#Ⅰ. ⸻ ( replies )

[mcmmabear]

@orioncarnell

It'd been Aaliyah's first day as the veterinarian in Redwood. She had taken whatever time she could adjusting to the new routine, but it was hardly any attempt. For the most part, she stayed inside, besides letting Aris outside to meet with the other kids his age & walking with him to the school. She'd taken the twins with her each time, and with how young they were, everyone was coming up to her to see the new family.

This time, she'd walked Aris to the school & the twins off to daycare. She didn't trust anyone to babysit Kiyana & Aurelia, not on their own. She didn't know or recognize a single soul in that town. And Aris had already made his decision, he wanted to stay. And dropping the twins off at the daycare was like when she dropped Aris off on his first day of pre-kindergarten. Tears in her eyes & throat clammed up, she couldn't only say weak goodbye's, 'mommy will see you later, okay?' & I love you's. She parted ways & sucked up the rest of her tears on the way to the veterinary office. There she settled in an hour before anyone was supposed to show up in order to familiarize herself with her new work area.

When she was ready, she had the assistant call for the first client. As they walked in, Aaliyah stood up, plastering the best small smile she could on her face. "Hi, I'm Dr. Amana. Who am I meeting today?"

[girlfox]

-

[ghostgirl101]

Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅰ of Ⅱ

|| Word Count: 1.5K || Angst → Fluff ||

A/N: I had this as a big idea that I had to get down before the basic headcanons and stuff, so here's my take on our Lisan al Gaib 😎 if you like this then hit me up for some relationship headcanons and the like, I'm up for it all. Enjoy reading or watching the movie if you haven't already - I'm going again lol, and screen X is the best way to experience it fr Also I feel like I should write a second part to this lmao, if you liked what you read?

You weren't one for dreams of destiny.

The dreams you had seemed meaningless, confusing, nothing to do with what ifs and what could. Not like his.

But you always seemed to feel some kind of atmosphere, an aura you couldn't quite shake off, even when you woke up from the darkness. There was no face to go with the voice, the voice in the dark that called to you in whispers that you didn't understand. Beautiful words that weren't yours, but sounded so soft and gentle and powerful, as they reached out to you from distant lands.

You could never place them, pin them down and study them, understand them, until the day the Emperor was challenged by a ghost of a lost House, thought to be dead, left to be forgotten. You stand near the Emperor and his guards and men, the Great Houses looming and listening from higher above, as the Fremen fill up the space to watch the confrontation in spirited anticipation.

The life debt was paid. The late Emperor was overthrown. The ascendancy of Paul Atreides rose and took from the throne to claim it.

His attention flicks from his eyes boring coldly into the Emperor's, to meet yours, his voice smooth and set, full of conviction and force.

"Our destiny is together. I'll take her."

Your eyes widen slightly as his words sink in, blinking through the shock and incredulity that rushes through you and makes your heart race in apprehension and wonder. Though his voice twins with your wandering dreams, you don't know whether to feel fascination and longing, or fear and cautiousness at some greater force beyond your understanding, playing out before your very eyes.

"I..." your voice falters in uncertainty and disbelief, and you try again. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me well," Paul responds with an undying, stoic certainty that's almost unnerving. "As I know you."

His eyes study you, his Spice-stained blue eyes bleeding into yours, scanning every freckle on your face and curve of your outfit. Assessing you, knowing you, ridiculous throngs of power filling his aura and projecting onto you with his intense stare. You have to fight not to shiver under it, ultimately failing.

"What of me?" is the wisest reply you can think of before the silence stretches into dangerous uncertainty.

"Everything," Paul says evenly, but there's no mistaking the challenge and determination in his tone, almost daring you to reject him, to disagree, a built-up desire of dreamt promises resolving his stand. "I choose you, as my Empress. We will rule together, over the Empire."

Scepticism and bewilderment washes over you and makes your blood heat and stir, retreating into silence as he takes a step closer to you, gazing at you as if you're the most curious, exotic being he's ever seen.

Desire threatens to override Paul Atreides' reason, clinging onto the hope and chance of a narrow way through to light, a light that could only be sought out with you by his side. Without you, there was nothing in sight but pools of blood replacing luscious marine life and oceans running through Arrakis, disarray and disillusion at every turn and infecting every heart.

You were absolutely perfect.

And you were already his, long before this moment, before you and he were born into the world and named. There was no manipulation needed, because everything was laid out for him to take, welcoming him to rule and grow higher and higher. Fate had bonded you and strung you along to here and now, and as you blink up into his bright eyes that narrow slightly at you, frowning softly as if you hadn't understood his demand.

"Do you know what I am?"

You pause for a moment, speaking slowly and cautiously, as the crowd of Fremen and the wary, late Emperor watch on in tense wordlessness. "You are Leto Atreides' son. Former Duke of Caladan."

"What I am," Paul repeats evenly, "not who I am." He stares at you in silence for another beat, before speaking up again. "Do you know of the Bene Gesserit?"

You stop yourself from glancing in Lady Jessica's direction just in time; the runes patterning her skin, her once soft eyes now spiked with an unfamiliar darkness of ages past. Anyone could get trapped in her watchful glare, and her son's holds almost as much intensity.

"No," you decide on hesitantly.

"Kwisatz Hederach," he adds, taking another step forward until you can feel his breath tickling your cheeks, standing above you with unspoken grace and vigor. "I see the future. A part of me is the future."

His hand is suddenly squeezing yours warmly and tightly, making you flinch slightly and glance down at them before looking back up at him.

"In this future, I am with you."

All you can do is stare at him in awe and wariness, not knowing whether to let your curiosity guide you, or distance yourself as far as possible from the boy who reigns over the dunes.

"Why?" you whisper, the crowds seeming to fade around you as you focus on the boy in front of you, his fingers tangling with yours boldly.

"I've seen it," Paul insists, his tone a touch softer in thought and wistfulness. "All of it. When I am with you..." His grip tightens over yours, the fire in his eyes returning. "We're unstoppable."

"And..." your words dry before you can speak them, and you will yourself to go on, unable to break away from the deep blue hues of his gaze. "And without?"

His jaw visibly clenches at your question, and his hand drops yours, shaking his head only answer as he glances away in slight frustration.

"You don't have the leisure of choice. It's all been made for you, written in the sands and stars, and what you need to do is walk in its path. I will show you the way. You have no other. Do you understand?"

The firmness is strong in his words and glare, making you look away from him too, still in a slight stun over the rush of events. In less than a day, your freedom has been stripped to this young man's desires and destiny, entwined with yours. You, who barely knew him until now, only familiar with his voice, his words, that echoed and rang in your head like a lullaby.

But this feels so harsh and strict. The eyes of the former Emporer linger between the two of you, and Paul's army of Fremen stand behind him attentively, some gazing at you in admiration and hope, of their messiah's promised bride. And she is beautiful.

"That's unfair."

"The future is unfair," Paul says calmly, his collected, cool tone wavering for a moment. "But it will be so much worse without you by my side, and I will not accept that. Not for my people... not for myself."

You stare at him in fascination and caution, lost for words. His fingers rise to brush against the skin of your cheek, sending tingles in their wake and making you fight back the automatic reaction, your eyes following his surprisingly gentle touch. Two fingers trace down the shape of your cheek down to your chin, tilting your head slightly upwards. Just one step closer, and your lips would be touching too.

"Name anything," he murmurs to you, the Fremen straining to hear his voice as it reaches you effortlessly, his expression earnest and determined. "Anything. And it is yours. Only if you willingly wed me in turn. Not as a concubine, nor a mistress."

You blink, then blink again, taken aback as a million thoughts and suggestions race through your mind and make your head spin for a split second. You glance at the elder Emperor, who gazes back at you and the infamous Lisan al Gaib wearily, his eyes clouded with sombreness and light spite.

"I... I don't," you shake your head, overwhelmed by an impossible choice. "I don't know..."

Paul's expression softens into a smile you haven't seen before, one that makes your cheeks flush with colour as you watch him; a gentle, amused smile that's somehow familiar and unfamiliar all at once, one meant just for you, as he disregards his surroundings.

"You will know," he replies quietly, "and I will have you, and protect you, rule with you. Love you. As I am meant to."

Paul suddenly brings you closer, pulling you into a searing kiss without warning. The exotic, earthy taste of the Spice on his tongue floods your senses and sends shudders of ecstasy and heat coursing under your skin and hushing the myriad of thoughts buzzing in your mind in an instant.

When he pulls away, all too soon, you find yourself chasing his lips before you catch yourself, and Paul gives you another soft smile, his forehead resting against yours as your eyes lock.

"And as I long to," he finishes against your lips, his words grounded with a look of protectiveness and desire that makes you instinctively relax further in his hold.

⊹⊹⊹

From beyond you both, his mother smiles slightly at the scene, a hand hovering over her rounded stomach.

The first step has been made.

══════════════⊹⊱≼ part two coming soon ≽⊰⊹══════════════

[burgeoning-ambition]

Business Japanese Review Part One: Emails!

I'm not sure how many posts I'll make about Business Japanese, but probably more than one so I say the part one is warranted, haha.

Feel free to add anything or any questions in the notes! Like I said, this isn't a fully comprehensive infographic. Also, what do people think of the lined paper style background for the title page/intro? I think they look kinda cute for the introduction, but not for the informative parts...

One thing I will add that I couldn't fit on the slides: I think some textbooks don't have super clear distinctions between 「謙譲語Ⅰ」　「謙譲語Ⅱ」 and 「ていねいご」, so I only specifically mention 謙譲語 broadly here. Parts of 謙譲語Ⅱ and ていねいご are both described as "extra-modest" in some things, for example! Just keep in mind that my post is a simplification, and if you're interested in formal language, maybe start at learning all of the different keigo categories and what they involve!

Vocab list note: The set phrases in the greetings and closings are all comparable to set phrases in English for greetings and closings of emails. I'm putting these set phrases in their entirety in the list, with a comparable English set phrase as the definition. Do not take these as equivalent phrases! They have a similar feeling, but I am not asserting that they have identical meanings. I'm just offering something comparable in case it helps a person make more sense of them!

The full vocab list + a transcript of the post is under the cut!

Vocabulary List

試験（しけん）－　Exam, test

質問（しつもん）－　Question

食事会（しょくじかい）－　Dinner Party, Dinner Meeting/Lunch Meeting/etc.

お知らせ（おしらせ）－　Notification, Notice

会社（かいしゃ）－　Company

営業部（えいぎょうぶ）－　Sales Department

部長（ぶちょう）－　Section/Department Head

「いつもお世話になっております」　－　This is a basic email greeting, similar to "Good afternoon" or "Hello, [name]" even though the meaning doesn't match at all!

「だんだん涼しくなってまいりました」　－　Similar to "I hope this email finds you well"

さて　－　Now, Well, Then

謙譲語（けんじょうご）－　Humble Language / Extra-Modest Language

下記の通り（かきのとおり）－　The Following

返事（へんじ）－　Reply

「お待ちしております」　－　Similar to "Awaiting your reply"

「よろしくお願いいたします」　－　Similar to "Thank you"

「取り急ぎお返事申し上げます」　－　Similar to "Please get back to me soon"

申し上げます（もうしあげます）－　To Offer, To Extend (thanks, congratulations, greetings, etc.), To Do, To State（謙譲語）

以上（いじょう）－　Since, Seeing That, Above-mentioned

なお　－　Furthermore, In Addition

日時（にちじ）－　Date and Time

午後（ごご）－　PM (Time)

場所（ばしょ）－　Place, Location

集会室（しゅうかいしつ）－　Meeting Room, Assembly Room/Hall

[mcmmabear]

Aaliyah had a long day. The bags under her eyes were evident. The twins had kept her up, making her sleep impossible. Aris, on the other hand, was able to sleep just fine. His room's walls were slightly thick enough to block out their low-level crying. Their mother wasn't so lucky. And it'd been a day at the clinic. Not too many pets but enough necessary tasks that took longer than she'd expected.

When she opened the daycare door, she yawned but covered it with her mouth. It wasn't hard for the woman to spot Aris, who was talking to Lucy. She walked over & forced the corners of her lips up. She was tired & wanted nothing but sleep. Hearing the twins were asleep made her hope they would stay that way the rest of the night. Aaliyah turned to Aris & nodded towards the door. "Go get your sisters, will you?" He nodded & sauntered to the room next door. She turns towards Lucy again. "Thank you for watching them. Were they easy on you?"

starter for @mcmmabear at the School/Daycare

"...and, frankly speaking, I don't trust the littles to keep their hands away." Shit, Lucy didn't trust adults to keep their hands clear of exothermic reactions. Didn't have the supplies either way, but Aris didn't need to know that. In Clackamas, the older Bells always did their best to hide the lacking from the littler kids as long as possible. In the lab, they'd improvised the fuck out of what they had to work with.

They spotted his mama hovering, and waved her in. "Hey, welcome back!" A last nod to her son and Lucy left him to meet the mama bear. "The littles are a door over, snoozing away and probably loading up a surprise for you. Want I should get them or do you have a minute for jawing?" All the kids kept a person hopping, but checking in with the teacher was - supposedly - helpful.

[ghostheartfelt]

*:･｡☆ tags: cafe cuteness (fr), regular customer au, sunshine reader, grown attachments, pervert!venom, fem!reader, first introduction, no use of y/n, she/her prns used

〔☆〕 desc: you meet eddie during morning rush hour, vv understanding man who admires your connection with your customers and dedication towards your job. eddie's hungry for chocolate (n you), you pique interest in the host and his symbiote. very calm and soft start<3 u get both povs basically cause the way i write can b confusing :)

.. ☆ next part | masterlist (tbe)

—✩ RUSH HOUR P. ⅰ ✩—

word count — 1.7k

a/n: u get both povs basically cause the way i write can b confusing :)

Rush hour, you thought.

Your coworkers were racing in and out of the kitchen holding platters of fresh baked muffins and pitchers of orange juice.

In the evenings, the café is quieter and calmer - in the mornings, not so much.

You turned as someone called your name and nearly jumped out of your skin.

“Can you get the back left corner table napkins and jelly packets, please? That old woman is just about ready to throw her handbag at me,” your coworker, Becc (short for Becca), had asked you while balancing dirty plates going down both of her forearms.

“Yes, yes, I can—“ you nodded, waving her off as you rushed to the check-in desk, grabbing at a few jelly packs; orange marmalade, grape, and strawberry, as well as a new pack of napkins.

You did as Becc asked, bringing the items to the old woman who indeed was clutching her blue leather snakeskin handbag. “Sorry, ma’am, we’re a bit busy this morning.”

With no reply, she snagged an orange marmalade jelly packet from your hand as you were placing them on the table, causing you to flinch at the sudden action.

You as well unpackaged the napkins and placed them in the metal stand, then fixed your apron and walked back to the front desk as the welcoming bell’s ringing filled your ears.

A male in an olive green jacket and denim jeans, a gray undershirt, and black converse made his way towards the dine-in counter where you stood behind.

He had a scruffy yet handsome face, his hair slightly unkempt but in a way that you admired him. Your cheeks slightly flushed.

“Good morning,” he nodded at you respectfully.

“Good morning,” you replied, “just a table for one?”

You picked up a menu, clutching it to your chest as your fingers trace along the plastic cover.

“Yeah,” his eyes nervously dragged around though you let it go and took it in as some sort of social anxiety.

“Right this way, sir,” you lead the way, your head turning over your shoulder to make sure he hadn’t zoned out, turning it once again at the sight of him trailing behind.

“Will this booth work for you?” you placed the menu down and he slid it over with his thumb and pointer finger.

“Oh, yeah, nice cushioning,” he laughed nervously.

“Perfect - any drinks to start you off? Perhaps an O.J, or a coffee?” you straighten your posture, your shoulders slouched awkwardly.

“Coffee sounds great, side of cream of sugar, if that’s okay?” he looked up at you.

You were a nervous wreck, and he could tell - they could tell.

“I’ll have that right out for you,” you turned and took a step, though he put his hand on your shoulder.

“Shit, sorry, just uh—can I get a chocolate muffin as soon as possible?” his lips overlapped one another as he let go, though you blinked and smiled.

“Of course, I’m sorry, I should’ve asked if you’d like anything on the side.” You bit your bottom lip with embarrassment.

The man was rather distracting, your eyes dragging over and analyzing every feature his face held. He had blue eyes with soft bags, tiresome dark circles and a muscular build. You had an oddly specific type.

“Oh, no, don’t apologize,” he scoffed with a small smile.

You smiled back and turned on the heels of your white sneakers and headed to the kitchen.

“SHE SMELT DELICIOUS,” a deep and grim voice echoed in the brunette’s mind.

“Quit smelling random people like some pervert, V,” the man whispered to himself.

“NOT RANDOM, JUST HER,”

“Well, we can’t eat her,” he bit the flesh on the inside of his cheek as he looked outside the window, his forehead in the palm of his hand.

“WE WILL NOT,” the voice snarled deeply. “GET TIRED OF CHICKENS.”

“I know, V, but you can’t just go around the city beheading random people, so for right now we need to deal with chickens.” He grunted.

“BUT THEY ARE BAD, BAD PEOPLE SHOULD SUFFER AND DIE,” the voice grew louder, irritated by his response. “WE KILL, WE SAVE!”

“Yeah, well, we kill, we also risk our lives, V.”

“SHE IS COMING,” it snarked, evading his head.

The brunette turned his head to watch you walk over to his booth, a muffin and a cup of coffee on a large round tray that you balanced on your open palm, waving at frequent customers with a tug at both corners of your lips.

“I’m sorry for the wait, sir,” you grab the plate and set it on the table along with the mug of java.

“Just call me Eddie,” he nodded as thanks, taking a bite out of the muffin.

You introduced yourself, drumming your fingers on your server book before opening it. “Did you want anything else this morning, Eddie?” You clicked your fuzzy purple pen as you spoke with a bubbly voice.

“WE LIKED THAT,” the voice boomed through his head again causing Eddie to swallow thickly.

“I think we—I’m okay,” he stammered slightly, a nervous smirk curving one corner of his mouth upward.

He was cute, your hip dropped to the side slightly. You bit your lip to suppress a smile, instead giving a small laugh.

“Just wave at me when you’re ready for your bill, okay?” you close the book and turn once again to assist another table.

“HUNGRY,”

“Alright, V, just hold on a second,” Eddie peeled back the cover on the small creamer packet, then poured it into the coffee along with two packets of sugar.

Your fingers dig into the pocket of your apron to take out a few crayons wrapped in plastic and place them on the table along with a kids menu. A small ravenette boy with curly locks and smooth dark skin smiled at you brightly as he took out the green crayon and coloured in the small dinosaurs sprinkled across the kids menu.

“Thank you,” his mother sipped her cup of hot tea, her french-tip nails clicking against the glass as she loops her finger through the handle.

“Of course, what can I start you two off with this morning?” you leaned on your toes, then met back with the ground.

“For him, I think just a small pancake—“ she gently tapped the boy’s knuckles with her thumb, then began signing in what you assumed was American sign language.

You observed closely, watching in awe as he signed back to his mother, an exciting smile never leaving his face as he signed a “thank you,” to you.

You knew a bit of signing from your highschool years, so you replied with “you’re welcome,” enthusiastically, hugging yourself to gesture an air hug.

“A pancake is fine for him, some fruit on the side?” she smiled. “Is pot roast on the menu right now, dear?”

“Yes, there’s about ten more minutes until it’s done, if that is alright with you?” you wrote down the mention of extra fruit in your book.

“As long as it’s fresh, am I right?” she let out a heartwarming laugh, earning a small giggle from you as well. “Oh, and three cornbread biscuits.”

“That’s when it’s best, and sounds great - any juice for the little one?” your eyes dragged over to him craning his neck to sip out of the plastic cup of water that was given to his mother with her tea. Your heart fluttered with baby fever.

She caught his attention once more, signing with her fingers.

“Sprite, thank you,” the mother rejoiced.

You toyed with the hem of your apron. “I’ll have it right out for you two,” you scrambled toward the kitchen.

“WHERE DID SHE GO?”

“She’s helping others,” Eddie swirled the little bit of cold coffee in the bottom of his cup, slowly adjusting himself as he watched you set down a small plastic cup with a yellow lid in front of a child, then a bowl in front of his mother.

You place a straw on the table, then walk back to the brunette who had introduced himself as “Eddie”, which you admired. It fit his face well.

“I’m so sorry for the wait, Eddie,” you smile nervously with your eyebrows pinched together as you hand him his bill and a pen.

“Hey, it’s no problem, seriously.” He took it from your hands, scanning it over. “Thank you,”

“Of course,” you quipped. “Tell me if you need anything, I’ll be back,”

“LITTLE MORSEL,” the voice purred. “WILL WE COME BACK, EDDIE?”

Yeah - yeah, we will, V. Eddie watched you leave to assist another group of people walking into the small café as he took out his wallet, setting down two twenty dollar bills for a tip and his credit card for the rest.

“WANT TO MEET HER,” it grunted.

No, we might never even see her again.

“YOU ARE A LOSER.”

You sped back over, exhaling heavily. “It’s getting busier and busier, I’m sorry for the delay of getting you out the door,”

“No need for all the apologies, seriously,” he scoffed.

“Right, sorry—“ you blinked. “The tip, Eddie, that’s so much,”

“THAT SOUNDS—“

Knock it off, perv.

“I was a journalist, that’s nothing to me,”

Your cheeks flushed, but you thanked him again and guided him to the front desk.

“Any chance you’ll be here tomorrow?”

“YES!” it boomed.

“Actually, I won’t,” you hum sadly.

“NO—“ it snarled.

“But I work every Wednesday through Saturday,” you smiled.

“Okay, good to know,”

Your heart thumped in your chest, you were frozen in place in fear of him actually having the ability to hear, which Eddie himself couldn’t - but he could.

“SHE IS NERVOUS, EDDIE,”

Of us?

“OF YOU,”

Did Eddie want to get to know you more? Or possibly were you just that good of a waitress? God, now you were really overthinking things - is that why he tipped you so much? Did he not actually pique interest in you?

“Are you alright?”

You were so captivated in thought you hadn’t even realized you were still holding the brunette’s credit card in the machine; blinking for you to take it out - you felt your ear tips heat up.

“Sorry, I space out sometimes,” you gently pulled out his credit card and handed it to him, which he grabbed with two fingers.

“Not a problem,” there was a genuine tone on his tongue that delivered you some comfort.

“Have a great day, Eddie,” you waved to him as he left the building which he warmly returned; your heart feeling a sudden loneliness as he escaped your peripheral view.

[idyllvcs]

SWEET, SWEET THING

Ⅰ. NEUVILLETTE X GN!READER ⅠⅠ. TAGS : fluff, two kisses, established marriage, horrible usage of french, mention of accidentally burning urself when using the oven once, maybe self-indulgent. ⅠⅠⅠ. WC : 480 ⅠV. SYNOPSIS : your husband resolves to your failed baked goods V. A/N : i do not have a hydro char problem.

neuvillette, who swallows down the failed baking mishap you concoct once every week.

neuvillette, who gracefully waves off your protest in him swallowing down said baked goods to put a smile on your face. 

neuvillette, who smiles softly whenever you huff at the flour spilling. 

neuvillette, who hates to admit that his eyes peek over whatever tabloid or article he’s reading to watch over you when you’re in the kitchen just in case you might hurt or burn yourself (like the last time you attempted to shove cake batter too hastily into the preheated oven)

neuvillette, who arrives home late from court and sits down at the kitchen table to eat a newly made batch of sweets you made, good or not, to see the ecstatic look on your face the next morning.

“mon amour, i told you not to eat these…” you mumbled, staring at your husband who’s smiling languidly at you from across the kitchen counter. he held onto the last piece of another failed madeleine– one that he could already tell was overbaked and dry the moment he laid eyes on it. 

somehow– somehow, the small intermission you had to clean up yourself after your time in the kitchen gave him a window of opportunity to finish the plate of madeleines you baked. “i insist. and i already did so,” neuvillette replied softly.

the ludex of fontaine, chief justice neuvillette, is often perceived and known for his high authority whose character not even the public could pinpoint. but, even the citizens of fontaine wouldn’t assume that their chief justice would be the person to swallow down a plate of baked goods so his spouse won’t feel an ounce of hurt or disappointment. 

“your attempt at madeleines is not to go to waste, ma chérie,” he blurted out. the taller man finished off the last of the small cake in his hands and stepped towards you. “it is supposed to be delicate and airy– and light–” your rambling was cut short when neuvillette takes your hand. 

your chest flutters when he pressed his lips against your knuckles as if he was afraid that his kiss would harm the exterior of your skin. “you had one small misstep,” he mutters against your knuckles. “you did everything else perfectly.” 

his voice rumbling against your skin was enough to make you forget what you were huffing about earlier. you’re sure you actually forgot when he tilted his head up to press another kiss but this time on your forehead.

[seventhcallisto]

Chapter ⅰ. "loved by."

— His Cologne.

An/Cw; innocent forehead and neck kisses. Touching. Some arguing. Briefest mentions of domestic violence and scars(other characters). Lots and lots and LOTS of world building. Read prologue, or you'll be v confused. Idk how to word count on here or know how corporate people talk goodbye. (Also I don't have favorites, i love all my men equally)

Wonwoo had another toss and turn night. He's gotten less and less sleep these past weeks than he's ever had in his entire life. His mind can't stop wondering. He's plagued by nightmares of their missing soulmate. The one who begged as she pulled away. Cried like she was being tortured. It transfers into his dreams. Haunted him when he woke up grasping the sheets. Gasping for air every time. Only to realize she wasn't there next to him.

"Hey." Mingyu side steps wonwoo, having just woken up himself, the house was fairly empty, many of the guys were doing their shoots, filming, and/or out. Because of that, wonwoo and mingyu have the house to themselves. The only sound of birds chirping could be heard through cracks in the windows. Gyu pulls a bowl and a bag of cereal, pouring himself some. He glances at wonwoo, occasionally watching him stir breakfast in a large pan. After pouring some milk, he leans against the kitchen counter. Eyeing wonwoos quiet behavior.

"What's wrong?" Yes. He already knows the answer. He can feel something has been awry with wonwoo since.. well. A while. "Nothing.." he lies with a sigh, looking over his glasses at mingyu. Gyu slurps the cereal off his spoon. "Bullsh1t," he mumbles through a mouthful, wonwoo grimaces. "You've been off for weeks, don't tell cheol I'm saying this, but.. You're not telling us either. Not even i know what's wrong.." mingyu looks up through his lashes, stirring his cereal half hazerdly.

Before wonwoo replies, mingyu is chewing through another bite. Wonwoo sighs. His eyes are cast back down to his wrist. The golden goldfish taunts him. "I met another.. one of us, the fourteenth one." it's so casually said. Gyu chokes on his bite. Coughing and sputtering into the sink. "What? Like.." he points to the spot right under his own ear. There's a mark there, small, barely noticeable. It's uncompleted and messy. Saturn, surrounded by its rings.

Wonwoo nods.

You're gonna get fired, but maybe it's what you deserve. Your boss was somewhat upset you left without saying goodbye. Eunha has always been a kind soul to you. You've spent all your time sucking up to her for weeks. Anything to distract you. You mindlessly play with your ear. Caressing your own soul mark. Everyone is born with their own soul mark. It isn't until later their soulmates' mark comes through. You were born with saturn behind your right earlobe, tiny specks of the galaxy shining behind it, the colors vibrant against your skin tone.

You're taking a walk after work. Already dressed to visit some places you had on your bucket list. Not to toot your own horn, but you're feeling better. There's nothing wrong with pampering yourself every once in a while.

"Thank you," you tell the cashier as she checks you out. Bags upon bags lay on your arms when you step out back into the street. Shops line back to back, you glance at each. Taking your time. Spring is almost in full bloom. You find yourself wanting to go out more to enjoy the things you haven't taken the time to before. Your eyes scan every sign, every decoration you enjoy or find adorable. You slow to a stop in front of a bus stop. You glance at the advertisements and help wanted posters.

'Soul mark removal session - book by appointment,' the paper reads. 'Lee Hyun,' the soul doctor in the paper smiles brightly. You want to look away, to pretend you didn't see it for some reason. Yet you reach out and pull off a piece of paper with a number. Turning it over and then shoving it in your pocket.

Not even the next hour you're calling the number, your fingers tap against your marble counter as you wait for the dial tone on speaker. You're on hold for ten minutes. The price of morals is high on your mind. "Hello, this Jane with Soul Surge. How may I help you today?" Your conversation with the desk lady is quick, yet you're still tapping your fingers in anticipation as you continue booking your appointment. "And you will be billed two days after your first appointment. How would you like to pay? Alright.." her keyboard clicks.

"Alright, I have scheduled an appointment for you with Dr. Lee, would you like a reminder? " Before you know it, you're done talking and hanging up. An appointment next week. You sigh, the burden on your shoulder still feels heavy. You have to remind yourself to breathe.

The next week comes sooner than later. You're lacking with work because you're so distracted. You bite your lip and toss before sleep the day before. You stare at yourself in a mirror. The first time you've worn clothes that show the majority of your soul marks. Your face grows ever redder at what people will think. For such a young girl to have so many marks on her? It feels scandalous. You pull a jacket over. Although the weather reads warmer than it has all week.

You're called into Dr. Lees office. You're sat across his pristine white desk. "What can I do for you today?" He starts off, a kind smile on his aged lips. You sigh "well I have thirteen soul marks. And I would like to get them removed. " You emphase with your hands, eyebrows furrowed. "That certainly is a number, I admit I do not think I've had a customer with that many, but that shouldn't be a problem. May I take a look?"

You show him all the ones you can reach on your own. If he's surprised, you can't tell. He throws away his gloves, sliding back into his chair. "I'm able to remove only a few of your soulmates' marks on you at a time, but if I can remove your own mark fully, then with time, the others should dissappear." You nod. There is a solution, after all. "And, sorry but- I've heard that after the mark is removed, the person who removed them feels..lonely?"

He laughs lightly, "No, no, that is a complete urban legend." You let out the air you're holding. It's too good to be true. And you're right. "But the other people involved, the other soulmate or soulmates will go through major discomfort, uhm, it will go away in less than a year, permanently. If you are to get it removed, you will never be able to make a connection with your soulmate." his tone is somewhat cheerful. Yet the dread in your stomach builds as he goes on.

"Oh," you don't have a response to his words. He notices your face dropping. "But, like I mentioned. the discomfort feeling should go away within a year-long period." He uses his hands to emphase his words. "And these - the discomfort feeling. How does it feel for the soulmates involved exactly?" You press, pulling your bag onto your lap to hug it. Comforting yourself.

"Well. The effect should take place directly after the removal process. They'll feel a slight burning, like an ant bite sensation. Eventually, after a few days, it'll turn into an urge to itch the spot. The spot will swell and redden within a couple of weeks, and soon enough, week by week, pieces of it will be absorbed through the skin. The symptoms may vary depending on the person. Nowadays, there are creams to help with the symptoms and process."

You bid the Dr goodbye.

Before your treck home, you decide to visit some more attraction spots while you're in the city. You're happy you can afford the luxuries, but you've already overgone your budget this month. You watch street performers, and occasionally, you'll grab a treat to take home to eat as you walk. One snack won't hurt. Your hands are in your jacket. Enjoying the afternoon breeze. In the back of your mind, you're thinking about the decision you want to make.

"Oh, excuse me!" A lady not much older than you apologizes as she bumps into you, her stomach is wide with pregnancy, two kids sit in a double stroller, no older than a year. She has her hands full. "Oh no, that's my fault," you wave her off politely, looking at the stairs behind her. "Would you like some help?" You offer, she smiles gratefully. "If it isn't too much to ask.." she laughs lightly. You're holding the end of the stroller as you slowly decend the stairs.

Once you reach the end of the stairs, she's bowing her head, thankfully. "Thanks, uhm.." You tell her your name. "What a lovely name, surely to bring good luck, I'm Kim Jiung," you smile. "Are you a shaman, perhaps?" She smiles back, pushing the stroller forward. You follow with a short pace. Stepping side by side. "My husband is," she continues, "when i was your age, he was the most desired shaman on the block." she laughs as she reminisces. "I met my husband asking for advice." she stops the stroller and lifts her long sleeved floral navy blue dress all the way up to her elbow. Scars litter most of her arm.

On the inner curve of her elbow is a crown placed on a perfectly red pillow, the diamonds in the crown shift as she turns it towards you. "That's when I found my soulmate," she cheerily smiles, pushing the stroller once again. Your smile doesn't reach your eyes, yet it's a sweet story. "Because of the law placed for soulmates, i was able to divorce my husband at the time." A sad look crosses her face. "He was a women hitter. And a drunk. It got worse when I told him about my current husband, youngwin. The process took a year to complete." She smiles to herself at the end. "I wouldn't change the hurt for anything," her hand goes to caress her belly.

"Weren't you scared he'd reject you.. because you were married?" You ask suddenly. She's not taken aback in the slightest. "Never," she sighs peacefully. The sun sets to your left, and the sidewalk is void of many people. "He was the most understanding person in the world," she turns to look at you. "My parents never approved of my relationships. They didn't help me when my ex-husband got violent." She smiles sadly. "But my youngwin did," she turns to begin pushing the stroller again.

You stutter to a stop, watching as she takes a few steps ahead. She looks back to see where you are. Then she sits on a bench. She swings the stroller around to look at her babies, wiping her hand against one of their faces softly. "Healing takes a while on your own, but when you have support, it's much easier to get through the days," she coos at the kids softly. You feel sluggish as you walk over and sit next to her, the settling silence nips you.

You watch the children grasp onto their toys and laugh joyously at their mothers' tickles. Her soothing words bring out coos from the twins that make you smile. "How soon are you due?" You ask, turning to face her. She pats her stomach. "Only four and a half more months," she makes a motion, crossing her fingers. You laugh. "A summer baby, thankfully, I can not do any more winter due dates. i already have plenty of winter siblings," she finishes off, pulling out a snack for the twins. You hum quietly.

"I was an only child to three parents, even that was too much for them," you snicker. Leaning back on the bench, you watch the twins messily smack their food around. She turns to look at you.

"Sometimes children can make or break a couple." You know she doesn't mean anything by it. She's just feeding conversation. You're still reminded of that fateful June night. She takes notice of your silence and your distant expression. "I get it,.. it can be hard, but if you're willing to.. you know - talk to each other. That's always the first step to getting better." She smiles reassuringly. Squeezing the hand on your leg. "When my husband and I finalized our soul bond. I was scared of him not liking me - not my past. But me. It was hard for us to communicate." She sighs. Squeezing your hand again. Her eyes fall to your soul marks. Both on your wrists.

"But we got through it because he stayed, and he cared. And I wanted to get better for him, with him." she pats your hand. "Whatever it is, I'm genuinely sure it will work out for you." her gaze is soft and kind like a mother's. You find yourself giving a small smile back.

The week you met jiung your head swirled with unease, she takes some of it away with her advice. She's updated you on her life almost every day. You've become close friends, possibly even best friends in the span of the week. Although older than you she is definitely the more lively and extroverted one in your friendship. You don't mind though, her positivity is a breath of fresh air. Pictures of her twins, Jino and Jina fill your messages. You can't help but adore their chubby faces, their petite pregnant mom holds them up for one photo smiling gleefully, you assume her husband took the photo. 'They're getting bigger than me!' The text after announces.

Your appointment for your soul mark removal is soon. You're not nervous if you don't think about it every second. The man- soulmate you bumped into seemed well off, right? His clothing was designer. His glasses, too. He- and his other soulmates will be able to afford the solution cream.. right? Whenever you think about him too much, your heart flitters. You try to focus on the small things in your life. And not the way he stared at you. The way his name echos in your head every so often. The way your soul mark yearns to be connected with his. What it'll feel like to be connected with the others as well, how they feel, what they're like. Your mind betrays your wishes not to have those thoughts.

In the midst of night, you're cursed with dreams, Tangled into sheets, laughing with him. More than one person is there, every so often the bed sinks in and you can fel yourself pressed against another person. Skin meets skin in soft, innocent touches, just wishing to be close to each other. The sun beats through the sheets, creating an angelic like glow. You can never make out the murmurs and whispers. When he steps out of the blanket, you miss his touch. You feel empty without him. And then, you wake up, usually groaning at your mind for creating such a tantalizing dream. One you can't forget the next day.

Mingyu is no stranger to the looks his members give him. "What do you know?" Seungkwan is the first to ask, jutting his head at the older guy sitting in the makeup chair. He pushes on mingyu's shoulder, biting into an apple slice. "No, it's a secret. I promised Woo," gyu mumbles, crossing his arms. Across the room, wonwoo sleeps in his chair while the makeup artists finish. He's catching up on missed – well deserved – sleep.

"We're tied, remember? I have a right to know. We don't keep secrets," Seungkwan pouts, chewing the rest of his apple slice down. Gyu also pouts, a reactive thing he copies. Seungcheols chin falls on top of mingyu's head, eavesdropping the entire time. An urging look is in his eyes, encouraging mingyu to go on. He almost gives in. "No. I can't, it's something you have to ask wonwoo about." He sighs and turns away from his members.

Seungcheol and seungkwan share a look over mingyu's makeup chair.

The drive back to the house is long, and wonwoo attempts to catch some more zzz's on the drive. The city lights bounce off the glass, it's well past 9 o'clock. Wonwoo gets the farthest window seat in the back. Hoshi and seungcheol are sat next to him. Arms thrown over each other to share warmth, cheol' head falls on hosh's shoulder, the absence of his snores is a tall tell sign he's not really asleep. Hoshi is pressed up against the other window. He's on his phone, scrolling aimlessly through his timeline. Joshua, Dino, and Vernon take the middle seats, each one of them passing their phones around. They laugh quietly. Mingyu sits in the passenger, his eyes relaxed but not yet asleep.

Usually, a drive home like this would make wonwoo feel content. His soulmates being close by is enough to satisfy the need to be curled under a pile of them. He's lost in thought when the van comes to a stop at their building. Everyone begins to shuffle out. Wonwoo and mingyu are the last two to leave the van. Mingyu shoots a look at wonwoo when he steps out, watching his other member rub behind his ear, where the fourteenth soul mark is. Both of them - followed by their manager - walk into the building.

Everyone's already relaxed when they all get settled down. Movie night consists of seats being switched around here and there. Some don't even bother watching. Just lingering around on their phones or laptops, content to just listen in. Everybody needs some soul bonding. Lately, their energy is drained faster, even Jihoon can feel it. He sits on a single armchair, his laptop propped on his lap. His hoodie is rolled up his arm, while the rest of him drapes comfortably in the chair.

Jihoon mindlessly rubs his soul mark, the planet behind his ear. It stings every so often, like it would when he's been away from his soulmates for too long. He sees wonwoo most days doing the same rubbing motion on his ear. No matter how he tries to avoid asking wonwoo what's been going on, he can't help but feel he won't get an answer out of him even if he did. Wonwoo can definitely be secretive and stubborn sometimes. Jihoon glances to wonwoo and mingyu, talking quietly in the kitchen just around the corner. Only he can see them stare at each other, a heated discussion beginning to rise.

He tries to listen in, but it's too loud with the movie. The rest of the members are wrapped around each other on the couch, work clothing and blankets string about here and there, and they haven't had much time to clean up recently. Jihoon slips out of the living room quietly, leaving his closed laptop in his spot. Only cheol blinks an eye for a split second, watching jihoon go.

Jihoon quietly walks into the kitchen, which is dim except for the microwave light that pops popcorn every second or so. Wonwoo stands with his head hung low, defeated. Gyu turns to the sounds of shuffling, glancing between jihoon and wonwoo. Jihoon stares back, a questionable look on his face when he glances between the two quiet men.

"We need to talk," wonwoo says, crossing his arms over his chest. His eyes only meet halfway with Jihoons.

Your favorite place on earth was your bed, minus the crumbs. You had spent your first paycheck on it, and you don't regret it at all. It's a king size on the floor. You're perfectly content with it. You can lie and say you're always perfectly content. Today is a lie day.

Your face is squished against your sheets, and your phone is propped up on a pillow. Your appointment isn't until 12. You can feel every one of your soul marks pulse every once in a while. A hearty rhythm you've gotten used to, but you're highly opposed to. A pulling urge to get out of bed and wander the streets til you find who you're looking for. You rub your tired eyes. It was a strange night. Series of dreams plaguing your mind when they're still fresh.

You stand on the sidewalk, golden hues paint every corner. Jiung is no longer pregnant, and her kids aren't currently with her. Surely an image of her your dream made up. She talks mindlessly as you walk. Your eyes never stray from her. "You'll know what to do. The timing will be perfect. Everything will fall into place." She repeats every so often. You're in the most expensive outfit you've ever bought, one you used for clubbing when you turned 21, and you never wore again. Every shiney piece of it sparkles like diamonds caught on flash. In the next moment, you lift your head up to photographers and cameras flashing in your face. You go to shield your face, but you're already being pulled away by your shoulder. You blink your eyes, and you're in an airport now. Faceless strangers shove their phones in your face. A hand tugs on your own, pulling you along, another guides your waist. Both help ease the twisted feeling arising. You're crowded between people escorting you. As soon as you begin feeling claustrophobic, you fall into a weightless state. Floating mindlessly before drifting down into a bed. Your bed. Sheets are neatly tucked in, but blankets strew all of the area. As you continue to look, the bed seems to grow. You can hear the distant sound of clattering in your kitchen, yet you can't see anything pass the bed. Quiet talking and whispers, they're purposeful as if they're trying not to wake you.

You're falling back in, head laid on a broad chest. You can hear their heartbeat through their shirt. Strong and steady. Content. Their voice rumbles a melody, humming soft. Behind you is another chest pressed to your back. Their hand is tucked under your neck, soothing strokes to the base of your hair. Warm lips pressed to your forehead. Another pair falls on your soul mark.

When you wake up. You can't determine your own feelings at the reality of it. No one is pressed by your sides stroking your face and head like you wish. No one is pressing soft, delicate kisses to your forehead and neck. No one is humming to you. After you stretch and yawn, you're doing your morning routine. Humming the melody to yourself.

You crack eggs for breakfast. You tune turning more quiet as you focus on what you're doing. By the time you're done cooking it's 10. You don't have the appetite anymore, but you're obligated to eat something before your appointment. You eat what you can and get ready.

You're taking your time now. When you pull your socks on your finger strokes the infinity mark on your ankle, then each of your hands gently touch the shooting star and goldfish on your wrists. When you pull your clothes up past your thighs, you watch the branch get hidden, you watch It meet just over your hips. Fingerprints, the beautiful figure beneath your belly button, and the moon hide away. Then you pull your shirt over your shoulder. You eye the rose, glancing down at the blackhole on your collarbone. You cant see it but you can feel the pulse of the butterfly and the tiger on your back. You reach up to touch the back of your neck. The dragon shifts when you glide your finger over it. All of these intricate marks will be gone. Including your own. Your soulmates will feel the pain of loosing one of their own. You'll never meet them. Never talk to them. Never know the details about them.

What's gotten into you? Since when did you care?

Why do you care?

You're picking up your phone before you know it, you're breathing hard. Why are you breathing so hard? You take a few slow breaths. Your hands grip the phone tightly while you dial Soul Surge.

"I'd like to cancel my appointment."

The news hits the boys like a train. Wonwoo had not just single handedly refused to tell his soulmates about the woman, but mingyu had hid it too. Their other soulmate. "Why didn't you tell us this?" Seungkwan sighs. "Wait." Dokyeom interjected standing from the couch. "So that light was you two?" Dokyeom grabs wonwoos shoulders, shaking him. "I was right there! How does gyu know before I do?" Wonwoos face shows displeasure, many of the boys are about to intervene. Seungcheol pushes dokyeom back gently from wonwoos space. Kyeom can tell cheol is serious when he doesn't bat an eye at his outburst. He takes his seat next to Dino.

"Well," joshua buts in, he tucks a hand under his chin, his arm propped up on the counter. "Maybe she had her reasons to run." he can buy it himself. It's very possible. The room returns to silence. Cheol shifts from his feet, deep in thought. He stops short, leaning against the kitchen counter. "You two did connect, right?" Seungkwan asks before cheol can, and Wonwoo nods. woozi speaks up. "Then that means she and you will find your way to each other"

Letting the universe and soul connect doing its thing takes too long in mingyus opinion. Everyone decided so anyway. Mingyu was oddly the only one to object. At night, he thinks about it. What'd it be like to finally meet her. What kind of personality would she have? What her likes are. Does she like music? Does she know who they are? Is she a carat? His mind fogs at the number of questions. She's been running around his mind ever since wonwoo told him.

He finds himself restlessly trying to convince his members to step up so they can find her quicker. Maybe he's looking for someone to back him up. Mingyu can be personally driven. And maybe this is something he shouldn't be doing. He's out doing his own thing that day. He doesn't have any filming to do. So his hand reaches for his phone, turning his neck to the side and throwing up peace between his fingers. The fourteenth soul mark is on display. His phone audio shutters when he takes the photo.

Only five slides of him. A tight black tee with a low collar, he's perched on a ledge. One in a black tank in the gym, one of him drinking some type of drink. Mingyu. His name is in Hangul, on the side of the flimsy paper cup. His peace photo. Lastly, it is just a picture of the back of his neck. His head is turned. In every photo, the planet is in clear view. The majority of the time, he can't post pictures with the fourteenth soul mark. The company decided against it.

'It'll cause controversy to the public'

This time, he decides to break some company rules. " 🪐 " is the only thing in the caption.

It's the same day jiung drags you into town. "Girls trip!" She laughs so heartily, clinging to your arm at your front door. On her form is a yellow spring dress. And you're in a drop shoulder oversized tee, a pair of loose pants. She takes you to the most popular jewelry store on the strip, waiting in line. "Why are we here?" You ask, she doesn't tell you. "You'll know soon enough!'" She pouts playfully. And maybe she uses her pregnancy to get your spot in the store faster. You don't point it out.

A young lady tightens a metal of your choice to your right ankle, and the accents blend perfectly. Jiung gets a rose gold color on hers, baby blue accents that look perfect against her tan skin, and lastly, a single seashell pendant to match with her own soul mark. "You don't have to get the pendant," she tells you with a smile shuffling on her one foot as they tighten the bracelet to her. She knows you don't particularly take fond of your soul mark.

"No, I'll get the pendant," you smile back to reassure yourself. You watch now as the younger lady fastens the bracelet to your ankle. Zapping it into place. A permanent ankle bracelet is now tied to you. You're not upset at the decision.

"Thanks for coming with me, I didn't think you'd want to get one, though," jiung smiles, her eyes on her own ankle bracelet as she walks in her flip-flops. "Their designs were too pretty to pass up," you say, you both stop in front of another store on the strip. This one has a couple of cut-out boards on the outside. You don't recognize any of them except for j-hope of bts. It's chained down. You stare in surprise.

"People really steal those?" Jiung laughs like what you said is the funniest thing in the world. "I took the d.o one they had out a year ago," she reminisces. You stare in shock, jaw-dropping. "Jiung!" You scold, she pulls you into the store before you have anything else to say. Once you get over the initial shock of the store decorations, you're wandering around. A couple of albums catch your eyes. Your hand scans over the records.

Here and there are a few people. But it isn't crowded. A couple of young girls, no younger than high schoolers, scroll on their phones, taking pictures of the album section, the laugh boisterously. They switch off to take photos of each other with their newly bought albums. You make sure to stay out of their shots. Not far away, you're at the plush section with jiung. She talks to herself about which plush she wants. "Dwaekki or Quokka.." You zone out when the loud girls squeal.

"Oh! Mingyu just posted!" A confused 'huh?' Follows. Okay. Maybe you're curious yourself. You secretly eavesdrop into their quiet conversation, squeezing a plush you got from the shelf, its a wolf with only a shirt on, a content expression on its face. A notification peaks jiungs interest. It's a jingle pop. Her phone is in her right hand while the plush is in her left. She gasps. Your head whips around towards her, glancing over her shoulder at her screen.

There in bold reads; "SEVENTEEN 14TH SOUL MARK REVEALED!" followed by a collage of zoomed in photos of a guy, his hair is short but on the base of his neck is the planet.

Your planet. Your saturn. Glittered with galaxies behind him. When you go to double look, you can feel your neck crick in protest. Jiung calls your name. Shock on her face. She stares at your neck. Gosh. The one day you decide not to wear something that'll cover your neck AND you forgot your jacket. You slap your palm over your neck.

Your name is called again. Jiung has taken the plush from your hand, putting it back on the shelf. "Let's go," She says, so casually glancing behind you. You continue to stare, nothing coming from your throat. You follow her gaze. The two girls' heads shoot back down to one of the phones. "Doesn't it look like hers?" They whisper. Just your luck. "Ji, I-" she grabs your arm and marches to the front of the store, your head is downturned. This can't be real. How could all of this happen? How does-

The girls stop you. "It's you, isn't it!?" Their tone borderlines obsessive fangirls. "No, please move," jiung speaks for you, her arms hold you defensively by your shoulders. You're starting to regain your senses. The girls push your shoulder, acting playful "gosh I didn't know someone so ordinary would be one of their soulmates." The other girl pouts, "She doesn't look good enough for mingyu." her tongue clicks, both of them shove their hands over their arms.

Jiung goes to defend you. "Hey! Why are you two bothering customers?! This is the third time this month!" An older lady yells, she comes over with a book in hand. The girls look shocked, they bow their heads, and Apologize. Sneaking looks at you two that are heated. It's pretty forced. "ajumeoni! We're just talking!" "ajumeoni! Have you restocked the txt albums?" Their voices get high pitched. Shoulders bumping yours and jiung as they pass.

"Let's get you outta here," jiung sighs. She pulls you out the door.

You're in a state of shock.

Jiungs apartment is homely, fit for a family. Boxes pile upon each other. "Sorry it's messy, we're moving soon," she sulks, pushing a box with her foot. She takes a seat on her couch. Patting the spot next to her. You move from the hallway and sit. "Girl talk?" She suggests. "Or we can watch a movie. The twins are with youngwins' mothers. So I have until tomorrow off. " she shifts with her feet under her.

You don't think about it. "Girl talk," you sigh, staring into her dark eyes. When you explain everything. No, really. Everything to her. She takes it upon herself to rub your arm in a soothing gesture. "And.. then I canceled the appointment." You finished. She shifts to get closer to you. "Oh honey" she pats your hand.

"You are such a sad fool," she sighs. You pull your head up, looking at her. "Excuse me?" She stutters. "t-that came out wrong. What I meant was you're not giving it a chance to work out; I mean. I understand not being ready. I do. I don't know what you went through to have done all of that. And there's not a way to change the past. So you'll have to pull yourself out of this mess." She pats your hand again. "I recommend finding a way to talk to your soulmates, talk about it" you nod at her advice.

You exchange a few more sentences, and jiung is right in all cases and scenarios. "Everything will work out"

News spreads quickly in Seoul. You can't go outside much, and when you do, you always feel like someone is about to find out who you are. You usually grab your groceries as fast as you can. Always pulling at your shirt collar.

"Who are these guys again?" You ask on the phone, on your laptop, you're on naver searching up images. Jiungs kids can be heard giggling and fussing in the background. "They're seventeen. They're a 13 member boy group. You've heard of K-pop, right?" You say a simple 'uh-huh' "you know that song. Aju nice? It was pretty popular a few years back." "Nu-uh, nope," she sighs. "I was in America then," you respond casually. "America? Are you American?"

A notification pops up on your open browser. "BIGHIT Entertainment and PLEDIS Entertainment speak up about SEVENTEENS' 14th soul mark." Jiung speaks up for you. "Bighit and pledis are looking for their 14th soulmate," she mumbles through the speaker. "This could be your chance to talk to the company," she speaks your thoughts. You read the site briefly. "I think I'll email them." You nod like she can see it. Throughout the rest of your night, you fill out a detailed email, it takes you hours to come up with the right thing to say.

Everyone has given mingyu a piece of their mind and the silent treatment. But seungcheol? God. He's the quietest of them all. Mingyu is backstage, and many of the members stand around talking and / or getting their makeup retouched. He's not focused on anything particular, though. A frustrated sigh leaves his throat. He excuses himself from the makeup artist and walks over to cheol. Cheol stands tall, talking with jeonghan. His biceps flex against the stage outfit.

"Hyung" mingyu stops just shy of the two members. Jeonghan shoots a look at mingyu. One he knows says he's still upset at him. I mean, the whole reason they're not on strike right now is because this was pre-planned. Immediately, mingyus post was taken down by the company. His account is temporarily taken away. It's been more than a week. And now they're seeing if the public will let it slide under the rug.

Cheol parts from jeonghan who goes the other way. He stands face to face with mingyu. "I'm sorry," mingyu starts. he pauses. "That's it?" Cheol asks, folding his arms. "Mingyu, have you thought about what's going on?" Cheols' frustrated voice makes mingyu drop his head. "Yeah -" "You don't, though, Gyu. our soulmate is out there, and you know what wonwoo said. She ran away from him. It's possible she's not ready to see us. But we dont know unless she comes to us first." cheols voice turns more melancholic at the end.

Mingyus heart hurts, seeing him upset. He wants to reach out and hide away at the same time. "I'm sorry," he repeats himself. "I wasn't thinking," his voice grows quiet, the quietest he's ever been. Cheol can't help it when he reaches out and rubs his thumb on mingyus cheek. "I wanna see her too," he smiles sadly. Mingyu tilts his head into cheols palm. Wrapping his arms around him tightly. Cheol wraps his arm around him back. Ruffling his hair.

A man stands at your doorstep. Cloaked in normal everyday clothes, you would see on any stranger walking the street. "Hello?" He says your full name to your doorbell camera, leaning in too close. "Hello, this is she. Who are you?" You reply from your phone. You're at work at the moment. Your shift ends in less than 20 minutes. "Hello, I'm Song Jaeho with bighit and pledis entertainment. I have a few questions to ask you if that's alright. Do you happen to be home?"

Bighit-pledis ent..? You slap a hand over your mouth. Who told!? It wasn't jiung! Right!? No... she'd never. She respects your boundaries. Oh.. the girls. The two from that store! Oh wait. You sent an email.

Are you even ready for this?

"I.." You look at the time. 15 minutes. Screw it. "I'm not currently home, but I'm just about to get off work. It'll take less than five minutes," the man claps his hands, pulling back from the camera. "Great, I can wait in the lobby then"

"Eunha! I'm off. My parents had a medical emergency and need me to drive them," you clock out, praying no one notices your blatant lie. "Oh yeah, you go on! Tell them I said hello. " she's never met your parents. But is so kind anyway.

By the time you make it to your apartment lobby, you're just under 4 minutes. Mr. Song stands up and greets you. You bow your head back. "Hello," you smile politely. "Song jaeho." He shakes your hand. "I'm assuming you know why I am here," the hybe employee says. Crossing his hands together. "Is this possibly about my.." You point to the back of your ear. "Soul mark? Yes. Actually, it'd be much easier to talk somewhere more privately. Would you mind accompanying me for coffee?" You look around, and he's right. Many people come in and out of the building, and work for a good number of people is over.

The coffee shop is crowded for the afternoon. A good thing in your opinion, maybe you should have thought before following some strange man to a cafe you hardly know. You're lucky he caught you on a half day. You take the only available seats by the exit. The space is fairly far from the next person, so you'll be able to converse openly.

Once you order, jaeho gets down to business. He slides his card between you and folds his arms. "I am specifically the legal advisor for idols who are soulmates with non idols. I work for bighit and their departments. Now, to start off, I would like to first see your soul mark. It's a precaution, so we know you're -" You stop him there. Pushing your hair away and turning your head, you show him your soul mark. He sits up a bit to lean over, eyebrows furrowed. You scrub at it to prove your point. It doesn't flake or move. "It's genuine," you mumble. He sits back. "It seems so," he says skeptically.

"May I?" He points to your wrists. You sigh and lean your wrists out to him. "Go ahead, have at it," he turns and inspects the soul marks on your wrists closely. You watch the top of his thick hair while his glasses hang off the bridge of his flat nose. It's like he's trying to see if you're a real diamond.

"I apologize for the precautions. You can never be too safe." he lays the folder between you. Legal documents laid out perfectly. "What's this?" Song jaeho crosses his hands together, placing them on the table. He points to each sentence as he says them. "I'm assuming you know of the boys' status. They are celebrities, and we, as the company they are signed under, must take the proper precautions to prevent any harm coming to them. It's nothing personal. Strictly business." He smiles. It's not genuine.

"And you want me to sign this?" You stare. "Yes, I will guide you through all of what you'll be signing," he smiles again. Pulling each paper towards him. As he continues to explain. You get the feeling this is just an nda. You read whatever you can on your own, trying to catch any funny business if you can.

"Once I sign these, what will happen?" He pulls away and closes his folder. "Once you sign the paperwork, we'll be in contact shortly. If everything goes well, you should be able to meet all of them. There is no guarantee or specific date set in stone, though." You hum at that. Looking down at the stamped papers in your hands, you flip through each.

All that's stopping you is some paperwork. Yes, it's not as easy as you wish it was. But you can't run away again. And now, probably, is your last chance of meeting them.

"Could I use your pen?"

You're wringing your hands as you sit in a spacious room. It's been atleast two months since you've see song jaeho, you almost thought you had been scammed until he called and scheduled a meet up. You feel foolish when you say that. 'Meet up'. It's like this moment doesn't determine your future. Set in stone. You couldn't even pick what to wear. Should you have gone in your favorite outfit? Something modest? Sophisticated? Sexy? God, you're going crazy.

You place your head down on the arm of the couch. Sighing into it. Your nerves are shocked. You've got to get a hold of yourself. You take a few deep breaths. You smooth out your clothing, making sure it's pristine. You're lifting your head up to scan the room, it's a giant comfortable room, almost like a living room. It seems homely, it must be a place where the boys rest before makeup. You've caught up on the lore of kpop, thanks to jiung, and figured the rest out yourself, possibly through a series of videos.

Truly, you're trying not to run away. But song jaeho already knows where you live, and you need to get meeting them over with. What's your plan? What are you even doing here?

The door opens abruptly. For some reason, you shoot up. Three men step in first. You only recognize Jaeho. You can hear the footsteps echoing down the hallway. It's a wide amount of them.

You feel your heart thump in beat. It rings loudly in your ears. You want to hide. To run from the center of the room. Anything to get every eye off you. Your lips purse. You lick them gently. Suddenly feeling your mouth dry.

The shoes echos as they stop just outside the open door. You can make out some harsh whispering. Your eyebrows furrowed.

Maybe they're just as nervous as you are. The thought makes your lip quirk. "Get in there!" A louder whisper cuts through. Your lip quirks into a smile. What were you getting yourself into?

One by one, models pass through the door. Why are there mod- it's like your heart leaps. You laugh internally. These guys.. these guys are Seventeen.

You can distinguish every one of them. Features you're fond of, already memorized. There's something so familiar about them. You can't put your finger on it.

Your hands squeeze by your side. Glancing from each guy to the four older men in suits. Each of the suited men talk to each other. "Take a seat, please," one of them breaks off from the secretive circle they had formed.

You plop yourself back down onto the couch, almost falling over from the cushioning. You smile to hide your embarrassment. There's only one other couch, and each guy attempts to fit on it. The shortest of them all takes the single armchair, smiling smugly as a much taller one complains about not having room. "I got here first," he says.

Your lips quirk up into a smile, and you bite your laugh down. The taller guy looks to you, a challenged smile on his face. You stare back with a small, a knowing look that definitely says 'yeah i laughed. What're you gonna do about it?'. He takes his place next to you. Plopping his full weight down. You almost fly forward into him. He grins from ear to ear. When you pull away and he scoots to the edge of the couch to give you some space, you find yourself smiling inwardly.

It's no surprise that all of the guys didn't fit on the couch. Two of them noticed this guy taking a seat next to you, yet playfully rush to take the spot on your left. The guy with hamster like features beats the much taller, otter looking one.

He smiles in victory, and you watch the guy pout and walk away. For a split second, your eyes catch each other, you smile, face scrunching. A tiny laugh erupts from you. He grins from ear to ear. He's not so upset he didn't win the spot anymore. He stands behind the adjacent couch with his arms resting on the top of it.

A shoulder bumps yours. It's from the hamster looking guy. He pouts, and you smile, bumping your shoulder back at his. His pout lifts despite him trying not to. His lips curve upwards.

Finally, once everyone is settled down into their spots. Two of the men in suits step forward.

"On behalf of Bighit and Pledis Entertainment, I will be representing seventeen." The other one speaks up. "And I will be representing Ms -" he says your full name.

You sigh, more legal work?

"If this is about more legal signing, I have already signed everything with Mr. Song Jaeho" You gesture to jaeho, who stands off to your left. The men in suits looked puzzled. Jaeho nods. "If that's the case, we can just begin introductions." The fourth guy says, clapping his hands together.

One by one, you learn the names of each guy. You make sure to memorize it perfectly. Some of them are even foreigners, you really wonder how they all met. They seem to have the closest bond, apparently they've known each other for years.

You've got a lot to catch up on.

Soonyoung and Mingyu are the two that sit with you. Soonyoung on your left and Mingyu on your right. The one who took the chair is Jihoon. From left to right, Jeonghan, Seungcheol, Joshua, and Vernon take the couch across from you. Sitting on the arms are Seokmin and Wonwoo. leaning against the back of the couch is Seungkwan, Junhui, Minghao, and lastly, Chan. The one who lost the race.

"Tomorrow, we're shooting for a video," seungcheol speaks up over the growing silence. "You could come if you want," he nods. Everyone waits with bated breaths.

"I'd love to," you grin.

[psychedelic-ink]

We Fall Like Snow ║ Part Ⅰ

After the events that took place at the Cliff Beasts set, needless to say as his bodyguard (and friend) you became overprotective of Dieter. You have all your worries under control until you accidentally flip over a young fan by grabbing her wrist, causing the media to stir with speculations as to why. Luckily Dieter's family arrives in the nick of time, scooping you both from New York to their cozy cabin; however, winter wonderland can't last forever and you need to face the consequences of your actions sooner or later.

pairing: Dieter Bravo x bodyguard!ofc; Amina Addams, written in reader format

chapter summary: You and Dieter are late for a Q&A. Again.

word count: 4.5k

chapter warnings: weed use, dieter having a filthy mind (and a wild s.ex life), cursing, so much banter, minors dni

**dividers by the amazing @saradika

The floor might as well be drenched in grease by how slippery it was.

Your poor sneakers glide across the marble tiles, nearly making you trip as you climb two steps at a time. Adrenaline pumps through your veins, heart hammering in your chest, you force your legs to move faster. You can feel each individual muscle throbbing. It was stupid of you to expect Dieter fucking Bravo of all people to show up on time.

You’ve been waiting by the car for nearly half an hour, already late for the signing. His fans are used to it by now, but that doesn’t mean you enjoyed being late to these events, and Shannon –Dieter’s ever passive- aggressive manager– had graciously put you in charge of his time table. You still aren’t sure why. You’re the bodyguard; the person that slaps his hand whenever he puts his grubby little mitts on something containing peanuts. Occasionally you’ll push away a fan or two. Generally speaking, for such a riot of an actor, he has calm admirers. There was one incident that nearly got him harmed.

Finally reaching the door, you aggressively punch it, the sound echoing throughout the entire hotel. When you detect no movement you knock again, this time accompanied by your sheer shout of his name.

“Dieter! Get your butt out of the bed– NOW!”

Just as you’re about to knock again, the door opens wide, leaving your fist awkwardly hanging in the air. In the threshold stands a disheveled, yet happy-, looking woman. She’s probably in her thirties, with long red hair, and her lash line smudged with eyeshadow. Her smile is lazy and kind as she looks at you. Is she high? God if you’re out there, please tell me he’s not high.

“Hi,” she greets you, her voice sultry. “Can we help you?”

You peer above her shoulder and see Dieter full on french kissing a brunette man on top of his luxurious king size bed. The bedding slides down the man’s body, revealing his perfectly sculpted ass. A soft moan reaches your ears, and your face becomes heated.

Ignoring the woman, you step inside, your hand conveniently wrapping around the metal doorknob, the coolness of it gives you some semblance of peace.

“Dieter!” you hiss between clenched teeth. He parts from the man with a smack and meets your gaze. His brows furrow, incohesive sounds leaving his kiss swollen lips. He fucking knows he’s in trouble.

“Shit,” he breathes out. The man turns to face you, his perfect ass matching his perfect face. Dieter turns to grab his phone. “What time is it? Did we fuck until morning?”

The woman giggles; you hadn’t noticed before but the front of her robe is open, her breasts bouncing as she shifts from one leg to the other. “I guess so,” she answers cheekily.

“We’re late for the panel. Get your butt out of bed right now.”

“Yes ma’am,” Dieter says. Before doing what you asked him to, he quickly presses his lips into his lover’s. “See you later Eduardo,”

“Awwww,” he bemoans, chasing the actor’s lips. “Can’t you stay?” his eyes flit to yours. “She can join us if she wants to, the more the merrier,”

Dieter wrestles with his pants, barely able to get one foot in.

“She’s not into that,” he replies slightly breathless, then he stops and looks at you, eyes full of curiosity. “Are you?”

“I swear if you don’t leave this room in ten seconds I’m dragging you out naked, paparazzi be damned,”

“Kinky,” the woman grins.

Your fingers tighten around the doorknob.

“I can’t believe we’re late. Again.”

With one hand, you quickly usher Dieter into the limo, using the other to text Shannon that you’re on your way. The driver starts the car, a low hum filling the inside.

“I’m hungry,” Dieter groans, scratching the back of his head.

You eye the sidewalk, the brown paper bag containing a chocolate muffin and a cup of coffee idly laying sideways next to the back tire. The dampness of the pavement had seeped into the bag, the coffee also spilt, turning it into a mushy, disgusting mess. You let out a sigh, climbing into the car right after Dieter. You originally had placed the bag on top of the trunk lid; it must’ve fallen with the wind or something.

The car starts to move and you internally curse at the driver for not keeping an eye on Dieter’s breakfast.

“We’ll just have to get something there,” you say, fishing out a small kitkat bar from your bag. “This is going to have to suffice,”

He takes it with gratitude and a lazy smile.

“Thanks.” Hhe leans into the soft seats of the limo, fingers playing with the edge of the wrapper. “I am really sorry by the way, time kinda flew by,” clearing his throat, he adds,. “Is Shannon mad?”

“Well, she ain’t happy,”

“I should send her a bouquet,”

“You did that last time,”

“Box of chocolates?”

“Did that the time before,”

“Muffin basket?”

“That’s new.”

The smile he gives you is wide and bright and you can’t help but mimic the expression. His gaze is soft as he looks at you, his fidgeting with the wrapper stopping abruptly.

“Could you tell Kate then? Before I forget.”

Without an answer, you quickly text Kate, his assistant, to send Shannon a nice and elegant muffin basket. While you do so you hear Dieter peeling open the wrapper of his unhealthy breakfast, the voice of his favorite youtuber follows.

For the upcoming months, Dieter’s schedule is packed. He’d been cast in an upcoming dystopian blockbuster hero movie. It sounded interesting enough, but while he explained the plot, you were already thinking about the arrangements that needed to be made. Thanks to this new project, he didn’t have much time to relax, so these short limo rides were his little moments of escape.

Seeing that you got a “thumbs up” emoji from Kate, you push the phone back into your pocket. Now that the two of you are actually on your way, you’re relaxed, a ticklish sensation laving across your skin as you melt into the leather seats, the smooth drive pushes your brain into a nearly sleepy state.

Your gaze follows the shops on the street, now that Halloween and Thanksgiving were things of the past, everyone had busted out their Christmas decorations. You enjoy this time of year, the city becomes colorful and bright, the smell of gingerbread following you no matter where you go.

“They were really nice,” Dieter suddenly states, drawing you out of your Christmas- fueled thoughts. “I wish you could’ve spend more time with them,”

“Who?”

“Eduardo and Isabel,” he scrunches up the wrapper and stuffs it into his pocket, dropping his phone to his lap. “They showed me around,”

“Are they actually friends of yours or two people you met at the after party?” You have no doubt in your mind that it’s the latter;, your lips curl into a mischievous smile. You cock an eyebrow, face contorting with confusion. “I thought you came to New York before, what do you mean they ‘showed you around’?”

“I might’ve said I’m new in town,” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows. “I like the attention,”

“As if you don’t have enough of that already,”

He ignores your playful jab and indulges in his train of thought.

“We should meet them again, the four of us,”

“Is this an attempt to lure me to bed with you?”

“It’ll be fun,”

“I have no doubt about that,” your expression grows smug when you see that he wasn’t expecting that answer. “I’m not saying no because it’ll be boring, I’m saying no because I’m your bodyguard. What if someone bursts into the bedroom with a gun? What am I supposed to do when I’m butt naked?”

You exaggerate your words with your hand movements, “Am I supposed to search the floor for my holster while some maniac holds a gun to your head?”

“You can keep the holsters on,”

You hold your breath as discreetly as you can. Dieter leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. How far he can reach surprises you, the brush of his knuckles against yours prompts you to let out the breath you’ve been holding. His pupils devour the color of his eyes, his gaze burns your skin, a feeling that should hurt but doesn’t. His tongue licks over his bottom lip. Your eyes drop to his neck when he swallows.

As he speaks again his voice comes out low and sultry, like he’s out of breath. “That would be so hot. And, like, imagine you shooting a dude while riding my cock,”

“Dieter–”

“Not killing him, of course, just shooting the gun out of his hand. Like a cowboy,”

You snort at the image, quickly covering your mouth. He pulls back, fingers absentmindedly scratching his chin. The heat from the brief brush of skin lingers. Dieter appears none the wiser.

You bite the tip of your tongue. His innuendos affect you more and more each day;, it’s infuriating, especially when he does it so nonchalantly. His eyes look up to the limo’s ceiling, and your cheeks heat up. Is he still thinking about you in holsters?

You’re just about to tell him to stop when he speaks again.

“Wait, would it be cowgirl instead? What do you call a female cowboy? Or does the word cowboy include everyone?”

The heat disappears as soon as it comes, leaving you feeling icy cold.

“Gendered terminology is a bitch,”

“Cowperson?”

“That sounds like a superhero with cow powers,”

He starts to mumble the spider-man theme song from 1994. Maybe he is high after all.

“…does whatever a cow can. Eats some grass, any kind. Crushes thieves just like…uh,”

“Bugs?” you offer.

“Why would a cow crush a bug?”

“Why is Cowperson eating grass? They’re still human, that’s not really a super power,”

“It’s to make their cow-powers more powerful. You need to read more comic books.”

“Who are they? Popeye?”

“Hey, if Popeye can eat spinach and grow strong I don’t understand why our cow-hero can’t,”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, you feel a headache sneaking its way to your temples.

“Why are we talking about cow themed superheroes?”

“You said you would fuck me with the holsters on,”

“I said no such thing,”

The limo comes to a steady halt, you don’t even need to look outside to know you’re here. The muffled screams that seeps through the gaps of the car is enough to let you know that there’s a crowd outside. Dieter seems unbothered by it, his soft molten gaze still glued to you curiously. Suddenly, it gets harder to breathe; like someone squeezing your throat. Licking your lips, you slide towards the door, mentally preparing yourself for the fans outside.

“We’re on, Mr. Bravo.”

It takes you everything not to think of the last sentence he said to you. “You said you would fuck me with the holsters on,” the words had rolled off his tongue as naturally as falling snow, not thinking at all about the consequences. You should be used to his flirty remarks by now. Of all the years you’ve known him, he’s always been like that. It never means anything, it’s just who he is. And it’s your job not to allow him to get you all riled up.

Letting Dieter take the front, you step to the side and close the door as he waves at his adoring fans. They all scream his name, posters and memorabilia glued to their hands with hopes that the actor might sign them. He’s got a bit of spare time—traffic had been surprisingly kind—so you allow him to mingle. You trail close on his steps just in case anyone decides to get too familiar. Selfies are taken, and tears are shed. Your gaze swiftly flits to your watch, his panel begins in ten minutes, you have to get him inside– Besides he will do more signings after the Q & A anyway.

Ignoring the blood pooling underneath your nails, you press your hand against the small of his back, gently guiding him to the entrance. He already knows. His steps become faster, yet to an outsider he doesn’t look to be in a rush. You can’t help the way your fingers slightly curl against the soft fabric of his suit; he feels your palm, warm and soft on his hip.

Touching Dieter isn’t anything new. However, this time you sense a crackle in the air, something that can only be felt by the two of you. His muscles stiffen as he fights the urge to turn to lay his eyes on you. If he could, a silent question would be asked with those same pair of soft eyes; Did you feel that too?

The invisible moment shared between the two of you is gone when a poster is abruptly shoved into his hand along with a marker, you notice which movie it’s from; The Bubble, though it’s more of a documentary rather than a movie. He quickly signs it without further inspection, the fan quickly screams words of gratitude.

But your eyes linger.

You hate that documentary. It’s the proof of your biggest failure as a bodyguard. You heard it on the news first. The crazy set where Lauren Van Chance got her hand shot clean off and the actors had to flee via a helicopter. It was a closed set so you weren’t allowed to join Dieter, and the thought alone that something, anything, could’ve happened to him during filming made you sweat profusely.

Your throat closes up, lungs emptying with the reminders of the past. Luckily he returned safe and sound, never again would you accept him to be essentially locked in a hotel by himself, the pandemic be damned.

You feel it first. See it later.

Your skin is coated with unwarranted goosebumps, the small hairs dusted across your nape stands with attention. Years of working had made your senses grow sharp, noticing things before it even came to be. With your backs turned to the approaching threat, you forget your surroundings, forget to hold yourself back.

When you notice your fingers wrapping around a slim wrist, it’s too late. You kneel and throw the person coming from behind using the strength from your shoulder. A small funko pop of one of Dieter’s more popular characters flies out of their hand. It’s a young woman, maybe in her early 20’s. She shouts in pain and Dieter jumps back, only now realizing what happened. You’re horrified, bile rising to your throat as your eyes go wide. You don’t hear yourself, but you know you’re shouting an apology, feeling your lips form the words.

Sorry, sorry, sorry. Oh my god I’m so sorry.

You attempt to help the girl up but she yanks her hand back, looking at you with rightful fury. You look up to the crowd and it’s a cacophony of screams, laughter, booing– The sound comes to you muffled, echoed. You see countless smartphones, all of them directed at you, documenting your second-worst mistake of your career.

Turning back you see Dieter kneeling next to the fan. He’s speaking to her, his large hand spread across her back. She smiles, nods, and he helps her up. Two paramedics come, ushering her away from the crowd., Dieter waves her off, saying something to the paramedics. You’re so disoriented that your mind convinces your body that a threat as big as an explosion had happened, your skin crawling with imaginary shrapnel digging in to it.

Dieter’s face comes into view, your stomach churns with the remains of your too-early breakfast.

Every sound, every motion rushes back into you, like your soul being sucked back into your body. It’s an overwhelming feeling, you shake your head once, twice, then ask a question with the sole intention to convince yourself that you’re alright.

“Is she hurt?”

“She’s going to be fine,”

Dieter never touches you when you work, a rule you established well before knowing him –this rule didn’t apply after hours though, you don’t remember how many times he bawled his eyes out and pulled you into a bear hug during one of his many rewatches of Coco– but right now his arm wraps securely around your waist, pulling you with him as cameras flash before your eyes, the sound deafening. Your eyes water at the light;, briefly you wonder how Dieter does it, then you’re reminded of his shitty eyesight and connect the dots.

The inside of the building is spacious and cool, you take a deep, shaky breath and stagger forward, balancing yourself by pressing your palms into your knees. An angry set of heels echoes in the building; you see Shannon’s ankles, noticing a small tattoo of a happy cat with a ball of yarn.

How ironic.

“What the fuck was that?” she asks frantically, a rhetorical question, you assume, since she continues. “Amina, what the hell were you thinking flipping a fan like that? She wasn’t even doing anything! The press is going to gobble this story up, it’s going to be everywhere–” she abruptly stops mid- sentence, your head spins, Dieter’s shoes come into view, Shannon’s heels disappear.

“Is she going to be sick?”

You flinch at the hand on your back, Dieter’s voice echoes. You hear something else as he speaks in hurried breaths. What the hell was that sound? You attempt to swat it away. Then you recognize.

Jingle Bells?

“Amina?”

You black out after that.

Needless to say, Dieter is freaking out.

You flatout fainted in front of them all, then woke up acting as if everything was just peachy-keen. He was glad you didn’t puke, but that didn’t ease his worries. The memory of you tossing that poor girl didn’t leave his head for the rest of the day. He was confused, his mind working hard unlike it ever did in order to unravel the mystery. He knew you had your reasons, maybe the girl was a secret agent out to get him or something. Mostly, he was worried about how the scene had stirred something in him. The way you looked so confused about your own actions, how your eyes seemed glazed as if they couldn’t piece together where they were… He’d never seen you so out of your element before.

The screaming crowd probably didn’t help.

Knowing that the internet would be brutal, he asked for your phone before the panel, and, surprisingly, you obliged. The rest of the day was event- free.

He still feels the phone in his pocket as he unlocks the door of the hotel room.

Upon seeing the mess of his late night endeavors with Eduardo and Isabel, a small groan leaves his throat. Couldn’t they have cleaned before leaving the room?

You don’t seem to care. With quick steps you reach the couch and sit. It’s facing the TV, and your hand reaches for the remote. He parts his lips to say something but your hand stills before he does, fingers slightly shaking as you pull yourself back.

“I’m sorry,” you say, your voice cracks and his heart beats in his throat. “I don’t know what happened,”

“Well…” he trails off, closing the door. “In your defense, Rose wasn’t supposed to be there. Technically, you were doing your job,”

“Rose?”

“The girl you flipped,”

“Oh god,”

He stands before you, facing the full force of your doubtful gaze. You cradle your cheeks with both hands, shaking your head, and let out a groan.

“Even so, she didn’t have a weapon, she wasn’t there to attack you. All I had to do was to usher her away,” you lean back, both hands now covering your face, letting out a deep sigh. “Fuuuuuuuuck,”

“Hey, it’s not that bad. Shannon is just being dramatic,”

“I saw her looking at her phone Dieter, I think she left early to cry in the shower,”

“Being my manager for so long must’ve taken a toll on her, you can’t blame her for that. I promise you, I did way stupider shit,”

“Doing stupid shit and downright assaulting someone are two different things,”

You’re right, and he knows you’re right. That doesn’t mean he’ll accept it though. He stares at you for a while, thinking what to say or to do to make you feel better.

His first instinct is to roll you a joint—weed makes everything better—but when he notices the subtle tick in your jaw, your lips slightly moving without parting, he understands that whatever you’re feeling, runs much deeper. You eye the remote again.

“Maybe I should just see what they’re saying?”

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,”

“I’m going to find out about it eventually. I should just rip off the bandaid,”

Offering to roll you a joint doesn’t seem like that bad of an idea anymore.

“How about we smoke weed instead?” He assumes you’re going to say no when you open your mouth. He presses his forefinger against his own lips playfully, meeting your gaze and winking. “We can look at Twitter, check the news, watch youtube breakdown videos or whatever you want to do and see the damage tomorrow morning, sweetheart. Promise,”

“Fine fine, let’s go with what you want,” you give in, clearly exasperated. Dieter grins, but before he leaves you threateningly wave your finger at him. “But this is the only time, Bravo. Got it. No matter what, don’t offer it again,”

“Yes Ma’am,”

Dieter holds the joint between his index and middle fingers, where it looks miniature compared to the rest of his hand. He brings it to his lips, taking a deep inhale before handing it to you.

You move in slow motion— at least, to him it seems like you are. He watches intently at where his lips touched moments ago touching yours. A pleasant tingle blossoms from his tail bone to the small of his back. A delicate puff of smoke dances away from your lips, your head falling back, a long sigh follows your exhale. Dieter’s eyes follow the curve of your neck. You swallow, lips still parted. He mimics the movement, his own adam’s apple bobbing up and down, he thinks of your lips.

“Why did I fucking do that?” you mutter. “That was so stupid of me,”

“Stop thinking about it,” he takes the joint away from you. “I rolled this so you can relax. Don’t waste good weed on tripping,”

“Yeah, you’re right sorry,”

Dieter spreads his legs underneath the fuzzy blanket, and your head lolls towards him, forehead brushing his clothed shoulder. Again, a pleasant tingle spreads, this time warmth added to the feeling. The skin above his lower stomach feels tight. His thoughts the farthest from being pure, he imagines a nipple, your nipple, while sucking the end of the joint. His head fuzzy, a soft moan rattles in his throat. You’re muttering something, and that something comes to him muffled, then you laugh. He laughs too, context be damned. He takes another inhale before passing it back to you.

“It was kinda funny,” he suddenly says, his mouth barely reaching the speed of his thoughts. “The way you just threw her over your shoulder,”

“How is it funny?”

Something in your voice makes Dieter raise his hips, the delicate, barely there pressure of the blanket is equal to torture. He needs his hand, or better yet, your mouth. He bites his bottom lip and chases the feeling, lifting himself once more just to feel that feather-like grind against his cock. You’re unaware. Or maybe you are. Dieter can’t tell. He knows that he should behave, that deep down you’re hurting, but something about your obliviousness did something to him. His teeth sink further into his lip, he wants to draw blood, needs the distraction.

“I’ve never actually seen you get physical before, so the shock factor made me wanna laugh,” his words fade into a surprised grunt when you stuff the joint between his lips.

“I guess you really haven’t seen me like that before,”

You sound genuinely surprised. Dieter shifts to face you better, your face only an inch away from his, he sucks in a deep breath. His eyes dance around your face, taking in every little detail, memorizing it for later. Your eyes seem to have specks of gold in them. Or maybe he’s just imagining it. He hears you swallow, your own gaze dropping to his lips. Dieter shuffles closer. He hears your heavy, but fast, breathing. Your breasts touch his chest, a subtle movement that has him grinding his teeth.

He can taste you in the air, sweet and bitter, you’re so close–

The moment shatters with the sound of a shrill doorbell;, Dieter jumps, an immediate crease forming between his eyebrows.

“What kind of hotel room has a doorbell?”

“The expensive kind I guess,” you giggle.

Dieter smiles sweetly at you, he can’t help it. The doorbell rings again, prompting Dieter to stride to the door with long steps. Gripping the doorknob white-knuckled, he yanks it open.

He forgot.

He can’t believe he fucking forgot.

“Dieter!”

A pair of thick, loving arms, wrap themselves around his neck. An awkward smile tugs at Dieter’s lips as he hugs back, his hands twitching for an imaginary rail to hold on.

“Mom? Dad?”

“You forgot didn’t you,” his dad means for his words to form a question but he’s so sure of himself that it comes out as a statement. “Doesn’t darling Kate remind you of these things?”

“She does,” Dieter answers. His mother squishes his cheeks, making it difficult for him to speak. “I just forgot. Been busy,”

“Such a busy bee our darling boy! I would’ve never guessed,”

“Thanks for the confidence boost mom,”

“I mean I knew you would make it,” his mom defends herself. “I just never thought you would work so hard,”

“Again, thanks,”

“Uh…hello?”

You’re standing right behind him, arms crossed against your chest, you shift from one foot to the other. His mother looks you up and down, a wide smile appears on her face, wrinkles appear at the corner of her eyes, similar to his.

“Well, hello dear. Who might you be?”

Dieter nearly bursts out laughing when you stutter and hurriedly walk up to his parents with your hand stretched out, you nearly topple over. Dieter slightly moves forward, in case you did fall over.

“I’m Amina Addams. Lovely to meet you,”

When you reach out to greet his father, he seems excited, like a fan meeting a celebrity. Dieter raises an eyebrow. His father had the habit of being quite blunt, sometimes steering towards being mean, which made Dieter adapt into having a warning mechanism whenever his dad was about to say something stupid.

Right now the alarms are deafening in his ears, red flashing beneath his eyelids.

You shake his hand, and Dieter’s world falls into slow motion, his father parts his lips.

“You’re that girl who turned over a fan! The crazy bodyguard, right?”

For fucks sake dad.

author's note: I've been sitting on this for SUCH a long time and I'm so excited that it's finally out in the open! I love Christmas, romcoms and Dieter so this is essentially pouring out my adoration to all of those things and I hope you'll all fall in love with Amina & Dieter as hard as I have ❤️ Thank you everyone for reading!

[mcmmabear]

tags

[tvgals]

‘ GOOD GRIEF ! ‘

pavitr prabhakar x black! fem! reader

— the two times pav could’ve confessed to you and the one time he did .

Ⅰ.

the time you two were at the park . —

you and pavitr were walking down the street towards the park eating ice cream. “then hobie came out of nowhere! it was crazy!” your bestfriend says, waving his hands around for dramatics. “really? y’know, pav, sometimes i can’t help but want to see you in action.” you smile, biting the top of the cone to get access to the rest of the ice cream. “maybe one of these days, y/n.” pavitr grins, leaning into your frame. “hopefully.” you giggle.

while you two were making your way to the benches seated inside the park, pavitr couldn’t help but stare at you. you were so…majestic? is that the right word to use? or does that make you sound weird…like you were a horse or something…maybe he should just blurt out his feelings now then run away..before he could open his mouth, pavitr’s train of thought was interrupted when you snapped a few times in his face, a smile on your own. “hellloooooo? i asked you a question!” you laughed — a frazzled look on his face. “oh..yeah, yeah! i agree!” pavitr tried to cover up his embarrassment with fake sneezing. “you had to sneeze this whole time?” you ask, cocking a brow. “yep!”

Ⅱ.

the time you called him . —

pavitr looked down from brushing his teeth to his phone ringing ‘y/n 🌟’ it read. he immediately spit out the remaining toothpaste in his mouth and picked up the phone. “y/n!” pav answered, “pavi’!” you replied, a grin on your face. “what’s up?” pavitr asked, washing his face off.

“just wanted someone to talk to while i got ready for bed.” you shrugged, tying your bonnet in the back then pouring moisturizer onto your hand. “glad to be that someone. so what’s up? anything new happening in the oh so interesting life of y/n?” he asked, walking into his room and plopping onto his bed as he listens to your spiel of stories about people that pissed you off, or something funny that happened — and all pavitr does is stare at you with love.

after almost an hour of being on the phone already, the two of you agreed to fall asleep on the phone — you falling asleep first. once pav made sure you were asleep (by calling your name multiple times) he fell asleep himself. but not without a whisper of, “i love you.”

Ⅲ.

the time he confessed . —

you and pav were staying after school to finish homework together, although he claims he could’ve done it in “1.2 seconds” he decided to wait on you. “so..i carry the two..” you ask, looking up at pavitr with those beautiful eyes of yours. “no, no, no, you carry the six, the three stays there.” pavitr points to the numbers on the paper. you threw your head back in annoyance and groaned; “this is too hard! i don’t get it, pavi’!” pavitr looks at you and starts giggling uncontrollably, doubling over in laughter.

“why are you laughing?!” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion. pav takes a deep breathe and whispers out — “you’re so cute, i can’t help it!” and he starts his uncontrollable fit of laughter again, wiping tears from his eyes. “cute? you call me not being able to do math cute?” you ask accusingly, crossing your arms. “yeah,” pavitr started once again, “i just — i just love you so much!” pavitr said, his laughter dying down. you stare in shock. he loved you? seriously? “really?” you ask picking the hangnails off of your fingers.

“yes, really!” “oh. well, i love you too.”

[arminsumi]

˗ˏˋ꒰ 🐚 ꒱ BEYOND THE SEA

Armin x fem!reader

Chapter index / Chapter Ⅰ: Secret

Overview; a story of your forbidden love affair with Lt. Armin during the war.

Content; 1940s au, fluff, romance, drama

Warnings; angst, tragedy

A warm sunset light cast over Armin and Eren as they crossed over the bridge that lead to their barracks.

They kept a slow pace and absorbed the warmth of the dozing sun.

"So, are you going to tell me about that nurse who you've been swooning over?" Eren asked nonchalantly.

Armin responded defensively, "I'm not swooning!"

"Yes, you are." He replied with a smirk.

There was a pause of silence between them. Armin let out a suppressed sigh.

"I don't know her name," Armin began.

"You don't even know her name?" Eren interrupted.

"No, but," Armin continued regardless, "I remember hearing her sing down the corridors in the early morning. If I would hear her voice again, then..." He trailed off, almost murmuring dreamily at the end, because of the memory of you appearing in his mind.

Eren waited for Armin to finish his thought, but he never did.

"You can't find someone with just the memory of their voice. What did she look like?" Eren asked.

Armin was visibly struggling to recall the image of you in his mind.

"I can't remember too well." He finally responded, "But I recall her father; he had a sullen face that I won't forget. When he entered the ward once, he gave me this prejudiced look."

"A 'prejudiced look'? Oh, you've got to be kidding me, Armin. You're swooning over the Head Chief's daughter? Do you realize what kind of trouble that could get you into?"

Armin gave a sheepish smile, "I know very well the kind of trouble that it can cause, Eren. I already got in trouble once with him, when he walked into the ward while I was laughing with his daughter."

"What happened?" Eren asked half-sympathetically, half-curiously.

They descended the steps at the end of the bridge, and took a moment to look out onto the glistening sea.

"He called for her to meet him in private. They must have had a brutal argument, because afterwards I saw her wailing on her friend's shoulder, and the next day she didn't show up to administer medicine to the patients. I learned through her friend that she was moved to the East wing, and was forbidden from even walking near the West wing."

Armin distantly observed the rolling waves, feeling his spirit sink as low as the depths of the ocean.

But like a soldier, he quickly masked his feelings, and straightened his posture before his heavy mood affected Eren.

"Let's get back." He said.

Eren didn't say anything, but he mustered a sympathetic look for his friend. He could tell how great of an impression you had on him by how fondly he talked about you.

A deep navy washed over the sky, and dots of stars came out to gleam and twinkle.

The lamp posts lining the cobblestone road lit up. Armin and Eren headed down this road to the barracks, and just before they entered their bunk room, Armin turned to Eren and asked with great seriousness;

"Eren, can you promise me something?"

"What?"

"Promise me that you will keep this between us... if the Captain finds out, he's going to tell the Commander."

Eren scoffed, "I'm sure that would strip you of your 'lieutenant' title very quickly."

"Eren." Armin looked at him pleadingly, "I'm not the only one who would get in trouble; so would she, and I don't want that."

"Yes, yes, alright. I will keep it secret."

"Thank you." Armin thanked him with relief in his voice.

"What's a secret?" Connie smirked when Armin walked into the bunk room.

He had overheard enough of their exchange to become curious.

Armin immediately tried to brush off Connie's curiosity by acting a fool, "Huh?"

"I heard you guys! Come on, what's a secret? You can tell me. I'm the best secret keeper." Connie said.

Eren quipped, "Connie, you can't keep your mouth shut to save your life."

"Hey!" Connie frowned.

Jean snickered behind his sketchbook, so Connie spun around and looked at him.

"Don't you laugh! I'll snatch that thing outta your hand and show 'em what you're drawing — or rather, who you're drawing!"

Armin laughed under his breath while climbing into his cot on the top bunk, "What a promising secret-keeper."

"Mind your own business, buddy!" Jean snapped at Connie.

They playfully bickered, and to deter Connie's curiosity, Armin fueled their jokes. Anyone passing by their window would see the glow of light and hear the ringing laughter coming from within.

But by the midnight hour, the lights were out, and everything fell silent.

Armin tossed around in his cot, his mind buzzing.

"If you keep tossing around like that, your bunk is gonna come crashing down on me." Eren's voice sounded from the bottom bunk.

"You're still awake?" Armin whispered.

Eren spoke in a low voice filled with sarcasm, "Of course, I'm brooding on your tragic love story with that nurse." he said.

Armin excitedly sprung to life at the mention of you, "Oh Eren! I wish you could have met her," he rolled over excitedly in his cot to peer down at Eren, "She had something absolutely wonderful about her. I felt as fulfilled and peaceful in her company as I did when I first saw the sea."

Eren pondered Armin's words in silence.

Eventually, he replied teasingly, "Maybe if this whole lieutenant thing doesn't work out, you can become a poet."

"Hey now, you be careful with what you say. Remember, I'm on the top bunk; I could crush you." Armin warned.

"How intimidating. You should use that line on the battlefield next time, it'll scare them shitless."

The two of them giggled quietly.

"You're not the God of Destruction anymore, you're the Cot of Destruction."

Armin repeated the pun to himself to savor the humor. Connie stirred awake and grumbled for them to shut up.

"Hey, Connie, don't talk to me like that; I'm the Cot of Destruction, you know! I could crush you!"

"What on earth are you on about?" He mumbled sleepily and dozed off without catching the joke.

Eren and Armin's banter tapered off, the atmosphere became still again.

"Eren, do you think I'll meet her again?" Armin asked seriously.

There was a lengthy silence.

"It's more than likely." Eren speculated.

Armin fed on Eren's response as if it were the only thing giving him hope.

Once Eren fell asleep, Armin laid awake in his cot like a lonesome insomniac, daydreaming of you to whittle the hours down until the new day dawned.

The anticipation of his awaiting duties had his gut clenching with anxiety. He was no longer just a somebody on the Captain's squad, but a newly promoted lieutenant; expected to be the replacement of the Commander, should the war take him.

[dwntwn-strnlo]

WHEN I

ⅰ. 𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑

❝ᵐᵃᵗᵗ ˢᵗᵒᵖ ᶠᵘᶜᵏⁱⁿᵍ ˡᵘʳᵏⁱⁿᵍ❞

·.★·.·'¯'·.·★★·.·'¯'·.·★.·

↳ ˢᵒᶜⁱᵃˡ ᵐᵉᵈⁱᵃ, ⁱᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ

check out on wattpad for an easier and cleaner read!

prev. ⇆ next.

🄽🄾🅆 🄿🄻🄰🅈🄸🄽🄶 . . .

❝i've been thinkin 'bout you . . .

. . . do you think about me still?❞

ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴ ʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ - 𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘢𝘯

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍 𝐈.

chapter one

❝𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐊𝐄𝐑❞

💫

·.★·.·'¯'·.·★★·.·'¯'·.·★.·

↳ ⁱⁿˢᵗᵃᵍʳᵃᵐ

veraaaprince

liked by trinity_west and 196,372 others

veraaaprince summer 🫡😋

tagged // nicolassturniolo , trinity_west , macsimpson , matthew.sturniolo , christophersturniolo , jennnnyfoster , nathandoe8 , madifilipowicz

view all 912 comments

nicolassturniolo OKAYYYYY

↳ veraaaprince WOOOOOOOOOOO

username ate

username did you fall off the door

↳ matthew.sturniolo yeah and she died

.   ↳ veraaaprince fuck you

.      ↳ matthew.sturniolo i can still hear her annoying little voice sometimes

macsimpson she screamed the whole ride and everything

↳ veraaaprince ok.

↳ christophersturniolo wasnt it a kiddie ride too?

.   ↳ matthew.sturniolo probably shes a little scaredy bitch

.       ↳ veraaaprince yall suck

madifilipwicz PRETTYYY

nathandoe8 the popcorn 😕

↳ username i wouldve cried

.   ↳ trinity_west @christophersturniolo cried like a litttle babyyyyy

.       ↳ matthew.sturniolo its true he did

.       ↳ christophersturniolo what the fuck

username i need friends like this

↳ username real

jennnnyfoster mother

↳ veraaaprince mother

username matt replying to everyones comments but not making his own smh

·.★·.·'¯'·.·★★·.·'¯'·.·★.·

↳ ⁱᵐᵉˢˢᵃᵍᵉ

vera ; prince 🕺

matt ; matty ratty 🐀

chris ; kristof 🦌

nick ; nick jr 📺

trinity ; trinny winny 😋

jenny ; jenn city 🌆

mac ; cheesy 🫶🧀

11:27 pm !

prince 🕺

matt stop fucking lurking

jenn city 🌆

seriously

like what you doin bud 😭

matty ratty 🐀

Dont call me bud

and im not

kristof 🦌

then what are you doing

matty ratty 🐀

Commenting like the rest of you?

prince 🕺

mm i dont think so ☝️

nick jr 📺

matt.

matty ratty 🐀

Nick.

nick jr 📺

shhhh

trinny winny 😋

can i change his name

pls

pelase

please

cheesy 🫶🧀

literally why

kristof 🦌

no

kristof 🦌 changed matty ratty 🐀 to lurker 🥷

lurker 🥷

Chris I fucking hate you

prince 🕺

LMFAO

trinny winny 😋

what the fuck.

kristof 🦌

maybe be faster next time idk????

jenn city 🌆

i love this

lurker 🥷

Love what

jenn city 🌆

bullying you

loved by nick jr 📺

lurker 🥷 left the chat!

cheesy 🫶🧀 added lurker 🥷 to the chat!

cheesy 🫶🧀

stop being a fucking pussy matthew

emphasized by kristof 🦌 and jenn city 🌆

prince 🕺

oh boy

trinny winny 😋

woah there 😧

nick jr 📺

calm urself 

lurker 🥷

Someone pls change my name back 🙏

kristof 🦌

NO 🙅‍♂️🔕👎❌

trinny winny 😋

we'll do it if you turn off your goddamn caps

lurker 🥷

Uhm

No

prince 🕺

matt PLEASE

turn off your caps

lurker 🥷

get out of here vera

cheesy 🫶🧀

HE TURNED THEM OFF

nick jr 📺

oh my

jenn city 🌆

whipped 🤨

lurker 🥷

excuse me?

jenn city 🌆

you heard me

trinny winny 😋 changed lurker 🥷tomatty ratty 🐀

matty ratty 🐀

thanks ig 

kristof 🦌

literally get over urself kid

prince 🕺

thats crazy

trinny winny 😋

ok im done omfg

im going to bed

matty ratty 🐀

me too

nick jr 📺

yeah get outta here

cheesy 🫶🧀

oh boy

read 12:01 am !

💫

. . .

A/N

oh boy

idk how i feel abt this but

irl chapter next!

[vixensofsorrow]

Demolition Lovers - Ⅰ you touch me once again and somehow it stings cause i know it is the end

DISCLAIMER: This fic is a long slowburn with multiple chapters, still being updated. also on AO3 my masterlist (all the chapters are linked there) PAIRING: young!Carol Denning/fem!reader OVERALL SUMMARY: An exploration of your and Carol's relationship through the years. CHAPTER SUMMARY: You and Carol reunite after a long time apart. CHAPTER TAGS: angst, fluff, friendship, complicated feelings, reader plays soccer, high school, developing relationship A/N: no clue how to add footnotes on tumblr but Engie is a Nickname for Engine Room, which central midfielders are often described as. also english isn't my native language so mb for any mistakes. im just a desperate lesbian in a world with not enough carol x reader insert fanfiction

“Carol! Carol, slow down!” You panted, quickly trying to sneak in shallow breaths in between your pleadings.

“I told you already, we don’t have much time!” She spoke up ominously, not even turning her head around to look at you, just focusing on running straight ahead with slight twists and turns here and there, still holding your sweaty hand tightly. She guided the both of you through the humid, pine scented, and slightly foggy forest of a small, West Virginia mill town where somewhere, underneath all the trees’ crowns, your hiding spot was.

“I see it!” Carol exclaimed, using her lungs' full potential. She briefly turned her head to take a short glimpse at your breathless and distraught self, your only reply was a slight smile of relief.

The two of you finally reached your destination. You immediately slid down the huge pine tree with your and Carol’s initials, a bunch of silly stick men and other drawings messily carved into the trunk, finally able to take a proper, deep breath.

Carol was still pacing around, hands fidgeting, occasionally tapping her foot like she was in distress, or anticipating something bad — those weren’t the signs that particularly worried your 8-year-old self, though. Upon further reflection, you recognized the pacing around as something to be concerned about, because your older sister would do the same thing whenever something unpleasant happened. What was most noticeable was her sudden change in mood, from running maniacally, smiling, to shutting down. Maybe it could’ve been from exhaustion? Why didn’t she just sit down then? You pondered.

You looked up at her, at the same time as she was looking down and when your eyes met, you were sure that something was indeed wrong. The look Carol gave you was dull, like she was trying to detach herself from whatever was happening. As your eyes locked, Denning’s began glistening, and she was clearly trying to hold back weeping by plastering a fake grin, with no success. She pulled up her glasses to wipe the tears away with the sleeve of her sweater.

“Care, what’s wrong?” You stood up, not even brushing the dirt off of your corduroy overalls, then taking Carol’s hands in yours. There was no way you could stop her crying now, and some teardrops fell on the back of your palms.

“You can tell me.” You added softly, furrowing your brows in a confused, yet clearly worried manner. You spoke with the intent of reassuring Carol that in this exact moment, the both of you were safe and sound in each other's presence and no one would be able to hurt you.

You weren’t breaking eye contact for even a second.

“Mom… Well….” At this point, Carol’s tears transformed into a full on stream, her vision turning blurry. “Not mom… I mean probably but…” Carol stuttered. She attempted to collect herself before continuing, sniffling.

“Barb… she told me that we are going to Illinois…” She tightened her grip, almost digging her nails into your hands, fully breaking down.

She was being serious about this.

Carol couldn’t hide it anymore, and even if she tried you could see everything written all over her puffy, red face. You were startled, almost frozen in place, the only sensation you felt being the occasional gust of wind and Carol squeezing your palms more and more with every second that passed by. You weren’t sure why, but it was somehow pleasant, reminding you that both of you are still alive and breathing. In this moment of silence, only broken by you sniffling and Carol gasping for air, everything hit you all at once.

The Denning's were moving out. Carol was moving out. Your best friend was moving out.

You tried to keep your cool as best as you could, so as to not upset her even more — you knew she didn’t like pity. Your attempt was unsuccessful, and you could feel your lips quivering.

Care threw herself into your arms and hugged you so tightly like she never did before, laying her head down on your shoulder. You took this as a chance to bawl your eyes out, hugging her back.

“You’re my best friend… And this may be the last time I'm going to see you.” She stuttered through the tears. After a moment of silence, you slowly let go of Carol, the both of you looking like a mess. Her hair was stuck to her sweaty, wet face, eyes puffy as if she had an allergic reaction, meanwhile your runny nose and bloodshot eyes made you look like you were ill, and you certainly felt like it.

“I’ll wait for you.” Your voice cracked, and you were frantically digging through the pockets of your jacket, eventually pulling out a jawbreaker candy and handing it to Carol.

Both of you smiled through the tears as she took the candy and hugged you for the last time in years.

The gym, covered with school representative dark blue and yellow banners, or posters with cheesy motivational quotes plastered on the beige walls, echoed with the principal asking something along the lines of “Is everyone excited!?”. Shockingly, a few people actually were, and rather loudly too.

He went on to boast about the many achievements of the school, about how great we all are, almost starting an inspirational speech. Before he could go on further, the more empathetic vice principal cut him off. “Let’s welcome MHS Band!”

“God damn, why does this shit always take ages?” The defender complained, slamming her locker over the sound of trumpets and drums in the distance. Someone from the team chuckled at the question. Other girls were spraying their hair, fixing their makeup, changing into uniform and whatnot.

“It always takes this long. You oughta get used to it.” Veronica walked up to Jennifer, who was painting little scorpions on the team members’ cheeks, to get hers done.

Tonya narrowed her eyes. “Well, yeah, but it doesn’t make it less annoying.”

The band went quiet, and the cheerleaders took over to the sound of Voulez-Vous by ABBA. “I can’t believe people actually listen to this European disco shit.” Rachel scoffed, and Veronica started singing it off-key incoherently just to piss her off, dancing with her hands, swaying to the rhythm of the bass boosted by the schools’ speaker's song.

She forgot she was getting her face painted and swung her head around to elevate her performance, which caused Jennifer to slip her hand and draw a straight line across her face.

“Ronica! Take a chill pill!” The attacking-midfielder rolled her eyes and let Jennifer clean up the mess, sneaking in a quiet “Sorry.” The team captain reflected, “Also, it’s not that bad. At least they used a song that’s not, like, 50 years old.” The goalkeeper raised an eyebrow in approval after giving it some thought.

“Ronica’s singing is, though.” You cut in and the teammates that could hear you over the loud music laughed.

“You wouldn’t know good singing if it hit you in the face!” Your friend defended herself, continuing the back and forth teasing for a while.

The team's striker finished painting the midfielder’s face and peeked out of the locker room to see what was going on in the gym. The cheerleaders were packing up their routine with a round of applause, and the scorpion school mascot ran out of the boys’ locker room.

You and Rachel were on your way to the mirrors, as you passed by you had a look at the slightly dirty, grody, blue, fluffy mascot and a chill went down your spine.

“Fucking hell man, that thing gives me the creeps.” You turned your attention to Jennifer and the goalkeeper, the latter tilting her head to get a better look. “Yeah… yeah, I see where you’re coming from.” She raised her upper lip and wrinkled her nose.

As the three of you were staring at what was going down at the pep rally, the principal spoke up again.

“And now… For the team that needs no introduction…” The whole group had gathered now. “…Let’s make some noise for the Regionals Girls’ Soccer Team Champions, go Scorpions!” He stretched out the “go” until the A/V kid put on Call Me by Blondie.

Students were crammed into the wooden bleachers, showing all the varieties of enthusiasm you'd expect from a required school event. The other jocks' encouraging yells, the burnouts' eye rolls, and everything in between.

The first moments were always awkward, since, well, not many people were that excited about a girls’ soccer team. The girls’ boyfriends and friends would start chanting, pumping their fists for all they’re worth, which usually worked in hyping up the rest of the school. As the applause built up and feet rumbled against the bleachers, you all jogged onto the court, with the beat-up school mascot jumping around and high-fiving the front row.

The whole team stood in a straight line, Jennifer put on an act of excitement, smiling triumphantly and waving. You didn’t like pep rallies very much, but honestly, most of the school didn’t either. The principal began announcing a speech about your success at the Regionals, but you drowned him out with irrelevant thoughts. “At least this is better than going to Biology…”

Your eyes lingered around the gym, recalling a pep talk from your coach about how you should always hold your head up, so you don’t come off as uninterested or ignorant.

You turned your attention from the banners to the bleachers, looking out for some interesting action. Maybe a kid kicking someone in the back and then pretending that it wasn’t them, a couple making out, just anything to make time pass faster.

As your eyes wandered, you noticed a new face in the midst of the crowd, squinting to get a better look. She looked familiar, but you couldn’t exactly make out her features since she was focused on rummaging through her bag.

You looked away for a moment, continuing the search.

Who knows, possibly it was just your mind playing tricks on you, and it wasn’t anyone new but a classmate who just got a new haircut.

Something felt off, though. You felt a weird sensation, like someone was directly staring at you — normally, you would've just brushed it off, but this was prolonged staring, the kind that made you uncomfortable.

You searched for the culprit amongst the crowd, and you immediately locked eyes when you found her. You were right; there was a new addition to your high school, and you knew why she looked familiar. You’d recognize that gaze anywhere.

Your face went pale, eyes widened, and your whole body stiffened, unable to form a single thought. Everything went silent, and your ears were ringing. From what you could see, Carol was just as shocked, only moving her hand ever so slightly to pull up her glasses.

You could make out clapping in the background, muted by your shock, and out of the corner of your eye see teammates acting all buddy-buddy, like all of you would always do at the end of every pep rally to raise “team spirit”.

It didn’t register that it was time to pack up until Gina nudged you, and you snapped back to reality.

“Yo, it’s time to go L/N.” She reminded you, immediately running to catch up to the other girls, while you just stood there for one more second before also sprinting to the locker room.

You stormed in, squeezing through the crowd to get to the bathroom, and you slammed the cabin door. You sat down on the closed toilet lid and grabbed the roots of your hair in distress, glancing at your feet.

You were confused as to what you were feeling; you were happy because your childhood best friend is back, but also shocked and nervous because, what if Carol isn’t the same person anymore? It makes sense; it’s been, what, 7 years since you last saw each other? It’s only reasonable that she changed, but you were afraid of the possibility of Carol and you not getting along anymore. Fuck.

You missed her greatly. You used to call each other, but only for the first few years after she moved out, when you were still kids. You recalled that one time, on a random evening after not hearing from Carol after a while, you rang the phone, but no one answered. Then, you called again. Almost every day for a month, until a high-pitched, squeaky female voice answered one day to tell you that the previous tenants had moved out.

Back then, it hurt. It hurt a lot, but you got over it with time. Still, the thought of carving “Y/N and Carol BFFS 4 EVER” into a tree with a pocket knife that Denning snatched from her dad, just one last time, lingered around.

You were torn apart; should you come up to her in hopes of becoming close again, and risk the pain of losing her again, or just pretend she doesn’t exist? After giving it more thought, it would be impossible to avoid her without it being awkward after the staring contest that just happened. “Fuck this.” You gave up, and opened the cabin door, just to be greeted by Veronica with her arms crossed.

“So, what’s eating you, Engie? 1” You jumped, and your heart sped up for a second.

“Fuck off! You made me spazz out!” Your brows furrowed, and you let out an exasperated sigh, walking away without an answer to change out of your uniform.

‘Ronica just threw her hands up in the air in annoyance, “That’s what I get for trying to be a supportive friend.” she mumbled. In some moments, the girls’ locker room wasn’t the most pleasant environment to be in.

You didn’t mean to blow up at Veronica like that, thinking about it, you probably could've used a piece of advice, a shoulder to lean on.

You packed up your bag, shut your locker and went to the mirrors to wash off the little scorpion on your cheek.

The attacking midfielder was leaning on the sink, listening to Rachel, Jennifer, and Nicole talking about a get-together to celebrate your success.

“Can we be civilized now?” She turned to look at you and fixed her hair.

“Yeah, you bet…” you smiled, “… I didn’t mean to explode at you like that.”

“It’s whatever, now, onto other, more important manners.” Vee joined in on the conversation about the party, as you picked at your face. School was out for today, so you could linger around until the janitor would make you leave.

Jennifer announced the gathering before anyone could leave, so that none of you would have an excuse not to go. Most of the time, she didn't care about your team interacting, which isn’t the best trait for a captain, but you all got along rather quite well (for hormonal, teenage girls), so she didn’t really bother with it. She must’ve been really excited about going to the State Championships.

As you said your goodbye’s and were about to leave, the striker stopped you. “L/N, I very much expect to see you there, and remember, no excuses!” Jennie mimicked your coach and you both laughed.

Still, what went down earlier today wouldn’t leave your mind. Your duffle bag was hitting your hips as you passed by the front of the school. You saw Vee sitting down on the benches by herself, and decided that you do need to talk about Carol. She scooted, you took a seat, and lit up a cigarette.

You were afraid of starting the conversation, and Veronica sensed that. “So, what fucked your day up, then?”

You took a drag. “You remember how I talked about that childhood friend of mine?”

“I think so?” She gesticulated and you passed her the cigarette. “Her name starts with C, right?”

“Yeah, Carol…” You hear your friend whisper a quiet “Ohhh, yeah, yeah.”

You continued. “… She was at the pep rally today.” As Veronica was about to put the cancer stick to her lips, she dropped her jaw and raised her eyebrows. “You serious?”

“Deadly serious, fortunately or unfortunately. I’ve got no clue what to do, ‘Vee.” You bounced your leg and nibbled on the inside of your lip. “Should I come up to her or something? I can’t even ignore her after the fuckin’ staring contest we had.” Ronica, once again, handed the cigarette back to you and you took another drag.

“Well, I think only Mother Theresa could help you with that.” She tried to joke as an attempt of lighting up the mood, but only got a stern look of disapproval from you.

“Okay um, well. Maybe wait until she comes up to you…” Vee thought more about her answer. “…and then you’ll know that she also wants to talk or something, reconnect, whatever… And I guess if she doesn’t, and you still miss her, you could make the first move?” Her voice went up an octave in uncertainty.

“That’s actually some solid advice, thanks, ‘Ronica.” You smiled at her, and she threw an arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a hug. “No prob.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence, only broken by chatter of other students, Vee reminding you to put out the cig, and cars speeding by. A beige, 1978 Cougar honked with your friends’ dad in the driver's seat. You said your goodbyes, and after Veronica left, you picked up your duffle bag and walked off in the direction of the school bus stop.

You closed your eyes and leaned against a tree, massaging your temples, trying to reduce the tension and stress that built up over the course of the day. You heard someone flickering a lighter, and you slowly opened your eyes in curiosity.

“Who would’ve thought you’d end up as a fuckin’ jock?” She stopped playing with the lighter, which was clearly a ploy to get your attention. “I mean, you could barely run half a mile without getting outta breath back when we were kids.” A way too familiar voice teased with a big, genuine smile.

[coffin-contemplator]

❝the ‘hanky code’ collection❞, chapter Ⅰ

Summary:

“‘I need a fresh tie,’ Strahm states casually, suddenly coming to a halt in the middle of the room. (...) Hoffman tilts his head to the side, not an ounce of care present. ‘Try wardrobe?’”

Perez is probably the first one to realise, and it’s painful to see just how oblivious the men around her are. A medium-blue handkerchief, mostly hidden within the compounds of the right lapel of Hoffman’s suit jacket. And the detective stands right in front of Strahm, taunting him, unbeknownst to the special agent himself. Yes, this may be a coincidence—but “copsucker”? Really?

It’s a ridiculous scene, and normally Lindsey would probably laugh. But she’s being professional, so she doesn’t. She tries not to look either, proceeds to brush it off. Focuses on the priorities; on her job as a federal agent. Yet, she can’t help but let her gaze wander every now and then, still, eyes flickering between Strahm and Hoffman, partly wanting to see her partner’s reaction if he realises, and partly wishing he doesn’t. 

On the way back to their own office, Perez glances curiously at Peter. 

“Have you noticed at all?” She asks eventually, no longer able to keep her interest at bay.

“Noticed what?” Strahm replies with an inquiry on his own, appearing surprised.

For a second, she simply stares, stunned. Then, allowing herself a subtle, knowing smirk, she responds. 

“Never mind, then.” 

*

If there’s one thing Detective Hoffman hates, it’s stumbling across Lawrence and Adam. And he can’t even decide which is worse; being subjected to Gordon’s condescending look, or dealing with overly friendly Stanheight. Whatever the case, both stand as infuriating.

It’s simply a matter of business with Lawrence (or at least that’s what they both choose to offer as the official version). If you were to ask Adam, though, he doesn’t believe that for a second. And he doesn’t mind, either. 

Feeling slightly hyper today, as he sometimes does, he would normally let the two older men talk and settle things between themselves, while he paces, maybe takes some pictures, probably smokes (this is one of the very few instances during which Lawrence is too busy to grace Adam with a disapproving stare). 

But then something pinpoints his attention and he can’t help but react accordingly. 

His sudden close proximity is enough to make the other two pause. 

“Dear?” Lawrence prompts, caught off guard. 

However, Adam isn’t looking at him—his focus lies purely on the detective. After another while of hesitation and turning some thoughts over in his mind, he points at the red handkerchief, hanging out of Hoffman’s front pants pocket. 

“Actually?” He glances at the older man in disbelief. 

A flicker flashes across Hoffman’s face, as the sudden realisation dawns at him. “Uh, listen,” he hisses, stuttering, visibly flustered. “Maybe I might’ve been a bit… desperate recently…” 

By this point, Lawrence is pretty much lost completely. He casts a glance at his boyfriend once more, searching for some hint that may lead him to reach some reasonable conclusion. Adam’s shit-eating grin isn’t of much help, though.

*

“I need a fresh tie,” Strahm states casually, suddenly coming to a halt in the middle of the room. 

His gaze lazily travels toward Hoffman, still resting on the bed, and his own neck attire still bound to the headboard. Involuntarily, he raises his eyebrow, briefly reflecting on his choices from the previous night. Making rational and responsible decisions is indeed definitely easier while sober. 

Hoffman tilts his head to the side, not an ounce of care present. “Try wardrobe?” 

Strahm huffs with irritation but doesn’t retort. Instead, he follows the instruction (for once), sliding the door open and taking a look. Due to the limited variety of his partner’s choice of clothing, finding a clear tie fortunately proves anything but difficult. However, something inside captures Strahm’s attention and makes him stop dead in his tracks. 

Once realising what he’s looking at, he turns back to the other man, a blank unreadable expression painted on his face. 

He’s seen a lot in this apartment by now; starting on some more subtle bindings, ending on leather accessories and muzzles. But this… This is something entirely different. And strange. 

“Why in the world would you need this many handkerchiefs?” Caught off guard, Strahm quickly motions to the drawer that appears to be overflowing with a disarray of colours and patterns. 

A knowing grin brightening his features, Hoffman spares the Agent a smug glance. “The right attire is the key to communication,” he explains eloquently as if stating the obvious to an idiot. “These help me declare my needs more clearly.” 

The detective visibly expects some response, a reaction transmitting some sort of understanding. Instead, he observes Strahm stare back at him for at least a few seconds, his brow furrowed, before shrugging it off, muttering “whatever” under his breath and, finally, leaving. 

Hoffman lets his gaze linger on the door that his partner just slammed shut right before his eyes, in a hurry. He doesn’t move for a while longer but eventually, the initial surprise passes and the detective’s mind catches on. 

He reaches for his phone, going to his contacts without as much as looking at the screen. His fingers quickly tap a combination of buttons, creating a brief but clear and direct message. 

To: Lindsey Perez  k. running out of options. do i just stick a printed hanky code to his face or sth?

A/N: Thank you for reading! This is the first "chapter" of this work, hence more may appear in the future if I come up with something more.

Please, consider stopping by my Ao3! 💚

[whatdoyoumeanimacat]

𝐇𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ 𝐓𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐚 𝐱 𝐌𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌

▴ 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓-Ⅰ

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 - None, slight yandere behavior.

𝗚𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 - Fluff

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚*+:｡.｡+*:ꔫ:*﹤˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾*+:｡.｡

𝐓𝐇𝐄 sun was close to setting, as the sky was in a blue-ish orange color. It looked relaxing, for anyone who was in the Raincaller island. While you were busy exploring the world, nighttime was slowly approaching. Of course, the sight was beautiful for your eyes, But little did you know, your sight was the same for a certain someone. 

“Would it be alright if I rest for some time, and relax here?” You thought to yourself, confirming your thoughts with Mi-a. “I think it’s good if we rest here. Plus, the view here is fine.” For a slight moment, there was a smile on your face. The setting sunset was truly beautiful. The sun was now almost down. The moon shone brightly, the moonlight brightening up the place. You took a deep breath in and out. How long has it truly been since you relaxed a little? Who knows. Probably very long. Since the next time you’ll get to relax is a mystery, why not fully use your current time? You let out a deep sigh, before sitting down in the grass, simply staring at the moon. You took in the sight of the moon once again, before deciding to rest your head in the treebark, right behind you. Staring at the moon with random patches, was a pretty sight not many people would get to enjoy. You took a deep breath in once more before your eyes slowly felt heavy. It sure was a long day. You couldn’t pinpoint for how long your eyelids could keep up. Maybe it’d be best if you try and just let it go. Absolutely nothing was on your mind. Just a relaxed mind, with droopy eyes. You gently start to close your eyes. Halfway through, You heard an excited tone. “Hey! Seems like someone is relaxing well! Ooh! Look at the sight, isn’t the moon lovely?” It was Tsubasa. At once your eyes shoot up, as you rise from the bark. “Oh Tsubasa-! Hey! Yeah, I don’t know the next time I’ll get to relax like this, so thought of resting now itself.” She chuckled, before responding in her usual jolly tone. “Really? Sounds good! I don’t really have any quests right now, So, mind if I join ya?” 

“Of course!” You replied with a small smile. If all you were going to do is relax, it’d be nice to relax with someone, right? She let out a sigh before lying down next to you, with her arms behind her head. The silence was rather comforting. Just enjoying one’s presence and resting was preferred to hanging out and talking continuously. You both didn’t realize that this is what you needed. You then relax and lean into the tree bark once again but with your arms behind your head this time. It was comforting. Comforting enough to let you drift a little. Your eyes once again start to grow tired. They slowly start to close, as you hear the same enthusiastic tone, again. “Hey, [Name]?” 

Your eyes slowly open up. “Hm?” You question, not fully awake. “Do you… Uhm, Have you ever liked someone?” She asked, You think over the question, getting some clarity, as your sleep slowly starts to wash away. “Uh, No, not really..why?” She giggled. She then got up. She looked back at you. “Hey…?” Her suspicious question and behavior were starting to get to you. You blinked. “Ye-” You couldn’t complete your sentence as she cut you off. “I like you. I always have. I couldn’t tell you. I-” Right again, you cut her off. “You do?” The red tint on her cheeks didn’t go unnoticed by you. How could it? But the question stands. Could she see you blushing madly as well? You didn’t know. But if she did, she’d definitely start teasing. So she probably didn’t. For now. “I like you too.” You replied. She probably noticed your blush, as she was giggling and her blush reduced. “Be mine. Mine.” Her strange set of words caught you off guard, but at the same time, caused you to blush. “I… Of course.” What else could you say in this situation? She giggled. “I’m so glad.” She was blushing as well. She got up from the soft grass, sitting right beside you. Of course, you both were nervous, as this scene was getting kind of… awkward. Well, it would’ve been more awkward if she said that this was a prank or if you rejected it, but no. That isn’t the case, You both had true feelings for each other. 

The moon continued to shine brighter now. It was as if those pretty patches were reduced somehow. It was prettier than before, or it’s just your imagination. The world seemed a lot prettier than before as well. She sighed gently, resting her head on your shoulder. This was sudden, but of course, the comfort still remained. The heat on your face just grew more as blood rushed up to your face. “How long have you been thinking of me?” She raised a sudden question which just made you blush more. “Probably… since I’ve met you…” The last part, rather came off as a whisper. She chuckled. “You could’ve confessed, silly. Then I didn’t have to work too hard and constantly look for the right moment to confess.” She lifted her head off your shoulder before sighing. “I worked so hard!” She pouted, scolding you. This was rather a cute gesture, something probably expected from her. You laugh lightly. “I’m sorry, I- I didn’t know you felt the same.” She pouted, before resting her head on your shoulder this time. “Fine. I forgive you, Only because you’re mine.” Her silly behavior once more caught you off guard, causing you to let out a chuckle. “Hey! What’s so funny?!” She said. “Nothing.” She sighed. You started to enjoy the small moment of silence, relaxing. She then tilted her head slightly, enough to give her a clear view of your face. “Hey…” She looked up, lifting her head to meet your eyes. She places her hand under your chin, pulling it near her face.

“You’ve signed up for something…”

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ꕥ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊⋆ˊˎ-•̩̩͙-　*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚

© ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ꜱᴛᴇᴀʟ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ᴏʀ ɪ'ʟʟ ᴘɪꜱꜱ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴏᴜᴛʜ >:(