog me in the bathroom—“

You gasp, “you snogged me first! You’re the one who kissed me!”

“I—I thought that’s what you wanted!”

“Well—yeah but I mean—it was your move!”

“Okay okay, I just couldn’t help myself,” Chan mutters while burying his face into the crook of your neck, breaths warm and tingling the skin there as his nose skims over your skin, “you looked so pretty with that outfit and—I don’t know, you were jealous and I found it so cute I—I’m sorry. I should’ve asked—“

You scoff to hide the way your cheeks are flushing at his compliments, “good thing I did want to snog your face off.”

He grumbles, nuzzles even more into you if that’s possible. You can’t help but smile, arms tentatively wrapping around his neck to draw him closer into a hug. You want to feel bad for Eunchae. You really do. But right now, sitting in Chan’s arms had never felt so right. The butterflies are roaring against your rib cage, fluttering with such vigor you feel like squirming. You don’t have to check to know that you’re currently grinning from ear to ear. It’s a different feeling, like you’re flying.

You never want to get back on the ground.

“So—what do we do?” You ask after a moment of silence, “are we dating? Or like…”

He pulls his face from your neck with amusement dancing in his eyes, “well, I think maybe I should take you out on a date first.”

“Oh,” just the thought renders you into a colored mess, “right…”

“Are you blushing?” Chan tilts his head to gaze up at you in endearment, warmth flowing from his eyes and making you squirm in his lap, “n—no, it’s just— I’m not used to this,” you mutter back.

“Yeah well, me neither,” Chan murmurs. Then, before you can protest he’s already tugged you back into a full-fledged embrace, nose nuzzling your collarbone and arms gripping you tight against his chest.

“Hey lovebirds!”

You scramble out of Chan’s lap so quickly that you almost fall face first on the gravel. Quickly finding your footing and shooting up into a standing position, you find Chan doing the same as you spot Minji’s head popping through the bushes, a Cheshire smile curling upon her lips.

“Well well well,” she cheers, “seems you two made up, didn’t you?”

You scowl, stomping past her as you say, “come on, I haven’t seen all of the market yet.”

“Well wait for me!” She chirps with another giggle, bouncing up behind you before linking arms and chattering on away about how the Christmas decorations are the cutest this year.

Chan watches you as he follows close behind, affection filling his chest and a grin breaking across his face.

I love her.

——-

"What if he doesn't like it?"

"He'll love it Y/N," Minji says while brushing back a few stray strands from your face. She ties up your hair in an elegant half ponytail, topping it off with a simple black ribbon, "there. You look pretty. There's no way Chan can't find you attractive."

"I know, but how am I supposed to act with him now? It's so...weird..." you blush just at the thought of having dinner face to face with him, the thought of his eyes locking on your own so intimately...

Oh just don't think about it! You feel like slapping yourself in the face. Why does it matter whether you’re alone or not? This is what you’ve been waiting for all this time, wasn’t it?

“What if it’s actually really awkward and we don’t know what to say to each other?” Your mutter s louder than you expect and Minji looks down at you, hands grasping your shoulders as she takes in your words.

“Trust me,” she says with a firmness you can’t quite compete with, “you’ll be fine.”

The doorbell rings just as you’re about to answer her that no, you won’t be fine and nothing about this is fine. Minji hurries over to get the door, barely giving you time to get your senses into check before the it swings open.

Chan gazes at you, blinks at Minji, then back at you like he’s seeing you for the first time.

And when he speaks, he is breathless.

“Hey,” he says, almost shyly. Like he can’t quite meet your eye, “you ready?”

“H-Hi,” you stutter out, cheeks flaming in pink as you scramble to get your bag together before scurrying towards the door, all while ignoring Minji, “so—sorry, were you waiting for long?”

“No no,” he smiles at you and you swear a million butterflies explode throughout your chest at this simple action, “I just came, and—“ he pauses for a second, eyes glancing over your outfit before locking with your own. His smile widens like a little boy who one found with his hand in a cookie jar. Not his cookie jar, “you look nice.”

“Thanks,” you sound breathless as you answer, and quickly try to come back down to earth, “you too.”

It is definitely weirder to be hanging out with Chan knowing that there’s the possibility of romance in the air. It’s not everyday that you get to be so close to the one you’re crushing on. It’s only just recently that you got to see Chan as more than just a friend, like a man, and the thought is unsettling, yet thrilling. One you can’t quite explain in simple words.

He brings you to the movies to watch a christmas-themed blockbuster. You don’t complain, continuing on the stream of chatter as you line up for some popcorn. It’s almost as if everything is normal between you two. Nothing feels as out of place as it should’ve, and slowly you find yourself relaxing the more the evening wears on.

“So is this another one of your stupid romcoms?” You can’t help but tease him as you make your way inside. There are numerous vacant seats and you follow Chan up the stairs until he finds a suitable row.

“it’s not just a stupid romcom okay?” Chan hisses back, and his response causes you to grin in the dark, “stories have happy endings too, you know.”

“Yeah yeah, so you keep saying,” you tease.

“D’you wanna bet that you’ll love this one?” He raises a brow at you.

“Pfft. You’re gonna bet on my reaction?”

His stare is serious, it almost makes you want to squirm in place. Heat rushing to the back of your neck, you hurriedly add on, “alright alright, what will you do for me if I don’t like the movie?”

“You grant me a dare.”

“A what?“ You feel your heart drop. Surely he hasn’t just suggested—

“A dare. You get to do any dare that I order you too,” satisfied, Chan crosses his arms over his chest with a grin, “fair deal?”

“Wha— how is that fair?!”

“It’s totally fair…if you’re honest with me,” he sends you a pointed look.

In the end you had to agree, grumbling a little under your breath as you did so and Chan, grinning from ear to ear, had gently prodded your shoulder with his. You couldn’t help but smile at his action.

He’s not one for skinship. And yet, he makes sure you’re always feeling loved no matter the circumstances.

“So?” He asks as soon as the ending credits roll in, “did you like it?”

In the end, you’d had to agree and abide by his rules. The movie had been — in all honesty — better than expected, though you’re quite unsure whether it had been because of Chan’s company or because it was genuinely good.

“Fine, what’s your dare?” You ask sullenly as you make your way to the exit. You feel like a child about to sulk in a corner.

But Chan laughs lightly, bopping you on the forehead as he says, “ hold my hand, all the way until the end of this date.”

You blink at him, “what if I have to go pee?”

“Then we'll go pee together."

"Didn't you say you didn't like holding hands?"

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Chan stiffen, colour spreading through his face, "yeah well..." he mutters, "it was different then."

His reaction is adorable, and as you stumble out into the street -- night has fallen and there are more people bumbling about -- you reach your hand out without looking at him, eyes averted to the ground before you feel his warmth wrap arouns yours.

His hand is large, had always been in comparison to yours. Somehow, the way his fingers close around yours makes you see stars.

You find a cozy little restaurant on the corner of the street where the christmas market is taking place. It’s called “Le Coin Ideale”, a small French-owned cafe with old retro vinyls stuck to the wall and faded-out couches scattered all over the place like an expired, outdated living room.

“This is cute,” you can’t help but mutter out as you take your seat. Chan flashes you a grin while handing you one of the menus stacked atop the table, “I found it by accident when I was running late for my chem exam, once.”

“You? Running late?” Your nose wrinkles, “somehow, that doesn’t seem to make so much sense.”

“You know why?” He leans forward, the grin blossoming on his face with such mischief you almost regret what you said, “the night before, you had called me because you couldn’t sleep. And even though I knew I was going to shoot myself in the foot the next day for not sticking to my sleep schedule, I just didn’t want to let you go.”

“What?” You blink at him, astounded by what he just said, “wait, how come I don’t remember—“

“I never told you my exam was the day after. You would’ve killed me.”

In response, you slap his arm. He winces, yelping out a protest, “what was that for?!”

“For being an idiot,” you grumble and avert your gaze, heat spreading through your cheeks. How adorable. He’d actually sacrificed his sleep for you. “Don’t do that again.”

Ordering two cups of hot chocolate and sandwiches — at this point you were just too engrossed in what Chan had to say that you don’t care what you’re eating as long as it’s food — the two of you keep up the stream of chatter as memories flood in. He reminds you of how, back in high school, you would hide in the art room just to get away from the crowd. Despite being popular due to your position on the cheerleading squad, you’d never been a fan of too much attention. Chan used to hang out with you there, painting portraits of your face, your side profile, your eyes, as you spoke about everything and anything.

“I always thought it was weird that you were on the cheerleading team,” Chan admits while munching through his sandwich.

“Hm?” You frown, “why? I think I was doing pretty good.”

“Yeah you were. You were one of the best they had. But, I don’t know,” he lifts his shoulders in a shrug, “you never seemed to fit in with the rest of the girls. Most of them were unbearable.”

You can’t help but giggle, “they’re not that bad. You’re the one who just hated talking to new people.”

“Yeah maybe,” he grabs a napkin as he speaks, reaching up to wipe your lips without a second’s hesitation and causing your heart to flutter, “I don’t think I’ve changed that much since high school.”

You’re trying really hard to keep holding onto his gaze despite the amount of heat frolicking inside your chest. You feel like you suddenly can’t breathe.

“I—well, I think no one has,” your eyes avert themselves to your drink and you quickly take a sip, “but I think we’ve become better.”

“What do you mean?”

“We haven’t changed. We’ve just…blossomed. Into who we are supposed to be. We don’t have to change for that.”

“Poet Y/N strikes again,” Chan’s lips curl up into a smile. He lets his head drop into his palm, tilting his face to gaze at you, “aren’t you cute.”

“Shut up,” you attempt to kick his shin.

He yelps, pulling his feet back as far as they can go, “wow, this is how you thank me for complimenting you? I’m hurt, Y/N.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

“Just for you,” his face breaks out into a grin then. You can’t help but grin back, heart soaring at the affection swimming in his gaze.

If you’d had any doubts about Chan loving you then, the way he’s looking at you throws every doubt out of the window.

He’s just so beautiful.

The afternoon sets in with golden sunlight streaming through the trees adorning the park and, considering the nice weather — albeit for the frozen ice to be wary of — it’s the best occasion for a walk.

“Do you know swans mate for life?” You say as you skirt around a patch of frozen ice.

“Like, actually?”

“Yeah. They’re one of the few animals that do. It’s kinda cute.”

The sun is warm as it hits your skin, a great contrast to the cold wind trickling through your hair. You push your beanie down in an attempt to savor more warmth, “they’re a lot like humans in that sense.”

“Not all humans mate for life, though.”

“No, they don’t,” you pull a grimace, “though I believe that people would be happier if they just committed—woah!”

There’s no way to steady yourself when your foot goes swinging forward, body lurching back as a cry escapes your lips and if it weren’t for Chan’s arms grabbing a hold of you and pulling you to his chest, you would’ve probably gotten a big bruise all along your back.

“Thanks,” you stutter it out between chattering teeth. It’s suddenly a lot colder now, “jeez, that’s dangerous.”

“You okay?” Chan asks, arms still wrapped around your middle, not letting go.

You nod firmly and, as he slowly sets you right upon your feet once again, you notice his hand sliding down your arm to interlace his fingers with yours.

“Ha,” you can’t help but chuckle, glancing up at him, “smooth.”

He’s blushing. And yet, grinning like there’s no tomorrow, “I know.”

The rest of the evening is spent browsing through the various stalls. You try on funny Christmas hats, take photos of each other as you laugh, and get to buy some mulled wine along the way. Christmas songs are blasting through the air like a national anthem but you find you don’t mind, it when your heart feels like it’s about to burst with emotion at any given moment.

Afterwards, as Chan walks you back home — much to your protest since you live opposite ways — you ask him how long he’s been feeling this way.

His answer is a shrug, “can’t tell. I just know it happened very suddenly. One day you were just a friend, and the next—I felt like you could be something more,” he ducks his head in embarrassment, eyes finding the ground crunching underneath your feet, “the thing is, once I realized—it just made sense. You know?”

“Yeah,” a smile breaks across your face, “yeah I know what that feels like.”

Reaching your apartment too soon for your liking, you make a quick work of unlocking the door and quickly tossing your shoes aside by the wall, "woah, I'm actually very tired."

There's no response, causing you to look back at Chan, standing by the doorway and shuffling on his feet like an awkward duck.

"Uhm," his hand is back at his neck, eyes darting between you and the apartment, "I--I'm not sure I should come in."

"Wha--why not?"

"Because it doesn't seem appropriate," he blushes.

"Dude it's fine, it's not like you haven't been in here--" the thought halts you in your tracks. You bite your lip. Oh. Right. You are in an established relayionship now. It's different.

"I--I mean," you stammer out, turning back around to set the shopping bags on the table as a source of distraction, "Yeah it's fine. Just--yeah come in and stop being so awkward."

You pour him some hot chocolate and bring it over to the couch where Chan has taken his place, as still as a solid rock, and he paints such a cute picture of innocence that a grin breaks across your face upon tracing his features.

"You know, it's still just me," you try to lighten the mood in hopes that Chan would actually stop being so tense, "you don't have to sit so straight either."

"I know," taking a shaky breath, he relaxes back into the couch and it seems like a weight has suddenly lifted from his shoulders, "yeah sorry. I'm just still not used to--you know..."

"Yeah I do," your grin widens and without warning, you swoop in to peck his cheek.

He lets out a sound between a yelp and a gasp as you chuckle, "you're cute, Chan."

"Don't call me that," he narrows his eyes at you.

"But you are," you're trying your best to mask your laugh but it's impossible with him looking so offendes by your words, "I'm sorry, it's just--I can't it, you're adorable--"

"Don't test me, Y/N."

"Ooh, what's big boy Chan gonna do huh?" You lean over, eyes sparkling, "that sounds scary--hey!"

He tackles you without warning, knocking your legs out from underneath before grabbing hold of your wrists. You shriek, playfully kicking at him as he lets his weight press down on you, chest against chest, skin against skin. Pinning you down onto the couch with a breathless grin, he chuckles at the annoyance on your face.

"Not so chatty now, are we?"

His murmur washes over you. Warm, tantalizingly so. You feel youraelf melting under his touch like butter.

Is this how love is supposed to feel? He's barely doibg anything and you feel like your heart has wings.

"For someone so shy, you're quite bold," is the only thing that you manage to say, though your words trail off as his lips inch closer and closer, "Chan..."

His eyes are glazed over, dark with untold emotion as they zero in on your lips. The butterflies explode tenfold across your tummy, legs squirming together only for Chan's thigh to slide in-between to part them.

You gasp, the air catching in the back of your throat as you feel his fingers interlock with yours.

Goosebumps tickle along your skin and you swallow thickly.

He's rendering you insane just by being so close to you and you can't help but wonder; where did your best friend go?

"Y/N."

His voice is soft, raw with restraint as you still, breathing the same air for a moment. You wish you can look away because he's making you feel all sorts of things. But you find you can't, pulled in by the ghostly power of chemistry triggered between your two bodies. It's as if time stops, the entire world freezing and suspending you two in a small pocket of bliss.

You're brought back to earth by Chan's soft growl. His fingers tighten ever so slightly on yours, and you bite down onto your lower lip upon feeling a knot tighten at the base of your stomach.

Is he going to...

"I--" he licks his lips, "I want to kiss you," he pauses for a beat, then adds, "Please."

You gaze at him. Your heart skips.

Then, you dip your head into a nod.

And before you know it, he's already tilted his head to press his lips against yours.

It's not like the first time, desperate and eager and drunk.

It's neither like the second, tentative and soft and filled with all the things you wished you had told him.

It's tender, yet firm. Caring. As if Chan already knows what you want, what you need. You feel him, firm and warm pressed up against you like he'd die if he didn't. You kiss back slightly, lips nibbling on his and causing a small breath to escape his throat. reassurance, probably. But it makes you melt even further into the couch as he continues kissing your next breath away.

You can taste him. Smell him. He smells of musk and boy deodorant, the kind that makes your head all dizzy as his mouth slants against yours even more intimately, pushing and moving and tongue licking the seam of your lips. You whimper, mouth opening to allow his tongue to dance with yours as he pushes you further back into the couch.

It's only when you need air that you find yourself parting, breathless and chest heaving as you feel his nose brushing yours with eyes half-lidded like he's judt come out of a dream.

Ironic, considering that what he says next is, "I'm not...dreaming, right?"

Dishevelled locks and a pouty mouth greets you as your eyes flutter open, and something in your lower stomach churns at the intensity in his eyes. Dark and molten with desire.

"No," your murmur is barely a breath of air that caresses his face. He sighs before nuzzling his nose into your cheek, "thank god."

Impulsively, your arms wrap around his neck to pull him closer to you and he happily obliges, face finding thr crook of your neck as you pillow your cheek on the side of his head, pressing a small kiss there.

It's so magical, so surreal. Yet it feels so right to have Chan in your arms.

It's incresible what life throws your way. This entire ordeal had started as a fake relationship, an excuse, a means to an end.

And now, you couldn't inagine yourself living without it. Without him.

"I love you."

You blurt out the words before you can stop yourself and Chan stills in your arms. His head lifts slightly, eyes finding yours as one of his hands reach up to caress your cheek.

"I love you too," he murmurs, and another flood of fireworks cause your heart to melt and explode at the same time.

You can't help but kiss him again. He kisses back with just as much ardour. And you think this is it.

This is home.

#chan x reader #bang chan fluff #bang chan imagine #bang chan imagines #chan fanfic #chan scenarios #chan drabbles #chan imagines #bangchan fanfic #bang chan drabble #chan x you #bang chan x you #chan fluff #skz fluff #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz hyunjin #skz fanfic #skz drabbles #chan headcanons #stray kids #stray kids headcanons #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabble #stray kids fanfic #kpop imagine #kpop fanfic

[eurydicesflower]

From the Start (zoro/robin)

Pairing: Nico Robin/Roronoa Zoro Tags: Modern Setting, Light Angst Warnings: None Word Count: 2.4 k Summary: A flight to Logue Town that will reconnect two long-time friends, and a song that will rekindle the old flame. A/N: light angst for angstober 2023 (no particular prompt, but this draft has been up since last year so i decided to finish this one) Also posted on: Archive of Our Own

“This is an announcement for passengers on flight N1127 to LogueTown. The flight has been delayed due to bad weather conditions… We are sorry for the inconvenience.”

The flight announcement has been repeated so many times now. Of course, it will be so tiring to hear it when you were supposed to be arriving the next day to visit your close friend in Cocoyashi.

Robin: im sorry, nami might arrive a day late : ((

Nami: don’t worry, it’s fine!!! at least we know that you’re going to make it :D loveyewww &lt;3

Honestly, this delayed flight should have been making her insane right now, but when she received the text from Nami, her mood shifted. Her reassuring text had earned a small smile on Robin’s face. Taking a deep breath, she whipped out her phone and read the manuscript Koala sent to her. Just a little peak. There shouldn’t be any work-related things hindering her vacation, but it wouldn’t hurt to check some edits here and there.

“Is this seat taken?”

Robin didn’t mind looking up, “No, no, it’s fine,” before she started reading one of the lines from the manuscript. A minute later, she just realized who that was. She recognized who that voice belonged to.

“Zoro?” She never meant to mumble it out loud, and it seems the man had heard her.

“Oh. I didn’t recognize that it was you.”

It was a lie. She knew he was lying.

“Yeah, me, too! Are you also going to Nami—? Wait, you don’t have to tell me. Of course, you’ll be going there, too. How long has it been, two years?” She joked, which made Zoro chuckle for a bit. She still likes hearing him chuckle. 

“Hey, it might feel like two years, but it’s only been a year since you left. By the way, how are you? Nami told me that you’re already working at the National Archive Museum in Ohara like you always wanted. Is it true?”

He remembered. Of course, why would he not know that? They had been friends for so long. Besides, Zoro has always been a supportive friend, and Robin always appreciates what he has done for her even the smallest things.

She smirked at him lightly. “I’ve been well… And yes; it’s also been a year since…”

“The day you left.” He completed her sentence before an awkward silence filled in the gap of their conversation. Robin didn’t know what to say, andso did he.

“Well, surprise, I’m back.” She chuckled, breaking the silence. “Did you miss me?” She teased.

“I would be lying if I said that I didn’t miss you.”

“Hah. Stop it…” He was a madman.

There goes him, giving her mixed signals and that signature smirk of his. That’s one of the worst things about having Zoro as one of your close friends. She hates it when he is unpredictable. And most probably, that's one of the reasons she likes him, thinking that their dynamic fits the same wavelength, which eventually causes her to fall for him for about four years.

“How’s your girlfriend?” She changed her subject.

“Oh… We ended our relationship before our first anniversary six months ago…”

“Oh. Oh… Sorry about that.” Robin didn’t know that bit of his relationship. How come she does not know—? ‘Oh, never mind,’ she thought. Once again, their conversation came to halt, and Robin went on reading the manuscript on her phone before she switched on another app on her phone to scroll mindlessly and watch silly contents.

“Did you really mean it?” Zoro broke the silence.

“What?”

“That night.”

“Zoro, I didn’t remember—”

He then showed a video of her singing at the karaoke during her despedida party. At first, she didn’t know what he meant, but slowly, the realization sank in when she sang the last words of the song, extending her hand, and pointing vaguely at someone in the audience.

“I think I was drunk that time.” She lied.

He scoffed, not actually believing her word.

“What?”

“You had a flight the next day but I know you’re not a lightweight drinker—”

“And so? I am just singing a silly little song about unrequited love, so?”

 He was about to counter what she said. “Never mind, forget about it.”

“So, why are you bringing this up right now after a year?” Robin questioned him. 

Not that she was bitter last year (she was); she blocked him from all of her social media accounts that she could think of. She hadn’t heard him for so long, and then he just shows up like nothing happened? Wow, that was just so uncool of Zoro, to be honest.

“Maybe it just took me so long to realize..." He stared at his feet, avoiding Robin’s gaze.

“Why now?” she asked before he could even complete his sentence. 

Despite the loudness sinking in, another silence wraps them away from the noise of the airport. Robin didn’t want to hear what he was about to say next. She wanted to cover her ears. Not that she was waiting to hear him say those words out loud, but… why now?

///

Every moment in our lives comes into bits and pieces, whether you want to keep them or not. For Robin, seeing her friends for the last time at Baratie’s before her flight the next day would be one of her best and saddest decisions in life. Spending every moment to the fullest, she never knows when she will experience this once again.  

“Robin!!! We’re going to miss you.” Nami pulled Robin into the tightest hug. “Who’s going to come with me when I go shopping?”

“You can take Sanji with you during your shopping sprees," Robin joked, and Nami glared at her playfully. “Okay. Okay, and maybe next time when I get back.”

“And what if that will take more than two years? Or worse, ten years…”  

“Don’t worry, I promise I will be back next year.”

“You promise that. I believe your word, Robin.”

“And so Mosshead decided to show up late when Robin-chwan is already here! Why are you fucking late—?" Sanji shouted at the back when someone had arrived.

“Sorry, we’re late.”

“Who’s we?” Sanji quipped before he was visibly stunned along with his friends when Zoro was with a turquoise-haired woman.

“Everyone, this is Hiyori, my girlfriend.”

Half of his friends were surprised, and half of them were bewildered, when Zoro just nonchalantly announced having a girlfriend. Robin, on the other hand, didn’t know what to feel. She should have been happy for him. She was his friend, of course. But the more that she stares at their happy couple faces, Robin would rather get drunk than stay miserable.

“Wow, I never thought," Sanji murmured. “How long have you been together?”

“A month.”  

“A month? And you kept this from us?”

“I just wanted to introduce her to you guys and to Robin as well.” Zoro smiled and introduced his ‘girlfriend’ to all of their friends. The woman smiled sheepishly at them while holding Zoro’s hand.

 “Girl, are you okay?” Nami shared a concerning look at Robin.

“Don’t you just think I should have scheduled my flight a little bit earlier, so I couldn’t see this?”

Robin would be lying to herself if she said there was no jealousy bubbling up inside her guts. She couldn’t even handle looking at the couple. Nami was the only one who knew of her secret. It’s been more than one year— no, three years— she concealed what she felt for Zoro. And the moment when she wanted to tell him,  maybe she should just forget it. She’ll be living away from them anyway,so it wouldn’t even matter in the end.

“Robin, it’s not your fault.” Nami held her hand and squeezed it. “We didn’t even know that he would be hard-launching his ‘girlfriend’ tonight. And this is also the first time he mentioned this to us? Like, why now?”

"Just... let’s just don’t think about that. And just enjoy the night.”

And so they did. 

Her friends had prepared a night to remember, not a night to resent. She wouldn’t let her friends’ efforts go to waste just because of one minor inconvenience; she would make this night hers. The night went on, and everything was smooth sailing. Robin almost forgot what had made her mood shift for a little bit. Thanks to her friends, Robin never felt the sinking feeling—or, that’s what she thought—until Brook asked who was next in line for the karaoke machine, which was Robin’s song. 

“Whose song is this? From the Start by Laufey?”

Robin stood up and grabbed the mic from Brook. 

The modern bossa nova song opened with a summery guitar strum, and Robin danced with a cute sway of her hips to match the beat of the song's intro, which earned cheers from her friends. 

“Don't you notice how I get quiet when there's no one else around?” Robin spared a glance at the man she had fallen for.

She couldn’t quite imagine that she would actually relate to this song after listening to it for, like, weeks now. As she sang the first lines of the lyrics, she imagined that she was the person in the song. When her gaze landed on them, she could see the crease in Zoro’s eyes when he looked at her. The burning pain that she wanted to erase just by seeing Zoro and his girlfriend doing the lovey-dovey gestures that couples do. 

“Oh, how I wish you'll wake up one day, run to me, confess your love, at least just let me say…”

For some reason, Cupid shot an arrow into her heart for someone who would never feel the same way as hers. And of course, Robin had a high sense of pride; she would never confess what she really felt towards him. She’d rather let whatever she was feeling wither and wilt rather than actually say what she really feels— except there was a screaming little voice from the back of her head that she wanted to confess tonight, and confess, ‘I loved you from the start.’

She had been thinking about confessing ever since, but for some reason, there was an invisible force that held her lips and mind, reeling her not to. And to think that it has been going on for about two years now— how could she even bottle all this up? Direct and honest Robin was being held back from confessing to her long-time friend. 

How could she not say it directly when she was one of the most outspoken people among their friends? 

Even the smartest people had a hard time predicting love because, at the end of the day, it was not as easy as analyzing them. Be surprised at the unexpected, and that’s what Robin felt.

“Have to get this off my chest; I'm telling you today…”

When Nami first introduced her to her friends, she was intrigued by him rather than falling in love with him at first sight. Aside from Luffy, who was the most enthusiastic to befriend her during her college years, Zoro was the next one who caught her attention. She thought this was just admiration, but the next thing she knew, this once petty feeling building up inside her chest had built up into the history of genuinely liking someone. She tried to erase him from her mind, but the more she tried, the harder it was for her to move on. However, that night, she found a solution: vaguely confess with a song, then pretend and forget like nothing happened.

“I know I’ve loved you from the start.” She ended her mini-performance by extending her hand, vaguely pointed at the audience. ///

“I talked through Nami about this a month ago, and I really wanted to see you, so...”

“Zoro, just tell me already and—”

“I actually liked you before, Robin.”

Robin stared at him for a moment, so speechless that she couldn’t move her lips to respond with a witty reply.

Between her and Zoro, Robin was the most direct between them. She was brutally honest, and she was flawlessly fluent in any spoken word. But as soon as she heard what Zoro had said that evening, she knew that night was full of surprises. First, her flight to Cocoyashi was delayed; second, Zoro showed up beside her, boarding the same delayed flight; and third, his confession? What is happening? She even pinched herself to make sure tonight was real. Any moment now, she should be waking up. But she didn’t. This was real. It was happening in real time.

“What did you just say?” Deep breaths— inhaling and exhaling thoroughly, processing through what Zoro had just said. Even if she wanted to hear this for a long time, the crippling doubt creeped in. “Did you just mean to tell me this? Wait— Ah, ah.” She raised her pointing finger mid-air, stopping him for what he was about to say. “What do you mean before?”

“I liked you, Robin.”

“And you didn’t tell me?” She laughed airily and couldn’t believe what she was hearing at that moment. “How come you didn’t tell me?”

“I thought you didn’t like me before, but not until I rewatched the vid Nami sent the other day.”

That’s it? Robin belted out the loudest laugh that night. Some people beside them started to look at her as if she were crazy. All this time, when she thought he was the one who didn’t like her, she learned this almost the same day she confessed to him. Was the universe playing a joke on her?

“Why are you laughing? Did I say something funny?” He stared at her; brows furrowed in confusion.

“I hate you,” she quipped teasingly with a small smirk on her lips. “And now, you’re meeting me here at the airport, so you could tell that?”

“That’s not what I meant to say…”

“Just tell me already, Zoro so I know—”

“Do you think if we’ve been together, we would make everything work out?”

Once again, Robin was left speechless. 

"Zoro, I don’t really know what to say, but… if I say that, let’s talk about this when we get to East Blue. Will you wait?”

“I’ll be waiting.” He smiled at her, never leaving her side. 

Robin knew to herself that Zoro was not the romantic type. Yet, there were moments that she would be blown away, and if their friends heard what he had just said, all of them would not believe that the Roronoa Zoro possesses at least a bit of a romantic side in his veins. 

And will Robin say ‘yes’ to Zoro’s question? That’s for her future self in three days to decide, even though she already knew the answer.

#zoro x robin #zorobin #zorobin fanfic #zorobin fic #roronoa zoro #nico robin #reg writes

[raccoonhearteyes]

Part I

July 8th 2018

Lexa has learned to find the events around the city. She knows where people store their spare key, and when they may be out of town. She knows the patterns of the local bakeries and when they toss their day-old bread. She’s surviving.

It’s easy to sneak into events when no one remembers you once you’ve walked past them. Lexa has taken advantage of this perk many times to get into clubs, concerts, and weddings. This rooftop party is no different. 

It’s a hot and muggy July evening in the city. The gallery below is hosting a party to celebrate new partnerships with artists. The rooftop is full of budding artists and wealthy patrons. There’s a low hum of music, chilled cocktails, and a few waiters wandering through with finger food. 

Lexa is content to stand off by the side, filling up on free snacks and drinks.

A blonde woman approaches the table, lays out a napkin and begins piling cocktail wieners on it. Then, as stealthily as she can, places the whole thing into her purse. Lexa watches her do this again with mini quiches. 

This time, the woman looks up and catches Lexa’s eyes. 

Lexa smirks. “Hungry?” 

The woman looks slightly embarrassed, but admits, “I’m an executive assistant at the gallery. I planned this whole thing, and everyone is too busy sucking up to the artists and patrons that they aren’t eating this delicious food that I spent hours on the phone with a caterer about.”

“Then by all means, let me help you.” Lexa grabs a napkin to start filling with mini crab cakes. 

The woman smiles and with renewed vigor, she fills her purse with as much as it can hold. When it’s too stuffed to hold anything else, she reaches out her hand and says, “I’m Clarke, by the way.” 

“Anna,” Lexa replies, taking her hand. 

Clarke is slow to let go, allowing her eyes to trace over every feature of Lexa’s face. It’s long enough that Lexa begins to feel like she’s under a microscope and she starts to fidget.

“Your eyes are like a forest.”

“Wow, what a line,” Lexa jokes, trying to laugh it off. 

But Clarke is still looking at her intently, focused on the green of her eyes and replies in complete seriousness, “It’s not a line. I’ve just never seen anyone with such deep verdant eyes.” 

This time Lexa flushes, and Clarke comments, “You’re cute when you blush,” which only makes the tips of Lexa’s ears turn even more red under the observation.

“Can we talk about something else?”

“We don’t have to talk at all,” and Lexa watches Clarke’s eyes dip to her lips.

Lexa stares back at Clarke’s, lost in the beauty mark above her top lip and asks, “Does that line usually work for you?” 

“Honestly, I’ve never tried it before. But stealing apps with you has been the most fun I've had all night, and I'm really ready to get out of here.” 

“Lead the way,” and Lexa offers her hand for Clarke to grab. 

-----------

They walk to a park nearby, where Clarke finds a picnic table and spreads out the spoils from her purse. “Dinner?” she offers. 

Lexa takes the seat across from her and pops a crab cake into her mouth. Stuffing it into one side of her cheek she asks, “So do you always leave parties early?” 

“My friends say that I need to learn how to have more fun.”

“And skipping the party complies with that?” 

“It was a work party, so yes. I did all the planning, I already know the patrons and the artists, so yeah. I didn’t want to be at work any more.  And you were beautiful, and helped me steal dinner for this wonderful date.”

“So it’s a date now?”

“I was hoping so, yeah,” and for the first time that night, Clarke seems unsure of herself. 

“Sounds like we need to get some first date questions out of the way then.” 

They talk about work. Their childhoods. Hopes and dreams. 

Clarke is honest. She’s an executive assistant for a gallery, but she’s an artist herself. Waiting for the right collection to break her way into the gallery scene with an exhibit of her own. She’s an only child. Her father died when she was young. Her mom has been somewhat overbearing ever since. She wants to be an artist, but feels stuck in her art. She’s currently working on a series of portraits of people as skies, but nothing is quite meeting her expectations. 

Lexa has to lie. Blatant honesty about being a homeless, jobless, ghost would probably scare her off. She pretends she’s a teacher, because if she could enroll in school, that’s what she would have wanted. She skips over the ugly foster care parts of her childhood. 

By the time they finish all of the stolen snacks, hours have passed and Lexa thinks she may know Clarke more than any one she’d talked to in the last ten years. She’s not ready for this to end. This is a rare experience for Lexa, getting beyond the initial getting to know you greetings. 

Clarke asks if she wants to walk around the park a bit, and she immediately agrees. They slow when they reach a fountain. Lexa isn’t sure how it happens, but she suddenly has a girl with pretty blue eyes who wants to kiss her, and she finds herself kissing her back.

Lexa finds herself being tugged down the street, fingers intertwined as they stumble through an apartment door.

“I don’t usually do this,” Clarke breaths as she pulls away.

“Me neither,” Lexa sighs, pinning her against the wall.

It was a race after that. A hot, sweaty, needy race that left both of them spent, and drifting off to sleep after giggling late into the night.

-----------

Lexa wakes up to sun pouring through a window, a mass of blonde hair in her mouth, and her arm trapped under Clarke’s neck. She knows she needs to leave before Clarke wakes up. But Clarke looks so peaceful and Lexa can’t bear to wake her up to extricate her arm. 

Clarke stirs in her arms, nuzzling further into Lexa’s body before she wakes with a start. 

She looks confused. Brow furrowed, trying to pull a name or a memory from last night. She settles for a soft, “Hi?”

“Hi,” Lexa whispers back. 

Clarke looks down at their bodies, clocking the fact that both she and Lexa are naked. “Well it seems we had a fun night.”

“We did,” Lexa smirks.

“I’m sorry… I don’t actually remember your name… I must’ve had too much to drink last night.”

“Oh, right. Anna,” Lexa lies again, holding out her hand to reintroduce herself. 

Clarke looks at it and shakes it again. “So what exactly happened last night?” 

“I was at your gallery event. Caught you stealing snacks, so I helped you fill your purse. We left, talked, and well…” Lexa glances down at the tangled sheets to let that do the talking. 

Clarke rubs at her temples where the hangover headache should be. Lexa knows she doesn’t have one-- they only had one drink each. But the mind convinces itself otherwise when you wake up to a stranger in your bed and have no idea how they got there.  

Eventually, Clarke says, “I have to shower and then get to work.”

“Of course, I’ll get out of your hair.” Lexa jumps out of bed and starts pulling her own clothes back on. 

Clarke watches her closely, and Lexa again feels like she’s under a microscope. No one has ever looked at her as intensely as Clarke does. “Do you need to shower?” She cocks her head to the side awaiting Lexa’s answer. 

“I can shower at home,” Lexa answers, lying through her teeth because she has no idea where she’s sleeping tonight. 

Clarke stands, letting the sheet slip down her body, and Lexa forces herself to look at the wall. 

“Can’t even look at me now?” 

“I’m trying to be respectful,” Lexa pleads. 

Clarke approaches her, hooks her fingers in Lexa’s belt loops and tugs. “A gentleman. But it seems only fair you join me so I have a new memory of the night I apparently missed.”

Lexa tries to argue, but her words pause in her mouth. She lets Clarke tug her shorts back down and lead her towards the bathroom. They’re kissing before the water is even hot and then Clarke pulls her into the shower and lets Lexa push her against the cold shower tiles. 

Lexa sinks to her knees, kissing a soft belly and inner thighs and earning a gasp from Clarke. Clarke’s hands root in her hair as she licks through her, head thudding against the tiles, and an endless stream of fuck. yes. there. tumbling from her mouth. Lexa steadies her as she arches into her mouth and coaxes her through the aftershocks, then stands to kiss her long and slow. 

Clarke seems barely coherent before saying, “Wow, that was… unforgettable” 

Lexa’s heart seizes at her word choice. She knows she’ll be forgotten once again as soon as she leaves this apartment, but decides to make the most of it before she goes. 

After they are dried, clothes, and caffeinated, Lexa sees Clarke glance at her watch and realize just how late she’s going to be for work, and rushes through the rest of her morning routine. She and Lexa step out of her apartment together when Clarke asks, “Will I see you again?”  

Lexa offers a smile in lieu of an answer. “Get going, Clarke, I don’t want you to be late for work.”

“This morning was fun. I’m sure last night was too if I could remember it,” Clarke laughs, kisses her on the cheek, and starts to power walk to the office.

#lexa #clarke griffin #clexa #the invisible life of addie larue

[floralseokjin]

this is random but I've been wondering. what is your personal favorite headcanon for each of the couples? idk if you've been asked this before so ignore if you have <3

This was a really fun ask! Sorry it’s taken me so long to respond though, I’ve had a dedicated page for headcannons in my notes app for months, compiling my ideas. Here’s a few of them! Also sorry these are just for my Seokjin fics, I had ones for PBN and FLLL too but I wasn’t very happy with them.

CRYSTALLISED

OC needs to listen to asmr before she falls asleep. She just straight up ignores Jin when it comes around to 10pm, earphones in, eyes closed as someone is whispering a makeup haul to her. It always ends up with her falling asleep before him and he has to remove her earphones and take away her phone. True love ❤️

MLS

I was going to write a drabble about this (I still might), but one time Seokjin has to go away on business for a while and as soon as he comes back he rushes over to see Oc. He breaks her (already breaking) bed midway through sex and has to stop to crawl under it and inspect the broken slats lmao! He orders her a new one straight away of course ☺️

9MTFIL

Thanks to an ask I received a month or two ago (which I can’t find right now 😭) I can’t stop imagining Seokjin making up really silly (but surprisingly amazing) songs like Super Tuna to make baby glob smile and giggle. Oc loves it too and that’s how she learned Seokjin had a really great singing voice! He also ropes her in to make choreography 🤧 I can imagine them both entertaining their daughter by singing and dancing!

FINAL SLEIGH

Maybe because I was rewatching The Office a couple of months ago, but I can imagine Oc and Seokjin lying in bed after having sex, her telling Seokjin about all the ridiculous things that used to happen when the old manager was still in charge. They would both nearly be in tears while she recounted everything and he would be so sad he wasn’t an employee at the branch during that time because it sounded amazing.

#message #anon #fic:9mtfil #fic:final sleigh #fic:mls #fic:crystallised

[notstilinski]

Happy Place Starters !

Taken from the 2023 novel by Emily Henry, Happy Place! Some of these have already been edited. You can change them however you see fit!

“We all went to school together but we live in different places now, so it’s hard to get our schedules to line up.”

“Oh, no, it was t a medical procedure. It was an Etsy spell.”

“Remember the first time you brought us her? That guy (Name) ghosted me, and you and (Name) made a PowerPoint about his worst qualities.”

“Wow, things descended into orgy territory pretty quickly.”

“I’ve never had friends like this.”

“Eight years, and you’re still never more than three feet apart.”

“(Name) tends to embellish.”

“You should try sending a big-ass nude painting of yourself ahead when you’re going to meet someone new. It’s always worked for me.”

“You’re staring. Suspiciously.”

“I’m sure plenty of murderers are punctual.”

“They told me it would be impossible to tell whether you were flirting or not.”

“Clearly you’re unfamiliar with the concept of the Regency-era duel.”

“Oh, I’m familiar, but since I rarely find myself flirting with the unwed daughters of powerful dukes, I figure I’m okay.”

“Oh, come on. We’re step-friends now. You might as well tell me.”

“I love sluts! Some of my best friends are sluts. I’ve dabbled in sluttery myself.”

“That’s right. I’m slow-release hot.”

“No. I’m doing this for the sheer pleasure of annoying you.”

“(Name), they didn’t know we’d been hooking up for a whole year.”

“So you proposed and they said no and then they proposed and /you/ said no?”

“You can’t shove a person into a dark room and tell them to relax!”

“(Name) got an air horn app.”

“Are there any places you go back to again and again in your dreams?”

“If you could have another life entirely, separate from this one, what would you do?”

“Overthinking is the thing I’m best at, though.”

“Do I make you anxious?”

“You ask a lot of questions, but you don’t like answering them.”

“Funny. Interesting. It’s like, pick a lane, buddy.”

“Just to be clear, you’re always welcome to touch me.”

“I’m voracious for physical touch. Can’t get enough.”

“Don’t worry. It was clearly vengeful grinding.”

“I’m not made of money, (Name). Water’s all I got.”

“I have never loved a grocery store like I love this grocery store.”

“”How is (Name) even alive let alone whooping and cheering?”

“I’m probably just tired. I always worry more when I’m tired.”

“Um, I literally just walked up. Did I catch you two in the middle of a drug deal or something?”

“Oh, you haven’t found yourself imprisoned with any other jilted lovers in the last five months?”

“Oh? Then what was it that made you finally kiss me, (Name)?”

“I want to know if you’re happy too.”

“I got great pictures of the body shots, by the way. Those will be perfect for the photo wall.”

“You don’t have to be fine.”

“It could still happen. Life’s long.”

“He looks like he’s the tormented leader of a motorcycle gang.”

“If we aren’t friends, what is this?”

“I finally stopped falling asleep to that humiliating memory one month ago and now I have to start all over.”

“The I want to go down on you face?”

“What’s that? Is that just global warming I’m feeling, or has hell frozen over and (Name) is actually agreeing with me on something?”

“(Name), I’m serious. Don’t you dare break my delicate angel’s heart.”

“You’re a mystery to me, (Name).”

“I’m hiring a hitman to take out (Name) for buying that last round of Fireball last night. Feel free to Venmo me your contribution.”

“You have the instincts of a Victorian women’s hospital orderly.”

“Lots of things start with me. That doesn’t make them good ideas.”

“I’m not sure I’m up for four hours of vampires.”

“That just means whoever finds the body has a boring job and wears sweater-vests.”

“If I’m going to be an ass, I’m glad to be yours.”

“They think they’re showing me off.”

“Wow. Being a washed-up former golden boy isn’t so bad after all.”

“Thank you, (Name), for saving them from themselves.”

“I know. I think that’s really why I went. To find you.”

“Moved back in with your mom and get high with her twice a week.”

“I can hardly believe it myself. The chemistry was undeniable, but it wasn’t enough.”

“That is so unbelievably on-brand.”

“The nuance being they can know something’s objectively terrible but if it’s even loosely connected to one of their family members, then it’s got to also be groundbreakingly special.”

“And here I thought it was the crosswords themselves getting you riled up.”

“Hey, are you guys doing drugs down there?”

“We are young, (Name). We’ll always be young. It’s a state of mind.”

“I can feel my blood. And these colors have tastes.

“I am definitely really high. But I’m also right.”

“So I guess some things change and stay the same.”

“It happened! We replaced our parents as the drunk-mom-on-vacation generation

“Tell me to kiss you, (Name).”

“Plus, I want to see if this place is as haunted as it looks.”

“I like how you talk to me like you expect me to understand what you’re saying.”

“I’m every universe, it’s you for me. Even if it’s not me for you.”

“Compared to the rest of our relationship, this is a brawl.”

“I’m great with parents, (Name). Talking to old people is one of my very few God-given skills.”

“Are you planning to stab me or something?”

“Because you’re good at loving and that’s all you have to do.”

“How can love end up like that? How is it possible to love someone so much and have it all just go away?”

“Do you want me to promise I’ll love you forever, (Name)? Because I will.”

“What’s one thing you’ll miss about these trips?”

“Stupid, stupid, stupid heart. Don’t you know he hasn’t been yours to cry over for a long time?”

“Breathe for a second. Rushing makes you clumsy, and we can’t afford to be clumsy.”

“So when they ask for my best qualities, I tell them I’m amazing in bed.”

“I hardly have any expenses right now—maybe you’ve heard: I live with my mom?”

“It’s amazing. Seeing you like this. So happy.”

“I wanted to be special, (Name). And since I wasn’t, I settled for trying to make everyone love me.”

“I am. I am still yours.”

“Thanks. I don’t work out.”

“You think they’re Postmatesing magic mushrooms to the table?”

“If I waited on all of you, this friendship would already be over.”

“So, what, you’re going to consciously uncouple from our friendship.”

“If I’m good enough, I’ll be happy.”

“This is what you wore to a fight?”

“Good. You should be at least a fraction as proud of yourself as I am of you.”

“Good. Don’t forgive me. Stay mad at me. Don’t get over me.”

“Love means constantly saying you’re sorry and then doing better.”

“I never learned how to fight.”

“I don’t know how fights are supposed to end when you love the person you’re fighting with.”

“It’s embarrassing! Being jealous of your own partner? I didn’t even tell (Name) until a few months ago.”

“I don’t need you to stay the same, (Name).”

“You don’t want that anger becoming fear. You want it turning into trust.”

“I told that one shitty poet you dated that I was a witch, and that if he ever contacted you again, I’d he’d him so his dick fell off.”

“Your fingers are cold.”

“All the more reason to give you a ride. These could be the last minutes of your life, period.”

“Because there’s nowhere I wouldn’t go for you.”

“I’d rather have you five days a year than anyone else all the time.”

“I’m saying it’s not home unless you’re there.”

“Because it makes me happy. And I don’t consider anything that does that a waste of time.”

“I’m never not going to worry about you.”

“What about you? Don’t you want to be happy?”

#rp meme #roleplay meme #sentence starters #sentence meme #starter sentences #ask meme #ask prompts #inbox memes #inbox prompts #novel sentence starters #if i made any mistakes here i swear to GOD

[nehswritesstuffs]

Inherited Will, Destiny of the Age, Graveyard of Ambition and Dreams - Part 1

Also crossposted on FFN and AO3.

Forty-two years ago, the Great Pirate King, Gold Roger, was executed in front of a crowd in Logue Town. The place of his birth was raucous and electric with excitement, rage, fear, and disdain, not only for Roger, but for the government executing him as well. He spoke his final words loud and clear, daring the world to find his treasure with a laugh, kicking off the Great Age of Piracy.

Decades have passed since then. The world has fallen into the hands of monsters. A government once strong lay shattered. Tenuous treaties and fragile alliances have fallen. Despots and tyrants have taken their place, leaving the rest of the world to either pick up the scant pieces that remain, or shut themselves off for their safety.

People pray to the Sun God Nika. Their salvation shall never come; their god is dead.

This is the story about those who are left.

This is the story of the Straw Hat Pirates.

(Notes under the cut.)

Okay! So! Context! This is actually a rehabbed story that I originally began back in high school… which was fifteen years ago. For context, I originally started writing this during the Thriller Bark Saga, before Brook even joined the crew, and last updated it pre-timeskip. Ace died while I was writing the first version of this. It took such a toll on me that I just dropped this thing cold a month later, saying that I’d pick it back up again when I was up to it.

Well, I’m up to it.

Thankfully, the amount of time that has passed is enough to make me able to really take a critical look at the original version and the one that’ll be posted here. If you’ve been around enough to recall my original back on FFN, don’t worry: I’ve been able to excise a lot of what comes off now as just weird and thematically wonky. It aged very poorly. That’s okay though, as it shows how much further I’ve come since then. One can do a lot of learning in fifteen years. The original also felt very empty, in a sense, but I now know that’s also because I was literally working with only, what, a third of the series when I first laid everything out? There’s more depth now, amongst other things, despite the fact I’m keeping some beats/elements while changing others, so it won't be a complete rehash. Language will be a big part of this, as well as characters and factors we’ve learned about in-canon during the interim. This past summer (plus some) has been almost all prepwork for this, so hopefully that will show. I will also take this opportunity to say that the original actually predicted a couple really specific things I’m not proud to have predicted, but hey… sometimes you write teenage edgey garbage, and sometimes your teenage edgey garbage is a window into the future of not only your favorite series, but the state of your generation. Them’s the breaks, I guess.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

One – Romance Twilight

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A pale, calm dawn broke on the horizon, washing the small spit of an island in its soft glow. Its solitary resident crawled out of her makeshift shelter and stretched herself awake—there was no sleeping while the sun was up. She took the straw hat from her neck and placed it upon her head as she made her way down to the beach. There was nothing she could see in the distance, so she shrugged and got to work on getting some breakfast. Before long she had a fire going and freshly-speared fish grilling—she needed to conserve the fruit on the island without knowing when someone else would get there.

When indeed; she had been stranded for a week. Without any of the tools to fix it, she glared at her broken dinghy with a disdain she wasn’t entirely certain she wanted to process at the moment. The woman threw another plank from the boat on the small fire—at least it was still good for something.

Eventually, the mouth-watering smell of grilled fish began to reach the woman’s nose. She was excited—her catch was larger than before—and it appeared as though she might actually get to eat her fill for once. One bite when they were done and it tasted as though the cay was actually heaven. She squealed in delight; at least she wasn’t going to starve any time soon, and her water barrel was far from running dry thanks to the gentle rain from the night before.

As she ate, the woman kept watch on the horizon. She was on her last piece of fish when she noticed a dark speck and stared it down. There had been many traitorous dark specks on the horizon before, though eventually, she realized that this one was the real deal. Jumping and hollering, she tried to get the craft’s attention, with it coming ever closer.

Slowly… it was headed her way on the current alone.

No one was shouting back, or visibly trying to reach shore, or visible period.

Something was very, very wrong.

“Shit,” she cursed when she realized she wasn’t being answered. She pulled a length of rope from her ruined dinghy and made a lasso, throwing it once the boat was close enough. It took a couple tries, but she was able to snag the small craft and pull it up to shore. She looked inside and grimaced: three men about her age were laying there, looking sunburnt, half-dead, and definitely worse for wear. They seemed thin and malnourished, with faded, ratty clothes that were in just as bad of shape as their frayed, ventilated sail. One even seemed to have many scars—more than her, which was an accomplishment—and another’s eyeglasses were cracked and chipped. Pulling them ashore, she put her ear to their chests to check for heartbeats—at least they were still alive.

Getting them out of the sun and beneath the trees, the woman took the water she had gathered and poured a little bit into each of her guests’ mouths. When it seemed to go down, she grabbed her spear and went to go catch more fish on the other side of the island. By the time she returned with fish in-hand, one of the men had woken up and was marveling at the fact he was still alive.

“You speak Eastern?” she asked. The sound of her voice spooked him, making him nearly jump out of his skin. He ran a hand through his black hair when he realized she had likely been his rescuer and chuckled weakly.

“Yeah, we do.”

“Then don’t move,” she advised. “You’re still kinda weak.”

“I thought we were goners,” he admitted. Then it dawned on him. “You… uh… live here…?”

“Temporarily, as of late,” she shrugged. She took her cup and filled it with water, handing it to him. “Soon as you three are better again, I’d appreciate it if you could help me get out of here considering how your boat works and all.”

“I’m sure that can be arranged.” He watched as she tossed a couple more planks on the fire and began gutting the fish. She could tell that he was watching her motions and not her, which meant that the old childhood scars on her limbs and face did not frighten him or make him nauseous. It was actually a rather novel reaction. “You cook?”

“Under better circumstances, yeah. I’m not a cook, but I won’t starve.” She looked at him and let out a chuckle. “I’m Rika.”

“I… uh… I’m Piiman; you can call me Manni. Tamanegi, Ninjin, and I were trying to reach Shells Town. Do you know how to get there?”

“Yeah… don’t.”

“We hear if someone just lays low—”

“Just trust me: don’t.” She poked at the fire and embers crackled into the air. “I just came from there.”

They stayed quiet for a while, the sounds of the ocean and fire contrasting against one another. Piiman sipped the water cautiously while he watched Rika, embarrassed that he was at this stranger’s complete mercy. His head throbbed and he felt cold—he was definitely in no position to argue much.

“Where are you headed, then?” he wondered.

“Logue Town.”

That caught his interest. “Why there?”

“…because, that’s going to be my first step to fixing this mess.”

“This mess…?”

“Yeah—don’t you remember when we were little and things were weird, but not… well… total shit?”

“Well, of course, but…”

“…but what…?”

“How do you propose on doing that? You’re one person.”

Rika grinned widely and stabbed a fish-laden stick by the fire.

“I’m gonna be King of the Pirates.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

It took a while for the other two castaways to wake up, but once they did, all three men bounced back from near-starvation and overexposure rather quickly as the day progressed. Ninjin seemed the largest and strongest—a quiet man of few words, as she imagined someone with as many scars to be—while Tamanegi was particularly chatty once he got going, the bespectacled man saying less than his friend in dozens as many words. Piiman appeared to be the glue that held them together, with his mediation assistance being more than necessary for one to be able to talk while the other had to take a breath.

“It’s down-right decent to be able to interact with someone who remembers and liked the world as it was before,” Tamanegi said. They were sitting around the campfire, eating some scavenged fruits before they went to sleep, for in the morning they would be setting sail for the nearest island. Rika already had a course charted and all the trio needed to do was let her steer their ship.

“It’s weird sometimes, talking to someone younger than us, and realizing what we know as wrong they think as just… normal,” she shivered. “I mean, you don’t look that much older than me, and I was nine when the Summit War happened.”

“We were ten,” Piiman supplied. He hugged his knees as he stared at the fire. “It’s hard to believe that it’ll be twenty years next year.”

“You really want to make it like before then?” Ninjin wondered. Rika nodded.

“It wasn’t perfect, I know that, but if we can get close enough, then it’s an improvement on now.”

“Plenty of things can be considered an improvement to the present day,” Tamanegi mentioned. “What makes you think that you can bring order to the world if you become Pirate King? It won’t be restarting the Government or anything like that…”

“No one has held the title since Roger, and that commands respect,” she explained. “I can put my foot down and get the East Blue Bosses in line, open up places like Wano and Dressrosa, connect people from Germa to Briss…”

“I didn’t think places like that were common knowledge anymore,” Tamanegi frowned. “The movement of such information is restricted.”

“She’s not an idiot, Tam,” Piiman groaned. “Most people can learn about those places, even if it’s just stuff from old books, or stories from old neighbors. We all still had school when the Summit War happened.”

“How did you know, if you are aware that is difficult information to come across?” Rika asked. The men glanced amongst one another and shrugged.

“Our island was on an information lockdown for a lot of years—nothing in, nothing out—but I was able to find things out through discarded newspapers and overheard conversations that the bosses had with visitors,” Tamanegi said. “It’s bad when it’s accurate to say that the Grand Line is potentially less of a mess.”

“You’re pretty strong though,” Ninjin noted. “You came from Shells Town. No one comes from Shells Town.”

“I saw an opportunity and took it; I’m just lucky,” she shrugged. “You three are pretty much the same in that regard, aren’t you?”

“In a way,” Piiman admitted. He took a bite of the fruit he was holding and smiled at it. “This stuff is the best we’ve tasted in a long time.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Rika nodded. She then grinned. “I know I’m a one-woman-act right now, but would you three like to join my crew?”

“…and become pirates…?!” Tamanegi’s eyes bugged, absolutely mind-boggled. “Pirates were what ruined our lives to begin with!”

“The Captain didn’t,” Ninjin replied simply.

“Yeah—he was all about living free and doing what was right, even if he lied a lot,” Piiman said, voice soft. Tamanegi relaxed and took off his glasses to wipe tears from his eyes.

“When we were little, there was an older boy in the village… we looked up to him,” he explained. “He’s… well… even one of the best pirates in the world can’t handle a bunch of enemies at once.”

“I looked up to someone too,” Rika said. “He ended up kicking the spoiled wolf that was the pet of a high-ranking military man’s son. I didn’t know him for very long, but he did that for me after the wolf attacked me… and…” She gestured to the hat upon her head. “This used to belong to him—it blew my way right before he was executed as an example.”

“Morgan…?” Tamanegi asked. Rika nodded.

“He’s dead now, so I saw the opportunity while there was a power vacuum and bolted.” She saw the men grow tense—they knew the name well enough.

“Morgan is dead?!” Tamanegi marveled. “How?!”

“In front of the whole town, the Axe-Hand turned towards the wrong throat,” she said. “That was months ago… the end of last year, actually, if I’ve kept time right.”

“We’ve been kinda drifting for about that long,” Piiman said. “We’ve been surviving on others’ leftovers on the varying islands and sandbars that we come across.”

“Then let’s stop surviving and live instead,” Rika grinned. “You can be the first three recruits to the Straw Hat Pirates.”

“More like a founding member of the Straw Hat Pirates,” Tamanegi said, rolling his eyes. “You can’t be a crew of one.”

“You can… it just doesn’t work very well.” Rika held out her hand, palm down. “What do you say?”

“Can’t be worse than before,” Ninjin shrugged, placing his hand atop hers. Hesitantly, Piiman put his hand on Ninjin’s, and then all three looked at Tamanegi.

“What…?”

“It won’t work unless you do it too,” Ninjin frowned. “Come on.”

“Fine…” He placed his hand atop of the pile and Rika’s grin grew wide.

“From this day on, we are the Straw Hat Pirates—we are the ones who are going to fix this age into something more livable, for us and all the ones after us! There is nothing that will stop us from being the best force to hit these seas in nearly fifty years!”

“You’re definitely going to need someone to write this stupidity down if anyone’s going to believe you in the future,” Tamanegi deadpanned. Rika just laughed.

“Shishishi—says one of the guys named after vegetables—if we don’t do it, then who will?” Everyone took their hands back and Rika threw another piece of wood on the fire. “Soon as you three are able, we can set out.”

“Tomorrow,” Tamanegi decided wearily. “If we don’t set out, the harder it will be when we do, and then we’ll run out of provisions here… or worse… get caught by someone who’d rather us not be out wandering on our own.”

“It’s decided, then!” Rika said. She stood and placed her hands on her hips triumphantly. “In the morning, we’ll head on over to the nearest island chain and get more provisions so we can make it to Logue Town and the Grand Line!” She pointed off in the distance, signaling where it was they were headed. “I already have the course—we just have to get on the right current!”

“...like how you found yourself here?” Piiman smirked. Rika pouted in response.

“Listen: I got caught in a storm. That’s why my boat’s wrecked and how come it didn’t wreck anywhere near people. It’s not like you three were able to do much better.”

Only Ninjin snickered at that.

“Look out, six seas!” she said smugly. “We might be late to start, but you will be ours!”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A/N: Since I'm writing in English and we start in the East Blue, the "default" is going to be "English = Eastern". We're gonna have a punctuation nightmare from here on out in order to differentiate between all the meta-translated dialogue, so I'll keep y'all abreast of what's going on with that front.

#One Piece #fan fiction #Alternate Universe fic #bad future fic #spoilers for basically the entire manga thusfar #but in a weird way #alternate Straw Hat Pirates #alternate Mugiwara Kaizokudan #alternate Mugiwara no Ichimi #I have some Whouffaldi stuff in the pipeline I swear #it's just that this took up a good chunk of my summer writing brainpower and now we have this #back on my weeb bullshit? baby i never left #...aaaand my character tags down here so they don't hit or nothing #Rika #Ninjin #Tamanegi #Piiman #Syrup Trio #Veggie Trio #aged-up characters

[noircisaint]

———  basics! ♡

(PEN)NAME:  Deus

PRONOUNS:  he / him

ZODIAC SIGNS:  Capricorn. That is the only thing I know. I’ve seen people talk about moon/sun signs, and ‘rising’ and i frankly do not have an idea what all that is about-

TAKEN OR SINGLE:  imagine being single for 24 years, could not be me heh.

TIME ZONE:  Central European (Summer) Time.

———  three  facts! ♡

I am a graduate app developer.

I can fold my right ear into itself.

With some warm up I can be a pretty good singer.

———  experience ! ♡

i started somewhere around end 2014 - begin 2015 i believe? Right here on tumblr, and since then i’ve had a few blogs, starting with a (crappy) OC, then a multimuse in another fandom. After some time i just got a bite of Fate. Mostly through gif sets that circled around and i’ve been hooked since. Eventually around January 2017 i started this blog, so i’ve been around here for 5 years now.

———  muse preference !  ♡

stoic/serious muses work the best for me i suppose? i’ve tried muses that strayed from that and i’ve always found that my portrayal just wasn’t accurate enough to satisfy me. (Or maybe it was the fact that i tried a muse from a completely different fandom, who knows). i’ve had fate multimuses before, but i find that the divided attention to each muse doesn’t give them enough room to ‘breathe’ if you get what i am saying. I’ve always been comfy with Jeanne through. probably why she’s the one that has survived this long.

———  FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡    

FLUFF:  i like it. it is just that Jeanne has a hard time swallowing it when it comes from non-specific people. but honestly she can use some love and affection. and with enough development also returns it. Jeanne just needs time to adjust to the warmth of people that care for her when she has been a cold lone soul for so long.

ANGST:  oh boy. there is a lot of emotional angst to be had here. Jeanne bottles up so much and hides it so well, but with the right person she might unravel. and while she never had a breakdown before, she’s going to break real badly. i think that angst can be good for development. it’s like a seasoning. use some to enrich the dish that is your muse, use too much and you may mess the favor up completely. i won’t mind writing it, but she is hard to crack and get to her innermost feelings.

SMUT:  any time the word is mentioned, she keeps a blade against my throat. allowing herself to be so vulnerable is very difficult for her, not to mention she’s very private. letting people see her bare just kinda irks her. she can grow over this of course with a partner. i don’t mind writing it when she geels she is ready for it with someone of her pickings.

PLOT / MEMES:  love both really. if you don’t know to do between then. muses can feel each other kinda out via memes. interactions can be difficult at times when you don’t have a proper image of each other’s muses. on the side, i do like plotting as well. that is where my extra long replies come and go to ;). there are so many ideas to do, even more when an Alternate Universe is used for it.

tagged by: @jhansikevidrohi. thank you Orrie.

tagging: @constellaris, @grailwishes, @phantasmaw, @amaurct, @blotlcss, @vakinari, @thunderwept, @destructivour, @cursedcrest, @counterforced, @sparklymuses, @siamxshade, @foxpriestss, @nvrcmplt, @cosplaydarling, @bridal, @shatterher, @aaternum, @lovedloyalty, @ferinr, @viciousbite, @nephilae, @et3rnal-paradise, @slayersaided, @kunokata, @violetueur, @deityforged, @divineslcyer, @aceparagon, @darabeatha, @ruinedrot, @pseudomonarkaerenea, @moonlightmagus, @shanaoh, @originlist, @dermapyre, @pseudomonacarriea, @zhuangshii, @homeport, @lyriccl, @nulltune. have fun with it, nerds (friendly).

#;;Dash games

[the-great-lightwood-bane]

alone in the dark

Chapter 1 of 2 (Chapter 2)

Malec | Rated teen | tw mind control, kidnapping 

Day 16: No Way Out | Mind Control | “No one’s coming.”

Summary: There is no way out.

You are alone.

Nobody is coming for you.

Kidnapped and alone, Magnus resists the mind control of the warlock who's taken him — but he can't hold out forever.

A/N: look at me still on time for whumptober—

Read it on AO3 or below the cut.

There is no way out. 

You are alone. 

Nobody is coming for you. 

The words echo in Magnus’ mind with more force than they ought, and even as he tries to push them away, they slink in around the edges of his mind. 

He knows what this is. He’s only experienced it a few times, and each of those long ago, but it was traumatising enough that he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the feeling. 

Having somebody else control your mind is not fun. 

There is no way out, the whispers hiss, but Magnus focuses on a blank wall, on nothing but the wall, the wall that will block out unwelcome thoughts. 

At least his experience has taught him how to deal with it. 

The warlock who’s been doing this is trying to break him. Her name is Cynthia Stell; she’s long been a hardliner against cooperating with Shadowhunters, and now she’s kidnapped Magnus to undermine the peace efforts he and Alec are leading. 

Her specialty is mind magic. 

Nobody is coming for you, his mind — no, not his mind, her magic — tells him again. Magnus thinks of the blank wall. A blank wall is all that matters. Whether or not people are coming is irrelevant; he must think only about the blank wall. 

It’s the only way to keep himself sane. 

He can feel Cynthia pouring magic into him, trying to persuade him to think what she wants him to think, but she cannot evade the blank wall. She cannot get around it. It is all he is thinking of. 

Her magic cuts off, and Magnus relaxes. 

The fortunate part of mind control magic is that it uses up quite a lot of the caster’s energy, and despite her centuries of practicing it, even Cynthia can’t hold the persuasion for long. 

Thanks to that, Magnus will hold out until he’s rescued — until Alec comes. Alec will come; that certainty sits deep in his bones, protected from Cynthia’s whispers by the blank wall Magnus builds. 

His cell door creaks open, and there Cynthia stands, glowering at him. “You shouldn’t be able to resist me this long.”

“Shouldn’t I?” Magnus raises and eyebrow. Riling her up can do no harm, and it’s entertaining. She doesn’t know that he has practice evading her control, centuries-old as it is. A warlock’s mind control is nothing on that of a Prince of Hell, and living under Asmodeus’ tutelage, Magnus had to learn to resist it. 

She sighs. “You really shouldn’t be so stubborn. I’m right, after all.”

“Alec will rescue me, however little you think of Shadowhunters,” Magnus tells her. 

Unfortunately, that’s what she’s waiting for. Cynthia smiles. “Perhaps he would come, once he realised you were missing. But I’ve taken measures to prevent that.”

“Have you hurt him?” Magnus knows there’s a note of desperation in his voice, but if she’s kidnapped Alec, too, if she’s controlling his mind like she’s controlling Magnus’—

“Oh dear no,” she says with a laugh, which is a relief aside from the fact that she’s as cocky as ever. “I haven’t ever laid eyes on him, let alone magic. But what I have done is stolen and unlocked your phone.” She holds it up in the air, open to a texting app although Magnus can’t see what she’s sent from his account. 

“What did you do,” he asks, although it’s really more of a statement; she’s going to tell him whatever he says. 

“I’ve texted your little boytoy,” she replies, smiling at him. “Would you like to see it?”

She holds the screen closer to Magnus’ face, allowing him to see the texts she’d sent. 

Below Alec’s last text — a simple “I love you too <3”, because Alec texted with perfect grammar and punctuation and typed out emojis — are a series of messages which “Magnus” has sent a minute ago. 

As Magnus reads them, his heart sinks. It’s a breakup text, and a rather cruel one; Cynthia’s made Magnus seem like some sort of playboy, who’s been dating Alec for the thrill of it and is now leaving him for somebody else. 

“Even your precious Nephilim knows your reputation,” Cynthia says, still smirking. “He’ll be too upset about getting dumped to wonder if the message is legitimate. He’s not coming to get you out. No one’s coming.”

No one’s coming, no one’s coming, no one’s coming. The whispers have started up again in Magnus’ head, and he doesn’t know if they’re his own thoughts or Cynthia’s or a combination. He can’t focus on the blank wall because the wall was built around his certainty that Alec would come and now that certainty has shattered, leaving Magnus alone in the dark. 

You’re all alone and you’ll never get free. Magnus shudders at the thought, trying to pull away from it, to convince himself otherwise, but logical thinking has scattered to the winds under Cynthia’s onslaught. 

No, he has to find a way out — there has to be a way — but the whispers grow to a roar. NO WAY OUT. NO ONE’S COMING. 

Distantly, he’s aware of Cynthia standing up and looking down at him. Alec is going to hate you, her whispers said, confidentially. He’ll be heartbroken and then he’ll start to get angry at you for leaving him like that, and anger morphs easily enough into hate. 

“Once you’re both broken,” Cynthia says aloud, “I’ll use you two to destroy the alliance you’re building.” 

Alec is going to hate you, the whispers repeated. Alec is going to hate you is going to hate you is going to hate you hate you hate you. 

There’s no way out. No one is coming. And Alec hates him. 

In the spinning vortex of whispers, the darkness in Magnus’ mind rises like a curse, and he falls into the depths of his mind.

#whumptober2022 #no.16 #no way out #mind control #no one's coming #fic #tsc #the shadowhunter chronicles #tmi #the mortal instruments #kidnapping #my fic #magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #alec lightwood bane #magnus lightwood bane #magnus x alec #alec x magnus

[dyketectivecomics]

So a general Reading Update real quick while I try to get my life in order once again:

I’ve taken a bit of a sabbatical to catch up with some other non-comics related reading (and to hurry along my goal to read/reread 30 books by the end of the year, which is going pretty well. I’m already standing at 10 completed right now!)

My other goal to log 4k total comics read is still pretty lofty, but doable if I keep to about 4 comics logged a day.

So to help that along currently on the docket I’ve got:

New Titans - currently in the middle of NT Annual #6! Another Starfire space odyssey. still have Quite a ways to go, but it’s more than possible imo

Nice House on the Lake - I’ve gotten to around #5 and took a bit of a break. I’ve enjoyed it so far, though! Tynion’s character work here has been a fun read!

(Not DC but) Umbrella Academy: Hotel Oblivion - I was reading UA forever ago when the show started and had stopped at Oblivion right before the second season dropped iirc. Now I’ve been making my dad wait to watch the 3rd season with me until I finish reading this last leg and it’s been far too long ;-;

Also in the interest of completionism, I’ve been thinking about finally finishing the first Deathstroke run that I had started way back in 2018/2019. All of the issues are collected on the dc app and it’s something that’s been bothering me for quite some time. Tbh kinda want to push through it for Rose alone akdjsk

Speaking of which, there’s still a HELLA lot of issues from the ‘88 GA run missing, but considering that I have a good stretch of it physically with me, I can easily 🏴‍☠️the rest. I’ve been meaning to and haven’t yet found the motivation to just yet.

Obvsly there’s no set schedule that I’m putting myself on with these. And this isn’t even accounting for some of the miniseries that I’ve read in the meantime or plan to read in the near future. I’m not sure which ones I wanna mention rn, or which ones y’all would interested in hearing my thoughts on. Readings been one of those things to help pull me through the month while waiting for several things to settle down.

Which is part of why the queue’s been so sporadic ;-; thanks for being patient with me guys <3

#randy reads #the work/life balance was thrown way off and now I’m trying to find a better routine once again #but with the ‘rents out this weekend 👀 I’m so ready to put myself on a reading/writing lockdown 👏 #but we’ll see!!! we shall see! #oh! I started BB:Graduation Day since I rlly couldn’t wait to pick right up for Jaime 😂 #also read a couple more from that Convergence event bc I wanted quick reads too #I’m just jumping around to whatever’s grabbing my attention atm yk? #might revisit my To Read list soon. I know there’s a lot of recs I’ve gotten over the years and I def need to start Some Where #with some characters. given that I wanna keep breaking out of the Gotham chokehold #so much to read ;-; so much

[adviserbabycom]

Lollipop Baby Monitor Review

Looking for a baby monitor that's fast and easy to set up? Look no further than the Lollipop baby camera. Our camera is compatible with both iOS and Android systems, so you can connect it to your phone in minutes. Plus, our advanced night vision ensures you can keep an eye on your little one even in the dark. And if you have more than one child, our multi-streaming feature lets you watch them all at once. So relax and take a break - the Lollipop baby camera has got you covered. What're good folks? D Anthony here from the dad fog today, we're gonna talk about a baby monitor, but not just any baby monitors a monitor that incredibly resembles a Lollipop. Lollipop: Best Wireless Baby Monitor with APP The good folks over at Lollipop sent this over for me to take a look at it. And boy, did I take a look at it? It's my wow. Lollipop cons: All right. Before we get started, I know we were supposed to be working on this consistency thing. It was supposed to be a video, you know, every week I think behind like one, but I have a good reason why I've been working on something.  We have a clothing line called create dope humans, and now these shirts are available to toddlers, youth, and infants picking up one of these shirts is a great way to support the channel. And if you're into that kind of thing, just go ahead, click the link and the description without first there do baby monitors have come a long way since the first one in 1937.  And this one here that we're looking at is pretty sleek. And I'm very excited to show it to you guys. Now, our four-month-old Aaliyah is no longer sleeping in our bed and she is now in her crib far, far, far away. We still need visibility to her, which is why this baby monitor comes into play. Now, when it comes to baby monitors, here is what is important to me, safety and privacy, convenience and ease of use useful features. Lollipop Cons: price Lollipop cons: price  The biggest thing I worry about when it comes to any Wi-Fi monitor is has the company has taken the correct precautions to prevent unauthorized usage and access to my baby monitor privacy mode on Lollipop gives access only to people who are connected to your Wi-Fi network, reducing the risk of an outsider, accessing the monitor. That is a good thing. I've seen countless stories of monitors being hacked too easily. So this big deal really big deal from me. Privacy mode is for anybody who is connected to your network, but if you're anything like me and you like to take late night strolls around the neighborhood, by yourself, you're clearly away from your Wi-Fi network. In that sense, there's an option for you to cut that privacy mode off and you can still have access while you are away out to dinner. The babysitter comes through long on the lonely, through the lonely neighborhood. Something like that. Another feature that is good as soon as somebody else accesses your Lollipop. As soon as somebody else accesses your Lollipop, you get a notification. So in the event that something happens, you will get a notification that says this person has just now connected to your Lollipop. Let's look at features. The packaging here is incredibly sleek. I do enjoy the branding efforts here. Now you can get this in a few different colors. They have pink and they also have teal. I think it'll be good if they had a larger range of colors, just, you know, to kinda keep it. But I think it's part of their branding and their, their marketing strategy.  They're only sticking with a couple of colors. We went with the teal because it matches the little flowers that Rachel put on the wall. What comes in the package is you get some screws, some mounting screws, and you get this right here. This is actually a branch. You can put it in there, like so, and mount to the wall. I actually thought this was an antler thought. This was a dear antler. I was like, why, why would they give me an antler? And they only gave me one at that. Definitely not an antler, definitely is a branch for wall decor design. Now the cool thing about some of the features on here is you can take pictures in real-time and store them to your library right there on the Lollipop. Now, while you can take pictures, I haven't found a way to be able to take videos and maybe something that they offer in, their upsell of Lollipop care, but on this free version, just day today, I haven't been able to figure out how to record video Now, if you have a Google home or some kind of screen with a virtual assistant, you can connect your Wi-Fi baby monitor to these displays on the website. It says that it is compatible with Google home, but I have not been able to connect my, um, my Lollipop to Google home. It just, it just doesn't work. There's no dropdown for it. I went through it about 17 times. It, you can't connect it.  And that, that kind of sucks because in the middle of the night, you know, something happens. You have to kind of go through the phone and open it. And there's no just external monitor for you to just kind of roll over, press a quick button, and look at like some other non-Wi-Fi related monitors. The image is very crisp on the Lollipop The image is very crisp on the Lollipop. I like the way that it looks on my phone. It is broadcast in 1080 P. But the thing that I just don't really care for is I can't rotate the camera at all. So I have to put the camera in a very specific location. I have to be comfortable with that location. There's no looking around the room or anything like just baby, baby, baby. That's it. Now, if you like, you can bend your Lollipop and sit it may be on the table or on a nightstand next to your crib. It has what is most likely a wire on the inside of this silicone exterior that's bendable that allows you to place the baby monitor on a table or a stand mounting is pretty easy. Soon as you open up the app, there are three different ways that you can Mount your Lollipop. Now we put ours right on the crib directly facing kind of diagonally downward, but you can just as easily Mount it on the, uh, antler or the branch. If you like, you can set the monitor up to notify you. If the room gets over a certain DPS. So if the room gets too loud, you get a notification on your phone that, that there is an increase or uptake noise. That uptake is most likely your baby crying. Now, if your child is the one that needs music to go to sleep, there are some options on there that you can use. Noark chopping a hairdryer, a vacuum sea wave, some water. And if the baby is still in the womb, a hairdryer, she doesn't care about a hairdryer. All right, when it comes to cost, you're looking at about $150 for your very own Lollipop, baby monitor. In my opinion, it's a very competitive price considering everything that it does. And when you look in the baby Wi-Fi market, even regular Wi-Fi camera markets, it's on parts about that. The additional thing that they add is their Lollipop care. Now that ranges from $29, all the way up to $200 per year, you get a few extra features like the ability to record continuously for 24 hours. Now, I think the basic version is just fine and it's worked for us pretty well. So depending on your style, there may or may not be a need to actually add on this Lollipop care. So that's it guys. That's all I got for you guys today. I hope you guys enjoyed this. Um, very cool. Looking looks like an eye. That's it for me today. I hope you guys enjoyed the product review for the Lollipop, baby monitor. Lollipop Wi-Fi® baby camera FAQ I think that's a great idea! They just need the login info, and I keep one phone logged into my account so we don't have any problems with swapping phones or forgetting who was supposed to watch which kids at what time. The monitor is a WI-FI-based baby camera and the live feed is through Lollipop. However, if your home Wi-Fi crashes then this will not work because there's no way to get internet access on its own! But luckily for you, we have Network Diagnosis which helps diagnose networks so that might be helpful in setting up an environment where parents can view their babies easily without having any problems viewing them via smartphone app or computer screencast when they're away from home Lower the DB level Read the full article

[carneypollock]

Microsoft is Bringing 'Minecraft' to The Oculus Rift

Minecraft is a wonderful and hugely successful game, however, no one would claim its success is dependent on realism. It's blocky graphics filled with sharp right angles and huge "pixels" are far from realistic, but it has its own distinctive style of visuals and plenty of charm. It turns out that Minecraft's huge open-world nature makes it an excellent game for virtual reality. Microsoft has already demonstrated the game on HoloLens and now, the company is making an announcement that it will be compatible with Oculus Rift, as well. I was able to see how the game functions with the Rift at Microsoft's spring showcase last week -and despite its blocky style, it could be among the top overall VR experiences available.

For starters, it's important to know that this isn't an entirely new version of Minecraft but it has been updated to work with the Oculus Rift. You can play in survival mode as well as join one of the numerous multiplayer servers that are available. You'll be presented with two different view options when you begin playing. The first places you in a virtual castle, with the game playing on what amounts of a TV screen to the front of you. It's quite a meta- and hilarious to play games within a virtual reality game. However, it's a good way to see things if you want to break from the full VR experience.

When you enter the full experience, the game shifts and you're completely immersed by the world your character is experiencing. Because of the massive scope of Minecraft's vast 3D landscapes it truly feels like you've been taken away from reality, despite the humongous pixels and the lack of fine detail. It's one of the best and most immersive VR experiences I've had so far. In reality, the lack of detail assists in helping Minecraft be so successful -The game doesn't try to mimic reality. Instead, it felt like I was in the world of a cartoon.

Microsoft's demo experience showcases a few of the most memorable moments of the game. I did some mining and battled creeps. I also lit some caves with torchlights and pressed many buttons to interact, and finally rode a minecart along the side of a massive building. This was the most enjoyable part of the demo. TOP MINECRAFT SERVERS I felt like I was flying high and quick. A second mine cart ride let me take a 360-degree look at the vast landscape from way on high as it headed towards a new region, and there was a myriad of activity and visual delights to enjoy on the journey.

As with most things VR, it's hard to do the experience justice in words, but I'll declare that the experience truly highlighted the vastness of the world and did a great job of immersing me in Minecraft. It's not a hugely different version of the game than the HoloLens experience, mostly due to the fact that the Oculus version doesn't include gestures and voice commands, however it's still an ideal place for exploring. Unfortunately, there's no word on exactly when Minecraft will be made available for public use in VR, but hopefully it won't be too long after the Rift's release later this month -- "killer app" is a popular term however Minecraft could be one for the nascent VR scene.

#Top minecraft servers

[ajockeynamedpod]

time to vent into the aether I guess

i am so tired of my useless cunt of a life. 33 years of FUCKING NOTHING. I’m sick of this. i don’t feel respected, anyone even remotely local blows me the fuck off. no one makes plans with me anymore. I’m a dog in a cage waiting for someone to come play with it and no one will. or they hang out with someone who actively adores my abuser/assaulter. that feels great.

The friends that live near me aren’t even always busy. I’ve told them many times “hey if you have free time lmk I’m always down to hang!!” And they say “oh yeah sure! It’s been awhile!” And then they constantly make posts about being bored on their days off with nothing to do. like…. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I’m nothing. if I had a heart attack and died these people wouldn’t even care. It’s multiple people.

I’m invisible to everyone. Even the things I’m proud of I feel like they get torn down. My love for certain characters because someone HAS to love them “better”, THERE IS NOTHING ELSE I AM GOOD AT. I am a stupid useless lump of meat with no skills and no talents. at least let me have this.

Speaking of, the fact that my comfort characters get FUCK ALL even when a big artist in the fandom does a huge release and INCLUDES EVERY CHARACTER IN THAT PART EXCEPT FOR THEM ON THEIR STICKER SHEETS AND PINS? When I know the person DOES like those characters and has posted as such before????

Or the fact that there’s NO ONE MAKES JOJOLION ANYTHING except for yasugap because I guess that’s all anyone got out of that entire 10 year long part is just The Main Guy and The Main Girl?

I have so little comfort content and it’s hard to make my own when the fibro and arthritis AND carpal tunnel are all flaring up bad and making drawing the way I do impossible right now. I hold a pencil and it feels like knives.

I’m still useless. It’s like pulling teeth to go anywhere and even then it’s only my mom. I can’t keep rotting here but I have no choice and I can’t work. I can’t even take commissions right now because of the stupid hand thing and I don’t think anyone else is going to want it. It’s not colored, it’s not beautiful, it’s a phone picture taken of a sketch on a piece of paper. Because I have no scanner and scanner apps are DOGSHIT.

I’m getting sicker and sicker. My body is in a constant state of adrenal response now which is funny because I’m also sleeping about 15 hours a day. I can’t stop being tired.

I wish I were dead but I can’t be because I’m a coward and I keep holding up hope stuff will get better. But it won’t. None of it will. I’ll be denied for disability I’m sure because I have been three separate times, even though it’s all worse now.

I don’t have income or any money of my own and my bf can’t help me anymore and I don’t wanna ask anyone. I’ve done it too much. I can’t do it anymore. People already look down oj me for it. “you’re a grown ass adult lmao” tell that to literally every part of my body that doesn’t fucking function right. I went to vocational rehab. There’s NOTHING I CAN DO. It all interferes with one disability or another. It’s the perfect storm of dogshit.

everything is breaking around me and no one cares and I never want to wake up again. i just wanna do dumb shit with salezucc and yotsusho forever because nothing else even matters anymore. but no one even cares about that anymore except like one person each. because they’re not Kakyoin or Risotto or Bruno or whatever.

fuck man. i hope I don’t wake up. everything I’ve done and tried so hard to do to get better is either not working or backfiring.

I’m gonna take my fourth nap of the day and my god do I hope I never wake up. All that would be missed is my fucking vagina at this point. all I am is a depressed sex doll with assault trauma who reopens that wound constantly.

I just don’t care enough anymore. I really don’t. I’m not even eating as much as I used to and food is such a joy for me. I can’t even bother to eat. what a fucking loser.