#realizing that pretty much an entire year of high school will have been effectively wasted socially

[youretoosweetforme]

I hate school. Which is very unfortunate, because school does actually have the potential to be fun. But alas

#i am literally dead #realizing that pretty much an entire year of high school will have been effectively wasted socially #because my brain and mental health genetics suck #it makes me mad #and really frustrated #antiopa

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Cliche (J.HS)

Warnings : swearing, mentions of hook ups, suggestive content, way too many cliches

Word Count : 5289

Synopsis : hoseok wasn’t one for cliches, but when they come to her, maybe they aren’t so bad. 

They couldn’t be more opposite. Like a good versus evil movie in real life, minus all the fighting. One look at both of them and it was obvious that in any other scenario, they would never give each other a second glance.

           She was what one could describe as a goody two shoes. One look at her knee length, flowy skirt with her blouse, buttoned to the top, tucked in could tell you that. Always seen with a book, or her equally as good friends. Quiet and soft spoken, nearly invisible. She focused on school instead of boys. But for one night, she wanted to forget all of that. She didn’t want to be a goody two shoes.

           He was the bad boy; ripped jeans and leather jackets. He rode his motorcycle to school everyday, catching the attention of every girl in school. Always seen with a new girl and his boisterous friends, he was someone a good girl would run from. Never one for cliches, Jung Hoseok would steer clear of the good girls, refusing to be the one to corrupt them. He would leave that to his best friend, Min Yoongi. But for just one night, he would give into the cliché.

           She told her friends she would have to skip their weekly movie night as there was a major project due that she wanted to work on instead. Rejecting her best friend, Jimin’s, offer for help, she busied herself. One look in the mirror, she knew her entire look would have to change if she wanted his attention. She traded her pink skirt and white blouse for a red dress. One that left little to the imagination. Adding some liner and lipstick, she slid her feet into a pair of strappy heels, and she left for the club she heard he would be at.

           Lights flashing and music pounding; it took a bit of adjusting. She found herself letting loose after only a couple of drinks. She noticed him across the room, chatting up a pretty blonde, and she knew she needed to get his attention soon. Just for one night, she wouldn’t be the good girl.

           His eyes were on the slender body of the pretty blonde flirting with him, and he was debating leaving early to take her home, when Yoongi hit him on the shoulder, pointing to a girl wearing a little red dress. She was swaying her hips to the music while sipping on her drink, catching the attention of nearly every guy in the club. He had to have her.

           The pretty blonde was long forgotten as he made his way towards the girl in the red dress, familiar but he couldn’t quite place where he knew her. He introduced himself with his famous smirk, and she knew she had won. He offered to buy her a drink and she took one look at her half empty glass, chugging it and agreeing to his offer. He couldn’t help the chuckle that left his lips as he led her back to the bar, a hand rest dangerously close to her ass.

           He spent the night using every trick in the book, and she spent the night basking in his attention. “What do you say we get out of here?” He finally whispered into her ear, loud enough for her to hear over the booming bass. Hoseok waved goodbye to the group he arrived with and left with her under his arm.

           A shiver ran down her spine as they stepped out into the chilly air, much colder than the sweat filled club. Without thinking, he slid his leather jacket off and placed it on her shoulders, leaving one arm draped across her and pulling her closer as they walked.

           When they got to his apartment, the two of them wasted no time, clothes falling to the floor as their lips met in a heated, lust filled kiss. It was a long night filled with lust and moans. Sweat dripped from his forehead after the third round and he let out a chuckle as she struggled to keep her eyes open.

           She was gone long before he awoke the next afternoon; heading home to shower and change to meet up with her friends for their weekly lunch date. “Movie night wasn’t the same without you.” Jungkook pouted when she sat at their table.

           “I won’t miss another.” She promised. She had her night of letting go of her good girl persona. Though she had the time of her life, along with the best sex she’d ever had, it wasn’t going to become a habit of hers.

           When Monday rolled around, rumours of a new girl spread like wildfire. A new girl that already scored time in bed with Hoseok. She held her books closer to her body as Jimin asked a passing senior why everyone seemed to care about this new girl. “Hoseok can’t stop talking about her. Says she was the best lay he’s ever had.” Her cheeks practically glowed a rosy colour at this information.

           Her and Jimin were walking passed the parking lot where Hoseok and his buddies hung out when Taehyung called out to her. She turned to face the parking lot where Tae was locking his car, but it was Hoseok’s eyes she met. At the sound of her name, he was looking around, ignoring his friends, wondering if it was the same girl from Friday night. His eyes stopped on her; confusion written on his face when Tae draped his arm across her shoulders. It couldn’t be.

           But he recognized her eyes. He recognized the confident smile dancing across her lips. Most importantly, he recognized her soft voice. The same voice that was moaning his name just a couple nights prior was now talking art with Taehyung. She disappeared into the crowd of students, and Hoseok was left more confused than ever. Did he give into a cliché without even realizing it? He had to know.

           So, when her last class ended and she walked to the parking lot to wait for Tae, he was there, leaning against his motorcycle. She met his eyes again, but quickly looked away, refusing to give into whatever possessed her Friday night. “Y/N.” Her name rolled off his tongue like he was the only one meant to say it. She hated that such a simple thing caused her to stop and look at him. She hated how easily he wrapped her around his finger. One night was all he needed, and she was longing for more. “You look different.” He smirked. “Leading a double life?” She turned to face him completely.

           “I’m not quite sure what you’re talking about, Jung Hoseok.” The chuckle that came from him let her know he knew she was lying. He pushed himself off the motorcycle and walked towards her. She took as many steps back as she could before she was pressed up against a car. Hoseok used that to his advantage, and placed his hands on either side of her, effectively trapping her.

           “You can change your clothes, but you have a face that is unforgettable.” She scoffed at the obvious pickup line, trying to hide how much he truly affected her.

           “You had better game Friday.” She stated matter-of-factly. “What do you want, Jung Hoseok.”

           “You know, other girls would be dying to be in your shoes right now.” He chuckled, giving her a once over.

           “I think we both know I’m not other girls.”

           “Oh yeah, that’s obvious.” He licked his lips before biting on his bottom lip. “You know, I’ve never been one for cliches.” He added with a chuckle.

           “It was one night. It’s not like you’re going to fall in love with me and change your fuckboy ways.”

           “Are you sure that’s not what you want, princess?” He whispered in her ear, bringing one hand to trace her jawline, his thumb and pointer finger stopping to lightly grab her chin, tilting her head up ever so slightly. If this was high school, or even freshman year of college, she would be dying at the very thought of being with him romantically. He had always caught her attention, but he never spared her a glance. As he said, he’s not one for cliches, and he’s always been a rebel.

           She used to want him so bad, reading so many stories about the bad boy falling for the good girl. The fuckboy changing his ways for the one he loved. But as the years went on, her feelings of love turned into feelings of lust. She no longer wanted a bad boy boyfriend. She wanted his attention for one night, get it out of her system, and then fall in love with someone who could love her. “I got what I wanted already, Hoseok.” She spat, smacking his hand away from her face and turning to walk away from him. Why was he grabbing onto her wrist like a lovesick boy in a Korean drama? When she turned to look at him, she could tell even he wasn’t sure.

           “Why stop at just one night of fun, when you could come over again?” He smirked. Jung Hoseok never slept with the same girl twice. He never wanted them to get the wrong idea. Jung Hoseok did not do relationships. He didn’t fall in love. No one knew if there was a tragic backstory, like every cliché romance novel would tell you, but everyone knew he preferred one night and to not wake up to them the next day.

           Before she could answer, Taehyung was approaching them, anger written all over his face. “Get your hand off of her!” He screamed, pushing Hoseok away from her. “She isn’t going to fall for your charms, Jung Hoseok. Leave her alone.” Hoseok couldn’t help but laugh, knowing that her friends had no idea where she was Friday night. They had no idea she was the rumoured new girl. The girl in the red dress that was driving Hoseok insane.

           “Taehyung, let’s go.” She said, quickly grabbing Taehyung’s arm, pulling him away from the stare down he was having with Hoseok, praying that Hoseok wouldn’t say anything.

           “Hope I’ll see you again this Friday!” Of course he had to say something. Before she could do anything, Taehyung was pulling away from her grip, storming back over to Hoseok and taking him by the collar of his jacket.

           “What the fuck did you just say?” Hoseok wasn’t even close to phased by the sudden altercation. In fact this is exactly what he was looking for.

           “Oh now this is fun.” He smirked seeing the anger in Taehyung’s eyes. “You’re in love with her.” His grip tightened on his collar. It took everything in Taehyung not to punch him in the face. He knew Hoseok could beat him in a fight, but he couldn’t believe the words coming from his mouth. “You’re in love with her,” he repeated, “And I’m the one that slept with her.” He taunted, a playful smirk on his face.

           “Tae!” She called. His face softened at the mere sound of her voice. He looked over to her, tears welling up in her eyes, and then he looked back to Hoseok, throwing him to the ground.

           “Leave her alone.” He said again before walking back to Y/N. “Please tell me he’s lying, Y/N.” His voice was a lot softer when speaking to her compared to when he was screaming at Hoseok. His answer came with her silence.

           Hoseok didn’t see her that Friday, and though he was disappointed, he wasn’t surprised. She avoided even looking at him throughout the week, whereas Taehyung would glare at him every change he got. She was everywhere he was, despite him never seeing her until recently. Was she always around? How had Hoseok never seen her until now? “Why do you keep looking at Y/N?” Yoongi asked. “Isn’t corrupting good girls my thing?” He joked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

           “She’s the girl from last Friday.” Hoseok admitted with a smirk. “There’s definitely a bad girl dying to come out.” He added, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched her walk around with her nose in a book. He watched as a door swung open and she paid no attention. Without thinking twice, he jumped into action, running towards her, grabbing her wrist, and spinning her into his arms. “Watch where you’re going, princess.” His famous smirk plastered on his face as she rolled her eyes. “What, no thank you?” He called after her as she walked away, and she just flipped him off, not paying him another glance. She was going to be the death of him.

           When word got out the following month that she was the girl driving Hoseok insane, her life completely changed. Her friends stopped inviting her for study sessions, movie nights, and lunch dates. No matter how much she apologized for lying, they wouldn’t talk to her.

           Guys were hitting on her, wanting a piece of the bad girl Hoseok claimed was hidden underneath all her long skirts and fully buttoned blouses.

           Girls started pushing her around. They began dumping drinks on her, throwing food at her. She had gone from practically invisible to the most known girl around school. And she had no one to protect her.

           It wasn’t until Hoseok was walking the halls, laughing his obnoxiously loud laugh, stopping when he saw a crowd gathering, that he knew things were bad. Him and his friends pushed the front of the crowd, seeing a group of girls gathered around her, cutting away at her clothes. “Hoseok says you have a nice body, why not let us all see.” One of the girls cackled, ripping her blouse open, the sound of button bouncing down the halls loud in Hoseok’s ears.

           “Enough!” He shouted, pushing the girls away from her and crouching in front of her. He had no second thoughts as he slipped his jacket from his body and wrapped it around her before wiping away the tears running down her cheeks. The crowd of people that was once laughing hysterically was now completely quiet. Yoongi was speechless watching his friend be so soft in front of so many people. Was this girl really driving him that insane? “Let me take you home.” He whispered, helping her to her feet.

           She didn’t think twice as she cuddled into him, hiding her face in his chest as he wrapped his arm tightly around her. “Thank you.” She whispered. And when she looked up at his face, expecting to see his signature smirk, she was surprised to see a genuine smile. In that moment, the feelings she swore were gone, turned to lust, hit her like a bus. He had the most beautiful smile she’s ever seen, and she didn’t want to go another day never seeing it again.

           She invited him inside when he pulled up outside her place. He obliged, turning his motorcycle off, and walking the couple flights of stairs up to her apartment. He sat on her couch, taking in the minimal décor, and smiling at the pictures of her and her friends she had hung. She quickly changed, sighing as she threw away her now tattered clothes.

           “Seems like you guys have been friends for a long time.” Hoseok pointed out, holding a picture of her and her three best friends standing beside each other in elementary. She took a seat next to Hoseok, taking the framed picture in her hands and smiled at the memory.

           “Yeah. I’ve known them basically my whole life. Taehyung and I were neighbours and spent basically every waking hour with each other. We met Jimin and Jungkook at school, and the four of us clicked immediately.” She explained. “How did you know Tae was in love with me?” She asked, placing the picture on the table, and looking at Hoseok.

           “I could see it in his eyes when I teased you.” She nodded, biting on the inside of her cheeks. She had a hunch that over the years Taehyung developed feelings for her, but she had hoped she was reading too much into things. But he had confessed to her in his car that day. She was about to step out when he spat it out. All she could do was apologize and run up to her apartment. “Sorry if it made things awkward.” She shook her head.

           “Doesn’t matter anyway. The three of them want nothing to do with me.” She confessed. “I lied to them.” She looked down at her hands as she began picking at the skin around her nails. Hoseok noticed and quickly took one of her hands in his, lacing their fingers together.

           “Their loss. You’re pretty great.” He was smiling at her again, while holding her hand. Thoughts of him having feelings for her raced through her mind, driving her insane. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, his heart racing as she smiled at him was new. Never has a simple gesture have him so flustered.

           The following day at school, Hoseok draped his arm across her shoulders as him and his buddies approached her. She looked up at him with wide eyes before looking around at the others, confused as to what was happening. “We’ve decided to be your protection squad.” Hoseok said simply. “Consider yourself lucky.” He added with a whisper. She found herself hiding her face when people looked towards them, and Hoseok couldn’t help but laugh. “Come on princess, where’s the confidence you had that night?” She rolled her eyes at him once again bringing up the night they shared.

           “Disappeared once the alcohol was out of my system.” She bit back with a scoff. Yoongi let out a chuckle as he shook his head.

           “So you’re dating Jung Hoseok now? Hanging out with his friends?” Jimin asked as he took his regular seat beside her in their shared class. She was surprised he even said anything to her, let alone such a ridiculous question. Jung Hoseok does not do relationships.

           “They’ve become my self-proclaimed protection squad.” She mumbled, going back to catching up on the work she missed the previous day. Jimin couldn’t help but let out a laugh when he realized what she said.

           “Why do you need protecting?” She put her pen down and turned her body to face him.

           “Because I was attacked yesterday, Jimin. My clothes were cut and torn in front of a group of people. And you, Tae and Jungkook have decided I’m the new spawn of Satan. Sue me for make new friends when the people who were supposed to stick by me, left me.” Jimin stared her, words not forming as he tried so hard to say something, anything. “So what I missed one movie night to go out. So what I slept with Hoseok. You guys are acting like I murdered someone.” She closed her textbook and gathered all her books, moving to an empty desk at the back of the room, unable to sit beside Jimin.

           “Miss me, princess?” Hoseok was waiting outside of her class, ready to take her out somewhere fun. He threw his arm around her and she couldn’t help but laugh at how excited he seemed.

           “Believe it or not, I did kind of miss you.” She smiled. He placed his hands over his chest and let out a loud groan as if he was in pain.

           “Just take my heart, princess.” He joked, holding his hands out towards her. She laughed, slapping his hands away and calling him a dork. “You wound me, princess.” He said softly, wrapping his arm around her again as they went to meet up with the others in the parking lot.

           Surprisingly, he took her to the fair that had just arrived in town. As per usual, he had his arm draped across her shoulders as they walked, the others following closely behind, cracking jokes, and telling stories that even made her laugh.

           They spent the afternoon and evening wandering the fair, going on rides, and playing some games. She always had a statistic ready for the probability at winning any of the games they tried. “Have some faith in me, princess.” Hoseok would whine each time, and she couldn’t help but find him absolutely adorable. She watched from the sidelines as him and a couple of his buddies were playing one of the many games. Yoongi threw his arm across her shoulders, taking her by surprise.

           “Be careful with those heart eyes of yours.” He joked, his famous gummy smile on display for her to bask in. “Though, he does seem to have heart eyes for you too.” She rolled her eyes, removing his arm from her shoulders.

           “Don’t be ridiculous Yoongi. Hoseok and I are just friends.” Before he could say anything, Hoseok cheered as the underpaid teenager handed him the giant stuffed bear from behind the counter.

           “I wouldn’t be so sure.” He said quickly, pointing towards a beaming Hoseok who was walking towards them, holding the stuffed bear for her to take.

           “For the princess.” She smiled up at Hoseok, taking the bear in her arms with a small laugh.

           “Is this why you were trying so hard to win the games?” She giggled as the group began walking again.

           “It’s not a full fair experience unless you get a giant prize!” He exclaimed loudly, catching the attention of other fair goers, and she couldn’t help but laugh at him. “Let’s get some cotton candy.” Her eyes lit up at the idea, and the group followed the two of them to one of the many concessions to get cotton candy. He took the bear in his arms again as she excitedly took the cotton candy. And he just had to take a picture. She didn’t even notice as he held up his phone and snapped a bunch of pictures of her happily eating her cotton candy. She was glowing with an angelic smile on her face, and he felt that feeling again. His heart was pounding as he stared at her, lowering his phone so he could take in every part of this moment. He didn’t notice as Yoongi snapped a picture of the two of them, him with a lovesick look on his face as he stared at her. She really was driving him insane.

           “Would you go on the Ferris Wheel with me?” She pouted. The sun set completely, and the lights from all the rides lit up the night. It was tradition for her and her friends to ride the Ferris Wheel at least once during the night when the fair was in town. Hoseok wasn’t one for cliches, but when he looked down at her puppy dog eyes and her bottom lip sticking out in the cutest pout he’d ever seen, he couldn’t say no.

           The others stayed at the bottom, guarding the giant bear Hoseok won for his princess, while the two sat in one of the carriages, waving to their friends. Yoongi couldn’t help but chuckle at his best friend being absolutely whipped for this girl.

           “I love what the fair looks like at night.” She said as they slowly reached the top. “It’s beautiful.” She was looking out, watching as couples held hands and walked around, a few people with giant stuffed bears much like the one Hoseok won her. She was entranced by all the lights and sounds, smiling as they completely reached the top. He didn’t even bother looking around at all the beautiful sights around him, because he knew none of them could top the beautiful sight that is the girl sitting next to him.

           “Breathtaking.” He said in a whisper, looking directly at her. He didn’t even look away when she turned her head a looked at him. And just like every cliché Ferris Wheel scene in every cliché romance movie, he kissed her. He cupped her face and kissed her with a feeling he was unfamiliar with; passion. She was shocked at first, completely taken aback at the sudden contact, but it didn’t take her long to kiss back. They didn’t pull away until the ride was coming to a stop and they could hear their friends cheering. Her eyes immediately drifted to Yoongi, who just smirked at her with a knowing look in his eyes.

           Everyone went their separate ways soon after, Hoseok telling them he was going to take Y/N home. The two decided to walk, knowing the bear wouldn’t fit on his motorcycle. As he had twice already, he shrugged his jacket off and wrapped it around her, leaving one arm across her shoulders and pulling her close. She held the bear in one arm while wrapping the other around his torso, a lovesick smile on her face as they slowly walked towards her apartment. “Thank you.” She whispered.

           “What for?” She looked up at him, her smile widening when she met his eyes.

           “Everything. I had a lot of fun tonight.” She almost forgot that her three best friends hated her. She almost forgot that Hoseok and his friends were fuckboys. She almost forgot she wasn’t supposed to fall in love with Hoseok. Almost.

           “Me too.” He whispered back. He almost forgot he was supposed to be a bad boy. He almost forgot they were nothing more than friends. He almost forgot that his other friends were with them the whole night. He almost forgot this wasn’t a date. He almost forgot that he doesn’t do relationships. He almost forgot that he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with Y/N. Almost.

           He didn’t walk her upstairs, using the excuse that he had to go get his motorcycle from the fair and wished her a goodnight. It’s like he wasn’t thinking when he leaned in for the second time that night and gave her a kiss goodnight before walking away. He was so out of it, he forgot to take his jacket.

           Once again, Hoseok draped his arm across her shoulders when he saw her the following day at school, his friends following behind him, this time greeting her like they’ve been friends for years. This time, she didn’t hide her face when people started staring. She walked with her head held high as she listened to the others talk, laughing at some of the stories they would tell.

           Everyone started splitting off, either going to class or skipping school altogether. Hoseok walked her all the way to her class. “When does your last class end?” He asked, dropping his arm, and shoving his hands in his pockets.

           “4.” She answered simply. “Why?”

           “Come party with us tonight.” It was Friday. Partying wasn’t her thing. She tried it once, got what she went for, but things were different now. She wasn’t sure she could handle watching Hoseok flirt with other girls, eventually taking one home. And she definitely couldn’t sleep with him if he wanted to take her home, not when she was falling in love with him. Sleeping with him with no feelings involved is one thing. She could walk away unscathed and move on with her life. But now there’s feelings involved, at least on her end, and she knew she would get attached.

           “That was a one-time thing, Hoseok.” She giggled, turning to go to class when he grabbed her wrist, spinning her around to face him again.

           “Please. I really want you there.” He pouted at her much like she did then night before, asking him to ride the Ferris Wheel. Her stomach was doing somersaults at the fact that he wanted her there. He wasn’t asking as a formality because she’s been hanging out with them the last couple days. He wanted her there, and so she found herself agreeing.

           Hoseok picked her up after her last class, driving them back to her apartment so she could change. He chuckled when he saw his jacket hung up with hers at the front door, as if he lived here too. His heart swelled at the idea of coming home to her. So much has changed in such a short amount of time, and he wasn’t sure what to make of it. But he was happy, so he wasn’t going to fight it. He wanted to be around her as much as he could, so that’s what he was going to do. He was going to invite her out with him and his friends and show her what it’s like to get her nose out of her books.

           The two of them met the rest of his friends at the same club they met at all those weeks ago. He paid for her drinks and they stayed at the table while the rest of them went off to find a companion for the night. She wanted to say something, to ask him if he was going to stay with her the whole night, or eventually leave to find a girl to take home. He couldn’t even look at another girl when she was sat beside him, sipping her drink with an innocence in her eyes he’s surprised he didn’t see the first time.  

           At some point she left for the bathroom, and Hoseok just sat in the booth, staring in the direction of the bathrooms, waiting for her to come back and keep him company. His face lit up when he saw her emerge, but then it fell when another guy approached her. She smiled up at him, laughing at something he was whispering in her ear. She didn’t seem to be in a rush to return to his side, and that fact made his blood boil and his fists clench. It was then that he knew he didn’t want to just be her friend. Jung Hoseok didn’t do relationships, but Y/N wasn’t like the other girls he’s met.

           He stormed over to her, anger in his eyes, and she smiled at him. Without acknowledging the guy she was talking to; he slid his hand into hers and starting dragging her towards the exit. “We’re leaving.” He grumbled, and she didn’t bother to fight back.

           “I thought you wanted to party?” She asked when they were outside, trying to pull her hand away but he just tightened his grip.

           “I wanted to spend time with you.” He admitted, still not stopping.

           “Can you stop for a minute, please!” She pleaded, finally pulling her hand away from his. He turned to look at her, features softening when he saw the tears in her eyes. “What’s going on, Hoseok?”

           “I don’t know!” He yelled, throwing his hands up in the air before letting them fall to his sides. “All I know is that ever since that first night, you’ve been driving me crazy. I can’t stop thinking about you and I want to see you all the time.” She just started to laugh. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Jung Hoseok, school fuckboy and bad boy, had actually fallen for the biggest cliché, the good girl. “Why are you laughing?” She took a step closer to him and placed her hands on his cheeks.

           “Sounds to me like you caught feelings.” She said softly, slowly removing her hands and wrapping her arms around his neck. “And lucky for you, I have too.” He didn’t waste another second and closed the small space between them, kissing her with everything he had.

           “Falling in love doesn’t seem so bad if it’s you.” He whispered before pulling her in for another kiss.

           Jung Hoseok wasn’t one for cliches, but cliches don’t seem so bad when they involve her.

#bts imagine #bts au #jung hoseok imagine #jung hoseok au #jung hoseok x reader #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #kim seokjin #min yoongi

[nightshade-minho]

MOONSTORM [ iii ]

You know that feeling when you know you’ve made a terrible mistake?

Yes. That feeling.

It’s a feeling that never really goes away. You had to learn that the hard way.

Irrevocable actions, stupid mistakes. You were heart-wrenchingly familiar with all of it.

To err was human apparently. You...weren’t human, though.

It seems like being superhuman was insignificant, after all. At the end of the day, nothing mattered. None of your powers did.

Despite it all, you still lost him.

warnings: depressing shit (it gets better though dw) mentions of death, violence, sexual content, future smut

wc: 2.8k

moonstorm masterlist

It felt like the world had lost all color.

It had happened so many months ago, and yet it still felt like it happened just yesterday. The memories of stumbling out of his lair, covered in his blood and your tears, still fresh in your mind.

The image of his face, betrayed and yet so calm as he uttered those last words to you...it haunted you constantly.

You found yourself looking at the moon every night, dreaming about what could have been. The nightmares endlessly plagued your sleep as well, causing you to fear even your own bed.

No...even after Hyunjin's effects on you wore off, your own brain took on the responsibility of torturing you by conjuring up more heartbreaking dreams. Dreams which made you long for something you knew you’d lost forever- never to be yours again.

You never truly realized how much you’d gotten used to having him around. Life was so glaringly empty and meaningless without him. It was a complicated relationship…and yet it still left a giant hole in you. An all-encompassing despair that threatened to swallow you up.

With him gone, it just didn’t feel right to be a superhero anymore. How could you be the strong role model for everyone in the city to rely on when you knew just how weak you’d become? Even when the newspapers were covered with your heroics, even as the mayor addressed the city and expressed his desire to give you a medal for stopping yet another supervillain from roaming the streets- you stubbornly refused to don that costume ever again.

You stayed hidden through it all. You just couldn’t bring yourself to go out in public anymore. Your vigilante costume lay forgotten in the back of your closet- crumpled and sad.

It just...felt wrong. At the moment you felt nothing but pathetic. You didn’t have time to waste saving a snotty kitten stuck on a tree or stop a petty criminal from robbing a bank- all you were fit to do was eat ice cream straight from the can, and watch a soulless movie. The same routine, day in and day out. You hadn’t left your apartment in nearly a month, not even to buy groceries. Every second was spent wrapped up in blankets, pondering what you’d done.

Was that selfish of you? Probably. You were discovering new flaws by the second.

Sighing, you sat up a little, your ass almost numb from how long you’d spent lying down. Glancing up, you saw your father’s portrait looking down at you. You swallowed and slowly stood up from your bed, groaning to yourself. Why did he suddenly seem so disappointed?

Maybe a little bit of fresh air is what you needed, considering you were starting to believe the paintings were changing expressions. After all, you had work to do anyway- might as well take advantage of the nearby café’s free WiFi.

***

Here at last.

You sat down in the corner of the café, so tired you could barely move a muscle. But you had to get a move on with your life- the recovery should have happened by now.

And yet here you were, months later. Nothing seemed to be able to fill the hole he left behind, and even now you wished you could go back home as soon as possible.

Had it...had it been a mistake?

Of course it had. Your misery was evidence, and you weren’t sure how much longer you could convince yourself that you’d done it for the good of the city.

The truth was... Hwang Hyunjin scared you.

He made you feel things, made you want to be someone else entirely. Every ounce of rigidity and austerity you’d imposed in yourself disappeared every time you were with him. He made you want to give everything up- give up all the responsibilities and burdens you carried on your shoulders to be with him. To be like him- free.

It wasn’t Hyunjin who was a threat to the city. No, not directly.

It was you- or rather the lack of you.

This city needed you to survive, and if Hyunjin managed to change you...it surely wouldn’t have lasted long without your help. Hyunjin had never really been the city’s biggest threat- there were far worse villains and it was them who you really fought against.

He was more of just an inconvenience, someone you had to deal with from time to time. And then he’d struck that deal- after which the nature of your relationship had turned into something entirely different.

Every time he acted up, it was usually just a ploy to get your attention. And attention was exactly what he got. You’d reinforced his behavior like an idiot.

You told yourself it was a chore, but it wasn’t all that convincing. You’d loved spending those nights in his bed, loved the way he was an expert at making you come undone with his body and his words.

It really had seemed like a good idea at the time. The right thing to do. However, it was quickly starting to seem like anything but.

You sighed as your mind tried its best not to travel back all those months. Dipping a teabag into the liquid, you mindlessly observed the customers in the cafe. Many of them were young, teenagers who were heading out before class.

You sighed as you recalled your own high school days, the times Hyunjin and you had hung out in a cafe much like this one.

“You don’t have to help me with this project, you know.”

“Ah, shush. It’s our final year. I’m not going to leave you alone.” He smiled as he flipped through his books, taking a sip of his coffee occasionally.

“You act like you’re not sticking to me like white on rice the rest of the year.” You roll your eyes, chuckling to yourself.

“Don’t get snippy with me, missy.” He smirked, still thumbing the pages nonchalantly. “Or I’ll have to punish you.”

“You- I- what?” You wouldn’t admit it, but the thought caused a fluttering sensation in more than one place. It was a little bit of a shock, considering the two of you had done nothing more than make out and flirt, until now.

“Chill. I’m kidding.” He shook his head, looking up at you. “Unless…” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“Stop it! I’m supposed to be working right now.” You whined, swatting him with a rolled up paper.

“I don’t care.” He tapped his fingers on the table. “Hm...do you know what I’m thinking of right now, Y/n?”

“W-what?”

“Thinking about how easy it would be to slip my fingers under your skirt and play with that pretty pussy of yours. I’m pretty sure it’s soaked your underwear through by now.”

Fuck.

Your cheeks flushed as you stared at your plate. You couldn’t find it in yourself to respond properly- his mere words had already turned you to a mess.

“S-shut up.” You mumbled, reading out formulas aloud as you tried to divert your attention from it. Hyunjin let out a teasing chuckle at your lame attempt to change the topic, shaking his head as he stared at his book again, unaware you were looking over your own at him, pressing your thighs together subtly.

God, he was so...so annoying.

You snapped out of it, sighing as you looked around at the much less crowded cafe. Had it always looked so dull? So lifeless?

The thought of him was hurtful- it felt like a dull knife, screwing itself into you. Reminding you what you’d done.

You’d killed the love of your life.

And now? There was no way to bring him back.

***

“Murder is never something a superhero should resort to. A good hero always stays true to themselves- they only kill if it’s absolutely necessary.”

A cough.

“But of course...villains are exempt from that rule. Killing one villain’s life could save countless others.”

Hm. You weren’t exactly sure if your father was right. Although you were just a child, you still had some knowledge of morality.

Was he? Killing just...seemed wrong. You didn’t know if you could bring yourself to do it, no matter how evil the person was.

“Surely there are other ways to neutralize someone evil, Father?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, before shaking his head coldly. “Untrue.”

“The truth is, some lives are expendable, my dear Y/n…” Another cough, before he cleared his throat and fixed his gaze back on you.

“You must always look for the greater good.”

***

You still remembered the day you first met Hyunjin.

He was 13, and you were just a little younger. Your families were good comrades and allies, so your eventual meeting had already been planned.

The two of you were in the living room with everyone else as they talked to each other, mingling and chattering like adults usually did. Hyunjin and you made an unanimous decision to sneak out to the rooftop, and get to know each other better.

“So...our parents are allies now, hm? This means we’re going to see each other a lot more.”

“Of course we are! We’re both prodigies, like my dad and your mom...we inherited their powers, so they’re obviously going to want to cultivate those.”

“You speak pretty fancy for a 12 year old.”

“Hey, so do you! Besides, we’re gifted, aren’t we?”

“Hm.” He sighed, swinging his legs and inhaling. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke up again.

“Do you actually like having these powers?”

“Oh? Well, yeah...I do...my father tells me stories of his days as a superhero. I want to help people, just like him.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d much rather live a normal life. Get a normal job, find someone to love, and have a normal marriage in a normal town.”

You pressed your lips together. “To each their own, I guess. Personally, I just want to get rid of all the evil in the world and make my father proud.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“Evil…” He tapped his chin. “How does one even know the difference between good and evil?”

You raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? I’m pretty sure it would be obvious in every situation.”

“I disagree. The distinction is blurry. No one knows for sure, and definitely not at first glance.” He sighed. “I would know.”

You brought your knees to your chest as you observed the city below. “Well, I guess you’re right…” you paused, your heart feeling a little heavy for some reason.

“Do you know?”

“The line between good and evil is thin, Y/n. I can’t say I know for sure. But do you know what will always help you remember?”

“What?”

“Your heart.” He said softly, glancing at you and offering you a small smile.

“Just do whatever feels right...trust yourself.”

***

You sighed and shut your laptop.

Home. You needed to go home, cause your heart ached too much. You definitely weren’t ready to go back to work yet. You hadn’t done anything productive today really, just drink coffee and reflect on your actions. Regretting....regretting it all.

It’d been wrong. The wrong choice, the wrong decision.

You knew that, now. There could have been another way. You shouldn’t have rushed into it like that...how could you?

You felt a surge of hatred towards yourself engulf you. It was all your fault, this pain you were feeling. You didn’t have anyone to direct this immense anger towards except yourself. You realized this little fact in horror, your heart clenching as you wished things could have been different.

Finishing off your coffee, you placed a few bills on the table as you left the café, heading home. Ready to burrow under the blankets again, wallow in your self pity and pain. There wasn’t much else to do except succumb to acceptance.

You made your way down the street, humming the saddest song you knew under your breath.

All of a sudden, you felt eyes burning into your back. Your own eyes widening slightly, you turned around quickly-

But there was no one there.

Weird. Sighing, you decided to go back to going over your plans for tonight in your mind.

Maybe watch a movie in hopes of triggering some sort of emotion in you...or maybe take a bath, light some candles and listen to depressing music- shit.

It happened again. Someone was following you- you could feel it. Uncomfortable, your breathing slowly started getting heavier as you tried to formulate some kind of plan in your head-

The next thing that happened was so sudden you barely registered it for a second.

Your hand was gripped, so tightly you felt it would bruise. Aggressive, shocking and swift as lightning- it took several seconds before you realized someone was trying to kidnap you.

“Stop! Leave me alone!”

Struggling against the person holding you, you caught a glimpse of the masked man and decided to scream, hoping to gain some attention from somebody, anybody. There was no way this was happening, not right now. Your day had already been bad enough, why was the universe so intent on rubbing salt in your wounds?!

The urge to fight had never been stronger. Yet there was no strength left in your body. You couldn’t fight back against this man- he was taller than you and somehow even matched you in strength. Unless you exposed your powers, there was no way you would get yourself out of this predicament. Somehow you managed to smack him with your arm weakly, making him hiss.

“Let me go, please!”

The coffee cup fell out of your hand, brown liquid spilling all over the ground as you were pulled into the dark alley so quickly, no one would notice. Your eyes darted about in panic, trying to work out a possible escape route when the masked man caged you in, his arms on either side of you.

A horrible sense of déjà vu enveloped you. It’s all you can do to not scream, trying to keep yourself calm so that you could escape.

It’s ok, breathe in...and concentrate.

The heat within you started to crackle, your palms beginning to burn up gradually.

Your eyes blinked as you decided to try and take a good look at the person holding you. Their head was covered with a black mask, their finger held over their mouth as they ran their eyes over your distressed expression.

Inhale. Exhale.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hissed, staying still and pretending to give up the struggle. “Unhand me now, or you’ll regret it, trust me-“

“Shh! Y/n, please…” He shushed you, his voice shaky.

You stopped in your tracks.

Huh?

That voice…

“I’ll explain... but first we need to get out of here, fuck-” He looked from side to side quickly, scanning his surroundings.

Shit. Why does that voice sound so familiar?

“Who- who are you?!” You managed to get out, the heat fading away as deep, panicked confusion took over you instead.

There was a small sigh as your assailant stood up a little straighter, groaning. And then, his fingers deftly pulled the mask off, clutching it in his hands tightly.

Golden locks spilled out, a handsome visage coming into view. Plump lips and beautiful eyes, looking oh so familiar.

No.

No.

It couldn’t be. This wasn’t happening. What the fuck, what the fuck, what the actual fuck was going on?

It’s him.

But it can’t be.

How? It’s not possible-

You’re definitely losing your mind.

The man’s breathing got quicker as he watched your expression morph from fear into one of pure, electric shock.

“I know you’re shocked, Y/n, but please listen to-“

Your chest started heaving, quickly rising and falling as your heart pounded against your rib cage.

This...could not be happening. What was this? Was this a nightmare? Yet another sick, twisted dream? He couldn’t be standing right in front of you...it was impossible. No. No no no no no no no.

It was all too overwhelming, and your brain and body seemed to agree on that. Your mind swam, your thoughts all over the place as you felt yourself sway on your feet.

“This- I-“ You stumbled over your words, tears slipping past quickly as you tried to form words to express what you felt.

Pain. Searing pain, taking over, spreading from head to toe.

Your breathing slowed as the world suddenly went black, Hyunjin’s shouts in the background fading away...until there was nothing but silence.

Pure, unadulterated silence.

#hyunjin smut #hyunjin angst #skz smut #skz angst #hwang hyunjin smut #stray kids smut #stray kids angst #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagines

[wincore]

summertime | wong kunhang

pairing: hendery x reader, side xiaocas

words: 4.5k

genre: childhood friends to lovers!au, first love, hs reunion, practically idiots to lovers, fluff, angst

warnings: none

a/n: warmup-ish fic. i don’t know why it’s so long either. loosely inspired by this. also hendery sweetest boy so i had to write something cute for him !! 

When Wong Kunhang had hit you in the face with a volleyball coated in sand, you knew it was one way or the other with him. You were either going to fall in love with him or hate him for the rest of your life, and nothing in between.

It’s a little more complicated than that, you realize at twenty-one.

The neat asphalt is now a cool grey, not as pretty and dark as it used to be when you were in eighth grade but still clean and maintained. The stone walls on either side are certainly better off, marking the houses of the beachside town your school trip led to every goddamn year. Not that you were complaining, shining blue seawater has always been a favourite sight of yours. Kunhang was just the smiling bonus you held on to.

The road slants uphill till you can see the sunlight shimmering against the vast blue of the ocean across the horizon, dotted with the tops of palm trees and pastel buildings. It’s mostly at this point you realize that Kunhang’s been talking the entire way, and that you should nod along to add to the pretence, that you’re listening to him and not the loud drumming of your heart against your chest.

But Kunhang’s not here today. You don’t even know if he’s coming.

“Hey, (name), are you listening?” Yukhei asks, steadying the surfboard in his arms when you stop. “Are you thinking about Kunhang?”

The tone of his voice is teasing, but it’s as if you’re still thirteen, trying to come to terms with the first crush you’d ever had. Your cheeks grow hot and you scoff at him, snatching your tote bag from his arms and striding faster down the road. Kunhang can come, not come—you don’t care. For all you know, he’s enjoying his new life out there, as curious and fun-seeking as he is—was. He might even have found himself a lover, you realize as the bitter taste grows on your tongue.

Kunhang has always been special. Summer after summer, he’s only grown better at that.

Your parallel lines started growing distant somewhere in the first year of college. The daily facetime calls to describe the baffling wonders of adulthood slowly turned into weekly phone calls about the strain of assignments and projects and eventually, into faded texts you still look over on your phone. He’s just a friend, so you shouldn’t be expecting any more, right? It’s only ordinary that friends will grow apart. The city downpour that was slowly erasing his voice made you long for summer even more.

When you were twelve, Wong Kunhang had hit you in the face with a volleyball at the beach you always visited as part of the school trip. Somehow, with his weird sense and cutting enthusiasm, he’d offered the corner of his shirt to rub the sand off your face instead of a towel he’d find lying just about anywhere at the beach. (“The towels were definitely covered in sand! There’s no way beach towels aren’t sandy.”) And somehow, with your poor foresight, you’d felt an audible thump in your ribcage, the kind that only comes once. It was fitting, almost.

When you were thirteen, the thump grew into an entire orchestra. They settled in before you knew, and you realized you could neither accept them nor reject them. You suddenly couldn’t comprehend sitting beside him in class without nervously bouncing your legs, or laughing a little less enthusiastically at his jokes. You felt the turbulence of your pulse every time your hands touched as he passed you an eraser or a pen, or when his face split into a grin at you struggling to unscrew the bottle cap—it’s almost as if it were the end of the world whenever he breathed near you. You were painfully honest, so easy to see through and even Yukhei caught on to the fact that you had a thing for the weird yet lovable kid and his ridiculous smile. Kunhang, however, was probably in need of prescription glasses. 

When you were sixteen, Kunhang learned how to play the drums and if anything, it made the heat bloom in your cheeks even faster. When you saw him play at the summer festival before the school trip, you wanted to stay there forever, just watch him do what he loves. Focused in the way he breathed and looking incredibly handsome for a stupid crush, you’d wanted to tell him then and there. 

You’d made up your mind, or at least part of it, that this summer trip wouldn’t go to waste. Even the short-lived love of a young boy, you wanted to see it reflected in his eyes. That summer, just like every school trip, Kunhang had passed a volleyball to you in the outline of an inside joke that doesn’t get old; and you’d swallowed harshly, choking suddenly only for him to rub his hand over your back in the same gentle manner he did most everything.

When you think about it, you can’t seem to get over how much of an idiot you were back then. Kunhang was almost an even bigger one.

“I wish I’d get better at the drums quickly,” he’d said beside the campfire, tapping his foot impatiently. 

It was only the two of you immersed in the night and if that weren’t reason enough for your incoherent thoughts, his knee was touching yours in a way oblivious to him—and the look of complete serenity over his face made you rethink your confession.

“You’re already good enough,” you huffed in disbelief.

“I can play two, er, three songs!” His voice was enthusiastic in the beginning but it hummed out to a mellow ending. He’d added in a determined whisper, “I need to practise so I don’t embarrass myself.”

Before you knew it, you’d let out a short laugh. Wong Kunhang, afraid of embarrassment? It was almost unheard of. You’d never met anyone so open before, so happy to share even the rougher, less tangible parts of himself.

Kunhang only gazed at you wordlessly, and when you met his eyes, the butterflies were let out of the cage in your stomach again. You wanted to lean in a little, kiss him right then and there, the image itself slowly curling around your head in haunting wisps as if something taboo. It didn’t make sense to you, to feel so immensely submerged in adolescent feelings—yet be comforted by his presence oh so easily. You know you weren’t the only one harbouring clandestine feelings. You’d seen them confess, you’d seen the few perfumed letters in his locker asking to meet after class.

Kunhang had turned down all of them. It didn't take solving quantum physics to realize he’d probably do the same to you. And you’d both end up losing a friend.

You’d swallowed whatever garbled confession that might have come out of your mouth that night. It’s better off this way, you told yourself, and you believed it for quite a while.

You wanted to hate him when you turned eighteen. You were going away to start a new life all on your own, and yet there he was, pretending that everything was going to be the same. Did he have to treat you so special? It wasn’t real, after all, the full wave of attention he gifted you, the adoring laughter and the occasional awkward head pats. 

(And yet, every time you close your eyes, you wish it was.)

You wonder if Kunhang knows summer the way you do—sand against bare feet, having ice cream under a beach umbrella and most importantly, the scent of young love coating you in a thick layer of nervousness. Knowing him, he probably didn’t even notice the way you struggled to keep your wide grin secret every time he offered you the coconut flavoured ice cream. You wonder if he’s forgotten summer by now.

Yukhei catches up to you just before the narrow stone steps that end in the beach sand. You stop for a second, careful of the rock you always trip over (and the memory of Kunhang there to steady you with a laugh, unless he was the one who tripped face first into the sand) as you breathe out heavily. This is your high school reunion. You don’t have to think of your awkward  teenage love right now. You can enjoy the coconut flavoured ice cream all by yourself.

You step onto the sand, taking a sharp breath at the full strength of heat that hits you. The towels and umbrellas are spread across the area, candy blue stripes everywhere your eyes visit, till your name is called by a frantic Dejun trying to get your attention. Summer feels hotter than any year you’ve visited and even sunscreen can’t protect you from the inevitably dazzling view you face.

After all this time, you thought he’d go away but the waves come crashing after all.

Kunhang has grown into a messy sort of handsome. His hair is longer since the last time you saw him, unkempt in the way it falls over his forehead yet still strangely neat. Even under the shade of the giant umbrella, there’s an unmistakable calm over his features—the look he often had on his face and no one would be able to tell what he was thinking, his own respite in broad daylight. The contrast between him and the blue around is crisp, like a sunlit field of pink tulips floating atop blue ocean water. It’s hardly been three years and he looks older, a bit more mature. 

Kunhang beams when he notices you, the effect of it almost crushing as you try not to acknowledge the tidal wave of pent-up emotions.

“(name)!” he grins wide, jogging up to you. “I didn’t know you were coming. You didn’t reply to any of my texts!”

They vanished. Your words vanished again. Fidgeting with your fingers, you abruptly clear your throat before you can respond.

“Yeah. I, uh, I changed my number.” You bite your tongue softly at the lie.

He frowns. “Oh. Well, give me your new one.”

“I- I- I forgot my phone. At the- the hotel.”

You feel yourself cringing at your voice. It’s so...so embarrassing, every rise and fall. Kunhang blinks a few times before shrugging.

“Ah. I’ll get it later then.”

You almost immediately excuse yourself and beeline to Dejun sitting by the cooler, trying hard to hold a coconut larger than his hands as he raises a suspicious eyebrow at you. Of course it’s natural you’d go straight to the guy you see everyday at university instead of visiting the boy of your unrequited affections. It’s completely normal. What’s the point of a reunion anyway?

What you don’t expect is to be sandwiched between Dejun and Kunhang, the latter enthusiastically summing up each and every point of his life at university, the lack of control over facial expressions still prominent and you try not to let your heartstrings pull too hard. Dejun hums in intervals beside you, sipping at the coconut water he so struggled to get as Kunhang skilfully ignores the growing tension. 

God, he really is an idiot. You feel like telling him you’ve been in love with him for eight years just so he’d shut up.

But after all this time, Kunhang has managed to remain himself. You smile. The sand in your hourglasses might not be flowing so differently after all. He’s still talking about most everything he finds fascinating through the smallest of details and you’re still willing to listen to the sound of his voice for hours. The scent of the ocean breeze that made you think of him, so you kept it safe—it’s overwhelming now.

Your vision is suddenly blocked by a pink paper cup, the spotless white ice cream in it already starting to melt. You turn your head to Kunhang trying hard not to make a face at you, biting onto the edge of an empty paper cup.

“You didn’t listen to anything I said, did you?” he asks with a click of tongue, after taking his cup in his hand. 

You can’t help your sheepish laugh. “I lost you when you started talking about the campus cats.”

Kunhang scratches the back of his head, smiling. “I couldn’t get a volleyball today. They increased the rent rates by ten!”

“What, you were planning to rent a volleyball just to hit me in the face with it?”

Kunhangs face breaks into a grin, positively glowing from his eyes to the line of his nose to his lips. Maybe you don’t hate this feeling so much. 

Dejun suddenly clears his throat beside you, springing up. “I’m- I’m going to go help Yukhei,” he declares, discarding his coconut somewhere over the sand.

“Help with what?” you ask, furrowing your brows.

Dejun coughs uncomfortably before shrugging and speeding off to Yukhei trying very hard to plant the wet surfboard in the sand. Somewhere in your mind, you already know the reason why he ran off. 

You turn to Kunhang with a worried look, but there’s no sign of realization over his face. You almost sigh but catch yourself in the moment. Is it pitiful? He probably can’t even imagine you that way, maybe that’s why he hasn’t caught on. 

Is it bad that you hate it? That you’re not satisfied with the friendly touches, the innocent smiles. You don’t want to keep it so pure after all—you want to run your hands through his hair, you want to twine your fingers through his, you want to feel the touch of a kiss with him.

Your gulp nervously once Kunhang’s features come into focus, still talking about something vague and nodding along to it at an uncertain rhythm. The sound of the waves come gently crashing, just as they do to the shore and the buzz of this place reminds you of all the time you spent here. What has been, what could have been.

“Kunhang,” you interrupt and he whips his head to you, eyes curious. You take a deep breath.

What value is there to words that you’re desperately trying to throw away?

“I- I’m going to go to the water,” you say, trying to cover up your nervousness. If it wasn’t any other summer trip, it’s not going to be today. It’s not going to be, at all.

If you can’t put it into words, will you be alone? You’re only chewing over your memories hoping they fade.

Kunhang springs up just as you stand, his sudden movement surprising you. 

“I…” He begins but shakes his head with a subdued smile. His voice comes out softer than you expect. “Yukhei’s that way, if you’re looking for him.”

You blink back your confusion. “Ah, um, thanks!”

The more you try to lie to him, the less you understand yourself. But if you stay any longer, you might just spill the archived secrets, the words you should have burned in the campfire that night. You can fall out of love. It’s easy, it’s easy, you tell yourself—then why couldn’t you have done it earlier? Can you even do it now?

“What are you doing here?!” Yukhei asks, furrowing his brows as he gets up from the sand. “Where’s Kunhang?”

“I- I don’t know! Why would I know everything about him?” you grumble, hugging yourself.

“You are so stupid,” he states in response.

“That’s- That’s not something you should be telling me!”

Yukhei grabs your shoulder, shaking you hurriedly. “You should go back to him! The beach is one of the top ten romantic places, come on.”

“What makes you think I still like him?!” you hiss, trying to get his hands off your shoulders.

Yukhei stops abruptly, tilting his head to greet Dejun, who makes you jump out of your skin. You move apart from Yukhei, facing him with a sigh.

Dejun tries hard not to pull a face, notifying that your other classmates are here, and it’s a lot more likely some of them are still heart-eyed for Yukhei. The two of them seem to share an inside joke as they laugh and you raise an eyebrow, not even bothering to decode the situation. 

The brunch idea was probably Dejun’s, considering how smoothly things run. The whole renting out half a bar idea was probably Yukhei’s, considering how much of a wild mess it is. The place is perfectly snug, warm and just enough for a former high school batch, right by the beach where the sand meets asphalt. The laughter and conversations overpower the low jazz undertones of the music playing through the speakers and you find yourself smiling when someone or the other reminds you of all the high school ventures you’d had under the teachers’ disapproving eyes.

“Remember when Yukhei stole the rabbit from our school garden?”

“That wasn’t even worse than when he accidentally fired the water hose at Mr. Liang!”

“Oh my god, you remember putting on makeup in between classes without getting caught?”

“Or trying to steal lunch from me, you big bully?”

Really, seeing old faces after so long and then the same faces hammered only a few hours later might just be another one of the ‘fun’ things you’ve been missing out on.

There’s Shuhui, Lunmei and Linlin—girls you didn’t get to talk much with during school, but you remember Shuhui’s face from middle school. There’s Yukhei’s friends, Shihao and Taishun, who you think you exchanged a whopping total of sixteen words with throughout high school. Yet now, with everyone gathered here, it feels like some sort of a haven of reminiscence, like you’d known each other all your life (which, to an extent, you did). It’s comfortable and warm, the blanket of old connections.

You take another sip of the punch. It’s not enough to get you drunk but it's enough to shift the gears in your ribs to begin the steam engine you can’t find the brakes on. Your face is hot, Kunhang finally not the reason behind it, and you sigh as you glance around the room slowly.

It would’ve been quieter if Yukhei somehow hadn’t started this chain of confessions. Dejun is still struggling to keep him seated, a warm blush over his face when he has to wrap his arm around Yukhei yet again while the others continue chanting “confess! confess!” to the next unlucky victim guilty of harbouring an unspoken teenage crush.

You shake your head at the whole scene, sighing once again as you lazily swirl the remnants of your drink in the glass. The night will be over soon, and you’ll go back to your own paths. For now, you can pretend it’s all just another summer adventure.

Yukhei clears his throat, everyone’s eyes turning to him instantly. “I’m sure there’s one more confession left!”

There’s a bunch of cheers and you feel your heartbeat quicken when Yukhei shoots you a knowing smile. Your eyes widen, your throat suddenly feeling dry and you turn your head to meet Kunhang’s eyes. He looks at you with no hint or clue about the reality and you look away before it fries your nerves out.

“You’re going to thank me after this, Kunhang,” Yukhei calls, a teasing lilt to his voice and the boy in question simply shakes his head, grinning in polite confusion. 

You look around in panic, from Yukhei to Kunhang and wonder if you should open your mouth. You take a breath before a roar of cheers interrupts you.

Shuhui stands up, rosy-cheeked and wobbling at the knees. You catch Yukhei blinking with furrowed eyebrows but nodding anyway, as if the decisive president in a heated debate. 

“Wong Kunhang!” she calls before coyly confessing. “I like you! I’ve liked you since eighth grade!” 

Is it the alcohol? Or the cruel realization that your mother was right when she said summer makes people fall in love? There’s another round of cheers and applause as you get up discreetly, sneaking out the door a few steps behind you. You don’t think you can stomach the sight of someone else’s arms around Kunhang, his loving attention drawn to them. 

The night air is cool, the bushes lining the sidewalk buzzing with cicadas as you step over onto the soft, warm sand. The campfire has been reduced to blazing embers, no one there to kindle it as the night progressed. You hug yourself as you walk, the calm over you strange, uncharacteristic. 

Even if it’s not you and him after all, you should have said something. You’re only a coward, slow and naive in a world too fast-paced, unable to face a reality that’s your own. You couldn’t even stay in that room a second longer. If only your chest didn’t waver so easily, your heartbeat didn't grow erratic.

You walk closer to the water, waves lapping quietly against the sand, a hush over them as if they do not know what to say to you. What do you say to someone on the verge of heartbreak? Consoling your friends at university taught you next to nothing, your own seeming beyond your help.

“(name)!”

You feel your breath hitch, hesitant in turning around. There’s a moment’s pause and when you don’t turn, Kunhang tugs at your wrist, pulling you to him.

It’s getting so that your heart can’t even flutter anymore.

Gentle and kind, and so willing to give, Kunhang could never really leave you alone, could he? He looks at you with wide eyes, almost like a puppy lost on the streets. His pale pink overshirt is hanging loosely over his shoulders, unbuttoned all the way over his white T-shirt, his hair tousled by the wind and words yet resting on his lips. You forget to breathe for a few seconds and when you inhale sharply, the onslaught of your feelings comes toppling over you.

“I hate this,” you choke on the words. “You should be in there.”

“They’re still celebrating. And drunk.” He shifts nervously.

“I hate you,” you say, not finding meaning in the words. “I hate you so much because of how stupid I was- how weak I was.”

Kunhang’s eyes shimmer with something unfamiliar, lips quivering before he steadies himself, drawing nearer.

“That’s not fair,” he whispers, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. 

You purse your lips. It isn't fair—who are you to blame him? He doesn’t deserve the vomit of emotions from your popped balloon of a heart. You bite your tongue before you can spit out the poison-infused words. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, voice hoarse and still angry, “I wish I told you earlier. How much I liked you. How much I wanted to be with you.”

Kunhang stays quiet, hand not ready to leave your wrist yet, the part where his thumb rests searing hot.

“I thought I could pretend I never liked you at all,” you say, biting your lip. “I thought that if I faked it then it would go away but Wong Kunhang, I- I’ve liked you for so long that I don’t know what it’s like if I don’t.”

Why are you crying? It’s like the emotions you’ve hoarded all these years have somehow found an opening to burst through, in a stream of colours that paint you in embarrassment. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks and nose, as you vigorously rub at your eyes so the tears don’t escape in so obvious a manner.

“I- I tried going on dates, I tried- I tried all those stupid blind dating apps, I tried to focus on my major and making new friends and- and still…”

Doesn’t the rain fall in times like these? Yet there’s only the hot blanket of summer, with its swaying sea wind and calling cicadas resting in the vibrant bushes.

“I didn’t want to force all of this on you. I’m so—”

It’s only fitting that the stupidest sequence of words would leave his lips.

“I thought you liked Yukhei,” he says quietly.

You pause, uncertain of what to do and breathe out in annoyance. “Kunhang, for the love of god, where did you even come up with that?”

His cheeks colour ever so slightly and he clears his throat. “I don’t kno- I just- I kept giving myself excuses too. I’m sorry.”

The wind makes his hair sway lightly by his eyes, the stars glowing cool blue in them. Whatever the ebb and flow of your feelings were, they’re crashing against the sand, violent and sorrowful at first till the moon tames them into something warmer.

And then it happens again. Kunhang smiles, shoulders relaxing. There’s a moment’s pause.

“I- I’m not good with this.”

When Kunhang presses his hand against your jaw and leans in a little, eyes waiting for confirmation, the drumming in your veins is so loud you can barely comprehend the movement of his actions. You shut your eyes almost instantly but Kunhang accidentally bumps your noses a little too hard. The two of your wince, your hand flying to your nose as a muffled cry of pain escapes your lips and he looks at you worriedly, his fingertips pressing against your cheek softly.

You choke back a laugh but it bubbles up anyway, his own following after an embarrassed pause. 

“I think- I think I was a little nervous,” he admits, looking down and then back up to you.

“We can...we can try that again,” you hum, biting back a smile.

Kunhang’s hair is in fact softer than you’d expected, and when you run your fingers through them, he smiles into the kiss, his hand at the small of your back pulling you closer. Nothing’s like you daydreamed of and yet everything is in place, the shared warmth growing with each passing second. 

It’s blissful for a few moments before you’re interrupted by a drunk Yukhei to “get it” and you jump apart from each other, flushed hot in the cheeks. Dejun apologizes for his boyfriend, waving at you guys to continue whatever the hell you were doing before tugging Yukhei along with him.

You clear your throat awkwardly before plopping down on the sand, face buried in your hands. Kunhang follows slowly, legs outstretched towards the ocean. You peek to see him smiling at the sky, leaning back on his hands and the look you love seeing on him.

“Kunhang?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t- I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Even if you didn’t like me back then.”

Kunhang turns his head to you, eyes earnest as they trail across your face.

“You don’t have to be brave.”

He reaches out to fix the hair from your eyes, a gentle touch to them as ever, but this time there’s a stronger meaning to it, almost as if he’d kiss you again right then. The two of you smile, twining your fingers somewhere along the night as he tells you to rest your head on his shoulder. The waves sing softly to accompany Kunhang’s chatter, the feeling almost unreal when you feel his pulse against your thumb. 

What has been, what could’ve been—they’re barely a breeze to what really is.

#wayv #hendery #wayv scenarios #hendery scenarios #nct scenarios #hendery fluff #hendery imagines #wayv imagines #nct imagines #wayv fluff #nct fluff #wong kunhang imagines #childhood friends to lovers!au #hendery x reader #yes im back with another cheesy as shit fic what are you going to do #moonwrites

[asthmark]

❝ walk you home ❞ l.dh

synopsis → “it’s just a suggestion but you could maybe put your lips on mine?”

request → “hi ive reading your works and honestly thank u for being a blog that doesn’t write smut. i feel like there are so few blogs like so. all your works make my heart feel fluffy and warm 😊 i was wondering if i could request a fluffy prompt kinda based off the nct dream song: walk you home with haechan? you have full creative freedom ❤️ thank u”

word count → 1.6k

you didn’t walk home often but when you did it always proved to be a peaceful and serene experience. 

you take pleasure in the sound of the pavement beneath your feet as your legs carry you home and your hands hold on tightly to the straps of your backpack. the calm breeze blows some of your hair around and the sun’s rays shine down on you delightfully. 

you decide it can’t get much better than this.

but, of course, you can’t have anything nice. 

you realize this when you feel a pair of hands grasp your shoulders firmly resulting in you effectively jumping out of your skin with a loud shriek.

the culprit, none other than lee donghyuck, laughs as he watches you place your hands on your knees, trying to steady your racing heart. 

“not funny, donghyuck!” you punch his arm to express your frustration. “you almost gave me a heart attack, for christ’s sake!”

he holds up his hands in defense. “okay, okay. i’m sorry. i was messing around, i thought it’d be funny.” 

“oh right because sneaking up on a girl walking home alone and making her think she’s going to be kidnapped is just hilarious.”

“i really didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, genuinely. “i came here for a reason, i swear.”

you raise your brows, expectantly.

“i was just thinking i could maybe walk you home?” 

you observe the way he tugs gently at the string of his hoodie, almost as if he were nervous. but why would he be nervous in front of you? you were just his best friend’s little sister. 

“you want to walk with me?” 

he nods in confirmation. 

you play with your shirt collar, not entirely sure what to say. “that’s fine, i guess.” 

with that, you continue on your route not even waiting for donghyuck who jogs to catch up to you. despite your houses being only a couple blocks away from each other, you and donghyuck had never walked anywhere together. at least, in your high school years. 

when you were all much younger, him and your older brother mark would almost always walk to the bus stop together. your mother had you tag along with them and your tiny figure would often be seen trailing behind them, trying your best to keep up. 

as you grew up, many things begun changing. most notably, the way you felt about donghyuck. before, all you had seen him as was mark’s obnoxious friend who pestered you relentlessly. but you had finally realized how cute and charming he truly was. you started to enjoy the way he teased you as long as it meant you had his attention. it wasn’t long before mark noticed your change in attitude and connected the dots. it was easy to say he was displeased. first of all, having you follow donghyuck all the time like a shadow proved to be very irritating. second of all, his best friend and his little sister together was something he didn’t want to even think about. 

when he commented about your strange behavior to donghyuck, the boy had only said he didn’t mind it. in fact, he seemed to enjoy your little antics.  

mark realized had no other choice but to take matters into his own hands. so, he sat you down one evening to have a chat with you and he certainly had no problem lying straight to your face.

“donghyuck hates you,” he had said. 

you had stopped stroking your dolls hair to stare at him with eyes as big as saucers. “w-what?” 

“yeah. he told me. he thinks you’re super annoying.” 

and just like that, your little heart had been broken. you remember crying for hours that day and begging your mom to drive you to school so you wouldn’t have to face donghyuck in the mornings. mark even suggested that you avoid him at school too so that he wouldn’t find you anymore unpleasant than he already did. you obeyed and soon enough your trio had broken up.

ever since then, you had stayed in your own lane away from lee donghyuck who, according to your older brother, could not stand you. 

“so... what’s up with you? i feel like it’s been so long since we caught up.” 

you sigh, kicking at a pebble on the sidewalk. “i’m pretty okay.” 

he waits, expecting you to add on. he clears his throat awkwardly when he realizes you’re not going to. you had been so talkative during your childhood, what happened? “oh, that’s good.” 

for the sake of clearing the tension, you force yourself to ask him how he’s doing. “what about you?” 

his face brightens up. “i’m doing good! well, grade-wise no. actually, maybe? i have straight c’s which is technically passing but not super good, you know? but other than, i‘m not bad. i finally tried out for a basketball team. remember how when we were younger i always wanted to play but they told me i was too short?” 

“i remember a lot of things from when we were younger,” you mumble, bitterly. 

he continues, dismissing your comment. “yeah well, i finally grew! i’m actually three inches taller than the average male. isn’t that crazy?” 

you’re not entirely sure how to respond so that you just nod and try to give him the most sincere smile you can muster. “good for you.” 

“hey, didn’t you want to take art classes when we were kids? but your parents made you do ballet instead?” 

you hesitate as the memory registers in your brain. “yeah. i did, actually.” 

donghyuck chuckles. “you were so mad. and then you ended up not even taking it. i’m pretty sure it was because you threw a huge tantrum outside your house.” 

you titter at the embarrassing memory. “i totally forgot about that. you must have a crazy good memory.” 

he shrugs. “kind of. but i think my favorite one has to be when you tried sneaking out of your bedroom window but you fell and ended up with a fractured ankle.” 

your eyes dart to him. “oh my god, how do you know that? did mark tell you? because i swear if he did i’m gonna—”

“it wasn’t him.” 

“then who was it?” 

he suddenly becomes shy. “i, um, heard  you telling your friends about it.” 

“you were eavesdropping?” 

he fiddles with his earring, nervously. “i guess. but i swear it wasn’t to be creepy—”

“sounds pretty creepy to me, donghyuck.” 

he sighs in defeat. “i just wanted to hear your voice.”  

you stumble over nothing. “i’m sorry, what?” 

“you’re never around me anymore,” he says, sounding hurt. “i know you’re avoiding me. and i don’t know why. but i still try to be close to you without upsetting you. i try to meet your eyes when you pass by in the hallway, i try to go by your house as much as i can so i can catch a glimpse of you. but it never works.”  

ever since mark had told you how donghyuck felt about you, you swore to yourself you would stop caring about him. although, at this moment, you can’t help but feel slightly guilty. you try to come to your senses.  

“i thought i was annoying,” you mumble. 

he squints his eyes. “what? who said that?” 

you stop dead in your tracks. “you’re kidding right? you did! you said i was annoying and that you hated me.” 

he stares off into the distance, trying to concentrate. “i really don’t remember saying that to you.” 

“you didn’t. you told mark. mark told me. i never forgot it.” 

“okay, i definitely didn’t say anything like that to mark. the only thing i remember telling him was—“ he stops, abruptly. 

you press further. “what did you tell him, donghyuck?” 

“that i had a crush on you.” 

it takes you a moment to process the words that come out of his mouth. “are you messing with me?” 

he scowls. “no! it took a lot of guts, i remember being so nervous to tell him. i thought he would tell you for me but i guess he said the complete opposite.”  

strangely enough, you believe him. you decide to confess too. “well... i had a crush on you too.” 

now it’s his turn to be stunned into silence. “seriously?” 

“yes! i thought it was so obvious.”  

“i would have never known.” he runs a hand through his hair. “just imagine what would have happened if mark had told either of us how the other felt. why do you think he lied about all that stuff, anyway?”  

“knowing him, he couldn’t stand the thought of his little sister and best friend liking each other so he tried to keep us apart by lying and hoping we’d just forget about each other or something. what an idiot.” 

“jokes on him if he thinks i would forget you. we might’ve been like 12 but i was ready to commit.”

you chuckle. “and how about now? still willing to?” 

he smiles, pearly whites on display. “always.”

##bonus: 

you stop at the front steps of your house, turning to donghyuck and grinning from ear to ear. “well, thanks for walking with me. i’m glad we finally got things sorted out.” 

he nods. “i’ve missed you.” 

you bite your lip. “i’ve missed you, too.”

he ruffles your hair. “you’re still super adorable, by the way.” 

“and you’re still super—“ you run your fingers over the smooth skin of his cheeks before squeezing them. “annoying.”  

he pouts. “that was mean.” 

you place your hands on his shoulders. “sorry, cutie. i couldn’t help it.” 

“make it up to me?” 

“and how would i do that?” 

“it’s just a suggestion but you could maybe put your lips on mine?”

you smile, more than happy to follow through with his instructions. as you lean in, you feel your inner little girl get the best of you. your heart speeds up and you hold your clammy hands together tightly behind his head.

“what is going on here?!” 

you both jump back from each other to face mark standing in the doorway of your house. he wastes no time dashing down the stairs, coming straight for the brunette beside you.

“lee donghyuck, i’m going to strangle you!”

at hearing the pure anger in mark’s voice, donghyuck’s face drops. he presses a quick kiss to your lips. you don’t even have time to feel any form of surprise because before you can even register what was happening, he’s making a run for it with mark right behind him.

#haechan #haechan nct #lee donghyuck #donghyuck #haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #lee donghyuck x reader #haechan fluff #haechan angst #haechan imagine #haechan imagines #donghyuck imagine #donghyuck imagines #donghyuck fluff #donghyuck angst #markhyuck #mark lee fluff #mark lee #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct dream #nct 127 #jeno fluff #jaemin fluff #nct dream fluff #nct dream scenarios #nct dream reactions

[scnteria]

( alex wolff, cis male, he/him, muse b ) oh snap! is that THEODORE “TEDDY” WELLS ? they work over at high volume where some of the other employees have labeled them as THE MISCREANT. that’s probably because they can be a bit ( affable ) but also pretty ( misguided ). they’re 22 and they’ve been living in woodstock for FOUR YEARS. it must be their shift because i totally hear RADIOHEAD blasting from the record store. 

( @volumeupdates )

hi everyone !! phew i’m so hype to be here... hello... you can call me wren ! i’m in the est timezone and use she/her pronouns. a lil bit about me: i love making playlists and my silly little lattes every morning, i have two puppies at home that i love more than anything, and i’m currently watching ted lasso and falling in l*ve with jason sudeikis and no i do not think i named teddy after ted lasso but it might’ve been an unconscious thing idk

anyway, i’m going to try not to ramble too much about my boi teddy but you’ve been warned:

sweet boy theodore ! he mostly goes by teddy. i don’t think he minds being called theodore but he DOES hate the nickname ted. sorry to mr. sudeikis

he was born and raised in chicago but his father is from woodstock. he has some distant family here but growing up, it was teddy, his mom, dad, and older brother mccartney ( mick !! )

( alcoholism, hoarding disorder tw ) teddy’s older brother was like a refuge for him in a household that was pretty tough to live in. his mother is an extreme hoarder so teddy felt pretty trapped in his own home. on top of that, his father is a functioning alcoholic who had a tendency to pick fights when really wasted. ( end tw )

teddy shared a room with mick, so that was like their little escape from it all ! but mick left for college because he’s a Smart, Good Boy when teddy was fifteen ! so he took it super hard to be living alone in this environment

( depression tw ) naturally, at that age ( and with evident mental health issues running in the family ), teddy started to show signs of depression. in an attempt to alleviate that, his fam fulfilled a lifelong dream and adopted a lil border collie pup ! ( end tw )

he realized his home wasn’t suitable for him, his mental health, or his dog winnie. he saved up money by working odd jobs throughout high school and on his eighteenth birthday, he and his pup moved to woodstock.

his dog winnie is named after his celebrity crush, winona ryder ! he absolutely carries a polaroid photo of her in his wallet because truly that is his child and god bless you if you even mention dogs around him

he got the job at high volume four years ago so he’s been around for a bit ! jerry was actually really good friends with teddy’s father, so he’s known jerry pretty much his entire life. 

( drug use and alcoholism tw ) teddy has a chronic intestinal disease that basically attacks his immune system and can be preeeetty painful ! it’s manageable ofc and although teddy would say: “kurt cobain had it too so it’s fine,” it still Sucks to deal with. he is on medication for it, though another prescription works wonders for pain too...... and that ‘prescription’ is just Weed. he smokes a lot lol and also likes to drink, both as a source of self-medication and just because ! ( end tw )

( violence and ptsd tw ) oh haha also he saw jerry get shot in an alley but i imagine he is currently going through the many phases of ptsd at this moment. very much trying to keep it together but in reality, he’s a ball of pure anxiety and could crack at any given moment. definitely going through some bouts of denial and doubt ? jerry is not only his boss but he’s a family friend and someone he kind of looked up to, so it’s safe to say he’s not Doing Well ( end tw )

ok now more about his CHARACTER:

teddy is a sweetheart. he’s got golden retriever tendencies, i’d say ! verrrry sociable, loves to be around people.

he’s pretty independent and self-sufficient for someone who makes dumb decisions and doesn’t vibe with being alone  ! he has learned to look out for himself but at the same time, he’s one of those people that make you wonder how he got this far ??

overall, a pretty great friend to have. he’s a man of his word and basically likes to make people around him feel comfortable and happy ! 

kinda charming, an accidental flirt at times. like i don’t think he realizes when he’s flirting ? he’s a little oblivious and definitely does better with people who are direct with him. like if you’re dropping hints that you like him or need him to do something, he won’t pick up on it at all lol the boy is stuck in his own little world that has karma police playing on a constant loop

walking into a shift with him means you’ll either be: entertained, annoyed, distracted, or high lol

( drugs tw ) like he has shown up to work high before and probably has smoked outside during a slow shift i’m SORRY ( end tw )

messy, messy boy makes questionable decisions because he doesn’t quite think them through. he’s SO responsible with his dog, but himself ? a hot mess

perhaps he’s not ... wise when it comes to money... i’ll leave it at that for now :)

perpetually running late and rambles a good amount

weak-willed and self-destructive ! he’s easily swayed to do pretty much anything bc he’s kind of a happy-go-lucky kind of dude. pretty much does Not say no to plans and maybe he pushes his alcohol tolerance from time to time

CONNECTION ideas !!

he moved to woodstock four years ago and i wanna say he lives alone but tbh a roommate would be Cost Effective ( must like dogs tho )

that being said, if your character happened to grow up in chicago let’s do some childhood connections ! maybe an old friend, previous unrequited crush, etc.

pls give me a favorite coworker that just doesn’t get anything done when they’re working together

he absolutely will get on people’s nerves. he gets on MY nerves. so give me enemies of any sort lol

i don’t think he’s much of a relationship guy. i could see one longterm relationship in his past so an ex is a possibility ! 

a previous one-night stand is pretty accurate for him too, but i don’t see him thinking it’s weird or anything. i see him being pretty casual with hook-ups in general, so... do with that as you will

friends ! teddy is a talker and really likes to get to know people, so i can see him having friends of varying levels lol whether you’ve spoken twice but he’s like That’s My Guy ! or you regularly see him walking his dog or you just vibe at work... truly this man will talk to a wall. the possibilities are endless

a BEST friend ! i would very much like someone that teddy spews mostly everything to. he will indeed lay his life on the line for this person lol

party-goers, fellow druggies ! this is a scene teddy OFTEN dabbles in, whether you indulge yourself or provide. >:)

could definitely see him on the receiving end of a mom/dad/parent friend kind of relationship. like that john mulaney quote GET SOME REST, TALL CHILD

okay i seriously need to stop this got so long please end me anyway hit me up here or on discord for all of the plots. i really like to get into the nitty gritty of plots so if that’s your jam, let’s make some toast, baby ! i’m SO excited to get things going !

#volumeintro #i added a few tws within this ok

[ilguna]

Anteric - Chapter One (f.o)

summary: secrets have more worth than you gave them credit for.

warnings; swearing, KNIFE MENTION.

wc; 8.9k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

On the second day of every third month, you’re allowed to stand in front of the mirror. Four times a year, you get the chance to see how you’ve progressed over the months in between, and it’s only for a short amount of time. It’s vain to stare at yourself--to even take a peek--but it’s hard not to when you’re sitting right there.

It’s even harder considering you’re the one cutting your own hair. 

You steal a glance every now and then, curious as to what your face looks like now. The last time you saw yourself, you were still baby-faced, and people found it easy to pick on you for it. Now, as you see yourself in bits, you think that you look older, even if it’s only a little bit. The bullying stopped a while ago, but the other kids always have much worse names to call you.

To worry about them would be self-indulgent, since you’re not supposed to care what everyone else thinks of you. And to some extent, it isn’t really a problem for you in the first place. Considering that they mostly resort to name-calling, it’s easy to miss what they’re saying most of the time. You stopped listening a while ago. It’s when they get physical, do you start to have trouble.

It’s taken a while to perfect it, but you don’t immediately retaliate anymore. Mostly because it started to reflect onto your family, and it’s not really something you guys need at the moment. You’ve already got a few heads turned your way, which is going against the entire premise of the faction. And it also expresses what type of parenting has been going on inside of your house.

You wish you could say that it’ll be easy to stay under the radar from now on. With the problem found, the easy route would be to just be on your best behavior for the rest of high school. Unfortunately, it’s not like that, and you have a sticky feeling it’s not going to be that way for a while.

You thin your hair out between your fingers, eyes fixated on what you’ll be trimming. If you take off too much, it’ll be harder to put your hair up. Then, you’ll have to find an alternative way to style your hair so that it looks as boring as possible. Or, as everyone else in the faction says it, unnoticeable. 

You snip the hair, watching as the little bits float in the air, slowly making their way down. You place the scissors onto your lap before running a hand through your hair, getting out anything that’s loose. They fall together in clumps, joining the rest of the hair that’s on the floor.

Judging by touch, you think that the length is fine. The only real way to test it is to pin your hair up, so you use the hair tie around your wrist to do so. When you look in the mirror to make sure that nothing on your head is straying, you see your brother, Reed, standing behind you.

“Good morning.” your voice is fairly quiet, not trying to wake up your sister.

You’re also hoping that he hasn’t been standing there long enough to see each individual time you’ve snuck a look at yourself. He might be your brother, but he’s the only one keeping you in check, making sure you stick to the rules. Sometimes, you’re allowed to get away with acts of defiance like this, especially in the confines of your own home. On other days, he won’t hesitate to call you out on your behavior. It’s hard to tell what mood he’s in all the time, he hardly expresses what he’s feeling anymore.

“Good morning,” he says back, you let out a quiet sigh of relief. If he were annoyed, he would’ve voiced it by now, “If you needed help, you could’ve woken me.”

You shake your head, “No, I thought I’d let you sleep.”

You get off the stool, being careful not to step in your own hair. What you said to Reed is only half-true. Lately, Alyssum, your sister, has been waking up early in the morning, making it impossible for either of you to sleep in as much as you would like to. You decided that asking Reed to do something for you was fairly selfish, and you were also unsure if he would get mad about it. And the second reason why you didn’t wake him is because you’re hoping that he’ll take care of Alyssum so that you can make breakfast.

Oh, and the final reason is because Reed isn’t very good with a pair of scissors. He’s been giving you haircuts since he got custody of you, but he isn’t improving as quickly as you hoped he would. The only thing that he’s mildly good at, is spinning the scissors around his thumb while he finds the next spot in your hair to butcher. You’ll have to give him some credit, in all the times you’ve watched him with the scissors, he hasn’t once cut himself. He deserves a little praise for that fact.

“Okay, thank you.” he says.

You set the scissors onto an adjacent table, fingers finding the broom handle. You give Reed a smile, watching as he goes to leave the room. He’s halfway out the door before he stops, pulling the grey panel on the wall to cover the mirror. You disappear before your own eyes. The next time you should see yourself in the mirror will be three months from now, if things go how everyone in your faction hopes.

Reed doesn’t look at you again as he leaves the room and goes down the hall towards Alyssum’s bedroom. It looks like you’ll get your way with making breakfast after all. You don’t actually mind Reed’s cooking, as there isn’t much he can mess up in the first place, but taking care of Alyssum is a handful. 

You sweep all of your hair into the dust pan, before carefully dumping it into the garbage can. When the lid shuts, you place everything back to where it was before you grabbed it. This is where it’ll likely sit for a couple of weeks, until Reed volunteers the house up for company. Then, you’ll need to help clean.

In Alyssum’s room, which used to belong to your parents, you hear the faint sound of cooing from Reed to calm her down before she has a meltdown. You pause on the top of the stairs for a second, staring at the open door with a slight urge to go over and look in to see the room before you leave for school today.

Then your feet begin to bring you down the steps, saving you from a morning of grief.

--

The condition of the road out where you live makes it practically impossible to drive a car. Because of this, your family decided a long time ago that it wasn’t necessary to buy one to drive you and your brothers to school everyday. Especially not when there’s perfect public transportation at the ready, that’ll get you there all the same.

Even now, when it’s just you, Reed and Alyssum, Reed didn’t find a need for a car either. He also didn’t think it was necessary to relocate to a smaller place, with only two bedrooms instead of three. Abnegation says that opposite genders can’t stay in the same room--except if you’re married, of course--but it doesn’t hold the same weight when it comes to housing sisters. Reed nearly went ahead and put you and Alyssum into a room together, until he realized that an entire room would be going to waste. So, she got your parents’ room all to herself.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t jealous over it. She’s staying in that room, and she’s not even old enough to comprehend the fact that she is, much less that she should be appreciating it. She’s in an intimate space, one that you had begged for multiple times. The only reason why Reed said no is because he was sure it was self-indulgent at this point.

It’s not. You know why you wanted to. It’s because it was your last effort to make it feel like you were still close to your parents. With Alyssum, the room had to be changed so that it would fit her needs, but the room the way it was before would have worked just fine for you. Now, you’re left to nothing but hazy memories that only seem to fade the older you get. 

There’s nothing you wouldn’t give to hug them one last time.

The public bus comes to a slow stop in front of you, brakes squealing loudly. You and a couple more Abnegation teenagers stand at the stop. When the doors open, you don’t hesitate to go inside first, otherwise you’ll be standing there all day trying to decide an order. You head down the middle, eyes landing on a free spot off to the side.

You sit, scoot yourself as far back as possible, and then ball your fists when the bus starts moving. The ground is uneven, which makes for an awful ride out of your neighborhood. The good news is that the further you go, the more the asphalt begins to smooth out. There’s a few more stops on the way to the school, which allows you to watch as the bus fills up with adults, on the way to their work. 

On the final stop, you watch as an Erudite woman with sleek black hair and electric blue glasses comes onto the bus. She’s the last person to get on the bus, all of the seats are full. Her eyes search anyway, with that sort of knowledge unknown to her. As she draws closer, you get to your feet, hand reaching for the bar above you to hold onto.

She notices your act of kindness, but her eyes narrow into slits anyway. You stare at her, and then you look towards the front of the bus. She sits where you were moments before, and not a single thanks leaves her mouth. In Abnegation, it’s expected of you to give up your spot of comfort for someone else. Apparently in Erudite, it’s not custom to express gratitude. Either that, or the hate speech they’re preaching is pretty effective, you can’t tell the difference anymore.

The road smooths out completely as you near the Hub, which means that you don’t have to brace yourself for potholes anymore. Still, the bus sways and groans as it tries to navigate through the streets. When it stops in front of the school, you readjust the backpack straps on your shoulders before making your way out.

The Upper Levels building--the high school, in other words--is the oldest building in the city. It’s tall, made of steel and glass. In front of the building is a large metal structure, symbolism for something. After school, the Dauntless like to climb it, and see who will reach the top first before they fall. You’ve never seen someone make it all the way up.

Sometimes you’ll stand around and watch them climb. You’ll note where they place their hands, where they wedge their feet in places that shouldn’t be possible. And you also notice when exactly they go wrong. Maybe they’ll shift their footing a little too hard, or they don’t move quick enough to the next piece of jarred metal. The Dauntless are fearless, but they retreat the fastest when they know they’re going to break a bone.

A part of you would like to try and see how they do it. Climbing it can’t be that hard, can it? You think that if they put a little more thought as to where they’re going exactly, they’d be up the structure in a heartbeat. The other part of you says that the idea is stupid, you’ll only get yourself hurt. You’ve never done something like that before, so how do you know that it’s easy?

After staring for a couple of seconds longer, you head inside of the school. The hallways are already pretty crowded, with students covering every inch of what would normally be open floor. The energy inside of the building is contagious, everyone here has an antsy feeling about them. They only seem to get louder, move quicker, and mess around with each other.

All classes are cut in half today because of the Aptitude test that’ll be taking place after lunch. This is why everyone is so antsy, the test will be the decider of where you’ll be spending the rest of your life. Which faction you’ll choose to go to tomorrow during the Choosing Ceremony. After today, you’ll never have to step foot into this building again. It’s more than just a relief.

You start toward your first class, gritting your teeth at the thought of the test. You’re sure that it wouldn’t be such a bad event if it weren’t for the fact of what happened last time someone in your family got to choose. He went quietly, without a word, a look in your direction, or a goodbye. You were thirteen then, you still remember the ache in your chest as you helped fold chairs with the rest of your faction. Reed didn’t even say anything.

He still hasn’t said anything.

You wait outside of the English classroom for a moment, looking down the hallway in the direction that you just came. All you see is the different colored clothing moving around, Erudite joining Erudite against the wall, Amity playing hand-clapping games in the middle. It’s only a few seconds later you’re seeing your best friend

As always, he’s hunched over, trying to look like he’s not as tall as he is. He’s in the middle of a growth spurt and if he stands at his full height, he can see inches over everyone’s heads. Last year he didn’t have to worry about ruining his back, but now he has to, otherwise he’ll start calling attention to himself. Which is hard enough considering the fact that he’s Finnick Odair.

You’ve known him since you were a kid, the two of you grew up side by side. You’ve seen him at plenty of dinner parties, volunteer movements, and at school. It was only a matter of time before you grew to be friends, and it just so happened to be sooner rather than later. If there’s anyone that you’d trust with your life, it would be Finnick. 

He wears the same grey Abnegation robes that you do. His hands are stuffed into his front pockets. Per Abnegation rules, his hair is pretty short to keep it from distracting himself and getting in the way. His face starts off straight, but the closer he gets, the more he smiles, until it’s a full-on grin. He does this every single day without fail.

“Good morning, I see that your hair isn’t mauled this month.”

You deadpan. Leave it to him to immediately pick out your hair like an ass, “I see that your mom refused to let yours grow out more.”

Finnick makes his usual mocking face at you. He can’t really say what he wants to, there’s always people listening in on conversations. So, he developed a special face to give you each time to mock you in retaliation if you mock him. You’re still working on your face, but in the meantime, you mirror how he looks.

“Ready for testing?”

“Yeah, I think that I’m going to rig it so I don’t get Abnegation.” Finnick pulls a hand out of his pocket to scratch his arm.

Another thing about Finnick that’s important, he hates it here more than you do. There’s times when Finnick’s personality completely overlaps the Abnegation ideal’s. He doesn’t like to be quiet, he doesn’t like to give up his seat on the bus for rude Erudite women, he hates the constant reminder by his parents to do ‘his part’. You can’t blame him.

“What’re you going to rig it for? Erudite?”

You watch the smirk cross his face, “Even though that would definitely piss off my parents, I think I’ll have to pass.”

Finnick’s not completely thrilled by what Erudite has to say about Abnegation, either. Finnick might not like it here right now, but it’s his home. He was born here, raised here, and his family lives here. He can’t turn his back completely to it. Besides, what Erudite is doing is stooping low.

“Are you going to take it seriously?” he asks, turning toward the classroom.

Just before you go inside, you give him a half-shrug, “Might as well.”

During lunch, you sit across from Finnick. The two of you eat quietly, occasionally talking if a topic pops into your head. You mostly pick at your food, not really hungry. You’re honestly feeling nauseous. The teachers all day have been reminding their classes that the aptitude tests are nothing to worry over. But they are when you have things that are tethering you to the faction.

The test administrators call ten names at a time, one for every testing room. Most of the administrators are Abnegation volunteers, naturally. But there’s a Candor man and a Dauntless woman in two out of the ten rooms, because the rules state that you can’t be tested by someone in your own faction. So, you’ll be stuck with either the man, or the woman. The rules also say that you can’t prepare for the test, or talk about your results after. The aptitude test is a complete mystery to you. The idea alone is adding to the nausea.

The tables inside of the cafeteria are split up into different cliques. With the Abnegation at one table, sitting quietly--with the exception of a few people like you and Finnick--and trying not to inconvenience anyone around you guys. If you were to do something that your faction doesn’t normally allow, it would call attention to the Abnegation. This is why no one at the table speaks above a whisper.

The Erudite table is piled with different books, some of them being handed around like they’re toys to play with. They have no disregard for how loud they are when they discuss what they read--just like the Dauntless and Candor. The entire Candor seems to be split two ways in an important debate. There’s a couple of people standing, shouting over the others to try and get their point across. A few people are laughing, smiling, and pitching in as a joke. 

As for the Dauntless, they’re always loud. Cheering, playing games, their laugh echoes across the entire cafeteria. Everyone is used to them, so no one turns a head when there’s a sudden scream coming from their side of the room. At the moment, they seem to be putting things on the line as they play an arm game. Whoever overpowers the strongest will win it all, but have to play the next person in line as a repercussion.

And finally, the Amity are all doing different things, almost as loud as Dauntless and Candor combined. There’s a group of girls at the end of the table singing a song together, which slowly seems to spread and infect the rest of the table. On the other end, some girls chitter and giggle to themselves.

A single thought comes to mind, about how all the rest of the factions are allowed to have fun. While the Abnegation have to sit and be as non-distracting as possible. You know that you love it here, but sometimes jealousy strikes when she sees just how little you’re able to do. In moments like these, you can see why Finnick doesn’t want to stay. And it almost feels like a good enough reason why you shouldn’t either. Your results have to be Abnegation, though.

The test administrators come out of the hallway together in a group. They read the ten names, which consists of two people from each of the factions. You are one of the names called, with Finnick being the second one. Together, the two of you rise from the table and join each other’s side. As you follow behind the other testees, you say nothing.

The hallway where the aptitude tests are administered is typically off limits, considering that the rooms are for the sole purpose of the tests. Today will be the first and last day that you’ll ever get to see the inside. The rooms are separated by mirrors. You’ll get to see yourself for a second time today.

Before you head into the room, you share a brief look with Finnick. He raises his eyebrows, gives you a childish grin, and then goes inside. You smile a little to yourself before you head inside room 8. Inside is the Dauntless woman, she shuts the door without a word. You resist the urge to take more than a peripheral glance at yourself in the mirror.

The Dauntless woman is tall, she has tan skin and wears a pure black suit. Her dark hair is long, and pinned out of her face. When she looks at you, you’re sure that she’s glaring, but it has to be her natural look. Her eyes shift away from you as fast as they came. You trail behind her.

The mirrors cover every wall in the room, making it practically impossible to avoid staring. You keep reminding yourself that you looked this morning, that it should be good enough, that you didn’t change in a few hours. To save it for three months from now, when you’ll have passed the Abnegation initiation and you’ll be more satisfied with who you are.

The ceilings are white, and the light that it emits is also white. In the middle of the room sits a singular reclined chair, where you’ll be sitting when you take the test. You stop next to it, not sure if you should go ahead and just sit on it. You look to the Dauntless woman for guidance, but she doesn’t seem to notice for a while.

When she speaks, her voice is smooth and calm, as if she never has a reason to raise her voice, “My name is Laurel. Go ahead and take a seat.”

You nod, slowly sliding onto the chair. You place your head on the headrest, and at the angle you’re sitting, the white light has a perfect opportunity to shine straight into your eyes. Laurel doesn’t say anything else as she works on the machine, which is to your right. You stare at her, still trying to get the thought of just a peek at the mirror, out of your head.

When she’s done with the machine, she produces two electrodes that she places onto your forehead. The third belongs to her, right in the middle, and then she attaches a wire to it, and then to you, and then to the machine. She works quickly, she must do this often if she’s so confident in her movements.

As you watch her move, you take notice that besides the dark clothing she wears, there’s no other hint that she’s in Dauntless. No piercings blatantly on her face, no tattoos on her arms, face or neck. She could belong in any faction, and you wouldn’t have a clue which, if it weren’t for the black clothes.

And as you continue staring, you finally see it. It’s just a peak of a tattoo on her forearm, the only reason why you’ve caught it is because her blazer sleeves don’t go down to her wrists. It ends in the middle of her forearm. You didn’t get a good enough look at it the first time, but when she stretches and reaches for something next to the machine, you can see a mannequin. A headless one, just the body on a stand. There’s no color to it, it’s just shaded in different tones of grey.

“I like your tattoo.” you say, as she moves behind you. Not being able to see her directly anymore makes you a little anxious. 

You calm down some when she speaks, “Thank you.” She appears to your left, now. A vial of clear liquid in her fingers, out in your direction. You carefully take it from her, “Drink.”

You look at it for a moment, figuring that this is where the test starts. Not when you drink it, but whatever comes after. You’re careful not to let any of it spill onto your clothes. It tastes just like water, but your head feels heavy. Laurel takes the vial from you, you take a deep breath and close your eyes.

--

When they open, you’re not in the reclined chair. You’re not even inside of the aptitude testing room, you’re in the empty cafeteria, void of all students. The silence is overwhelming, you’re used to the screaming, laughing and singing. Now, you’re the only person here.

In front of you, on the table, sits two wooden baskets. Inside the one on the left, sits a hunk of cheese, a healthy yellow-orange color. While in the other basket is a knife, with a long silver blade. You stare at them for a moment, and nearly jump out of your skin when a voice breaks the silence.

“Choose.” The woman says behind you.

“What will I need them for?” you ask, eyes flickering between the choices.

“Choose.” The woman repeats, impatience growing in her voice.

Your fingers reach for the knife. When it’s in your hands, you stare down at it. The only times you use a knife is when you’re the one cooking dinner. It used to be a chore shared between everyone in your family, but now it’s only you and Reed. Depending on who starts the week off cooking, you’ll make dinner four times a week, or three.

The baskets disappear, the cheese with it. The only thing that stays is the knife, which you turn over in your hands, trying to find a comfortable way to hold it. A door creaks behind you, making you turn halfway to see what made the noise. You’re met with a dog, slowly inching its way towards you, lips peeling back as a growl rises in its throat.

In Abnegation, no one is allowed to have a pet. Whether it be a dog, a cat, a fish, or anything else. If you own a pet, it must be for your own pleasure, and not for the benefit of the animal. Therefore, owning an animal would be self-indulgent. The other factions don’t have to follow this rule, though. They’re allowed to own anything they’d like to.

Unfortunately, this means you have no experience with dogs. All you do know is that when you take a step backwards, the growl turns into a snarl. It’s loud and threatening enough to make you reconsider running away. You drag your foot back forward, and stare as the animal gets closer. 

The dog thinks you’re a threat, right? So, what’s a way that makes you look friendly? You try your best to find an answer while the dog gets closer. Soon, it’ll be right on top of you. You’ve got to work quicker than this. It can’t be that difficult. You close your eyes and try to remember all the times you’ve seen Alyssum or Reed afraid. Reed is practically impossible, but for Alyssum, it’s all the time.

She doesn’t like strangers, Reed says that this is common among little kids because they don’t know who is coming towards them. Reed says that you used to run behind your mother’s legs until the stranger seemed more approachable. You try to imagine a scene where someone would look more approachable.

And then it comes to you.

Your eyes open, looking at the dog, who is mere inches away from you. Slowly, you lower yourself into a crouch, giving the dog a smile. You hope that it can tell the difference between a smile and you baring your teeth. To further your friendliness, go you ahead and gently set the knife against the tile flooring, the blade makes a clicking sound.

With the sudden urge to hold your hand out toward the dog, you follow your instincts. It’s your only choice, you’d hate to use the knife against the dog. You’ve never owned one before, never came across one. To have your first encounter be a murder would be miserable, you’re sure that it would stick with you for a while after.

The dog doesn’t stop moving, but you were right to hold your hand out. The dog carefully lowers it’s lips back into place as it touches its nose against your palm, sniffing. You just want to be friends, you’re not here to hurt it. All the dog has to do is calm down. You slowly lower one knee to the floor, trying to make the situation even better.

It works. The dog licks your hand, and then nudges its head into your hand. Gently, you rub its ears, letting it come closer. The dog licks your face, right up the side of your cheek. You knock back a gag at the smell of its breath as you use the sleeve of your shirt to wipe off the slobber. You keep with petting it.

One second, it’s only you and the dog in the cafeteria. The next, you see a little girl standing across the room. She wears a white dress, so she must be from Candor--the faction’s colors is black and white, as truth and lies are black and white, with no grey area. She stares, her eyes land on the dog, and then a smile spreads across her face.

She starts towards you, “Puppy!” she calls, hands outstretched. 

You don’t think there’s a problem at first, but as soon as she starts to run, you tense. You reach your hand out, grabbing the back of the dog’s neck, hoping that’ll be enough to keep it in place. However, all it takes is one lurch towards the girl, and your hand slips. The girl stops in the aisle, eyes widening at the sight of the aggressive dog.

With how fast you get up, you nearly slip on the polished floor, chasing after the dog. It isn’t until you’re right next to it, do you remember the knife that’s still sitting on the floor, waiting to be used. It’s too late, you’re too far away, and if you turn back now, the dog will attack the girl. The dog goes to spring, you jump towards the girl.

Your hand curls around the back of her head to protect it from slamming against the tile. Her small arms wrap around your body like a hug. The floor draws near, and you tense again, bracing for the collision. But it’s all gone. The dog, the girl, the cafeteria. You’re back inside of the testing room, still alone.

You accidentally glance at the mirrors, and find that there’s no reflection. You go a little closer, hands touching the glass, a small frown appearing on your face. When you go towards the door, your handprint leaves a clear streak across the surface. Your hand turns the doorknob downward, and you push the door open.

There is no hallway on the other side of the door, only the bus you rode to school this morning. Carefully, you go out to join everyone else, but find that all the seats are full. You reach up, toward one of the metal handles on the ceiling just in case today’s ride isn’t smooth. When you look behind you, eyes searching for the door you came through, you see the bus. There was no door.

You stare out the window, over the top of a man’s head to watch the world outside blur. In his hands is a newspaper, opened wide enough to cover his face, but you can still see his hands. Slowly, you watch them clench around the paper, making it crinkle under the pressure.

“Do you know this guy?” The man asks you. You hum slightly, raising your eyebrows to see where he’s pointing to on the front page. The headline is bolded, “Brutal Murderer Finally Apprehended!”

You frown slightly, looking down to the picture next. You stare at it for a while, not sure what to say. The woman in the picture stares straight ahead, she has bangs, the rest of her hair is behind her shoulders. She doesn’t have any sort of facial expression, she’s just… calm.

“Do you?” he insists, your eyebrows push in.

You don’t know. Maybe you’ve seen her around somewhere at school? But she looks older than you, and you don’t know any older women. You can’t shake the expression on her face, though. You do know her? That can’t be right. You look to see the man’s face behind the newspaper, but you still can’t properly see. What do you tell him? You can’t just admit to something that you’re not sure is true.

“No.” you say slowly, hoping that’s the right answer. Up until now, you’ve been sure as to what to say and do, but now you’re caught in the unknown. 

The man is silent for a moment, before he slowly raises to his feet, newspaper dropping to the ground. Your eyes land on his face, which is angry, his eyebrows pulled downward. He clenches his fists, towering over you. When he breathes, all you can smell is tobacco.

“You’re lying, I can hear it in your voice.” he snaps, voice raising.

“How is it lying if I’m unsure?” you ask back, staring him right in the eye, “Would you have rather me said yes even if I didn’t know? That would also have been a lie.”

This is a situation where you lose either way, isn’t it? Unless you were supposed to say yes, that you do know her. Just because you vaguely recognized her doesn’t mean you know her. It means that you’ve seen her before. Then again, this is all a test, none of it is real. Which means that he isn’t real either.

“If you know her, you could save me.” he says, and when you don’t budge, he shouts, “You could save me!”

You lean forward a little bit, “No.”

--

You wake with a jolt, your hands finding the arms of the reclined chair. There’s a breathless feeling in your chest, as you struggle to get a hold of yourself. Your heart is pounding so loudly in your ears that it takes a while before you can even focus on anything else.

Laurel slowly picks the electrodes off of your forehead, and then hers. She says nothing to you. Somehow, her silence is louder now than it was before you went into the test. She sets everything back into place next to the machine. She takes a deep breath, “I’ll be right back, don’t move.”

You stay where you are, watching as she leaves through the door you came in. This is not supposed to happen. You’re practically told nothing about the test, what you’ll do inside, and what happens after. But it doesn’t take a genius to know that there is something wrong. You just don’t know what it is, and she hasn’t told you just yet.

Minutes pass, you pick at your nails with your fingers to keep from gnawing them off. The problem is the test. You did something inside of the test to cause this. But what part of it? The knife? The dog? The girl? The man? You did all of it the way you would, which is what you need to do in order to get the most authentic test results. It’s the whole point of the test in the first place!

You can hear the doorknob turn before Laurel walks back in. She still gives you no indication as to what she might be thinking when she comes over. She stops right next to you, fingers rubbing over the mannequin tattoo on her arm. Her lips are pressed together as she stares at you.

“Your test results are inconclusive.” she says.

You open your mouth, and then close it. Inconclusive? There’s been no result?

“Each stage of the simulation is supposed to eliminate one or more of the factions. But you managed to only rule out two of the five.” Her face is calm, her voice suggests otherwise. When you don’t interject, she continues, “Grabbing the knife is a Dauntless-oriented response, which got rid of Amity completely. You threw yourself between the dog and the girl instead of attacking the dog, so Abnegation. But you can’t be Abnegation because of what happened on the bus.

“Which then, also, ruled out Candor because you didn’t tell the truth. However, when the man said that you could save him, you still didn’t say anything, which isn’t normal for people in Abnegation. The question you posed to him on the bus suggests Erudite, same thing for how you handled the aggressive dog.” she stops talking.

You’re quiet too, “So if I’m not Amity and Candor, I’m Erudite, Abnegation and Dauntless?”

“You hold equal aptitude for each of those factions, yes.” she says, and for the first time, you see a frown appear on her face. It looks unusual on her, especially now that you’ve figured she doesn’t typically show emotion, “(Y/n), when tests are inconclusive… it means the person taking it is Divergent.”

Suddenly, you don’t feel like you should be calm with this news. You’ve never heard of the word before, but the way she whispered it tells you that it’s not good. No matter what context it lies inside, no one should want to be Divergent. And here you are, stuck with the label.

“Do not tell anyone of your test result.” Laurel straightens up, “Not family, not friends, not the leader of the faction you choose next. Being Divergent is dangerous, and so is standing out.”

She moves out of the way, allowing you to get to your feet. She moves back over to the machine. You dig your nails into your palm.

“You have to report the test results, don’t you?” you ask, watching her.

“Yes.”

You press your lips together momentarily, “What are you putting me in as?”

Laurel’s fingers pause, thinking this over. When she looks at you, her eyebrows are raised, “What do you want it to be?”

You don’t want to make this choice. This should not be left up to you to decide. You didn’t even know what you really wanted going in, how are you supposed to know now? Especially when there aren’t any answers being given to you? But then you remember what you thought in the cafeteria.

“Abnegation.” you say.

It has to be Abnegation. There was no choice about it.

“I’ll put in Abnegation, then.”

You stand in the room, unsure of what to do next. But you guess that you can’t just disappear. If you’re already in deep trouble with the Divergence, then that means leaving on your own will could raise eyebrows. You just have to tough out the rest of the day, as soon as you’re alone, you’ll be able to think.

And convince yourself that you’re making the right choice.

--

Instead of taking the bus home, you walk with Finnick to the Abnegation housing so that you can spend as much time together as possible. This will be the last time the two of you will get to hang out and talk before the Choosing Ceremony tomorrow. Then, you’ll be left to switch to a different faction, or stay with the one you’re in now. Even with the time you’ve burned walking here, thinking to yourself, you’ve made no progress. 

You thought that it would be over as soon as you picked Abnegation, that you would be able to move on immediately. But it feels like you’ve made the wrong decision. You don’t feel complete or satisfied with the answer you gave Laurel. In fact, each time you think about what you told her, you feel sick. You can’t be regretting it, can you?

If you are, you have less than a day to fix it and make up your mind.

Finnick kicks a rock, sending it flying down the asphalt. You watch as it slowly skitters along until it falls into a pothole, temporarily out of sight until you pass it when you get up there.

“So, you going to tell me what you got on the aptitude test or not?” you ask, looking at Finnick.

A smile cracks onto his face, “You’re not supposed to ask, you know.”

“Out of all the rules we’ve broken, you think this one matters the most?” you raise your eyebrows, “Wow, maybe you do deserve to stay in Abnegation.”

Finnick shoves your shoulder hard enough to make you barely lose balance. You laugh, he tries not to. But the longer it lasts, and the louder it gets, he can’t help the smile that comes across his face.

“It’s not funny.” he says, chuckling slightly.

“Then why are you smiling?”

“Because you won’t shut up.” he shakes his head.

You wait a moment, before trying a different angle, “Did you end up rigging it?”

“Nah, I was too nervous to. Plus I got stuck with the Candor guy so that kinda ruined it.” Finnick then cracks up, “All I did was look at myself in the mirror and the guy said: ‘That’s not very Abnegation of you’. So I told him that the Candor aren’t supposed to lie, speaking their mind wasn’t included the last time I checked. He wasn’t very happy.”

“I’m sure he called your mom immediately after.” You’re laughing.

“He probably cried after I left.” Finnick says, trying to keep a straight face. A second later, he’s laughing hard enough for him to stop so that he doesn’t fall.

Here, in the safe confines of the Abnegation neighborhoods, you’re not held under the same weights as you are inside of the school. You don’t have to be composed here, which means that you can be as loud as you want. You can laugh, joke, and play around with Finnick if you really wanted to. You’ve done it plenty of times in the past, before. It’s only when you’re in public spaces, around the other factions, when you’re supposed to be forgettable. 

This is a reason why you don’t think that staying here could be bad. You will always have time to goof off, it’ll just have to be in private.

“How did your test go? You looked worried after.” Finnick stands his full height, reaching his arms into the air as he stretches. When he’s done, he grabs the backs of his shoulders and lets his elbows hand in his face.

“Oh, you know, my worst nightmare came true.”

Finnick falls quiet. Just like how you know that Finnick doesn’t want to be here, he knows that you don’t exactly find this place pleasant, either. There’s a lot of memories that have attached themselves to you against your will. Plus, everyone in this faction knows your secrets and what has happened to you in the last couple of years. It’s practically inescapable.

“So, you think you’ll stay?” he asks.

The two of you stop in front of your house. He lives further down the road, so Finnick has the perfect chance to walk you home everyday. On some days, you don’t like it because he’s more high-energy. But today, you wish that you could walk and talk with him for a little while longer. Take paths that you’ve never taken before, see new things and find a reason to stay that you haven’t thought of just yet.

You give Finnick a shrug because you don’t know. You may have made your results Abnegation, but they don’t tie you down. Just because you score something on your test doesn’t mean you have to stay. You didn’t get Amity and Candor, but tomorrow you could still choose to go there. It’s your choice, but you have to remember that it’s permanent. It has to be a choice that you can live with.

“I’m still looking for a reason not to.” you tell Finnick, “I don’t suppose you’ll tell me what you’ve gotten?”

Finnick gives you a half-smile, “You’ll have to wait and see tomorrow.”

You let out a dramatic sigh, “It better be good.”

“I’ve decided to become a brainwashed Erudite.” Finnick says, he pretends to push up glasses that aren’t on his face, “According to my calculations, the chemical solution that you are currently holding in your hand--”

“Okay, you can shut up.” you laugh, “It’s horrifying enough trying to picture you in glasses.”

Finnick smiles again, “No matter what happens tomorrow, we’ll be okay, right?”

“Finnick, you’re my best friend. You’ll have to do a lot more than leaving me behind to make me mad at you.” you hold out your hand for him to take. In Abnegation, greetings are always done through head nods. You’re not supposed to get physical with others. However, this could be it. And you’ve broken so many rules, why not another? 

Finnick places his hand in yours. You go to shake, figuring that the Candor greeting could be good enough, but he pulls you in. You collide with his body, feeling his arms wrap around you as a hug. For a moment, you stand there, arms hovering over his body. But then you place your head on his shoulder, squeezing him tightly. You might not have been cut out for Amity, but a goodbye like this feels natural.

“Choose what you want, not what everyone is telling you to.” he murmurs.

“Same thing goes for you, okay?” you pull away, giving him a warm smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Stupid’s my middle name.” Finnick backs up, and then holds up his hand, “See you on the flip side.”

You give him a wave, and then head inside of the house. The door clicks shut behind you, you stand in the doorway, staring into the living room. Reed is at work, Alyssum is next door, being watched by the neighbors. You walk through the quiet house and to your room. It’s bland, only the bare necessities in here. There’s no decoration on the desk, shelf or walls. You let the backpack drop to the floor.

You leave the house to go next door, knuckles hitting the door hard enough to call attention to the fact that you’re outside. You wait patiently, looking toward the direction where Finnick had gone. You’ve only been to his house a few times, and it was always to have dinner with his family. 

The door in front of you opens to reveal Naida Dorazio, a family friend. She’s the mother of one girl, and four boys. Her two oldest kids are already gone and in different factions. The girl, Calandra, is well into her twenties, like Reed. She’s the oldest, and transferred to Erudite long before they started releasing reports about Abnegation. As for the second oldest, his name is Caspian, he was in Reed’s grade. They were good friends just before he transferred, you can’t remember where he is now.

Because Naida has three boys to take care of, who are all in either Lower Levels or Middle Levels, she stays home most of the time. She has a job, but it’s part-time. It’s her husband, Amon, who works full-time. She volunteered to take care of Alyssum during the day for your family so that Reed could go and work. You just have to be sure to pick her up after school.

Naida gives you a wide smile, “How was your test?”

“Good, thank you for asking.”

“It’s an easy decision, I hope.” she says.

You smile back, “Yeah.”

She disappears from the doorway for a moment. When she reappears, she’s got Alyssum in her arms. Upon seeing you, Aly stretches her arms in your direction, similar to how the little girl in the aptitude test reached for the dog. You bring Alyssum into your arms, she places her head against your shoulder.

“Thank you.” you say.

“Good luck tomorrow.”

She shuts the door when you start towards your own house. Alyssum will probably be put down for a brief nap so that you can make dinner, even though you made breakfast this morning. Technically, it should be Reed’s turn. But without any homework to do, and with how tired Alyssum is, you need an excuse to busy your hands.

Alyssum falls asleep almost immediately, you end up in the kitchen, humming to yourself. You defrost chicken, and start with a can of vegetables on the stove. You do the dishes, and bounce back to cook the chicken when you’re done. By the time that Reed comes home, dinner is ready, Alyssum is already in her high chair, and you’re setting the table.

Reed sets his things by the door, then helps you set the rest of the table. You place the food into serving plates and bowls, then set it on the table too. Reed has to make a separate plate for Alyssum, but she knows to wait until you and Reed are situated. You let Reed start and pass the bowls and plates to you so that you can serve yourself. In Abnegation, no one eats until everyone has a full plate.

The room is filled with forks and spoons clinking against the glass plates until Reed breaks the silence. You don’t speak first anymore. For a while, you used to. You just wanted something to talk about, because you can’t guess what Reed feels like. But after Reed got upset at you enough times, you stopped. How are you supposed to be Abnegation if you’re not comfortable in silence? 

“How was your aptitude test?” he asks. For once, he actually watches you answer. Reed will ask questions out of courtesy of you. Like you said, you used to speak a lot during dinner. Sometimes he can tell when you just want something to talk about. Your day at school, his day at work, a dinner plan with a family, whatever.

Today is not one of those days when you need to speak about what happened. 

“It went well.” you say, looking at him.

Most of the time, Reed won’t actually stare when you answer his questions. It’s like he’s always half-here, half-somewhere else. It doesn’t mean that he doesn’t listen, though. He’s always listening, and if you aren’t careful about what you said, he’ll bring it up later, in a different conversation.

“If it went well, then why did you make dinner?” he asks, eyebrows raising slightly as he cuts into his chicken.

He acts like you can’t do anything nice in this house, “I didn’t have any homework. I thought it wouldn’t hurt to start dinner early.” you pause for a moment, not sure whether or not you should ask the question that’s burning on your tongue. But it’s coming out either way, because you’re not a child, and Reed can’t keep seeing you as one, “Is there a problem with that?”

Defiance is not a natural Abnegation trait, obedience is. 

Reed doesn’t say anything in turn. He can’t ask about your results, Reed is a rule-follower. But maybe you saying that is a big enough hint of what you might have gotten. Laurel might have put you in as Abnegation, but you’ve got two other factions right on it’s tail. Some stronger, and a much better option for you, than others.

Tonight, dinner ends in a tense silence. Reed doesn’t allow you to clean the table, or the dishes. And there will be no time together in the family room tonight, either. Which is probably for the best, you’re not all that upset. Reed will need time to calm down before he speaks to you tomorrow morning. He doesn’t lose his composure often, but when it happens, it’s not pretty.

You go up to your room, shutting the door behind you. You stand in the middle of the room, staring at the wall. Tonight could be your last night inside of your room, inside of the house that you’ve called home for sixteen years. Or, you could come back to it tomorrow evening, after folding chairs and helping the other Abnegation clean the room.

The more today drags on, the more your sight begins to blur.

You’re not sure you can stay in Abnegation. Not without Finnick here to be around when you’re having a hard time with Reed. And if you stay, there’s a chance that he might too. Finnick is completely capable of picking things for himself, but you know that there will be a certain amount of guilt when it comes to him. You’re his best friend, he’s seen you in every condition that there is to be in.

Which might be all the more reason to go live somewhere else. It could mean something better. A fresh start.

A sick feeling rises in your stomach when you realize that this must be the exact confliction that Mox must have been in the night before his Choosing Ceremony. Mox, who seemed the most selfless out of the three of you. And still he had the courage to switch factions and try something new.

The question is, do you?

--

ANTERIC IS A SPIN-OFF DIVERGENT AU //MASTERLIST//

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[vitanitf]

BASIC QUESTIONS

First name? “Vitani.”

Surname? “Leu.”

Middle names? “Alala.”

Nicknames? “V.”

Date of birth? “August 20th, 1998.”

Age? “Twenty two.”

PHYSICAL / APPEARANCE

Height? “5′4.”

Weight? “121 pounds.”

Build? “Athletic.”

Hair color? “Pink right now.”

Hair style? “Buzzcut.”

Eye color? “Brown.”

Eye shape? “Shit, I don’t know. Deep set?”

Glasses or contact lenses? “I wasn’t born with no weak ass eyes.”

Distinguishing facial features? “Freckles.”

Which facial feature is most prominent? “My jawline.”

Which bodily feature is most prominent? “While I’d love to say my ass, I think it would be my arms.”

Other distinguishing features? “A shit ton of little scars.”

Skin? “Light.”

Hands? “Strong.”

Make up? “I do eyes and lips, that’s all. Eyeliner, lipstick. Eyeshadow and mascara if I’m feeling frisky.”

Scars? “Trust me, honey, someone like me has a lot of those.”

Birthmarks? “Wouldn’t you like to see?”

Tattoos? “None. Yet.”

Physical handicaps? “Non-existent.”

Type of clothes? “Depends on what kind of mood I’m in.”

How do you wear your clothes? “I’m guilty of a little tailoring if needed.”

What are your feet like? “What the fuck? Weirdo. Good enough, why? You want pictures?”

Race / Ethnicity? “Half black, half white.”

Mannerisms? “I’m a shifter. Always moving my weight from one leg to the other.”

Are you in good health? “Better be. I ain’t worked my ass off for nothing.”

Do you have any disabilities? “No.”

PERSONALITY

What words or phrases do you overuse? “Fuck, shit, Hell, ass, damn. Bitch too, if you catch me in a bad mood.”

Do you have a catchphrase? “What kind of cheesy ass bullshit would that be?”

Are you more optimistic or pessimistic? “Pessimistic.”

Are you introverted or extroverted? “Introverted.”

Do you ever put on airs? “Sometimes it’s necessary.”

What bad habits do you have? “Saying inappropriate things at inappropriate times. Wanting to punch something when I get pissed.”

What makes you laugh out loud? “People falling. Gets me every time.”

How do you display affection? “I don’t.”

Mental handicaps? “Listen, if I didn’t have any of those after my childhood, I’d be fucking unstoppable, huh?”

How do you want to be seen by others? “Important.”

How do you see yourself? “Lost.”

How are you seen by others? “Intimidating.”

Strongest character trait? “My independence.”

Weakest character trait? “My stubbornness.”

How competitive are you? “Hella.”

Do you make snap judgements or take time to consider? “I make snap judgements. I’m working on it, alright?”

How do you react to praise? “If I ever get any, I’ll let you know.”

How do you react to criticism? “I either get pissed or I try to do better. Or both. Usually both.”

What is your greatest fear? “That I can’t stop myself from turning into my mom.”

What are your biggest secrets? “I’ve done a lot of shit I’ll never repeat. I can’t.”

What is your philosophy of life? “I don’t know anymore. I’m just trying to go day by day.”

When was the last time you cried? “When I ended up at Kiara’s after beating the shit out of some poor girl in a club. First and last time I ever remember crying.”

What haunts you? “My past. A lot of it.”

What are your political views? “Anyone but Scar.”

What will you stand up for? “My beliefs, no matter how twisted or wrong or confused they may be. I think I’ve proved that point.”

Who do you quote? “No one.”

Are you indoorsy or outdoorsy? “Outdoorsy. I hate being inside too long. It feels like being a wild animal trapped in some tiny enclosure. I can’t stand it.”

What is your sinful little habit? “Oh, baby, I’ve got plenty of those.”

What sense do you most rely on? “You have to rely on all of them to get by. You can’t pick and choose. You have to keep them all sharp.”

How do you treat people better than them? “Excuse me? Who are you saying is better than me? At what?”

How do you treat people worse than them? “Depends what they’re worse at.”

What quality do you most value in a friend? “If I had friends, I assume it would be loyalty.”

What do you consider an overrated virtue? “Kindness.”

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? “I’d like to be content in my skin, not have to strive for approval anymore. It’s a hard habit o shake.”

What is your obsession? “Knives. God, I love knives.”

What are your pet peeves? “Hypocrites. Cutting in line. Loud ringers. Pop music. Too much traffic. Goody two shoes.”

What are your idiosyncrasies? “I lick my lips too damn much.”

FRIENDS AND FAMILY

Is your family big or small? Who does it consist of? “As far as I’m concerned, there’s Nuka. That’s it.”

What is your perception of family? “It’s fucked up, it’s a trap, and you’re better off if you never have any.”

Do you have siblings? Older or younger? “Two brothers. I’m the middle child.”

Describe your best friend. “I don’t have one.”

Ideal best friend? “Someone that wouldn’t annoy the Hell out of me.”

Describe your other friends. “I don’t have friends.”

Describe your acquaintances. “Okay, those. They’re cool. I’d put Penelope, Sadie and my boss on that list.” 

Do you have any pets? “No.”

Who are your natural allies? “My brother.”

Who are your surprising allies? “I guess you could say Kiara.”

PAST AND FUTURE

What were you like as a baby? As a child? “Fucked up. I didn’t play with other kids. I wasn’t allowed to have friends. I went to school, I trained, I went to bed. A lot of times without dinner. I spent I don’t know how many nights listening to gunshots hoping we weren’t next. So, yeah. Fucked up.”

Did you grow up rich or poor? “Poor.”

Did you grow up nurtured or neglected? “What do you think?”

What is the most offensive thing you ever said? “How long do you got?”

What is your greatest achievement? “Making it out of that shithole alive.”

What was your first kiss like? “It wasn’t even a first kiss, it was a make out session during sex. I’ve never been kissed just to be kissed.”

What is the worst thing you did to someone you loved? “I let my family treat Nuka like shit, then I let him leave and I didn’t follow. I didn’t check up on him. I guess I thought… I guess I didn’t realize I had a choice, or how clear the right one was. There’s no excuse. I should’ve stood up for him.”

What are your ambitions? “I just want to do better.”

What advice would you give your younger self? “Run. As soon as you can, run as far as you can get. It has to be better than this.”

What smells remind you of your childhood? “Copper, mildew, sulfur and smoke.”

What was your childhood ambition? “To make mama and Scar proud.”

What is your best childhood memory? “You’re going to think I’m shitting you if I say I don’t have one, but I don’t have one.”

What is your worst childhood memory? “Oh, those, I’ve got a whole notebook of those.”

Did you have an imaginary childhood friend? “No.”

When was the last time you were crushed with disappointment? “When I was told to leave. Do you know what it feels like realizing your entire life was a goddamn lie? It’s maddening.”

What past act are you most ashamed of? “Thinking it was okay to live the way I was living.”

What past act are you most proud of? “Deciding I was going to move and move on. It took a push, but I decided to be a bigger person. I did that.”

Has anyone ever saved your life? “More than a few times. Where I grew up, if you’re not saving one another, you’re all fucked.”

Strongest childhood memory? “It was storming. We didn’t have any candles or lamps or nightlights. I remember wanting to run to Kovu’s room. I was so scared I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I was just a kid… but I wasn’t allowed to be scared. So I laid there watching the lightning until I fell asleep.”

LOVE

Do you believe in love at first sight? “No.”

Are you in a relationship? “No.”

How do you behave in a relationship? “I wouldn’t know.”

When did you last have sex? “It’s been… what, a week?”

What sort of sex do you have? “I’m a little kinky. I’ll leave it at that.”

Have you ever been in love? “Hell no.”

Have you ever had your heart broken? “If you want to call it that.”

CONFLICT

How do you respond to a threat? “Threaten back.”

Are you most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue? “Fists, but I can multitask if you want to keep it interesting.”

What is your kryptonite? “A hot girl. I’m putty in her hands.”

If you could only save one thing from your burning house, what would it be? “I don’t have anything worth saving.”

How do you perceive strangers? “Threats until proven otherwise.”

What do you love to hate? “Cockiness. It can be pretty damn sexy.”

What are your phobias? “I don’t have any.”

What is your choice of weapon? “Guns are more effective, but I’m a knife kid through and through.”

What living person do you most despise? “Zira.”

Have you ever been bullied or teased? “Kids were too afraid of me to tease me.”

Where do you go when you’re angry? “I’m trying to remember to just go away. Take a deep breath, count to ten, chill the fuck out. It’s really fucking hard.”

Who are your enemies and why? “The outsiders. I wasted two decades fighting tooth and nail for them. I put my life on the line. I gave them everything I had and more, and they turned their back on me. They can all rot in Hell.”

WORK, EDUCATION AND HOBBIES

What is your current job? “I’m a bartender at the Pit Stop.”

What do you think about their current job? “It’s not a bad job. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not glamorous, but it pays the bills. The guy hired me on the spot. No experience. No nothing. I’ve got a lot of respect for Mr. McQueen.”

What are some of your past jobs? “You don’t wanna know.”

What are your hobbies? “It all revolves around combat training.”

Educational background? “High school GED.”

Intelligence level? “Higher than yours.”

Do you have any specialist training? “Twenty fucking years of it.”

Do you have a natural talent for something? “Yeah, martial arts and spear throwing.”

Do you play a sport? Are you any good? “I don’t play any sports, but trust me, I’d be good.”

What is your socioeconomic status? “I got too much other shit to worry about. Check back in a year or two.”

FAVORITES

What is your favorite animal? “Lions.”

Which animal do you dislike the most? “Giraffes. What do they even do with those long ass necks? Eat leaves? What a waste.”

What place would you most like to visit? “Africa.”

What is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen? “Don’t you dare laugh at me. I’ll fuck you up. There’s something about sunsets that always stops me in my tracks. I’m serious, not a giggle.”

What is your favorite song? “I don’t listen to music.”

Music, art, reading preferred? “Art.”

What is your favorite color? “Red.”

What is your password? “And why would I tell you that?” (576342rtsyssy572xlc2l)

Favorite food: “I’m partial to steak.”

What is your favorite work of art? “Dunno.”

Who is your favorite artist? “Dunno times two.”

What is your favorite day of the week? “There’s something about Thursdays that just feel right.”

POSSESSIONS

What is in your fridge? “I’m not gonna lie, it’s running low right now. I know there’s some strawberries and half a carton of milk left, probably not much else of mine.”

What is on your bedside table? “Glass of water, earbuds, phone charger, pocket knife, wallet. There’s a pistol in the drawer, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

What is in your car? “Don’t have one, but I left a spare charger in Nuka’s.”

What is in your bin? “It’s empty.”

What is in your purse or wallet? “ID. Fake ID, just in case. Cash. Debit card, credit card. Some grocery rewards card I got talked into signing up for. Oh, and a coupon for Fudge Stripes, I need to remember to get those before it expires.”

What is in your pockets? “A knife.”

What is your most treasured possession? “My most expensive sword. It’s not that expensive, I found it at a thrift store, but I fixed that baby up.”

SPIRITUALITY

Who or what is your guardian angel? “I’m not buying that I have one.”

Do you believe in the afterlife? “There’s gotta be something. There’s too many people I know that deserve to burn in Hell.”

What are your religious views? “Don’t really have any.”

What do you think heaven is? “Dunno.”

What do you think hell is? “A well deserved torture chamber.”

Are you superstitious? “Eh.”

What would you like to be reincarnated as? “Some big cat. That’d be really fucking cool. If not a lion, a tiger or a cougar or something. But not in a zoo. Hell no.”

How would you like to die? “I hope I go out in a blaze of glory.”

What is your spirit animal? “Lioness.”

What is your zodiac sign? “Leo.”

VALUES

What do you think is the worst thing that can be done to a person? “Taking everything from them.”

What is your view of ‘freedom’? “Not being forced to do anyone’s biding.”

When did you last lie? “It’s been awhile now.”

What’s your view of lying? “Don’t lie to me. Sometimes it’s gotta be done. But don’t you dare lie to me.”

When did you last make a promise? “I don’t make promises.”

Did you keep or break their last promise? “I’d probably break them. That’s why I don’t make promises.”

DAILY LIFE

What are your eating habits? “I have trouble remembering to eat, so sit’s a little sketchy, I’m working on it.”

Do you have any allergies? “Nope.”

Describe your home. “It’s not much, but it’s more than I’ve ever had.”

Are you a minimalist or a clutter hoarder? “I’m a minimalist.”

What do you do first thing on a weekday morning? “Look outside.”

What do you do on a Sunday afternoon? “Work, usually.”

What do you do on a Friday night? “Stay up too late.”

What is your soft drink of choice? “I don’t like soda.”

What is your alcoholic drink of choice? “I lack too much experience to choose.”

MISCELLANEOUS

What or who would you dress up as for Halloween? “Dressed up as a kickboxer once, I think that’s it.”

Are you comfortable with technology? “Yeah. I guess. What does that mean?”

If you could save one person, who would it be? “Nuka.”

If you could call one person for help, who would it be? “Nuka.”

What is your greatest extravagance? “Don’t have much of one.”

What is your greatest regret? “Wasting so much of my life to come out empty handed.”

What is your perception of redemption? “All I know is I’m trying.”

What would you do if you won the lottery? “Buy Nuka and I a real place instead of an apartment.”

What is your favorite fairytale? “Hansel and Gretel.”

What fairytale do you hate? “Jack and the Beanstalk. It’s fucking stupid.”

Do you believe in happy endings? “No.”

What is your idea of perfect happiness? “I don’t know if it exists.”

What would you ask a fortune teller? “Where do I end up?”

If you could travel through time, where would you go? “Back to the start. Redo it all. Right this time.”

What sport do you excel at? “Never played much sports.”

What sport do you suck at? “I don’t.”

If you could have a superpower, what would you choose? “Shapeshifting. That’d be fucking cool. Turn into a mouse, squeeze in a crack, turn into a bear and rip someone’s fucking face off if you need to.”

#take a shot every time they use a swear word ... #walttasks #tasks.

[lovelivingmydreams]

A story by heroes and villains

Janus Bullard: Drift away

When you don't let people close, they tend to drift away. Janus seems to struggle to understand that.

Masterlist

When sophomore year started, Janus had few comforts in their lives. One, Virgil and uncle Lo and their parents. Their constant pillars of support and comfort. And two, they were really good at languages. Which boosted their confidence quite a bit. They breezed through the curriculum for Spanish of last year and studied the rest of the material in their free time, because learning it was fun to them. They already knew French, and by the time finals rolled around they got to take a special test that had effectively gotten them a free period where their language elective should be for the rest of high school. The school prided themselves on adjusting the curriculum to the level of the students. And the best performing students even got to go on a weeklong trip after finals were over. The rest of the school had showcase week. Which meant that all the clubs and electives got to show off their stuff. Janus was not particularly interested in the showcase. He didn’t participate in anything and he knew no one who would be showing anything. So he chose to go on the trip. Virgil didn’t come along despite qualifying. He didn’t want to leave his dad by himself for that long. It was very sweet really. Janus would have argued against it, but it occurred to them that maybe if they were away from Virgil for a bit, then the feelings would calm down and they could just come out and get back to normal without Virgil having to learn that they ever were attracted to him in the first place. It didn’t work. They missed Virgil a lot, to start with. Missing makes the heart grow fonder indeed. It really drove home for him how much he couldn’t stand to lose his friend. On top of that the guys that were with them on the trip were… not the best company to keep. It all started out well. Virgil had made him a special shirt to congratulate him with passing his advanced Language exams. It was a black shirt with a yellow print. A minimalistic open snake mouth on their chest with ‘hiss hiss’ above it. Scales scattered along the left side to match their marks. They loved it. It was a reference to Remus’ old nickname for them. ‘Snakeface’. From anyone else it would have been an insult. But Remus meant it as a complement. Their travel companions, from schools all over the city thought it looked bad ass. It was a great ice breaker if nothing else when they wore it on the first day. That didn’t last long though. On the second night they were talking with the other guys in the boys dormitory. One mentioned a cousin of theirs came out not too long ago. “And his folks actually let him stay. My parents cut ties right away. Can’t believe I used to play ball with a twink.” Janus just barely managed to hide how the word hit them. The other guys agreed and, as much as they hated it, so did they. To say that that was the last time they were confronted with the fact that if these guys were to get to know the real them, they’d make their week hell, would be a lie. And as they heard slurs and jokes about the LGBTQ+ community tossed around as if it was nothing, they started to wonder. Would their parents be okay with it? They thought they would. They’d never seemed to be against the community. They recalled hearing their mother gush about the cute pride stuff they’d spotted in the mall a few times. But accepting that other people were queer and accepting that their son was sometimes more like a daughter and also gay and aromantic… That was something entirely different. And Virgil? Saying you don’t care and actually having to live with the knowledge that your best friend was… broken… What kind of freak were they even that they couldn’t pick a gender? Why couldn’t they fall in love like normal teens? Virgil’d had plenty of crushes already. He’d admitted he hadn’t even told them about all of them! So clearly it wasn’t that hard. Except for them. Because they had to be messed up in every way possible. The way they looked, the way they felt, what they were… When they got home Virgil was at their bedroom door almost within ten minutes of them putting their bag down. “You’re back!” he grinned, excited to see them again. “Tell me everything! Was it worth it letting me die of boredom?” he teased, throwing an arm over their shoulder in a sort of sideways hug. Janus flinched away from Virgil’s proximity. Being close to him made them want to be closer. But still not in the way Virgil might understand. If they just kept him on arm’s length, then things would be ok… Right? Virgil let them go. It didn’t look like he found it odd that Janus wanted distance. Janus tried to remember last time he’d initiated a hug or anything of the sort… With anyone… Maybe they had been a little more distant lately as it was. Good, then it wouldn’t be too obvious if they pushed a little more. They had to. To protect Virgil, to keep him in their life. No one could know. They couldn’t risk it. “It was cool. Saw lots of awesome stuff. The guys were dumb though. Guess no one can replace you,” they smiled carefully. “Aw, J. You’re such a sap,” Virgil teased with a playful punch to the arm. Was that bad? Did straight guys say stuff like that to their friends? Were they being obvious? “Shut up,” he retorted with a push. Not mean. Just playful. That was still okay right? “Movie night?” Virgil suggested, holding up his bag with his part of their collection. Janus hesitated. They needed time. “I’m beat. Maybe some other time,” they shrugged. Virgil nodded. “Okay. See you later J!” And just like that Virgil was out the door. They let themselves fall onto their bed. They had to figure themselves out. Again. Summer passed and Janus found a system that worked for them. It wasn’t great, but it would have to do. They had bought a few cute tops they enjoyed on Janice days. So they wore those when they were needed underneath a baggy hoodie or something else that would hide it. If there was a chance of them needing to take off said ‘cover item’ they’d wear a shirt that was too big like the band shirt. In addition they made sure to act plenty masculine on those days. They hated that part the most. But it was needed. When it came to Virgil, since their problem was just physical all they had to do was make sure they weren’t too close. Which was easier said and done. Hugs and pats on the back and the like used to reassure them so much and now they were a risk. Even if they never acted on the thoughts when they appeared, Virgil might notice. So they had a plan. Not the best plan. But to keep Virgil with them. To keep them both safe. They would do it. First day of school came around and Janice found themself alone at the bus stop. Which was odd. Virgil wasn’t usually late… Maybe he accidently took a bus too early again. Was that going to be a first day tradition? Janice couldn’t be too upset by that. It was just so typically Virgil, and they already looked forward to teasing him about it later. What wasn’t typically Virgil however was him not texting Janice to let them know his mix up. Maybe he hadn’t realized he was early yet? Janice wondered if they should ask Virgil where he was… Better not. They’d see Virgil soon enough. And he’d probably feel bad if they made too big a deal out of it. Again, typical for Virgil, making everything his fault or responsibility somehow. When they got to school though, Virgil was nowhere to be found. He wasn’t in their homeroom either. Which Janice wouldn’t have found too odd. There was always a chance of homeroom getting switched around. But then the teacher handed them two schedules. One for themself and one for Virgil. Virgil was late? Was he sick? Janice looked at the schedules. They shared their first two classes and then they had language electives. Which meant Janice would have a free period while Virgil should be in Spanish. They promised themself to call if Virgil hadn’t shown up by then. Two hours late was a reasonable time to get worried right? They checked their phone as they walked to science class and took a seat. Virgil hadn’t texted at all. Was he ill? Should they text anyway? “Mr. Johnson. You may take a seat next to Mr. Bullard. Class will commence soon.” Janice, mentally cringing at the male honorific, glanced at the kid that just entered. Ugh, they remembered him. He’d had a locker not too far from his last year. He always got in their way, the amount of times he’d bumped into them was infuriating. And now he was about to take Virgil’s seat. But not if they could help it. “Ma’am, I was actually saving this seat for…” “No one. This is my class and I say Mr. Johnson sits next to you.” Janice was taken aback. Most teachers at least heard them out if he asked something. And in almost every case he got what he needed even if he didn’t always get what he wanted. This one didn’t even want to listen though. They glared at the boy… Carlton, if they remembered correctly, as he took the seat next to them. The boy shrunk away, he was trembling… Janice supposed they had been pretty rude to him last year. Not that they cared. It just would make being desk mates very annoying. Janice didn’t waste time on wanting others to like them.

“It’s your lucky day Mr. Castile,” the teacher said dryly the second the bell rang. No… Janice looked up, there he was. The school’s golden boy. He looked slightly out of breath, and smiled sheepishly. “Apologies miss,” he replied as he looked around, probably looking for an empty seat. For a moment his eyes found Janice and he was clearly about as happy as they were with Janice being here on the seat right behind the only empty bench. Janice had an extra reason to be upset though. Castile would be sitting next to Virgil. He took the seat next to the window, right in front of Janice. Janice’s thoughts were racing. How were they supposed to function with that idiot around? They hadn’t had to interact with him too often last year. And when they did Janice had made sure he knew that they saw right through the knight in shining armor act he put up for the rest of the school. He only acted like that to impress their classmates. He was in theatre. He lived for the praise. “I hope you like where you are sitting… Ah, so glad you could join us Mr. Anker.” Janice tensed up when they saw the way Castile’s head snapped up, a bright smile on their face. It was such a genuine reaction… Why though? He had enough friends. Why was Virgil so important that he seemed genuinely happy to see him? “Take your seat and spare me your excuses,” the teacher snapped when Virgil opened his mouth to speak. “I was just telling the class that these are your seats for the rest of the year. So I hope you like your neighbor, they are your new lab partner.” Virgil’s face fell and he looked around. His make up was gone and he looked a mess, but other than that he seemed fine. Janice would have to ask him what had happened this morning later. To their annoyance, Virgil’s gaze didn’t even make it to their seat. Once he spotted the empty seat next to Castile, he too, lit up. Why? What did Castile have that was so special? Other than a pretty face? They watched Castile wave at Virgil, getting rewarded with a smile from their best friend.

“Man, talk about a lucky break,” Virgil said as he sat down. That hurt. Didn’t he want to sit with them? They tried to calm themselves. Virgil had simply not noticed them. He wouldn’t have said that if he knew they were in this class too. “I agree,” Castile grinned. That smug piece of… He knew they were here. He was taunting them! Class started, and Janice managed to ignore the pair in front of them. They even calmed down. Found themselves a little amused at their neighbor’s not so subtle glances at the desk in front of them. They’d spotted the pride flag stitched in their assigned lab partner’s pencil case. Maybe they should lay off a little. Poor kid had a crush on Roman Castile. He had enough to deal with. But then the experiment started. They divided the work so Johnson wouldn’t have to talk with them too much. they did their best to focus on their part of the assignment. But it proved difficult. Virgil and Roman were doing every step together and they were having fun. They talked and joked with familiarity that told Janice that somehow, Castile had managed to weasel his way into Virgil’s life, despite their efforts to chase him away. Sure they’d overheard from conversations in the hallways that Virgil was still standing up to bullies and that the Hispanic teen had joined him on occasion. But had that really been all it took? Suddenly Virgil got up, bringing a paper to the front. Damn, they had to focus. They managed to block out their surroundings for a good while. Until Virgil’s laugh pulled them out. He was looking very comfortable, sitting there with the enemy.

“Only you can pull of talking like a Shakespeare character,” Virgil grinned. “Well, only you can pull off dressing like a dark knight and still looking like a lost kitten,” Castile shot back. Janice tensed. How dare he ridicule their best friend like that? Virgil gave Roman a shove. “You take that back!” he demanded “I am dark and mysterious and intimidating!” Janice had to interfere, before Virgil got himself in trouble. they took an empty page from their notebook, crushed it in their fist and tossed it against Castile’s head. Both boys turned to look at them. Their attention was on Castile though. “What gives Bullard?” he hissed. No, it wasn’t attractive when he got that serious and intense look in his eyes. He was annoying and a danger. He was going to hurt Virgil. Or take him away and then hurt him. “You take Smellington next time. Virgil is sitting with me.” It was a good solution. Castile would be unable to resist being a knight in shining armor, so Janice acted as if they were the big bad Johnson had to be saved from. Carlton got to sit next to his crush, and Janice and Virgil could sit together. Like they should have been. Everyone happy. “Excuse me? His name is Carlton.” Just as Janice suspected. There was the hero complex. “And you don’t get to say where I sit J. I’m fine sitting with Roman. Besides you heard the teacher. No switching seats.” That… What? Virgil wanted to sit there? And he was offended that Janice tried to help? “We always sit together!” they reminded him. They were a team right? Them against the world? They’d have each other’s back no matter what… Right? Virgil’s jaw set. “Exactly. The world won’t end because I’m Roman’s lab partner J.” Where was all this coming from? What had Castile been poisoning his mind with? “Am I interrupting?” Janice looked up to the teacher. She still didn’t look like she was in the mood to listen to Janice. But they had to try. “Mr. Bullard,” once again, that stung. “I don’t have you and Mr. Jonson’s assignment yet, which means you can’t be talking with anyone else besides each other right now.” Oh, she really wasn’t in the mood to listen. Against better judgement, Janice gave her their most charming smile. If they knew that they were being perfectly reasonable, people usually followed along with their way of thinking. “Ma’am, I can’t work with him. Virgil and I never had a problem in projects, can’t we…” “No.” Janice nearly flinched at the finality of that word. But the teacher wasn’t done yet. “I put Mr. Jonson next to you because you are much too dependent on Mr. Anker’s presence.” She’d done it on purpose? And dependent? What did she mean? They weren’t that… Had it been so obvious to outsiders? Did she know? “You won’t always be able to hide behind him Mr. Bullard. You better learn that now.” They hadn’t! They’d stopped hiding in middle school. They’d been trying to be the shield! “And if I see any more problems here then all that’ll change is that Mr. Castile and Mr. Anker will be moved to the front of the class so you can’t distract them anymore. Is that understood?” She had it all wrong. She didn’t understand. But Janice knew they couldn’t do anything about it. So they nodded and returned their attention to their assignment.

They finished up the last of their notes when Virgil laughed again. “Charming huh? You certainly have a high opinion of yourself.” Janice’s jaw clenched. They agreed, but Virgil’s tone was too playful. Like it was when he was teasing them. “Oh, my knight, why must you hurt me so?” Castile objected dramatically. Janice did their best to block out the rest of the conversation and focus on finishing the assignment with Johnson. Whatever was said between Castile and Virgil after that, it had him pretty excited.

He dragged Janice to the bathroom where he started to apply foundation and a two second version of his usual eyeshadow. “Where were you?” Janice asked on their way there. Virgil bit his lip. “Dad was home late yesterday and forgot to tell me…” he told them. Oh, now Janice understood. Virgil was the kind of guy who saw you fall and worried if you’d broken something while rushing you to the nurse no matter what you said. He worried a lot. He was a lot like uncle Lo in that way. His father not being his punctual self without warning must’ve been very stressful. “And you didn’t go to bed until you were sure he was safe and sound,” Janice nodded in understanding. “Yeah… I must’ve forgotten to set my alarm or something.” At this point they’d arrived in the bathroom and Virgil took out his foundation and started fixing up his appearance. Needlessly in Janice’s opinion, but they had bigger things to worry about.

“Listen, I’m sorry for being so snappy earlier. I know you worry about me and stuff but Roman is really not as bad as you think. He even invited us to sit with him and his friends during lunch!” he announced excitedly as he put away his make-up. “Then you'll see for yourself…” Lunch with Roman Castile and all his friends? All people who could discover their secrets? One slip up on a Janice day, one lingering look towards Virgil or Castile and they were out.

And being around not one, but two guys they found attractive… they couldn't bear it.

“Absolutely not!” they objected in a panic. “Jan, it’s just lunch,” Virgil argued gently. “If it’s not fun then we can bail on them any time. You are the one who’s so obsessed with our spot on the social ladder. What do we have to lose?” He made good points. And part of Janice wanted the protection a group like that offered. But Virgil didn't have the full picture. Janice cast their eyes to the heavens trying to hide the conflict within, to play off how worried and scared they felt. “I don’t expect you to understand this Virgil. But the offer wasn’t for us. Castile wants something from you. And he’ll have his friends be nice to me around you to get it.”

Virgil was clearly not impressed. “I know I’m not exactly mister sunshine, but that’s overly dramatic and pessimistic. Roman is cool. Like, genuinely. And if you gave him a chance…” “Oh please Virgil! You are not this naïve!” Janice exclaimed. Harsh in their desperation to finish the conversation.

“Why do you want his friendship so badly that you blind yourself like this?” Weren't they enough? What did they do wrong? “He can have anything from anyone he wants! Why would he want to be around some awkward outcasts?” Why did he insist on pursuing the only person Janus cared about at school? “Except to make himself look good? What end does that serve? Everything anyone ever does serves some selfish end Virgil. Even the most noble of deeds are ultimately out of desire to be seen as good.” Just because Janus hadn’t figured out what Roman Castile had to gain from talking to them, didn’t mean that there wasn’t some end goal. “Except for you of course, you only have my best interest at heart!?” Virgil’s statement caught them of guard. He had a point. Part of this was their fear of being alone, being found out and rejected. But it was also for Virgil's own good. They needed Virgil to understand that. To believe them. And so they did something they had been avoiding. They got close. Stepped right into Virgil's personal space. If they wanted, and Virgil hadn’t hidden them behind his foundation, they could’ve counted the freckles on Virgil’s cheeks. But now was no time for those observations. They had to get through to him. No matter what. “You are my only friend Virgil. Of course I want to protect you, even from yourself. Don’t let Roman’s flowery words and cute pet names get to you.” Kitten, knight. The nerve of that guy. “I give him a week before he gets bored of you. And I don’t want to see you hurt by that.” That last part was the most sincere he'd been about how he felt towards Virgil in what felt like forever.

All fight left Virgil’s frame and he nodded. Janice relaxed and led the way to their first CPR training. They made sure to wait for Virgil when he left Spanish. Virgil was quiet all day. He got like that sometimes after a disagreement. Janice tried to give him space. They had been a little harsh. And after Virgil had a rough night already. They knew he needed comfort and support on those days. No wonder he’d gravitated towards Castile this morning. All that positive energy probably drew Virgil in like a moth to a flame. Janice should have been more understanding. Maybe they could have a movie night next weekend. With V's favorite snacks and movies.

They’d make it up to him. And then they could get back to something somewhat normal.

It worked. Virgil seemed in better spirits after they suggested the weekend plans. Janus paid closer attention and ensured that Virgil wouldn't fall for Castile's tricks though.

They stuck together like always. Janus had started chatting with native Spanish speakers, learning more regional words and slang. They were also learning ASL. Virgil laughed when they explained the name signs they made up for him, uncle Lo and their parents.

Things were going well. Until Halloween came around. Virgil loved Halloween. He didn’t show it off at school, considering he put the least possible effort in his school costume the past two years, but when at home, he was a master. Janus had enjoyed watching him and uncle Lo dazzle the trick or treaters. They’d considered asking Virgil to give them a spook up as well, but that would mean close proximity for extended periods of time. And they couldn’t handle that. This year Janus had drawn some scales on their face and assembled a dragon costume. They’d even gotten crafty with the wings. Using a pair of children’s fairy wings as a base. Virgil had complemented them, which had made them feel pretty good about themselves. Virgil was texting with his dad that morning. Apparently he had a thing coming up that weekend and was rather nervous. Janus was happy to hear that their honorary uncle had exciting things happen in his life. They didn’t pry for more information though. Surely Virgil would’ve shared more if there was more to know. And then Castile had walked in. Looking ridiculously handsome even if he was trying to look like a crazed dark prince. Redish circles under his eyes, run out make up. As if he’d recently cried a river. His costume was dark and slightly torn and crumpled. And still he looked good. He made a big show of his entrance and made a tour around the classroom before climbing on his desk and continuing his tale of conquest. Janus, not immune to the boy’s massive charisma, made sure to glare at him so that if the prince would happen to glance their direction he wouldn’t give anything away. Glaring at the dark prince wasn’t hard, considering he also had his neighbor’s attention. Virgil was enjoying the show.

And apparently Castile noticed. He made a grand gesture towards Virgil. “And you, my coldhearted friend, may rule at my side!” Janus’ eyes narrowed. Was this the thing? Was Roman looking for a second in command? It was a good picture they supposed. The nickname ‘Knight’ suddenly made a lot of sense. It would fit. They both stood against the bullies, no doubt earning them both a good image in the public eye. If they were considered a team all the time, Roman’s spot on the social ladder would get even more secure. Was that it? “Is that a fact?” Virgil chuckled, pulling Janus out of his thoughts. Was he… Was he seriously going along with it? “Of course!” Janus hated how excited Castile seemed. “You, dear count, are the only other of noble lineage! No one else is worthy of a throne!” “But ruling sounds like a lot of work,” Virgil whined. Janus held their breath… But the laughter that followed… Wasn’t bad. Castile immediately rolled with Virgil’s contribution. “Then you may feast on my enemies!” To Janus’ great relief, the teacher entered in that moment. Their nerves couldn’t take much more than that. On the way to CPR Janus tried to get Virgil back with his feet on the ground. “You were lucky, but that could have gone so wrong!” they exclaimed. Virgil, surprised them however. “Roman and I are lab partners, and we’re going to talk,” Virgil reminded them. They knew that. But they got on fine with minimal communication with their neighbor. And Virgil had been doing fine too… Or… Well, maybe he hadn’t been happy about it… “And sometimes we’re going to have fun doing so. You have zero right to tell me who I can and can’t spend time with. I’m not your pet.” That hit Janus hard… Was that… Had they been acting that badly? Maybe they’d been too clingy. Overcompensating for the physical distance they’d forced themselves to maintain? They let Virgil walk to Spanish alone and spent their free hour thinking things through. Maybe they were a tad controlling… And Virgil talking to Castile a little during science might not be the end of the world… They could try to live with that right? When they saw Castile drag Virgil to his table during lunch they could barely breathe. Virgil looked so happy about it too. Had they been too late to make adjustments? Was this their life now? The very nightmare they’d tried to prevent? But then, Virgil and Roman made a bow and Virgil walked back to Janus. People watched him walk by the way Janus had seen them do with popular kids. They admired him? Was… Had Virgil become a popular kid without either of them realizing? “Talk about putting yourself on blast! What were you thinking?” they snapped, still reeling with emotions. “Yolo,” Virgil shrugged. And ‘cool’ was the only term Janus could come up with to describe the way he held himself right now. “No one says that anymore,” Janus pointed out, as if to convince themself that Virgil wasn’t that kind of cool. “It’s what I was thinking.” Or maybe he was… Janus tried not to bother Virgil about who he chose to hang out with after that day. It wasn’t easy though. Virgil and Castile were almost flirty with each other and Janus found that very distracting. Add that to everything else that frustrated them and you better hope you didn’t cross Janus on a Janice day after a bad night. They picked a lot of fights. Partly to prove themselves as a cis. Partly to vent these frustrations on something other than Castile. Speaking off. It was nearly always him or Virgil or both who stopped the fight. Roman would stare them down until they left. Virgil would tell them off and drag them away if need be. Both were… possibly… another reason why they picked a fight. Negative attention was still attention after all. On a particular bad day, a senior decided to pick on them. And they were not having it.

Castile and Virgil put a stop to that one. But the principal called them to their office anyway. “He started it,” Janice insisted. They were sitting in the office for a couple of minutes now, with the Principal just looking at them expectantly. “Oh? How’s that?” Janice gestured to their face. They’d gotten good at ignoring the jabs the past few years. Knowing that they couldn’t do anything against an upper classman and having bigger things to worry about. But today… Today it had just been too much. “It’s not the first time you got into a fight Janus. We want to help. But you have to let us. What is bothering you? Really. Why are you so angry?”

Oh, where to start? Janice just shrugged, not comfortable opening that can of worms in front of this adult. They wouldn’t understand. Janus heard they’d been vocal about their sexuality and gender since middle school. All they would do was tell them to just come out already. The principal sighed. “We’ll have to inform your parents of this Janus…” “No you don’t,” Janice stated. He wasn’t even scared. Stokes was a reasonable person. “Why’s that?” They wondered. “I didn’t hit him. And he didn’t hit me. No one got hurt. What’s the point of calling my parents? My grades are good, I never skip. So I don’t let people walk over me… Is that so bad?” they explained. Stokes frowned, but then relaxed. “Fine. But at least consider going to the school counselor. At least once. There are systems here to help you. You just have to ask.” Yeah, they’d get right on that. “Tanks Mx. Stokes,” they muttered as they left. A few weeks later Janus was looking over elective courses with Virgil. Janus had been careful about selecting courses for them. They could pick two courses each year. One every semester. First year, Virgil had made a deep dive into some articles about how messed up the education system was and how useless the curriculum was. So Janus suggested Personal Finances and Home economics. Which was basically the: ‘how to adult’ elective packet. This year they’d picked CPR, which Virgil had enjoyed a lot and Philosophy. They’d suggested it out of personal interest. They’d known it might not be Virgil’s cup of tea, but to their pleasant surprise Virgil had agreed. “Sociology would be a good choice,” Janus suggested, testing the waters. They really hoped Virgil would be okay with it. It seemed very interesting. Virgil only made a vague sound of acknowledgement though. Well, there were other interesting subjects… “I was thinking to take an art elective,” he told Janus after a few moments. Janus was surprised. Virgil never cared about electives before. And art? “Why?” “Because I’d like to actually learn some techniques? I dunno. They say to pick something that fits our interests. I’m interested in art.” Janus had no idea where the annoyed tone came from. Sure Virgil drew and he was good. But… To make it your elective? Virgil knew that those choices would affect their chances at getting accepted into college right? Especially for the next two years. “But we can’t do anything with that in college,” they reminded him, just in case. “I suppose it’s a decent extracurricular,” they admitted, wanting to find a compromise. But saying that reminded them. They should probably pick some good ones for the next two years as well. They looked good on application forms.

“But…” Virgil objected interrupting Janus’ musings on the pro and cons of joining a sports team. “I really want to do art. The new teacher is a pretty awesome artist I’ve been kind of following for a while. This might be my only chance to learn from him.” The arts program was heavily volunteer based, which allowed the school to offer many different electives and even more extracurricular. The teachers largely donated their time and switched around semester to semester. If this artist was indeed someone of note, they might be gone after Christmas. So on some level Janus understood. But why would Virgil need to spend a perfectly good elective on something he was already good at? He could probably teach the class himself. “Don’t be dramatic V. It’s not like you can make a career out of drawings,” they pointed out dismissively. Maybe they were a little crass. But Virgil couldn’t afford to live in a fantasy. Art was personal and showing it gave other people a weapon against you. And Janus really felt they should start picking electives based more on what they wanted their career to be. Janus was thinking journalist or lawyer for themselves. They weren’t sure what Virgil would pick. Last time they’d talked about such things was… Back when they still thought they were cis and straight. And they’d been joking about going into hero business. Daydreaming about opening a specialized store or becoming heroes themselves. But maybe Virgil would be a lawyer too. He’d probably like defending the little guy in the courtroom. He was already doing that in the hallways. Or some other function in law enforcement. Janus couldn’t imagine Virgil not trying to make the world a better place. “It makes me happy,” Virgil pointed out, though barely audible. Good, he was realizing there was no point to that class. “A career isn’t about what makes you happy, it’s about what gets you ahead in life.” And with that, Janus returned their attention to the electives. Not aware of the mistake they’d just made.

Mistakes

@cirishere @hestianerd1​ @moonlightshow00​ @naturallyunstablegamer​ @alias290​ @meowthefluffy​ @frida0043​ @angelic-cali​ @selenechris​ @theblackveilinreverse​

#sanders sides #ts sides #janus sanders #virgil sanders #roman sanders #background prinxiety #tw homofobia #tw seldepriciation #tw internalized homofobia #janus makes bad choices #angsty

[for-ests]

Love It If We Made It: Oikawa Tooru x Reader (Part 1)

[ my masterlist ] Part 2

Warnings: angst, few mentions of death

Word count: 5, 105

Summary: You are Karasuno's volleyball manager, and when you tag along to their first match against Aoba Johsai, you reconnect with your childhood friend, Oikawa Tooru. A relationship soon develops, along with feelings that weren't present before. Problems soon arise though, because of his reputation, and your troubled past that he didn't know about. 

Everything happens for a reason.

That's what you always told yourself, realizing that one choice you made could lead to endless possibilities and situations you never thought you would find yourself in. It was far too easy to slip up, and let the world you had spent years creating turn to dust and fall between your finger tips.

You learned that the hard way, yet you were strong enough to pick yourself back up.

Joining the Karasuno Volleyball club as their manager came out of desperation on your end. In truth, it was a favor for your friend Kiyoko, who knew you were going through a tough time. When she explained the challenges, but emphasized that she couldn't do it all herself, you decided it was a good way to take your mind off things, while also helping others. Kiyoko was quiet, but it was her way of showing you she cared, by sharing her world with you and providing an outlet.

You needed something to do. Something that you could focus your energy on to forget your ex-boyfriend, the boy that had broken your heart. Along with that emotional trauma, you also had to deal with a devastating death in your family, your younger brother. Within the blink of an eye, those two events had changed you as a person. For two months, you had locked yourself away in your room to deal with it. And those who cared for you had started to grow worried.

That's why you were beyond relieved when you first walked into that gym, bombarded by underclassmen that soon became your friends. They were so happy, they were so passionate. Their optimistic nature began to inspire you in other aspects of your life.

Knowing you had a rambunctious group of boys to take care of, all the while alongside your friend, the massive hole in your heart began to repair itself.

As the weeks passed, the bond between you and the Karasuno volleyball club grew stronger, and you found yourself falling back into your healthy habits. You were smiling again, you were laughing again.

"What are you thinking about Y/N?" Hinata surprised you suddenly with a question. He had practically teleported to your side so quickly that you jumped.

"Oh!" You laughed, looking down at him with a smile to mask the once nostalgic expression that had graced your face. "I'm just really proud of you guys for making it this far."

The two of you stared down at the polished wood floors, the rows of stands, and the many, many schools that were preparing their fan sections for their upcoming games. It was the fall tournament, and the boys had won their first couple games—but now they were going to face an strong opponent- Aoba Johsai.

"Not you guys, it's us." Hinata said, conviction heavy within his tone. "We couldn't have done this without you."

A chuckle escaped your lips as you nudged him. "You're laying it on thick today."

Grinning, the orange-haired first year gave you a thumbs up. "I just want our Senpai to know that she's appreciated."

"-you have done a lot for us." Nishinoya joined in as the rest of the group caught up with you and Hinata.

All the boys had heard about your brother's accident. The trauma of it all was still looming over your head, threatening to take over your conscious at any moment. Perhaps the boys knew that being able to help and take care of them was a replacement for the family member you had lost. It felt good to be apart of a group again, with people who appreciated your time and efforts.

"Then I hope we win today." You made sure to use the inclusive pronouns. "So you didn't waste my time!"

"There she is!" Tanaka laughed a little too loudly. "Stop looking so nervous and keep making those jokes."

"I'm not nervous." You puffed your lip out, realizing the entire team had now surrounded you.

"You look really nervous." Kageyama finally spoke in monotone, seeming to deal with his own nerves in a completely different way.

"Okay fine." You grumbled. "I'm nervous."

The boys laughed.

"Why?" Kiyoko joined the huddle, looking concerned as she gazed at your face. You were trying really hard to remain calm.

Awkwardly twirling your hair between your finger tips, you tried to avoid locking eyes with anyone. "I don't want to put pressure on any of you-"

"Just tell us, it's okay Y/N." Suga's calm and reassuring voice whispered from behind you. The look in his eyes conveyed that he already knew what you were thinking, because that was also what was on his mind. This was your last year. Your last tournament. If you lost; it would be over.

"I really need you guys to win." You said. "Because I don't want this to be our last game."

It was true, when you thought about it for long enough, the threat of your time in the Karasuno volleyball club could be over in an instant.

Kiyoko gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, knowing you had grown to love the sport, and it's players, as much as she had. This moment was bittersweet.

"We will try our best, Y/N." Hinata said without his usual smile. Whenever that happened, you knew he was serious.

A brief moment of silence hung over the group, as if their situation had finally sank in.

You finally lifted your head to meet everyone's gaze. "Thank you all, really. Being apart of this team has helped me more than I can explain."

All of the boys replied instantly, more than happy that you were there with them. You could tell you meant a lot to them. Well, except with Tsukishima— but you knew you would eventually get there.

"Alright everyone, let's get to work." Coach Ukai encouraged as the tender moment faded. "We can't disappoint our managers."

He nodded at you, and you smiled back. When you really wanted to, you were a great pep talker.

"Now, Use your looks to distract our opponents!" Tanaka teased as he walked past you. Teasingly, you stuck your foot out to try and trip him- but his fast reflexes allowed him to casually step over it.

"Nice try!" He boasted.

Giggling from the interaction, you and Kiyoko crossed the volleyball court and to the coaching staff benches.

"Third years now have the ability to participate in the spring tournaments." Kiyoko said as the guys wandered off to begin warm-ups. "So if you want to, we can come back next semester."

"Really?" You breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank God."

"I could tell you were getting sentimental."

Feigning discomfort, you slumped next to her dramatically. "Knowing that beforehand would have been nice. I just embarrassed myself in front of the team."

"I think they needed to hear that from you." She said with honesty.

The genuine expression she wore warmed your heart. You and Kiyoko were incredibly different, yet incredibly similar. You always appreciated the time you spent with her, she was an important friend.

Your eyes drifted to the opposite side of the net. The team still hadn't arrived for warm-ups.

"We're playing Aoba Johsai right?" You asked, eyes searching the gym for their supposed school colors.

"Yes." Kiyoko had already immersed herself with writing down notes on her clipboard.

The name Aoba Johsai felt so familiar, as if you knew someone who attended that high school. Yet, you couldn't quite put a finger on it.

Though you were well-known at Karasuno, you were unsure about other high schools in the area. You weren't the type of girl to care about people you didn't interact with on a daily basis, even if you were considered popular.

You just went about your days trying to be kind, and trying to make a name for yourself. The last thing you wanted to be known for was what happened earlier in the year. You didn't want to be pitied.

But sometimes, the people from your past are the only ones that can heal you. Sometimes, it's better to reflect and appreciate everything that happened, even if it hurts.

Everything happens for a reason. Even if that reason doesn't seem clear at first glance.

The gym doors squeaked open, and in waltzed Karasuno's opponent- Aoba Johsai.

Though only a portion of the fan section had arrived, excited cheers sounded from the stands. You scowled, wishing your classmates had come to support your team. It definitely would have had an effect on the players, since half of them loved praise and affection.

Starting from the bottom already put you at a disadvantage. Unlike your opponents, Karasuno had a reputation to build back up. Every game counted. Every game mattered.

With that thought in mind, you had lost focus through all the noise. You could feel your nerves creeping back, threatening to overtake your smile, one that was needed as a morale booster for your players.

"Look pretty." Kiyoko teased, mocking Tanaka's ridiculous suggestion. Not every boy got worked up about girl managers with good looks like him and Nishinoya.

But still, out of habit, you ran a hand through your hair and flipped it behind your shoulders. Though you weren't the star of the show, you could still feel eyes on your back.

You needed to keep your composure. Because of her extended time as the volleyball club manager, Kiyoko has perfected her posture.

"I'm going to get some water." You whispered, standing up from the bench. That would definitely be the best option since your throat was starting to tighten.

Walking quickly, you reached the shared water table that was provided to both teams. A great plus when participating in tournaments.

Out of curiosity, as you grabbed a water bottle and took a sip, your eyes drifted to the other side of the net, where you were met with a striking, familiar, set of deep brown eyes.

For a moment that seemed to stretch past time limitations, you stood frozen in place.

"Tooru?" You whispered, voice drowned out by the cheering and movements of the players on court.

Your heart fluttered at the sight of him. It had been years since you parted ways.

Oikawa had been staring at you before you realized it was him. His look of astonishment quickly switched to one of wonder once he realized your lips had formed his name. "Y/N?" He mouthed back, flashing his notoriously handsome smile.

Without thinking, you crossed the threshold to the other side of the court.

"Oh my god-" You managed to choke, stopping abruptly in front of his towering figure. "I never thought..."

His expression wavered, as if it was begging you to follow through with the natural actions that filled your mind.

As if you had done it the day before, you threw your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a tight embrace. For the first time in a long time, you didn't care what anyone else thought about your actions.

"Hi again." He chuckled at how rash you had become, knowing you must have been overwhelmed to see him with how openly you were showing your emotions. Curling his arms around your torso, Oikawa chuckled in your ear. "You look great."

You pulled away, studying the changes he had made to his appearance. He had grown into his stalking height, one that he used to get teased for. His hair was silkier, his eyes wiser.  "So do you!"

The boy's touch lingered. "Wow." He breathed, short on words. "I never thought I'd see you again, but I really hoped."

You met his piercing gaze, one that seemed to flicker across parts of your body that a normal friend would restrict themselves from staring.  "Me too."

Your excitement passed though, as soon as you realized that the eyes of both teams were on you. Darting your eyes away in embarrassment from your rash actions, you recognized another familiar face. The regret that had built up inside of you dissipated within an instant.

"Haijime!" You waved, beckoning him to come closer.

"Hi, Y/N." He smiled, also bending down to give you a friendly hug. A hug that was much different than Oikawa's.

Teasingly, you continued the conversation. "I see that you two are the same. Still obsessed with volleyball."

Oikawa rolled his eyes. "Duh, of course. But what's more surprising is that you're a volleyball manager?"

"Yeah, I never thought that would happen." Iwaizumi added. "We inspired you, didn't we?"

Grinning from ear to ear, you nodded, reflecting on the hours that you had practiced with them. Before you had moved, the three of you would spend hours at the gym. Joining the Karasuno volleyball club had rekindled your love for the sport. And the boys were surprised that you had so much previous knowledge, which was now obvious that it had come from Oikawa.

Though what saddened you was that you had forgotten all about that. Your wholesome memories had been replaced with something far more grim.

"Hey!" The Aoba Johsai coach yelled from the opposite side. "Get back to business, all of you!"

The three of you turned and noticed that the rest of the team had stopped what they were doing, and seemed to be gossiping about your relationship to Oikawa and Iwaizumi. You immediately blushed, your contempt flooding right back in.

"Oi! don't look at her like that! She's not a piece of meat!" Oikawa pointed aggressively at his teammates, causing them to scatter and pretend they had been invested in their warm up practices the entire time.

"You're just mad that everyone is staring at her, and not you." Iwaizumi gave him a slap on the back for good measure. "Focus now."

Iwaizumi wandered off, leaving you one more brief moment with Oikawa. He glanced behind him, then back to you, looking somewhat regretful. It was most likely because the outcome of this game was going to be disappointing for one of you.

"Wait for me after the match, okay?" He asked, yet it came out more desperate. In a way that caused your heart to hammer in your chest. You really couldn't figure out if it was because of him, or if it was because of all the eyes you could still feel pointed towards you.

Throughout your younger years, Oikawa had boosted your confidence, and pushed you outside of your comfort zone. But things were slightly different now. Someone as outgoing as him could tell you had become timid, for reasons he didn't know yet, but hoped he would eventually figure out.

"Good luck, Tooru." You smiled. "You'll need it."

All he could do was flash you a devilish smile.

Oikawa had always been a flirt. It was somewhat comforting to know that his bubbly personality hadn't changed. At least on the surface. He had always commanded the attention of everyone in the room, which made your more reserved nature recoil in embarrassment.

But now, at least on the surface, you could handle it.

Because your parents moved all those years ago, you had never gained the opportunity to tell him how much he had meant to you. But as you watched his presence command the movements of his team, you realized that now was your chance.

Turning back to your teammates, who were all as equally surprised, you scratched the back of your neck awkwardly. "I'm sorry for interrupting." You apologized.

"Y/N, you know Oikawa?" Kageyama was the first one to ask.

"Y-yeah... we were friends in middle school, before I moved here."

"Interesting." Hinata dramatically set his chin in his hand, stroking it as if he had a goatee. "Y/N-chan knows both the kings!"

Kageyama immediately smacked the back of Hinata's head. "Shut up dumbass!" He scolded.

You stifled a laugh, encouraging them to continue on practicing, reassuring them that you were still crossing your fingers for Karasuno to win.

"Y/N took my suggestion a little too seriously." Tanaka sighed, watching you shyly make your way back over to the coaching bench.

"She's so popular and beautiful." Nishinoya added. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I really wish I was Oikawa right now."

Feeling more pumped up than you had before, you shouted a cheer from the sideline. "Don't disappoint me boys!"

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Knowing that volleyball meant the world to Oikawa, you were somewhat relived that Aoba Johsai had won the match.

You would be there for your team in the end, but in this moment, you couldn't be there for Oikawa. You hadn't been for years. That's why you were relived, knowing you couldn't stand to see him upset.

"Don't look at me like that." He teased.

"Like what?" You deadpanned, trying hard to remain upset with him, since he had just ruined Karasuno's chance at participating in the fall nationals.

"Like you're trying to hate me. Because I know you can't."

Finally cracking a smile, you averted your gaze with embarrassment. "You're right."

Oikawa instinctively stepped closer. The proximity caused your heart to pound in your chest, surprisingly because you had never felt like this with him before.

"Even if we lost, I still would have felt that I won." The boy didn't need to explain what he was referring to, because you knew it was about you. It was because you were in his life again.

Trying to remain calm, you scrunched your nose. "Now you're laying it on thick."

Seeming to accept the challenge, Oikawa continued with his flirtations. "I find it strange that I usually get everything I want, but I somehow never got you." The third year laughed sadly, staring up at the pale blue sky. He had always hoped to see you again, but he had never expected it to be in this way.

"You don't even know me anymore." You said, not intending for your words to come out so harshly.

You were right. Oikawa hated it, but you were. And for some reason it made you that much more attractive. Personality wise, and looks wise. Your maturated appearance didn't help his thoughts from wandering.

He had missed your presence more than he had realized. Knowing that you were going to be in his life again gave him a strange sense of hope. It seemed that he had been holding onto them at dream since you parted ways at the end of junior high.

Your parents moved away, taking you along with them. Since your childhood friend was no longer your neighbor and you didn't go to the same high school, your friendship prematurely ended.

Oikawa wish he had tried harder to keep contact, but something told him you might be better off without him. He was going through his own troubles, and needed to focus on himself.

"I should have called you, or something... I don't know." Oikawa admitted. Though it had been years, he still felt comfortable enough around you to speak his mind.

You were the only girl he could ever do that with. He had searched far and wide to replace you, but he always ended up empty handed. Perhaps he should have searched for you instead.

"It's okay." You assured, knowing that life had moved fast for the both of you. You would never hold a grudge against him for that, being young and naive, trying desperately to fit into your new environments. It also didn't help that neither if you had cellphones when you moved away, therefore making it practically impossible to keep in contact. "We were both busy."

Oikawa knew you were putting on an act, but it also seemed genuine. To him, you had always been confusing, your thoughts and emotions so complex that it frightened him. Girls like you had always been hard to find. Ones that were able to explain their resonating so well that it caused them to reflect on their own actions and behaviors. You had always kept Oikawa in check.

But right now, the spirit that he had grown to love was barely visible. He could tell you were happy to see him, but something inside you had been wounded. Whatever it was, Oikawa could tell you were hurting. And every fiber in his being wanted to fix it.

"What happened to you, Y/N?" He asked suddenly, the look in his eyes convincing you that you had done a terrible job concealing your emotions.

Averting your gaze, you shifted awkwardly on your toes. "A lot has happened, Tooru. Too much to explain now."

You could hear the boys loading into the bus, some of them shouting your name in reminder to hurry up your conversation. You glanced back and saw that Kiyoko was waiting outside the vehicle for your return.

Smiling to dispel the haunting memories, you continued. "I would rather hear about you for now. You must be really happy that you won."

"I worked hard...I worked my ass off for years to get where I am today." He kicked a rock across the cement sidewalk. "Watching Kageyama play so well helped me realize that I had been slacking. I guess I forgot what that feels like."

"But?" You pushed him to continue.

Oikawa grimaced, and for a moment, you wished you hadn't asked that question. "Our next opponent will be harder."

It was true. Oikawa had worked hard all his life. He hadn't been blessed with raw talent like his underclassmen Kageyama, but he followed his dream, he had followed his heart.

For some reason though, as he stared at your glowering expression, he began to second guess himself. Maybe he had been doing it wrong.

"Don't give up then." You said, voice wavering with conviction that surprised him. "Whether you were born with it or not, you still have talent. There's still ways to utilize that after High-school. If you really love volleyball then you will continue."

Oikawa's eyes widened.

"This is strange coming from you, who's been rubbing off on you?"

You chuckled. "Nobody. I just know what to say to you."

You were right again. You encouraged him in the most perfect way, but you never praised him like the others. Oikawa's mother always told him to never accept too much praise, and to never get too full of himself.

You were real. You weren't fake like the other girls who only fawned over him for his looks. He would have preferred you to watch him from the stands with genuine interest for the sport, unlike the other girls who were only there for him.

Why?

Because it was the truth. And it was normal. People who work hard to get to a certain point, stop once they reach it. But that's not what he had done. He kept trying. The boy tried harder than he needed to become the best.

No matter what anyone said, Oikawa knew he had to keep trying. He couldn't let his pride get the best of him like it had in the match against Karasuno.

Just by looking his way, he knew what you were thinking. Only a girl as special as you could make him realize that. A girl that had known him from the beginning.

He laughed at first, causing your eyes to drift towards him. You didn't seem surprised, instead, you were calm. "Well, I'm glad that hasn't changed."

You smiled as your hair rippled to the side from a gust of wind. "I missed you, Tooru." The tone of your voice was filled with hope, directly asking him to make the first move, and to not let you leave without a promise to see you again.

"I think it's finally time that you gave me your number." Oikawa held his phone out for you. You tried desperately to hide the blush that was creeping along your face. Everything he did was flirtatious, yet in a way that was childish and made you remember how you used to play with him back in primary school.

After typing in your number, you handed him back his phone. The entire time, you could feel his eyes on you, studying, lingering.

"Well," you apologized, gesturing behind you. "I can't keep them waiting."

"Go ahead, Y/N. I'll text you."

"I'll be waiting." You whispered, barely audible enough for him to hear. Turning on your heels and jogging towards the bus, you glanced behind your shoulder one last time, as if you were afraid to let him escape your gaze. Times were different now, you would see him again. You were sure of it.

You flashed him a smile.

Oikawa shoved his hands in his pockets. You would never know that you had already won over his heart. You had all those years ago, and your presence within him had remained.

Then you left, hoping and praying that he would keep his promise. Hoping and praying that nobody had taken your place.

True love wasn't real, you knew that well enough from your past experiences. Yet deep down, your heart claimed differently. You could anticipate what was going to happen.

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Four months ago

Your hands trembled.

Your thoughts raced as you swung your legs over the railing of your balcony, gazing at the stars that twinkled brightly in the sky.

Your bare feet brushed the plants underneath you, fresh dew gathering in their crevices.

You managed to smile.

It was a quiet and beautiful night. The moon illuminated the oak trees so mysteriously, it would have intrigued you on any other night.

But right now...

All you wanted to do was forget him.

It had been almost a month since the breakup, but you couldn't seem to forgive his iniquitous mistake.

You were a relatively calm and understanding person. But his betrayal had left you in shambles. Haruki was his name, and he had cheated on you with a girl in a different class- who knew that he was your boyfriend. A girl that hated you for no reason, only because you had something that she did not.

You had never been in a situation like this. Nobody had ever taught you how to handle the feelings that came along after heartbreak.

Your supposed first love had cheated on you, yet you didn't know how to respond. How could love just... disappear? Did he ever even love you? Had you wasted the last two years of your life on him?

You were bitter, angry, and confused. Time was supposed to heal wounds, and it did, but only to an extent.

You were a completely different person now. Some would say stronger, but some would say weaker. You had been out of touch for quite some time. And now you were finally sinking back into reality.

But what made you the most addled, was that you couldn't remember his face. It made you so angry to realize that you could forget a face you had studied for so long. Your stomach felt sick as you tried to remember the color of eyes, the taste of his lips, his smile, anything... But you were blank. You had already started to forget about the man you loved, but with good reason.

You had been so lost. And that's why it hurt so bad. You had been vulnerable, you had been taken advantage of. You felt sick knowing you didn't break from his spell on your own.

You winced, partly from the nighttime breeze, and partly from the cold hard truth. Haruki was the liar. But somehow you felt like it was your fault. How could you ever trust someone like that again? You had fallen head over heels for someone who was way under your league, pouring all of your love into the relationship.

You had tried your best to make it work, you had given him everything. All of your time, all your emotions, and all of your body.

But it was never enough. Why were you not enough?

You had made a fool of yourself. You had begged him to stay, because you felt guilty about letting him take your virginity. Haruki had cheated on you, thrown your love away like it was nothing, and left without seeming to care. But the thing was, you still cared.

You could only hold yourself together around your family and friends. But when you were alone like this, your mind drifted away.

You regretted the decisions you'd made with him. You really did. You had blindly followed a boy into a destructive relationship, thinking that he could be a man. Thinking you could fix him, and thinking you could make him better.

But if someone doesn't want to change, they won't. It hurt like hell. Because that's when you realized that people always lie.

Your love was wasted on a boy who didn't deserve it.

Guilt crept into your subconscious. Though you didn't want to admit it, you felt that you had disappointed whoever you were going to end up with in the future.

You leaned against the metallic railing, ears perking up at the undertone of cicadas. They sang mindlessly into the night, like you once had.

It wasn't meant to be, and that was alright. Yet it was still painful, the memories causing tears to prick at your eyelids. You felt helpless at times like this. Why couldn't you just forget about everything and move on?

You desperately wanted to, but deep inside, something was urging for you to never forget this pain. You had spent countless nights in this very position, staring up at the stars, cloudy sky or clear.

And it finally spelled out for you. You were never meant to brush these emotions aside. Instead, you urged to hold them close to your heart. You would never forget your mistake, so you would never make it again.

You had learned, you were stronger. You were different.

You had to put on a show for far too long, masking the pain Haruki had caused you until it was too late.

Now your broken heart was already healing.

Looking up into the black sky once again, you smiled for the first time in days. Tomorrow you would be looking at the same stars through a different lens.

You were changing, while he would stay the same. That was the greatest revenge of all. You would live on without him.

That was what you had convinced yourself until your mother called you the next day, and relayed the devastating news that your brother had died in an accident.

And just like that, two of the most important people in your life were gone.

And back into the spiral you fell.

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Tag list!! lmk if you want to be added for the next part <33

@ardorwrites-hq-mha​ @cuddlyasahi​ @vventure @writeiolite​ @allywritesimagines​ @benewol​

#oikawa tooru x reader #haikyuuwritersnet #oikawa tooru #oikawa x reader #oikawa tōru #haikyuu imagine #hq x reader #hq #haikyuu

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Treasure- Part 1

M/F Pairing: Y/N x Kim Hongjoong (Ateez)

Word Count: 3,565

Genre: Fantasy AU, Pirate AU

Warnings: Language, Violence, Some Smut, Mentions of Blood

Summary: For her entire life, Y/N has always been at the disposal of the men who treat her like she’s less than human. Her father was an alcoholic and her mother is unable to support the two of them after his death. Years later, Y/N feels stuck and there’s nothing worse than feeling trapped in your own home. However, after being kidnapped by a gang of ruthless pirates, Y/N finally gets her first chance of freedom and she very much likes the way it tastes even if that means playing with the heart of the notorious pirate captain whose affections become more and more obvious every day.

When I was younger, my mother told me stories about the ocean goddess Amphitrite whose husband, Poseideon, commanded the endless tides and waves. She was a jealous lover, envious of the women Posideon would often bed, resulting in demigod children which he treasured and kept safely hidden away from his wife’s thirst for vengeance. But children can only be controlled for as long as their curiosity remains sated, choosing the comfort of land instead of that deep-spirited desire to return to the water. Eventually, his demigod children could no longer resist the call and that’s when Amphitrite would rise from the deepest trenches, commanding the ocean to overhaul boats of brave sailors, thunderous power splitting the ships in half while the demigod children lose themselves to their father’s perilous domain.

But Posideon grew angry with Amphitrite’s actions, demanding that she leave his children alone or else she would be banished to the Underworld where his ruthless brother Hades prevailed. Bitter and disappointed, Amphitrite sought a new solution to the problem of her husband’s illicit affairs. Amphitrite decided to try her luck on land and she lived amongst the humans for many years. One day, while she was wandering a distant shore, Amphitrite fell in love with a gorgeous sailor whose long, silky hair and endless sea-green eyes commanded her deepest affections. The sailor, who never realized her true identity, also fell for the mysterious way he felt drawn to the woman who climbed aboard his ship. He promised that he would do anything to please Amphitrite and the clever goddess requested that the sailor track and kill the children of her unsuspecting husband. So, with a crew at hand, the love-struck sailor spent years at sea burning the ships of Poseidon’s demigod children, earning him the nickname of “Pirate” for his bloodthirsty crimes at the behest of Amphitrite....

“I think that’s enough for one night,” my mother would say, noticing the way my eyes grew wider despite the fact that I was meant to be sleeping.

“Are there pirates here?” I would often ask my mother once she was finished.

“They’re only stories, my dearest,” my mother would reply, holding me close at night while my gaze wandered the darkness, searching out the window with a mixture of fear and trepidation, wondering if a pirate would sneak through the window with blood dripping from his blade.

But that was my childhood and, as the years slowly passed away, those stories grew as distant as my memories, lost to the powerful effects of time. I grew as tall as my mother, discovering her features whenever I would look into a mirror. I also inherited her passion for storytelling and would often sit on the hills overlooking the brilliant sea imagining myself exploring the distant lands that the maps at school promised would hold all sorts of possibilities.

Sadly, my dreams of leaving the island became less and less of a possibility as the realities of life replaced the fantastical wanderings of my imagination. When my father eventually died and left me alone to deal with my despondent mother who could no longer take care of herself. She would usually sit in the living room throughout the day, looking out the window at nothing in particular. It was a miracle to hear her speak, and I knew that my mother had become nothing more than a shell of her former self. To take care of us, I was forced to leave school which only dampened my curiosity in the study of Astronomy and the brilliant stars that always inspired me when I was younger. 

I would always miss my youth because now, at the tender age of 21, I had nothing left of the Spirit that once fueled my every hope and desire. I walked through each day dreading the possibility of another, watching everyone else around me move through their lives like the waves washing up on the beach, there at one instant and then gone the next. Leaving for a distant land in the small ships that frequently visited our small island. But nobody liked to stay forever because the human instinct to explore and conquer was present in every man and woman. Sadly, I’d never get the chance to satisfy mine.

Trapped here, like the fish brought in at high tide, to suffer through an endless cycle, wishing to escape to the stars because only then could I be truly free.

“You’re a little slut, aren’t you?” the heavy-set man groaned at my ear, thick hips pounding against mine with bruising power.

“I’ll be whatever you want,” I responded robotically, gazing at the ceiling and creating constellations out of the boards.

It was the same every night, depending on what sort of customers were drawn into the hostel. The owner, an older gentleman with greasy, balding hair, would accept payment for our services, setting aside a gold token or two if he was feeling generous towards his whores which only ever happened when the place was full. Our best customers were merchant ships full of drunk and horny sailors looking to forget about their unfortunate circumstances and stick their uncut cocks into whatever comfortable hole they could find. 

“It’s good business,” the owner would croon, gathering us girls together around him. “My sluts make me good money.”

I would always hold my tongue at the term because, despite the fact that it was true, the connotation still struck a nerve, especially considering how my father had treated my mother. He would often come home at night completely wasted, slapping my mother like she meant absolutely nothing to him. Yelling obscenities while requesting that his slut get him something else to drink.

My father had passed away years ago, but my mother took his loss a lot more than I was expecting considering his treatment towards her. Her eyes lost the light I had cherished as a child, spending her days gazing out the window in my father’s old armchair while I was forced to find work. And those young girls like me who were unable to stay in school on the island could always find work at a whorehouse, selling her body for enough money to buy food and pay rent. That’s all that mattered to me for survival, but it still didn’t satisfy my wildest imaginations, dreaming of escaping to a place far away from this horrible island.

My client for the evening let out a deep-throated moan, cumming inside and I winced when I felt him lean down to kiss my forehead, the gesture far too intimate for my comfort. “I’d buy you again a heartbeat,” he told me sincerely while I impatiently waited for my shift to finally end.

I was usually a lot stricter about the type of contact I allowed. However, these days, I usually endured far more than I used to back when I was still new to the services required of me. Skittish around the older men touching my body or afraid to even ask the other girls for advice. I’m sure some of those clients took advantage of my innocence, but that had since worn off and I was nothing if not completely stoic when it came time to satisfy another customer.

I was still often ignored by the other girls, especially since men usually preferred me because of my younger age. There was only so much that makeup could hide before the body itself bore its secrets in the wrinkles creasing one’s forehead or the bulging veins in a girl’s thighs and arms. My body was still soft, enjoying the effects of youth before those looks would inevitably become lost to a steady decline.

But then again, most men didn’t care since they were usually drunk and reeking of desperation when they entered the hostel. “Sell me your best,” they would often request of my boss to which he would simply signal whichever girl happened to be closest at the time. It was always unfortunate when it was someone simply looking to negotiate their pay so that they could feed their family.

I walked down the stairs from my room with heavy steps while trying to ignore the new ache between my thighs. Carefully, I avoided the lingering patrons while taking a seat at the bar. Someone had discarded a glass from earlier, but I didn’t care about whose lips might have touched the rim, downing the rest of the nasty-smelling liquid without care. “Don’t look so down, kid, you’re too young for wrinkles.”

I offered Wendy, the kind hostel bartender, a small smile. “Any news on how many ships are coming into port tonight?”

“Heard a lot of rumors today,” she said, toweling off another glass. “It might be a pretty busy night. You know that makes the boss happy.”

“But it also means a long shift for me,” I said. “I can only handle a few old bastards a night before I feel completely numb in my legs.”

“Try stretching,” she suggested. “Good business means you might get paid more.”

“Still won’t be enough,” I said, barely acknowledging one of the other hostel workers who had suddenly joined us at the bar.

“Sounds like someone should have stayed at home if she ain’t on her best game,” her nasal voice informed me.

“I don’t do much of the work.”

A snort of laughter. “That’s true. You might be the best of us at spreading those pretty thighs.”

I gritted my teeth together as I signaled for Wendy to refill my glass. “This coming from someone who’s always chosen last by the clientele.”

Barbara paused next to me, spine rigid. “Watch your mouth, little girl. We don’t talk that way to anyone, got it?”

“Whatever,” I muttered darkly, eyes narrowing as more men started to walk into the hostel, eyes shiny with evidence of their desires which I would have the obligation of fulfilling.

“Work hard,” Barbara snapped at me before wandering out onto the main floor sporting her best smile.

I glowered in her direction, surveying the crowd with disinterest. “There’s a big group,” Wendy remarked, nodding at the door.

I spun around in my chair, holding tightly to my glass as I discovered the boisterous crowd of relatively young sailors who had just entered the hostel.  It was a large group of men, clothed in ragged attire barely held together by worn stitching, black-toed boots scuffing the floors. They were loud and obnoxious, clearly oblivious to decorum. They wore matching black masks and hats, overcoats thick as they carried themselves with an air of superiority. “They don’t look like regular sailors,” I remarked loosely to Wendy, unaware of the consequences of my words until a few moments later when the leader of the group suddenly confronted my boss who had been talking with a few regulars.

“How many do you have here?” the masked man demanded, flaming red hair contrasting with his pale skin.

“H-how many of what?” my boss asked, cowering back as he took in the sight of the gangly crew.

“Whores,” the red-head said, surveying the hostel with interest, eyes pausing on me for longer than I would have liked.

“Tonight?” my boss spluttered. “I got six working the floor.”

“We’ll take all of them,” the red-head said. 

“I don’t know if I have enough rooms to accommodate that many pairings! If you could just-”

“Not here,” the red-head sighed impatiently, turning to look at one of his partners. “Am I not speaking English, San?”

“It sounds like it to me,” the one named San pondered, gaze thoughtful as he considered my boss. “Did you not hear him, old man? Give us all of your whores.”

“W-where would you take them?”

“Onboard, obviously,” the red-head snapped. “The crew needs some new entertainment.”

“They got bored of the last ones,” a deeper voice joined the fray belonging to someone whose eyes crinkled at the sides with mischief. He was undoubtedly smiling beneath that unusual disguise.

“Hurry up, Mingi, Captain’s not gonna wait all night!”

“Those girls aren’t leaving this hostel,” my boss said, standing straighter even as his shoulders fell against the heavy gaze of Mingi, tall form looming in a dominant fashion.

In a split second, Mingi pulled a gun from the belt around his waist, aiming directly at my boss’ head. The entire hostel grew silent, all eyes watching the impending situation with fear evident in their dilated irises. “What did you say?”

“Alright, alright,” my boss said, waving his hands like a lunatic. “You can use them for one night.”

BANG!

I heard a distant squeal when his body finally hit the floor, but I was too caught up in my unexpected self-satisfaction at seeing my slimy boss bleeding out against the wood I had spent hours cleaning last night. “He said six,” Mingi growled, glancing back at his men. “Take whichever six you want, including her,” he said, pointing in my direction. “We can save her for the captain.”

His words were the catalyst for the sudden action of the other men, swords drawn from their scabbards as they ran at the crowd with excited cheers as if the prospect of attacking innocent civilians was too much to anticipate. Screams filled the hostel, men and women alike running in opposite directions in their desperation to escape. “Pirates!” someone shouted and the word sent a shiver down my spine as I met the gaze of the man who had murdered my boss in cold blood.

“The Captain will like you a lot, girl,” Mingi said, nodding appreciatively as he openly appraised me like I was particularly worthy of his attention. Around us, the other girls were sobbing and pleading, struggling in the grasps of the pirates who had since taken them hostage, pulling them towards the door of the hostel which I once associated with long nights struggling to sell my body to the highest bidder. “Are you gonna give me a hard time like your friends?”

“They aren’t my friends,” I retorted coldly, surprising the pirate standing before me.

“You’ll be coming with us.”

“I understand,” I said calmly, gazing out across the now mostly vacant hostel, a few bodies littering the floors covered in blood. “I’ll go with you.”

Mingi smirked, gripping tightly to my upper arm even though it wasn’t necessary, leading me out into the chaotic streets like I was nothing more than a common dog for him to command. The island itself was a complete mess, townspeople running through the streets cursing and yelling, trash loitering the sidewalks, children mindlessly glancing around with wide, confused eyes. And through it all I managed to keep myself together, vaguely wondering what my mother might be doing at that moment. But it never crossed my mind to beg this pirate to allow me one last chance to see her. It didn’t matter that my mother depended on me to take care of her because, for a fleeting second, I could only think about how unfair it was that I was stuck with a mother like her who could no longer protect me from harm

The dock was glowing in the distance, lanterns lighting the worn pathways leading to different ships anchored at port. I had only been to the docks a few times in my life, mostly to help my former boss whenever the hostel received a large delivery. Nevertheless, it still managed to fill me with a sick feeling of hope that maybe one day I could find myself a ship willing to take me far away from the island. Somewhere warm and inviting where I could study Astronomy and remember all the delicate patterns I had once memorized when I was still a young and impressionable child. 

Of course, being kidnapped against my will was certainly not the way I envisioned leaving the island, especially when it involved pirates. I studied Mingi from the corner of my eyes. How many people has he killed? Would I be just another body to add to his list?

Such questions were useless to consider because fear was the last emotion I needed to feed into right now, paralyzed with the wide-eyed desire to run or fight and protect myself. I would stand no chance with these pirates, especially Mingi who was taller and strong, leading me to a ship that stood in contrast to the others anchored down. The ship in question, with the name “Precious” painted onto the side of the hull, was larger than any boat I had ever seen docked at the bay. It was actually quite beautiful, dark sails trembling in the breeze while the forlorn flag at the highest point indicated that it belonged to the pirate order. But that was just the ironic contradiction of the ship because despite its outward appearance, the men who commanded her wheel were nothing short of barbaric. A nasty breed of man who plundered the seas and killed without remorse.

I stumbled up the narrow plank, glaring at Mingi from the corner of my eye as he continued to push me onboard. The other girls were already kneeling, hands tied behind their backs as they suffered from various states of undress. I glanced down at my disheveled skirts, grateful that they at least covered my legs. “This one is for the Captain.”

“But she’s the youngest!” another voice complained, glaring almost enviously at the other girls.

“For. The. Captain,” Mingi repeated, jerking me to the right. “You can do whatever you want to the rest of them.”

I glanced back over my shoulder, wincing when I saw one of the pirates dig his fingers tightly into Barbara’s dark hair. “You should be grateful,” Mingi growled at me. “The Captain doesn’t like to share.”

“I don’t feel grateful,” I hissed back at him, completely unprepared for the accompanying slap as my head twisted to the side.

“You won’t talk to me that way,” Mingi said, shoving me against the wall, fingers tightening around my throat. My lungs were screaming for air, toes hovering above the deck, hands scratching against his impossible hold. I was gasping, desperate for air while my mind screamed at me to fight back, but I was powerless against his predominant strength.

“Is this one mine?”

My feet landed on the floor and I dropped to my knees, breathing in the air like it was the last time I might be able to do so. “It might not be worth it, Captain,” Mingi spat. “She’s got a mouth on her.”

“Is that so?”

I was slowly recovering from my temporary brush with death, lifting my gaze to locate the mysterious Captain I was now meant to serve. He wasn’t as tall as Mingi, but he was somehow far more intimidating, wearing all black from the mask hiding his face to the boots echoing against the deck. His hair was a strawberry color, delicately framing an angular face that might be handsome if it didn’t belong to such a despicable person. “Tell me your name, whore,” he demanded.

I swallowed hard against the raw ache in my throat. “Y/N.”

The Captain nodded. “Mingi, you can leave the two of us now. Go enjoy the other girls.”

Mingi obeyed, albeit reluctantly as he trained those suspicious eyes on my recovering form. “Aye, sir.”

I watched him as he walked away, fingers massaging my still-tender throat. “Does it hurt?”

I carefully considered the Captain. “He tried to kill me.”

“You shouldn’t mouth off,” the Captain said, nodding towards a door. “Come inside.” I bit my tongue, withholding a sharp retort as I did as he directed, brushing off my skirts. “My private quarters,” he said, shrugging off his thick overcoat while I examined the dozens of candles lining the mantlepiece. 

“Will the others be hurt?”

He paused at my question. “Does it matter? You can’t do anything to help them.”

“I just want to help myself,” I told him honestly, brushing my fingers across a rather ancient looking bookcase.

“Then this should be easy,” the Captain said, tearing off his mask. “You can be good for me while I fuck you.”

I took a moment to admire the Captain’s features, far more delicate than I was anticipating with dark, thoughtful eyes. “I’ve been doing that my whole life, Captain.”

He smirked. “Then this should be second-nature to you.”

I bristled at the insinuation. “Maybe I’m tired of being treated like a whore.”

“Why else do you think you were brought onto this ship?” the Captain asked, tone growing hostile.

“I was forced to come aboard,” I said. “By that bumbling idiot who tried to kill me.”

“And I could do the same,” the Captain said, drawing a gun from the holster hanging off his belt. “Get on the bed.”

“I’d rather die,” I told him honestly, staring down the silver weapon to meet the Captain’s narrowed eyes. “Kill me instead.”

A chuckle escaped from between his lips. “So that’s what you want? I could always force you.”

“I’d fight back.”

“But I’m quite strong, love,” he said with a barely distinguishable accent. 

“It wouldn’t be easy for you,” I said. “Didn’t you say you wanted someone easy?”

The Captain was quiet for a long time before he re-holstered his gun, crossing his arms in a closed-off manner. “Then perhaps a few nights in the brig will change your mind.”

#ateez fanfic #ateez smut #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong fanfic #hongjoong smut

[classysassy9791]

Sometimes its the quieter moments that speak the loudest. A story of love, laughter, and friendship carried through the years during the most wonderful season of all. Full of fluff and Christmas cheer. Interconnecting One-shots.

Fandom: Inuyasha Genre: Romance/Friendship Pairings: InuKag, MirSan, SessKagu Ch. 1 l Ch. 2 l Ch. 3 l Ch. 4 l

Chapter 5: All I Want for Christmas is You (part 1 of 2) Word Count: 2590 Can also be found here

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Kagome knew she was blushing.

She could feel the heat growing in her cheeks as she continued to stare across the room to where the object of her affections sat. Inuyasha sat at the dining room table, his face screwed in concentration, as he battled against frosting and gingerbread.

He had somehow managed to get icing everywhere, including his face and hair. He lifted his fingers to his mouth, licking them clean, and then running his tongue slowly over his lips to catch any remnants. Her heart beat quickened, and she shamelessly thought that his lips looked very kissable.

“Kagome?”

Biting her lip, Kagome watched in a daze as Inuyasha began to slip off his button-up shirt, grumbling something about it being one of his nicer ones, leaving his arms bare and his chest covered only by a wife-beater. She could practically feel the drool drip down her chin as he continued his work, his forearms flexing.

What she wouldn’t give for him to wrap those arms around her.

“Kagome, are you still there?”

Sango’s voice over the receiver finally startled Kagome out of her audacious musings, further deepening her blush.

“Y-Yes, I’m still here.” She immediately turned around and proceeded back into the kitchen, covering her face with her hand as if to hide her rosy cheeks. “Sorry about that. What were you saying?”

“I was saying that I won’t be able to join you guys today. Since my dad and Kohaku went to the hockey game, my mom needs me to run some errands with her.”

“Oh, well that’s all right,” Kagome said, while simultaneously trying to cool her blush by fanning herself. It didn’t help that the oven was on, making the room feel much hotter than it probably was. “I think we can survive without you this time.”

“Really?” Sango spoke skeptically. “You think you’ll be able to keep the boys in line?”

Kagome pondered for a moment before smiling sheepishly. “Well, I’ve left them unsupervised for a few minutes and they haven’t caused a disaster yet. So that’s a good thing, right?”

Sango exhaled deeply on the other line. “Well, just tell them if they don’t behave, I’ll castrate the both of them.”

“Sango!” Kagome shrieked, all efforts of disposing of her blush now gone to waste. “Since when have your threats become so crass?”

She could hear her chuckle on the other line. “Since the boys stopped believing I could actually beat them up – which, by the way, I still can.”

Rolling her eyes, Kagome leaned the phone in the crook of her neck, held in place by her shoulder. “If you say so.”

“Inuyasha, what the hell is that?” Miroku’s voice came from the dining room.

“What are you talkin’ about? It’s a house.”

“More like a haunted mansion. Seriously, do you even know what a house looks like?”

Inuyasha scoffed. “I can do whatever the fuck I want.”

“Language, boys!” Kagome called out before turning her attention back to the phone. “Look, Sango, I have to go. But call me later tonight after you’re done helping your mom.”

“Will do. Good luck!”

“Thanks,” she murmured sarcastically. The girls said their goodbyes, allowing Kagome to return to her task at hand, as well as the sinful thoughts she had minutes earlier.

Even though she told Sango it was okay, she silently berated her for canceling on them, leaving her to fend for herself against Inuyasha and Miroku’s usual depravity. Although, she couldn’t help but wonder how much damage they could do with some icing and gingerbread.

Sighing deeply, she took a moment to pull herself together. She breathed in the aroma of that perfect blend of spicy and sweet, filling her home with warmth not just from the oven. Gumdrops, marshmallows, and coconut shavings separated, Kagome gathered up their respective bowls and proceeded toward the dining room where she was sure to find disarray.

“Hey, here are some more—“ Her words cut off as she paused in the entryway.

The boys froze upon her entrance, each holding a tube of icing, and looking as if they had just been caught with their hands in Santa’s cookie jar. She glanced over their makeshift masterpieces, and almost laughed at the appearance of Inuyasha’s gingerbread house – which looked more like a lean-to.

But that was not what caused her to stop in her tracks. Somehow, icing was everywhere; on the table, smeared across the chairs, and even on Inuyasha’s face – again.

“He started it!” Inuyasha called out, immediately putting down his weapon when he realized they had been caught.

“Me?” Miroku rebutted with raised brows. “You’re the blockhead who couldn’t take a little constructive criticism!”

“Keh! Who asked for your opinion?”

“I merely tried to assist in your foundation!”

The two men, faces flushed from the heat of the argument, looked absolutely ridiculous, more-so because of the entirety of the situation. Kagome couldn’t even be angry with them for destroying her mother’s dining room or wrecking their gingerbread experiment.

She just found it so funny.

And she started laughing, haphazardly placing the bowls on the table as she watched their dumbfounded expressions. Inuyasha tilted his head like a puppy dog. “What’re you laughing at?” he asked innocently, as if he had no clue what kind of predicament he was in. “Do I have something on my face?”

Kagome wiped a tear from her eye and pointed to his face. “You have some icing there.”

He reached up to swipe at his cheek, but missed entirely, only causing Kagome’s smile to widen.

“Here,” she offered, grabbing a napkin and stepping close. “Let me.”

She wiped away the frosting, dabbing his face lightly, and granted him an amused smile. “Uh, thanks,” he grumbled, his voice husky as a light blush warmed his cheeks.

Kagome tugged on his hair playfully, pulling another glob of frosting free. “You sure are a handful, you know that?” she murmured affectionately.

It took her a full thirty seconds to realize their noses were only a few inches apart and she could feel his warm breath caressing her skin. Her gaze wandered to his lips and she swallowed past the lump in her throat.

“K-Kagome?” Inuyasha whispered, effectively snapping her out of her stupor.

Eyes wide, she suddenly pulled back, feeling heat creep up the back of her neck and flush her cheeks. “Uh, th-there you go,” she fumbled, clearing her throat. “Much better.”

Inuyasha blinked, as if he too had just realized what they had been doing.

Fortunately, as the awkwardness of the situation settled over them, Miroku decided to call out with, “Kagome, I have some frosting on my face, too! Can you come help me?”

Kagome turned to him, chuckling at his child-like pout and hopeful expression. “Sure.”

“Clean your own damn face!” Inuyasha snapped, sending Miroku a heated glare.

“But Inuyasha, why does the beautiful Kagome get to help you and not me?”

Ignoring the insults the boys threw at each other, along with a few pieces of gingerbread and candy, Kagome worked to calm her racing heart. She sighed, watching as they bickered, and realized her school-girl crush on Inuyasha was working its way deeper into her chest, leaving her at a loss.

On the bright side, she knew one thing was for certain.

Inuyasha and Miroku would never be allowed to build gingerbread houses again.

...

A low hum of Christmas music played in the background, coupled with the crackle and pop of the fire in the grand hearth. The beautifully embellished tree towered over them, lights twinkling across the glossy ribbons and brightly colored paper.

Kagome pulled another piece of tape from the dispenser and expertly folded the corner of wrapping paper, sealing it in place. She smiled at her handiwork, rather proud at how far she had come since she was a child. Her mother taught her well.

Glancing over, she realized not everyone had gotten better when it came to wrapping presents, evidenced by Inuyasha’s catastrophe. He currently attempted to tape together an odd-shaped gift for their friend, Shippo, but he was having no luck in making it look pretty.

Sango suddenly exhaled deeply, pushing away her latest gift into her growing pile. “Well, I’m ready for some more hot cocoa.” She stood up from where she had been sitting cross-legged on the floor, stretching her arms high over her head to loosen the muscles. “Anyone else want some?”

“Sure,” Kagome replied, handing her cup over, as well as Inuyasha’s when he distractedly agreed.

“Come on, Miroku,” Sango urged, nudging him with her foot. “Help me in the kitchen.”

“But I’m not done wrapping my gift yet,” he protested, proceeding to fold another corner.

Sango swiftly kicked him again. “I can’t carry four cups by myself.”

Pouting, he slowly climbed to his feet and grabbed their mugs. “I’ve only finished half of my gifts. This is going to take all night!”

“Oh, quit complaining. It’s not our fault you take your sweet time,” Sango berated him as they ventured into the kitchen, the sounds of their conversation fading.

Kagome smiled and turned to Inuyasha, who was still struggling with his present. “Some things never change,” she murmured, shaking her head affectionately. “Here, let me help.”

“No, I got it,” he assured, attempting to pull apart a piece of tape that had somehow stuck to itself.

She rolled her eyes at his pride. “Inuyasha, at least let me show you. That way you can do it yourself next time.”

He opened his mouth to refuse her help again, but at the same time managed to tear the paper wide open, resulting in having to start all over.

Kagome smiled warmly. “Let me.”

Scooting closer, she tore the paper off and began again. She folded the edges of his present neatly, her nimble fingers working quickly to tape it together. Inuyasha crossed his arms, grumbling under his breath that he was doing just fine and didn’t need any help.

While he watched her work, he suddenly turned to her and asked, “Hey, what do you want for Christmas, Kagome?”

She raised her brows with surprise, sparing him a glance. “You haven’t finished all your shopping yet?”

“Nah. I still have Miroku and Sango to do, but the rest are done.”

“Yeah, I still have a few to pick up, too,” she hummed in agreement.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

She looked up at him innocently. “Hm?”

“What do you want for Christmas?”

She shrugged and turned back to wrapping the gift. “Nothing really.”

He furrowed his brows with surprise. “Nothing?” he parroted. “You always have a Christmas list made out in July. What do you mean ‘nothing’?”

“I just don’t want anything this year. Is that a crime?”

He didn’t miss the light blush that dusted her cheeks. “Uh, yeah, for you it is. What’s going on���?”

“Here we are!” Miroku exclaimed as he and Sango suddenly reappeared, effectively interrupting Kagome and Inuyasha’s conversation, which Kagome was all too happy for.

After all, how could she tell him what she really wanted for Christmas?

Sango handed her a cup of hot cocoa, which Kagome quickly took a sip, relishing in the warm chocolate taste and sweet hint of marshmallow. “Perfect, as always.”

 “So, did you guys finish your holiday shopping?” Sango asked as she took a break from wrapping gifts.

“We were just talking about that. I still have Souta to buy for, but he should be easy.” Kagome curled her hands around her mug and sighed. “My gramps will be hard, though. I never know what to buy him.”

As the conversation turned to brainstorming ideas of what to buy for the rest of their family and friends, Kagome could feel Inuyasha stealing glances at her. Her answer to his question had left him confused, and contrary to popular belief, Inuyasha wasn’t as dense as he seemed.

...

December twenty-fourth rolled around, and just like many years before, Kagome found herself at Sango’s place to celebrate. However, she wasn’t really in much of a partying mood, even after a few glasses of eggnog.

She had Inuyasha to thank for that.

It had been a week and Kagome still hadn’t told him what she wanted for Christmas. Time was quickly running out, and at this rate, he had told her she would be receiving her present late. Not many stores were open on Christmas, and it was already seven o’clock at night.

Determined to avoid him and his insistent questioning, Kagome had ducked into a different room or another crowd all night. It was rather exhausting, not leaving much energy for actually enjoying the party.

Finally, she had given up on evading him. Curled up on the couch with a cup of hot chocolate in front of the fire place, she gazed at the hearth absently. She listened to the low hum of Christmas music playing in the background, sometimes drowned out by the laughter of some of the guests.

Over the years, the parties at Sango’s place had grown. Extended relatives joined in, some newly married or recent parents, as well as neighbors or friends whose family had all passed and had nowhere to go. Sango’s home was a place of solace during the holidays. After all, no one should be alone on Christmas.

Inuyasha suddenly plopped down next to her, effectively startling her, but when she realized who it was, she smiled. “Having a good time?” she greeted him.

He shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

She nodded her head behind her to where his half-brother and his girlfriend were speaking with Ms. Higurashi. “How do you feel about Kagura?”

“Keh,” he scoffed, following her gaze. “She’s all right. Sesshomaru’s more tolerable when she’s around, so that’s nice.”

Kagome laughed. “Yeah, I can see how she can keep him in line.”

Silence fell over them as Kagome sipped on her cocoa. She stole glances at Inuyasha out of the corner of her eye. He wore a red cashmere sweater that fit snug in all the right places and he had pushed up his sleeves to his elbows due to how warm it was inside.

God, did he look good.

“So…” Inuyasha prodded hesitantly, effectively pulling Kagome’s gaze back to his own. “Are you ever going to answer my question?”

She already knew what he was referring to. Averting her gaze to her cup of hot chocolate, she watched the marshmallows float in the milky-brown. “I already told you.”

“That wasn’t a real answer.” He wrapped his arms around her bended legs, resting his chin on her knees.

She gazed into his amber eyes, flecked with firelight, and affectionately tousled his hair. “I don’t want anything,” she tried again, hoping to ward him off with a smile.

He didn’t buy it. “Liar.” He pulled her hand free from his hair and held it. “I’m serious. What’s going on?”

Kagome swallowed hard past the lump in her throat, feeling her stomach pool with unfamiliar warmth and the feel of Inuyasha’s calloused hands against her own. She felt heat flush her cheeks, and it wasn’t from the warmth of the fire. “Inuyasha…”

His hand tightened around hers. “Tell me, Kagome. What do you want for Christmas?”

She wasn’t sure where her courage came from, but she suddenly found herself taking the proverbial leap of faith. So while staring into the amber eyes that gave her butterflies, in a small, breathy whisper, she spoke a single word.

“You.”

#inuyasha #kagome #inukag #fanfiction #inuyasha fanfiction #inukag fanfiction #my fanfiction #sassy stays classy #a christmas story

[rivalsforlife]

one more ahaha but the cherry blossom scene at the end of catch up game ch 3 because i'm still thinking nonstop about it all the time 👀👉👈

ABSOLUTELY I CAN also for anyone reading this go look at Mika’s art which inspired this scene. It’s the tumblr version so you can reblog it too, which you should do, even if you don’t read my long rambling,

okay once again rambling below...

Traditionally, Larry Butz arrived at any social gathering anywhere from half an hour to three hours later than the time he was told, so all things considered, he was actually early. Phoenix wasted no time informing him of the latest betrayal among their small elementary school friend group.

this is a direct callout to one of my friends from high school, where we started seriously considering telling her that any social event we were planning started an hour earlier than it actually did so that she’d make it there on time. We never did in case this turned out to be the time she actually made it on time, but still.

“Larry, remember that one time we were trying to make that gigantic hopscotch game, and we ran out of chalk?” He pointed an accusatory finger at Edgeworth, who sighed. “It turns out, Edgeworth hid it all along!”

Larry blinked, then shrugged. “Oh yeah, right, that. Well, I kind of had an idea…”

“Wh — You hid this from me too?! D-Death! The death penalty for the both of you!”

“Why does this all sound so familiar,” Edgeworth commented under his breath.

I think this part is mostly there so Larry actually does something because I couldn’t find any real way to fit him into this fic...? Anyways the dialogue there with Phoenix threatening the death penalty on Miles and Larry is pretty much directly lifted from the end of Turnabout Goodbyes, which is why Miles comments on it sounding familiar. 

They continued on in that vein for some time, dredging up old elementary school memories. Phoenix proclaimed to be the only innocent member of that group, before Edgeworth brought up a set of very nice gel pens Phoenix reportedly stole from him. Phoenix and Edgeworth got caught up in their argument, and barely even noticed when Larry wandered away, joining Maggey and Gumshoe at the fishing pond while Franziska critiqued them.

This sort of familiar banter was normal. As Edgeworth teased in that same way he had ever since Phoenix first faced him in court, he had to wonder if he’d just imagined the way Edgeworth had been looking at him during the party. Maybe everything was fine, after all.

Not pictured: Phoenix and Miles leaning in closer to each other as they argue. too close. Larry tries to comment but neither of them hear him. Eventually he just walks away because he’s sick of third-wheeling with these two. It’s my firm belief that if there weren’t the court benches in the way that they need to slam, these two would slowly walk closer and closer to each other as they argue because they. uh. want to “intimidate” each other. that’s why they’re nose to nose like that. the whole courtroom is suddenly very uncomfortable.

Haha anyways also I think these two would pick the dumbest things to argue about all the time? Never seriously arguing, the just like bickering because they don’t know how to hold conversations about their feelings.

“You still haven’t explained exactly what happened to my gel pen set,” Edgeworth accused, as they circled around the argument for the third time.

Phoenix threw his hands up in the air. “I just forgot to return it! I didn’t know you were so bothered by it. You should have brought it up!”

“Back then? You were so sensitive. If I brought up that you might have upset me in the least, you would have burst into tears.”

“I wasn’t that sensitive.”

Edgeworth sighed. “Wright, you cried when I got a question wrong on a spelling test, because you thought I would be sad about it.”

“And you were!” Phoenix retorted. “You cried for like an hour!”

“Because when you started crying, I thought it was something I had to be ashamed of!”

More bickering, pretty much! Also I do think Phoenix cried A Lot and was super sensitive up until the whole Dahlia trial which traumatized him pretty badly... 

Anyways the REAL story behind this incident which I am making up just now is probably that Miles was on the verge of crying because of Getting Something Wrong -- which I totally get, I absolutely almost cried over spelling tests as a baby -- and Phoenix picked up on this and realized his best friend was sad and started crying, which made Miles start to fully cry, and it just became a mess.

Meanwhile Larry with the 3/10 on his spelling test was just like “I don’t get what you guys are so upset about a 9/10 is great” which just makes them cry even more.

(Then Gregory probably found out about this incident and sat Miles down and gave him a speech about “everyone makes mistakes and it’s okay to not be perfect all the time, this is a learning opportunity and it shows you what you need to work on!”

:)

That sentiment didn’t last very long.)

Wow I’m getting off topic, moving on --

Phoenix crossed his arms. “I remember this whole thing very differently than you do. You cried first.”

“I never cried in fourth grade.”

Phoenix leaned in and whispered into his ear, “Origami.”

“Do not bring that up!” Edgeworth hissed as Phoenix reared back, laughing.

I don’t know if you need to lean in super close and whisper that in his ear though Phoenix, that might be a bit unnecessary. Miles got lucky here in that his Eternal Shame over not being able to fold an origami crane in fourth grade overrode whatever reaction he undoubtedly would have had about Phoenix’s face being very close to his face.

Anyways this banter is here in the fic mostly because I really wanted to show them being all comfortable and happy with each other. That was a major thing I wanted to push as much as possible in these earlier chapters, that they do care about each other a lot even before we enter the more outright romantic territory.

“Regardless, I am certain you took my gel pen set, so don’t try to blame faulty memory on that one. I bet you carelessly used them all up, didn’t you?”

“Hardly! I wouldn’t even touch it after you left. It reminded me of you.”

Some of the fight left Edgeworth’s stance. “Really?”

“Well… yeah.” He wasn’t sure why the admission suddenly felt like a confession of an entirely different sort.

aw man Phoenix you brought feelings into your banter NOW what are you going to do.

I’m preeetty sure I have books that I lent to my friends in fourth grade that they never gave back so it’s of course not an inherently romantic thing, they probably just forgot it was mine and obviously aren’t going to bring it back now ten years later, but for Phoenix in this case it was probably more like “I borrowed these gel pens from Miles and then keep forgetting to give them back but was going to after winter break, and then he left, so I need to hold onto them until he comes back”. Miles was taken from his life so suddenly it probably had a huge effect on him, especially since he had few friends at the time and Miles made such a big impact on him.

The two of them sat underneath the tree in a sudden, serene quiet. They’d both discarded their suit jackets at some point, down to their dress shirts and waistcoats. Phoenix pretended not to notice the way Edgeworth’s eyes darted across the line of his shoulders and lingered longer than they should have.

I don’t ever really pay much attention to what people are wearing or what they look like at any particular time when I’m writing, but in this case I took extra care to make sure they were in the same outfits as in the art that inspired this!

Maybe I’ll ramble a bit more about that! Pretty much the “theme” of narumitsu week this year was “cherry blossoms”, so I wanted to find some way to incorporate them into this fic somewhere somehow. I decided to have that as a focus on Free Day because I enjoy having structure and wasn’t sure what to have for the day.

Some of this scene, mainly the picnic, is inspired by that one official art here. The first iteration of this chapter had everyone in it (with the obvious exceptions of Diego and Mia) but then I took out Maya and Pearl for reasons I explained when I was talking about the scene in chapter 6 where I decided to cut a lot of Maya’s scenes out of this fic... even though I love her a lot.

And of course when I thought about cherry blossoms and narumitsu I thought about Mika’s art, yes I am linking it again, which I believe she posted about a month or so before I started planning and I was Thinking About It Constantly. It’s gorgeous and since there was the perfect opportunity to use it here I just couldn’t resist and here we are.

Back to the paragraph: Miles attempted to subtly check Phoenix out. It was not subtle.

“Do you still have those gel pens?” Edgeworth asked, softer. “I think you owe me them, after everything.”

“Oh, shut up,” said Phoenix, but it was difficult to have a heated argument right now, for some unknown reason. “If I still have them, they’re in a box somewhere. Plus, they ought to have dried up by now.”

“I doubt it.” A faint smile was beginning to crawl on Edgeworth’s face. “Those gel pens were state of the art.”

“Sure they were,” Phoenix dismissed. “And, what, you’re going to use them? Sign your fancy prosecutor documents in bright pink?”

“What makes you think I don’t do that already?”

“You wouldn’t — oh, wait, of course you’d have customized ink in the same colour as your entire wardrobe, who am I even talking to…”

“Mhm.” Edgeworth brushed his bangs from his eyes, a motion that Phoenix’s brain decided to fixate on for some reason. “But really, you went to all the trouble of keeping the set, and you never used any of them?”

(Miles voice) “oh so you kept something as trivial as that for so long because they reminded you of me? Tell me more. Why do you want a reminder of me. What exactly do you think of me, Wright,”

hm pretty much as soon as Phoenix brought Feelings into this conversation the atmosphere kind of changed and you can now imagine Miles staring with the most adoring expression at Phoenix while Phoenix is ignoring this with such intensity that it doesn’t even show up in his narration. But he also watches the way Miles brushes his bangs from his eyes, so he’s not much better.

And thinking about it now this scene really went on for too long about gel pens hahaha... 

“Objection!” Phoenix declared. “I used the blue one to write you letters at first.”

“Ah, of course you did. I never got any of those… How many did you send?”

“I don’t even want to know…”

Edgeworth hummed and looked off into the distance, where Gumshoe was demonstrating how to cast a line. “Your level of dedication is something else,” he said, as if to himself.

“Well, yeah. You were my only non-Larry friend. You were…” Phoenix swallowed. “You were important to me, you know? You saved me.”

“You keep bringing that up. You’ve more than returned the favor, you know that, don’t you?”

“I’m inclined to disagree.”

I don’t have a consistent headcanon about whether Miles got or read the letters, in this fic presumably von Karma intercepted them and got rid of them... and then presumably Miles ignored any that were sent to him as an adult.

Also these two are going to have ridiculous arguments about who saved who until they’re on their deathbeds, I’m sure.

Edgeworth turned back towards him as if to retort, but stopped halfway, his eyes widening slightly as he stared at Phoenix.

“... Something on my face?” Phoenix asked, trying to quell the feeling of some sort of anxiety that bubbled up when Edgeworth stared at him like that.

insert mikacherryblossomart.png

Miles turns away for one second and then suddenly oh no he’s even more gorgeous now

Edgeworth was silent for some time. Then, very softly, he said, “You have cherry blossom petals in your hair.”

“What? Do I?” He reached a hand up to brush them out, but Edgeworth stopped him by grabbing his wrist, freezing Phoenix.

“With your hair, you’ll never get them out like that.” With his spare hand, Edgeworth began to pick each individual petal from his hair. “You look so — silly, Wright.”

Partially a callback to the beginning of chapter 3, when they were kids:

“Y-Your hair,” Miles managed to say through stifled laughter. “One of the flowers fell into it.”

Phoenix hands shot up into his hair. “Really?”

“You look so silly, Phoenix.” When Phoenix failed to find the flower, Miles reached out. “Here, let me.” 

 Phoenix remained still as Miles reached up to the top of his head and picked the flower out of his hair. “Your hair’s really soft,” Miles said quietly, before handing it over to Phoenix. “Here you go.”

because Miles apparently remembered that it was difficult for Phoenix to get the petals from his hair the first time, and also, wanted an excuse to touch Phoenix’s hair again.

But also the dialogue and interactions are ONCE AGAIN INSPIRED BY MIKA based on this reply to my reply to the art on twitter. look at that you can go and retweet the art on twitter too!

Overall this gives us an accurate Thoughts to Speech translator for Miles:

Miles: You have cherry blossom petals in your hair and it is going to kill me.

Phoenix: What? Do I?

Miles: No, wait, don’t brush them out, I want to touch your hair because it is soft and this is the perfect excuse. You look so captivating.

if Miles had said that out loud though it would probably have killed both of them.

Phoenix let out an awkward, low laugh, starting somewhere deep within his chest. “R-Really.”

“Mhm.”

Edgeworth’s eyes locked with Phoenix’s, and time seemed to freeze. There was a sudden thrum of tension in the air, as if Phoenix were in a play and he’d suddenly forgotten his lines, forgotten he was supposed to be in a play at all.

(chanting) “kiss kiss kiSS KISS KISS --”

But before either of them could break the sudden spell over them, a fishing hook whirred through the air, and —

“Ack, I — I think I got it stuck!”

but of course that needs to be interrupted at the worst possible time because this is fanfiction and this is how things work!

“In the tree?! How did you even manage to get it that far?”

“Don’t worry about it, Maggey, I can climb up the tree and get it unstuck, just hang on —”

“No, no, if I just give it a big yank—”

“Maggey—!”

I broke the first rule of writing dialogue because I can’t really remember who’s supposed to be saying what. I think that Maya had a few lines here and then I didn’t change them since there were no dialogue tags...

Pretty much -- Maggey with her eternal luck tried to fish but released the line too early as she was swinging back so the line went back and got caught in the tree branches directly above Phoenix and Miles.

I think the dialogue progression goes Maggey -> Originally Maya but now either Larry or Franziska -> Gumshoe -> Maggey -> everyone going MAGGEY NO!!!

I remember going fishing with my grandpa once a long time ago and either I or my brother did get the fishing line stuck in a tree. would not recommend.

The branch above Phoenix and Edgeworth jostled, and pink petals burst all around them, fluttering down and catching in their hair and on their clothes. One petal even fell behind Edgeworth’s glasses.

They stared at each other for a moment, stunned, Edgeworth’s hand still loosely wrapped around Phoenix’s wrist, as Maggey shouted apologies from the distance.

There are no cherry blossom trees where I live so I have no idea if we’re even in the right season for this or if cherry blossom trees even behave this way - but I’m basing it off of... you know when it’s that point in fall where if you shake a tree branch leaves will just scatter everywhere? That. 

Also RIP to the other four who were just having a grand old time fishing and then turn around seeing these two sitting really close to each other almost holding hands about two seconds away from a kiss... which they’d just interrupted...

And then — the most incredible thing happened, and Edgeworth began to laugh.

Phoenix could have catalogued all the laughs he heard from Edgeworth: the usual, short laughs often mistaken for a scoff by those who didn’t know him as well as Phoenix did; the triumphant, smug, courtroom laughs when he thought he had Phoenix cornered; to the quiet, restrained ones in private that were more of a hum than anything else. This laugh was new.

This was a full-on fit of laughter bubbling deep in his chest and spilling from his mouth, which Edgeworth quickly covered with his free hand, with the additional bonus of covering his reddening face. It wasn’t something hidden or faked or triumphant, it was genuine, and open, and Phoenix could swear it was one of the most beautiful sounds he ever heard.

Miles here is going through an emotional rollercoaster having been two seconds away from finally kissing the love of his life only to be interrupted at the worst possible time, which is just so on brand for the two of them that he can’t help but start laughing hysterically. Plus Phoenix probably looks absolutely shocked suddenly covered in petals, which doesn’t help.

Then the next two paragraphs are brought on by Phoenix Pining and also me wanting Miles Edgeworth to laugh more... 

From my notes for this scene:

They stare at each other for a moment and laugh, and Miles’ laugh just utterly captivates Phoenix and makes him fall so completely in love immediately and oh no he is screwed he is utterly screwed.

So pretty much I had to encapsulate the “falling so completely in love immediately” part which I decided to do by focusing on Miles laughing. I wanted to draw a lot of attention to that which is why there are so many paragraphs dedicated to Miles laughing and Phoenix thinking about Miles laughing.

Trucy’s laughter always made the world feel a little brighter, and made Phoenix feel stronger. Edgeworth’s laugh did the opposite; it dislodged something inside of him, it weakened him, it made the whole world go soft and fuzzy around him. Instead of illuminating all the good in the world, it turned Phoenix’s world into one person.

More focus on Miles’ laughter but also... kind of drawing attention to Phoenix’s reaction to this being different from his reaction to other people he cares about laughing? Because feeling warm and happy when seeing someone you care about non-romantically laugh is normal, but then I wanted to make it clear that this is a different sort of feeling for Phoenix. 

Also Phoenix has to realize this is a different sort of feeling for him because otherwise he could brush it off like he’s probably dismissed all of his romantic feelings throughout the years as “oh I’m just glad my friend is happy, and I rarely ever hear Edgeworth laugh so him being relaxed enough to laugh like that makes me feel happy too,” but it’s not what he’d expect if he just sees Miles as a friend. And it’s described as weakening in the paragraph because right now the subject of his romantic feelings for Miles isn’t something that Phoenix can fully or easily accept right now (as chapter 5 would indicate).

Edgeworth’s fit of laughter subsided, and he shifted his hand so he could look at Phoenix again, the hints of a shy grin peeking out between his fingers, his hair and his shirt and his face adorned with a sweet, gentle pink. It was like looking at an entirely different person — or, no, the same person, but with all armor off, all guards lowered.

Miles is very embarrassed right now but kind of... in a good way...? Like again, almost kissed the love of his life then rudely interrupted at the last possible moment, plus Phoenix’s whole reaction to the thing gave Miles the impression that Phoenix wanted to kiss him as well, so he’s feeling a little giddy. Plus he was just laughing a lot when he normally doesn’t do that. Overall he’s not used to expressing his emotions so he’s embarrassed and a little shy about it...

The part about Miles’ “hair and shirt and face adorned with a sweet, gentle pink” refers to both the cherry blossom petals (in his hair and clinging to his shirt and a bit on his face) and also him blushing quite a bit.

It all feels a little out of character honestly haha because Miles isn’t really the type to be blushing hardcore like this and be a little shy, buuut in this case I let myself get away with it because he’s dealing with romantic feelings he hasn’t ever dealt with at this level before, and it’s also out of character just enough to really strike Phoenix in the heart. You can just imagine him staring at Miles with the most lovestruck expression on his face because he hasn’t seen this side of Miles before and he loves it.

Phoenix’s heart stuttered in his chest, and may have stopped entirely.

He was screwed.

He was completely and utterly screwed.

And even Phoenix can’t deny that he’s super in love at this point. 

I think I wrote this part, changed the words “screwed” to “doomed” right before posting, and then switched it back again for no particular reason. The Vibe just felt a little off but oh well.

Then the next chapter skips over the rest of this picnic but honestly Phoenix’s brain skipped over the rest of this picnic as well. Imagine the two of them just kind of standing around in a lovestruck daze for a while. I think Franziska had to physically drag Miles out of there. no one knows how Phoenix got home, not even Phoenix and least of all me!

But thank you Mika for requesting this!! And for drawing such incredible art for me to base the chapter around haha!!!

#dvd commentary meme #the catch-up game #asks

[morfinwen]

For the Excessively Detailed Headcanon ask: 4 for Angela, 5 for Christopher, 12 for Reagan, 39 for Neal, 43 for Lanzo, 7 for Ash, 46 for Connie, 35 for Aidan, 20 for Q, 22 for Nate, 19 for Amanda, 23 for Niner, 42 for Elise, 11 for Julie, 26 for Jerome, 24 for Kayla, 18 for Hannah, 17 for Knife, 32 for Elarin, 31 for Meaghan, 38 for Leah, 48 for Avery, 1 for Ian, 8 for Lauren, 15 for Kira, 37 for Darcy, and 16 for Susanna.

Almost forgot the read more!

1. What does Ian’s bedroom look like?

Contained chaos. Poorly contained chaos.

He’s got a bed, a desk, a dresser, and an end table. The desk is the tidiest: the papers on it are stacked haphazardly, there might be a pen or pencil or two lying on it but most are in the drawer, and if something that doesn’t belong gets set on it there’s at least a chance it’ll get moved by the end of the week.

The dresser is mostly for stacking stuff on top of, and storing clothes he no longer wears but hasn’t gotten rid of yet. There’s usually a jacket or a shirt or some more awkward piece of clothing hanging off one of the knobs. 

The bedside table has his phone, its charger, and a variety of junk -- mail he brought to the bedroom to read, a comb he forgot to take back to the bathroom, a half-full (or half-empty) glass of water, a pair of socks he picked up to wear then forgot about, a single slipper set there while he was looking for its mate, etc.

There's sheets on his bed, plus a blanket if it's been cold lately, but if the corners of the fitted sheet are all pulled over the mattress, then it is tidier than usual. Whatever he’s wearing for night clothes at the moment, if he’s even bothering, will be anywhere from near the pillows (he has two very flat pillows that are usually in pillowcases) to hanging off the foot. The sheets, it’s worth noting, often have cartoon characters on them.

The floor is hidden under a layer of clothes, towels, shoes, blankets, boxes, sheets, books, etc. About the only things you won't find on the floor are plates or food-related items, anything that will attract bugs, as well as loose papers since those pose a falling hazard (everything else just makes him stumble). 

4. What would Angela do if she needed to make dinner but the kitchen was busy?

If there’s something near to hand that doesn’t require the kitchen, she’d have that, but most likely she’d wait until it was available. She doesn’t particularly like or dislike cooking, but she does not like fast food, and she’s patient.

5. Christopher’s cleanliness habits (personal, workspace, etc.)

There are places he cares about cleanliness, and there are places he does not.

Most of his living quarters, particularly the kitchen, are spotless. Dishes get washed and the table and counters wiped down immediately after eating. Clothes get folded or hung as soon as they’re dry, and dirty ones go straight in the hamper. Making the bed happens almost as soon as he gets out of it.

Christopher’s work areas, on the other hand, are disaster zones. Anything that might provide some inspiration, or is part of that thing from two months ago he’s still working on, or was used for that other thing two years ago he wants to revisit, ends up on a desk or a table or lying on the floor somewhere, and isn’t getting put away until he’s done with it. No one is permitted to touch anything -- he knows exactly where everything is (which is true, and he can prove it too), and it’s all part of his own particular organizational system (which is … less true; there’s some organizing going on, but it’s less of a system and more of a feeling), so leave it where it is.

His personal hygiene is hit-or-miss. Brushing teeth, usually a hit; showering, often a miss, unless he’s performing soon.

7. Ash’s favorite way to waste time and feelings surrounding wasting time

It isn’t necessary to schedule every hour of your day, but even after a few years of regular contact with Lanzo, Ash still does not have what Lanzo considers a proper appreciation for the value of lazing around.

That said, for years Ash has found it difficult to ignore the allure of a summer afternoon nap; particularly when it’s raining outside, he’s just had a mug of relaxing lavender tea, there’s a soft blanket and the entire couch is free to stretch out on … zzzz.

8. Lauren’s favorite indulgence and feelings surrounding indulging

If she’s had a really rough week, the first chance she gets, she’s having a hot bath, followed by a bowl of cinnamon ice cream while watching either a screwball comedy or a tragic romance, whichever she feels like.

Lauren’s got a fair amount of good old-fashioned Catholic guilt, but it’s heavily concentrated in certain areas and almost never touches other things. Some things she’s overindulged in and never felt guilty about, other relatively harmless things have kept her awake at night for hours. The above scenario usually doesn’t make her feel bad.

11. Julie’s intellectual pursuits

Julie is -- well, was, post-Allwinter -- attending college, for what would probably end up being a degree in History, but she likes reading about all kinds of different things. Mostly psychology and philosophy, but also about other cultures, geography, and nature, specifically trees and plants. She’s one of those jack-of-all-trades, master-of-none types, only more with knowledge than skills.

12. Reagan’s favorite book genre

Science-fiction or fantasy. A slight preference for the former, as she’s found it easier to find sci-fi graphic novels. 

With her dyslexia, Reagan doesn’t read much, so anything that is easily read, and more importantly easily visualized, is her favorite, regardless of genre.

15. Kira’s biggest and smallest short term goals

Biggest: Survive high school. In the third-largest city in the country. Where she knows no one. No problem! (said with major sarcasm)

Smallest: Find a way to remember her locker combination so she doesn’t need to carry around a scrap of paper with it written on it.

16. Susanna’s biggest and smallest long term goals

Smallest: Learn to do a handspring.

Biggest: Get elected president of the United States.

17. Knife’s preferred mode of dress and rituals surrounding dress

Customizable!

From a young age, Knife’s mostly gotten plain t-shirts and jean jackets that she could decorate herself, with fabric markers or felt patches or (for a very brief period in middle school) bedazzle. It was one of the few things she could keep doing after the accident, which changed it from just a hobby to a representation of her independence and self-image, and therefore practically sacred. Not that everything she wears is customized, just most of it. She’s also familiar with sewing basics, not enough to make her own clothes from scratch, but she can modify them.

As far as “rituals”, it is important to her to display something she’s decorated or modified the first time she wears it. She’s not looking for praise or even acceptance really, just acknowledgement. 

18. Hannah’s favorite beverage

Chocolate milk. She also drinks a lot of Sunny D.

19. What does Amanda think about before falling asleep at night?

Ideas for new articles. Sometimes ones she could reasonably write for work, others are something she might want to work on independently in the future, and still others are too niche or weird for publishing anywhere but are just fun to think about. 

20. Q’s childhood illness? Any interesting stories behind them?

When Q was very little, he was more prone to catching any bugs that were getting passed around him. As he’s gotten older, that’s become less of a problem, but he’s got a 50/50 chance of getting the flu in a given year. 

Once he was old enough to go to boarding school, and therefore came under the jurisdiction of his aunt and uncle, if he so much as sneezed or coughed suspiciously, that was grounds for him taking the day off school and spending it in his room instead, with a steady supply of fluids and soups, regular check-ups by staff, and a nurse if his temperature climbed a degree too high. 

On the one hand, it was great to get out of school, and probably prevented him from getting sicker in at least a few cases, as he didn’t get exposed to more germs while his immune system was already busy. On the other, it didn’t take him too many years to realize this was his aunt and uncle’s way of protecting an asset rather than any kind of familial concern for his health, which kind of ruined it as relaxation. 

Honestly, the worst thing about it (from Q’s perspective) is how very Rich Kid™ that was, and how much of an effect it had on him. The first few times he got sick as an adult on his own in LA were not pretty.

22. Nate, given a blank piece of paper, a pencil, and nothing to do, what would happen?

Doodles or little comics, poking fun at people who annoy or aggravate him but he isn't willing or able to confront. 

23. How organized is Niner? How does this organization/disorganization manifest in her everyday life?

From a certain perspective, Niner is very organized: she organizes everything into two categories, stuff she cares about and stuff she doesn’t. She keeps the two things very separate in her day-to-day life. Stuff she doesn’t care about gets ignored, left alone, or explicitly dismissed, while the stuff she cares about gets her full attention -- at least for a little while.

24. Is there one subject of study that Kayla excels at? Or does she even care about intellectual pursuits at all?

Kayla values intellectual pursuits, but they’re not of particular interest to her, generally speaking. She’s mostly interested in keeping the house clean, helping Hannah grow up healthy and happy, and just figuring out all the various aspects of being alive.

26. Does Jerome have any plans for the future? Any contingency plans if things don’t work out?

Pre-Allwinter, Jerome’s future plans mostly had to do with Hannah’s future (health, college, career, etc.) and eventually retirement. He and Kayla hoped to adopt at some point, since she couldn’t have kids herself, but at the time it wasn’t something they were directing energy toward. None of those plans were hard-and-fast, so they didn’t really require contingency plans.

Now, he has even fewer plans, as just figuring out how things work in the Allwinter and adjusting to it is a full-time occupation. He has an excellent support network now, so even if he does make plans that don’t work out, he’s pretty sure he’s in a good place.

31. Meaghan’s most prized possession

Her lightsaber. Not just because of its usefulness, but because how much it represents everything that’s happened since her exile and return to the Order. It’s different from her first one, in its materials, construction, and design, and shows how much she’s changed and grown. 

Also, it’s a fricking lightsaber. Not even Meaghan is immune to the awesomeness that is a fricking lightsaber.

32. Elarin’s thoughts on material possessions in general

Unlike Meaghan, Elarin followed the Jedi regulations on owning possessions because she had to, and because she didn’t have many opportunities to violate it, not because she believed in it. She hasn’t acquired many things herself, but while she understands the dangers of greed and the potential to get buried by one’s things, she thinks getting hung up on how many possessions someone has is missing the forest for the trees, or whatever the Star Wars equivalent idiom is.

35. What activities does Aidan enjoy, but consider to be a waste of time?

Meticulous fan wikis that document how many times a character shows up, or how many times a character in a 1,000-issue manga eats this particular flavor of ramen, or document every slang term used in a sci-fi series. It’s fascinating to read or think about documenting, but really Mac, don’t you have anything better to do with your time?

37. Is Darcy more analytical or more emotional in his decision-making?

He is much more analytical than emotional. Not quite as analytical or as immune to emotion as he thinks, but still very analytical.

38. Would Leah consider herself a Type A or Type B personality?

Still Type B, though that defined her better pre-War. 

39. What recharges Neal when he’s feeling drained?

Anything that can either be done alone, or in a group setting where talking isn’t expected, but keeps him occupied enough that his thoughts don’t overwhelm him. For Neal, painting, playing the drums or guitar, surfing, or sculpting fit that bill. The last two more than the former.

42. Elise’s hobbies

Tennis is the main one. She and an old friend from high school get together every so often for a game, and she’s taught Julie to play. She also jogs on occasion.

Elise isn’t as in to knitting or crocheting as other people she knows, but it’s something to do with her hands when she’s watching something: usually baseball, as she is a loyal New York Yankees fan.

If she has a few hours of downtime, she’s a fan of old-school Mario games and in particular speedrunning, without using glitches or cheats. She’s got a very respectable time.

43. How far did Lanzo get in formal education? What are his views on formal education vs self-education?

A brief Google search tells me little about education for medieval German nobility, but for Lanzo i imagine it involved a Latin grammar school (probably through a local church) and university. He was not a particularly diligent student at the time, and if there was some way for him to stay at home with a tutor instead, he would have taken it.

Formal education has its merits, but Lanzo is absolutely in favor of delaying college or skipping it entirely if you like. He's supportive of the idea of self-education, but from his perspective, how your life turns out is at least as dependent on luck as anything deliberate. He does recommend learning rudimentary finance stuff and something that will reliably give you work, however (if you can’t marry someone loaded).

46. Does Connie express his thoughts through words or deeds?

It takes him time to express anything, as he wants to think it through from beginning to end before he’s comfortable sharing them, but words, mostly. Not that he’s unwilling to follow through with actions.

48. How does Avery express love?

In love language terms, Gift Giving and Acts of Service (in game mechanics terms, giving gifts and helping out with personal side missions). For those she really cares about, she’ll make the effort to spend time with them even when they’re not doing anything interesting, but she’s a busy, active woman who gets distracted easily, so that’s less common.

Thanks for asking!

#ask #answer #OCs #ian grayson #angie mckendrick #christopher hardie #ash jackson #lauren winston #julie wilson #reagan travers #kira raines #susanna raines #knife (allwinter) #hannah taylor #amanda wheeler #q free #nate vasquez #niner #kayla taylor #jerome taylor #meaghan caoilfhionn (knights of the old republic 2) #elarin (knights of the old republic) #aidan michaels #darcy raines #leah tolkien (fallout 4) #neal fairchild #elise wilson #lanzo ramsey #connie lowell #avery hawke (dragon age 2)

[asthmark]

❝ comfortable ❞ l.mk

synopsis → “oh, i’m mark. mark lee.” he gives her a lop-sided grin, reminding you of a high school boy. the kind you would have a crush on.

word count → 3k

a/n → instead of admitting to the fact that this has been in my drafts since october what if i just said i was watching superm interviews and got inspired.. would anyone believe that??? anyway superm on the ellen show was a fever dream lol

your leg bounces nervously as your makeup artist touches up your look and you stare at the tv screen in anticipation. you were finally making your television debut. you knew you were blessed for the wonderful opportunity, especially for how new you were to the music industry.

you had started like nearly every other artist; posting covers on youtube. these were well received and gained a good amount of views and likes but your career really took off when you began creating original content. every time you would release a single, it would make it on the trending page thanks to your growing fanbase and exposure to the general public, who seemed to like you. soon enough, requests to interview you whether it be on radio, tv, or magazines were high and, thanks to your managers, you found yourself in los angeles, backstage in a studio, waiting for the ellen degeneres to introduce you to her live audience and thousands of viewers at home.

“don’t move so much, miss l/n,” the woman trying to apply your highlighter comments. “you’re smudging your makeup.”

you force yourself to sit still as you apologize. “sorry. pre-show jitters.”

the woman smiles, emphatically. “i understand, sweetheart. i would be nervous too.”

you’re quiet for a moment, debating if you should continue conversing with her. “can i be honest?”

she hums as she dabs a beauty blender into your cheek. “go ahead.”

“i am so nervous that i’ll mess up or say something stupid. the only thing close to an interview i’ve ever done was a q&a on my youtube channel. and at least i could edit stuff out then.” you huff. “if i make some kind of mistake on my tv debut, my career will be over before it even started.”

“well, think of it this way,” she says. “you went from a moderately popular youtube channel to the ellen show. that doesn’t happen for no reason. there are people out there who really admire you.”

you chuckle in disbelief. “it’s crazy to think about people actually wanting to see me. i still can't believe it.”

she giggles, softly. “they know there's something worth seeing.” at seeing your small smile, almost as if you were barely realizing your own star status, she laughs. “you seriously gotta wake up, girl. you’re famous!”

you smile at her, finding humor in her words. “thanks for the wake up call.”

you both direct your attention to the tv placed backstage that broadcasted what was happening on stage. you listen in to ellen’s monologue as she tells jokes and addresses current topics. before long, there’s a knock on the doorframe. you half expect a staff member to let you know that you’ll be on soon but instead you hear a quiet, “hello?”

you and your makeup artist both turn to the boy standing in the doorway. he's wearing a black jacket paired with dark, ripped jeans held up by a belt. he goes to bow, then remembers that korean etiquette does not apply and decides to wave as a greeting instead. you reciprocate the gesture. he stands with only one foot inside the room, almost as if he’s too polite to enter without being given the okay.

“did they send you to get your makeup done?” the woman who had done yours says.

he nods. “they said something about concealer and bb cream, i think?”

she smiles. “yeah, it’s basic stuff. come on in. what’s your name, dear?”

“oh, i’m mark. mark lee.” he gives her a lop-sided grin, reminding you of a high school boy. the kind you would have a crush on.

“well, mark lee, i’m lily. i’ll be doing your makeup, making sure you look pretty for the cameras.” she motions to you. “i'm just about done here so i’ll be right with you.”

“okay, thank you.” he shuffles in, his eyes glued to you and you hold his stare. he nods, a wordless greeting as he settles in next to you. in return, you throw up a peace sign and he smiles at your casual behavior.

“you know what? somebody used all the setting spray. i’ll be right back, i’m just going to steal some from my co-workers.” with that, lily darts out of the room.

it’s pure silence between the two of you until you spark conversation. “i didn't get to introduce myself but i'm y/n.”

“i know,” he responds, quickly. “i'm kind of a fan, actually. i mean, it’s practically impossible to not be. you’re all over the place. especially with the new single you dropped... which is a bop, by the way.”

you smile at his simply-worded praise. it was a nice switch up from the professional reviews you received from critics. “that’s so cute. i’m honored.” you miss the way mark’s ears turn slightly pink at your words. “but enough about me, what do you do, mark?”

“oh, me? i’m in the k-pop scene.”

you hum. “that’s a good genre to be in. which group?”

“right now i’m promoting with superm, it’s kind of like a side project. but originally, i’m in a band called nct.”

you lean forward at hearing the familiar name. “nct? as in, nct 127?”

mark’s eyes light up. “yeah! you know us?”

you nod, enthusiastically. “oh my god, yes! you collabed with ava, right?”

“we sure did. are you guys close?”

“i help her write lyrics sometimes.” you lower your voice down to a whisper for dramatic effect. “i wrote the chorus to ‘sweet but psycho’.”

the way mark’s jaw drops is almost comedic. “no way! that song got her famous, dude!” his lips curve into a playful smirk. “just because of that i’m gonna have to get you in the studio.”

you return the mischievous look. “is that a promise?”

“i’m back!” lily announces, giving mark no time to respond. she gives no warning as she spritzs you with the bottle she had gone to retrieve.

you cough, choking on the mist. “no heads up?”

“sorry, dear. you’re on in two minutes, no time to waste.”

you feel a chill go up your spine. it was finally time.

mark nudges your arm. “you okay?”

“a little nervous.” that proves to be the biggest understatement of all time because in reality your heart is doing somersaults.

“hey.” you stare at him, his brown eyes boring into you. “you’ll be fine. there’s nothing to worry about. you got this!”

you smile at his words of encouragement. he cared about you and you find that your heart is pounding for an entirely different reason now.

“i'll be here to cheer you on while you’re out there and i’ll be back when you’re done to tell you how amazing you did, okay?”

you nod.

“now get out there!”

“well, we have a great show for y’all today,” ellen says, clasping her hands together, having just finished her monologue. “i mean, it’s always great but the exciting thing is we have two musical guests today.”

the audience that cheered wildly is shown on screen. you almost forget about the knot in your stomach when you see some people in the crowd wearing shirts with the cover art and quoted lyrics of your last single.

“i see you guys are ready so, without further ado... let’s get started. our first guest is a soloist who has made quite a big name for herself in such a short period of time. she currently has three singles on the billboard charts, her most recent music video is number one trending on youtube, and she has a new ep coming out soon. here for her television debut, please welcome y/n l/n.”

you walk out from behind the stage, a huge smile on your face. the crowd screams and you wave to them until your hands become too occupied hugging the hostess who greets you with open arms and a proud smile. once the hype dies down and your entrance music fades out, you take a seat, opposite of ellen.

“how have you been y/n?”

“amazing,” you respond, letting your hands fall neatly in your lap.

“and why is that?”

you sigh, wistfully. “everything has been going so well for me lately. i mean, i feel like all these doors are opening up for me all of a sudden. i think i finally made it.”

“you’re just barely realizing that?” ellen exclaims.

you laugh, along with the audience. “kind of, yeah. it just all happened so fast.”

“is there an experience that comes to mind where you finally realized how famous you are?”

you try to think for a few moments before your eyes light up. “okay so, i was at a mcdonald’s like, last month and i went through the drive thru and ordered some nuggets and fries. so, i pull up to the window to pay and it’s around 2 a.m. so the cashier guy is super out of it, like he’s not even paying attention to me. finally, he goes to grab my card and he gets a good look at me and just freezes. like, full on shuts down. so i ask him if he’s okay and he nods so i try to hand him my card again but he goes, ‘no, you’re famous, you don’t have to pay’. and in that moment i just knew.”

“hold on, pause,” ellen announces, dramatically. “you’re telling me that you have been nominated as artist of the year, gained over ten million followers on social media and made your national television debut but the thing that really made you say ‘wow, i’m famous’ was a couple of chicken nuggets?”

“ellen, c’mon,” you begin, seriously. “it was a twenty piece.”

“oh, well, that changes everything,” she says, playing along with you, as the audience erupts into laughter.

the rest of the interview goes smoothly, running on jokes and sarcastic energy. you discuss your young age (thus resulting in some of your baby pictures finally being revealed to the world), millennial culture (the crowd went wild when you explained terms such as netflix and chill to ellen who claimed she didn’t understand yet her sly smirk said otherwise) and your upcoming ep (that you would be giving a sneak peek of later on in the show).

you continue chatting once the commercial break is announced and ellen showers you with praises, commenting how young talent never failed to amaze her, although it did make her feel old. you get to thank the hostess and tell her how much you appreciated her sweet words and the opportunity she had given you before the crew is dragging you backstage so you can prep for your upcoming performance.

you’re greeted by a “that was awesome!” and a high five one you get backstage.

you flash mark a full smile. “couldn’t have done it without my hype man.”

just then lily walks in to touch up your makeup.

“and my hype woman!”

she just rolls her eyes and chuckles as she reapplies gloss to your lips. 

“seriously though, y/n. why did you have to be so perfect? the bar is all the way up here now.” to emphasize his point, mark raises his arm as high as it will go.

“hey, i only tried hard because you’re up next. you’re a hard act to beat, mark lee. i mean, you’re charismatic, charming, witty; basically every talk show host’s dream.”

he scoffs yet you see how he avoids your gaze, your compliments obviously flattering him to the extreme.

a staff member walks by, cutting your conversation short. “y/n, you’re back on in one. superm is on right after.”

you and mark turn back to each other, speaking the same two words at the same time.

“good luck.”

ellen introduces you again, only this time you hold a guitar and stand in front of a microphone once you’re back on the stage. you perform a never before heard song but judging by the roaring applause and standing ovation you receive by the end of it, it’s another successful hit.

you bask in the amazing response and then you’re ushered backstage for the last time. you catch sight of the staff placing more seats on the stage as you exit and you smile eagerly, knowing exactly what’s to come. you search the hallways for your new friend, hoping you can catch him before the show goes back on air. you’re almost about to give up when you hear your name being called.

you lock eyes with mark who stands a couple feet away, barely hidden from the audience’s view. even from where you stand you can tell he has a nervous smile on his face. you jog towards him and to your surprise, he envelops your figure without a second thought. in return, you tentatively wrap your arms around him.

“great job,” he murmurs, breath fanning your ear. “i really did cheer you on.”

“i’ll make sure to do the same.” you hesitantly pull away from his embrace, holding him at an arm’s length away. “go get ‘em.”

he gives you a determined nod and you watch him rush on stage, the audience’s wild cheering increasing. their energy didn’t fade once throughout the interview and just as you had suspected, mark was doing wonderfully. he clearly thrived in interviews; his awkward, boyish nature enchanting everyone in the studio, yourself included.

ellen crosses her legs and clears her throat. “so, i have to ask you something, you know, for the fans.”

the group leaned forward in anticipation, awaiting her next words.

“are any of you dating?”

the crowd released noises of amusement at hearing the very personal question. you can’t help but feel intrigued although you knew ellen has always been quite the invasive person. you watched as the seven boys looked around at each other, unsure what to say but before their silence can become suspiciously long, mark ends up taking the question.

“why are you always so curious about this, though?” he blurts.

the audience absolutely eats up his response, cheering at his bluntness. even you find it humorous, shoulders shaking with a chuckle. that’s definitely gonna become a meme, you think.

“it’s my job!” counters ellen. “why are you so defensive?”

the crowd is very responsive to ellen’s rebuttal, ‘ooh’ing in amusement.

mark’s silence only pushes the hostess to continue teasing him.

“does it maybe have anything to do with y/n?”

your smile drops. had she seen you two? you’re not sure why you feel so exposed; after all, you had just been talking.

ellen’s lips adorn a sly smile at mark’s stunned reaction. “you seemed to be getting very comfortable with each other backstage.”

the black haired male stumbles over his words before he gets a semi-coherent sentence out. “we just, um—we just met.”

“oh really? you two looked like you had known each other forever.”

mark chuckles breathlessly, eyes glued to his lap, obviously at a loss for words. ellen stares at him expectantly so he mutters, “i like making friends.”

ellen, the audience, and even some of the band members laugh at his response.

“well, i’m sure there’s a lot of fans out there that wish they were your ‘friend’.” her tone makes it clear she doesn’t buy his excuse but she prods him no further, instead turning to stare into the main camera. “when we get back superm will be performing their title track ‘jopping’. during the commercial break, please feel free to place your bets as to how long mark and y/n will remain ‘friends’.”

the camera pans to mark for a couple seconds; his ears are bright red and his cheeks are dusted light pink, his makeup doing nothing to help hide the blush. his eyes dart around, anxiously and then they cut to commercials.

you shake your head, smiling at the entire situation and just how big of a dork mark was.

you attentively watch superm’s two performances, eyes mostly glued to a certain rapper. you sit patiently in the makeup room, waiting for mark to return backstage so you can congratulate him but he never appears. you try to conceal your disappointment, even when lily enters the room, smiling brightly.

“well, the show’s over, doll.” she removes her makeup stained apron and glances at you as she places it on a nearby rack. “hey, why the long face?”

you stare at your reflection in the mirror, no longer bothering to hide your pout now that your frustration had been made known.

“you did great, if that’s what you’re worried about. just ask mark.”

“he left,” you mumble. “i thought i’d be able to catch him before he left and we could… i don’t know, talk a bit more? i just really—” you trail off.

“like him?” lily suggests, too loudly for your liking.

your head snaps towards her, eyes wide, only confirming your feelings.

“don’t worry, dear, you can say it. i won’t tell ellen,” she jokes.

you sigh and slump down in your seat. “yeah. i like him.”

“well, then, i have good news for you.”

you half-heartedly hum, allowing her to continue.

she waves a piece of crumpled paper in front of your face. you grab it from her, staring at it curiously.

“what’s this?”

she nods her head at it, encouraging you to find out for yourself. “open it and see.”  

you obey, unfolding the tiny item. your eyes struggle to read the words inside but if you squint, they become clearer.

please call, me i would love to become closer ‘friends’.

(xxx) xxx-xxxx

it’s mark btw :)

you can’t contain your smile at the cute little note.

“he’s adorable,” you say, mostly to yourself but lily audibly agrees.

“he ran into me as he was leaving and begged me to deliver that message to you. which reminds me, i’m supposed to let you know that he wishes he could have stuck around but his schedule is ‘crazy tight’ so he had to ‘dip’. his words not mine.”

you nod, grin widening. “thanks, lily.”

“my pleasure. nothing like young love.”

you give her a glare although it’s all but threatening.

she folds her arms, teasingly. “so, are you going to give him a call or what?”

you’re sure she sees the phone in your hand and the way your fingers press the numbers on the keypad, excitedly but nevertheless, you decide to answer.

“i’d be crazy not to.”

#mark #mark lee #nct #nct 127 #superm #mark nct #mark x reader #mark lee x reader #mark imagines #mark imagine #mark lee imagine #mark lee imagines #mark fluff #mark lee fluff #nct fluff #nct scenarios #superm x reader #mark angst #superm imagines #lucas fluff #ten fluff #taeyong fluff #superm scenarios #mark lee scenarios #mark lee angst #nct angst #nct 127 scenarios #mark blurbs #mark lee blurbs #mark drabbles

[deansmyapplepie]

Gut Instinct

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Tags: protective!Dean, stranger!Dean, flirting, demon

Word Count: 1,110

(Gif not mine)

"Have a good night," you called after your last customer. As he drove away into the darkness, you let out a relieved breath, locking the door behind him. Technically, you had been closed for nearly twenty minutes now, but you had gotten caught up in a conversation involving the best classic rock artists of all time. This job didn't have the best pay by any means, but you stayed because of how much you enjoyed it. Back in high school, you had come into this record store one day and fallen in love. The rest, as they say, was history. Glancing down at your watch, you sighed. It was almost 12:30, and you hadn't even started the list of closing tasks you had to do before you left. You were more than ready to go home. In the past week, Maya, your least favorite co-worker, had quit, which, quite frankly, was fine with you. She had worked here for nearly a year, and not once had she done her job right. Although you had been hoping to not be the only person working there all the time, the only thing she had done was make your job more difficult. As happy as you were to have her gone, though, all of her hours had fallen to you, unfortunately. You sighed again. It had been a long day. Right now, you wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed and not get up for at least a month. At this point, you didn't even care if you hadn't eaten dinner yet, but you knew that your stomach would say otherwise once you got back to your apartment.

As soon as the door was locked, you didn't waste any time in getting back to work. It was your responsibility to make sure that the register's count was on before you closed it for the night, straighten up any of the displays if they were looking unruly, and just make sure you didn't burn the place down.

As you put cash from the register into the safe below the counter, the hairs on your arm stood on end. Someone was watching you. You made a conscious effort not to look out the large glass window as you glanced at the security camera feed. If there really was anyone out there, they weren't in the parking lot, at least. If they were, you would have seen them. Honestly, you weren't sure if that made you feel better or worse. It was entirely possible that the whole thing was in your head. But at the same time... you fought off another shudder. Your mother had always told you to trust your gut, and right now, your gut was telling you that something wasn't quite right. The thing was, you couldn't call the police. What were you supposed to tell them if someone came all the way out here just for nothing to be wrong? "Sorry, officer, I just had a feeling that someone was out there?" No way, you finally decided. This wasn't the first time you had felt paranoid during a closing shift, and it wasn't going to be the last. Giving a slight shake of your head, you went around to the other side of the counter to grab the broom. When you realized it wasn't in its assigned spot, you groaned, irritated. A parting gift from Maya. So, where the hell was the damn thing? Your stomach did a little flop when you noticed it across the shop, leaning right against the large window. Of course, it was. The one time you were freaked out about the window, you had to go right up to it. Typical. You steeled yourself, puffing up your chest as if that would help your courage.

"Come on, Y/N," you said roughly to yourself. "Don't be a pussy. It's literally just a window. It's the same as every single night. You already checked the security feed, and there isn't anyone out there." Letting out a ragged breath, you speed-walked over to the broom and grabbed it. You chuckled to yourself, rolling your eyes. "See? That wasn't so ba-" A dark mass rushed at the large window, smashing through the glass effortlessly. The broom clattered to the ground as the thing tackled you, effectively knocking the wind from your lungs. "Get off of me!" you screeched, screaming bloody murder as you struggled. The man pinning you to the ground laughed darkly, his eyes flashing to pure black.

"Pretty face." Straining against his hold, you let out another scream. "Oh, strong, too," he noted as he gripped you tighter. "I think you'll do quite nicely." The man's head snapped back unnaturally, and thick, black smoke, the same color as his eyes, poured from his mouth. The substance crept across your chest with a terrifying sense of direction as you continued to hopelessly fight.

"No!" The smoke drew closer to your mouth, threatening to overtake you. "No!” The sound of a gun firing echoed through the store, and the man on top of you jolted, his body flashing a bright orange before finally going limp. You pushed him off of you, scrambling back as you tried to catch your breath. What the fuck just happened?

"You okay?" Another man climbed through the now-empty window frame, being careful to avoid any remaining shards. You grabbed the broom again and stood shakily, brandishing the thing as a weapon.

"Stay away from me!" He held his hands up as a sign of peace, but the gun still in his hand didn't go unnoticed.

"Easy," he said placatingly. "I'm on your side."

"You shot him?" was all you could ask. The man nodded.

"I did," he answered honestly. "That thing that attacked you, that wasn't human, all right? It was a demon." You were seriously starting to consider the possibility that you hit your head on the counter when you stood up from the safe. Through the fog of your slight panic, a realization clicked.

"You saved my life." A total stranger. Why? The man, seeming to sense your air of bewilderment, gave you a kind smile.

"Don't mention it." This made no sense. Demons? What was this, some sort of fucking... Poltergeist shit?

"But how-" Police sirens cut you off, and the man glanced over his shoulder, heaving a sigh.

"Sounds like that's my cue," he admitted. Without another word, he went to unlock the door, much to your surprise.

"Wait!" you exclaimed. The man turned around, eyebrows raised in question. "What's your name?" you were finally able to spit out.

"Dean. Dean Winchester." He shot you a wink. "See you around, gorgeous."

Thanks so much for reading!

Like always, links to my masterlist, taglist, and inbox (requests are open!) are in my bio! <3

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