#(my main concern there is actually that i walk really fast and would have to keep checking to make sure i didn’t lose them)

[deityofhearts]

one of my fears that i feel like is irrational but also maybe valid is that people walking behind me scares me

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main AU

Masterpost

Guys, I'm so sorry. But here's this!

~~~~

Danny blinks and he is somewhere else. He’s sitting at a dining room table, surrounded. There are so many people here. They’re all talking over each other, some yelling, some laughing. This scene comes as a great surprise to him, who -one blink ago- was trying and failing to do his homework at home in his room. Danny shoots up, his chair making a horrible noise as he pushes it away so fast it tumbles over. Everyone in the room turns to look over at him like he’s insane. 

“Oh my god, who are you people?” Danny did not mean to say this out loud, but at the sound of his voice he startles. Danny takes a moment to assess, and then, “Oh my god who am I?”  He is tall, and big, and this is certainly not his body, what is he wearing.

The boy sitting to the right of Danny, a little shorter than he is, with black hair and blue eyes (though now that he’s paying attention that does describe most people in the room),  starts chuckling lightly. “Uh, Jason? Are you good?” 

Danny turns to stare him right in the eyes. “What day is it?”

And he can tell the concern around the table is just ratcheting up every time he opens his stupid mouth.

“Did you hit your head on patrol?” The voice comes from the only blond and one of the only girls in the room, who's to the left of the person across from him. The person across from him is another boy with black hair and blue eyes who is studying Danny in a way that makes him uncomfortable, that under-a-microscope look that makes you feel like you’re failing at something.

“I have no idea if Jason hit his head.” Danny says. “I was just trying to remember if it was my birthday.”

And if he thought the room was busy when he first arrived here it is absolute pandemonium now. Everyone starts shouting and asking questions that he can’t even hear over the shouting. Someone with white hair in a suit just came through a door he didn’t even see earlier to stand by the only person not shouting, who -Danny would guess- is the only other adult in this room, witting at the head of the table. He also has black hair and blue eyes, and where almost everyone else’s reaction was panic, he froze instead. The person across from Danny also isn’t shouting, but the person next to Danny on his right has now fully stood up and looks like he might actually jump across the table to win the argument he ended up in. 

“Are you Jason’s soulmate?” is the main gist of the shouting that Danny can interpret but he’s more concerned with actual Jason at the moment. If they switched bodies... Then Jason might be in trouble…

“Hey, I forget, how long is this body swap supposed to last again?” Danny asks.

“Until you and Jason have physical contact. You have to actually meet.” The boy sitting across from him explains. He seems like one of the only ones that heard Danny talk, everyone else was still shouting. 

“Oh, that just seems terrible. What if we’re in different countries or something?” Danny complained. “Everyone in the world is just supposed to be able to drop everything and afford to fly across the world. The universe is really trying to screw people over now. Honestly, am I in a different country? Where even are we right now?”

“You’re in Gotham.” This voice was new, coming from the head of the table to Danny’s right. 

“Oh no. Nope.” Danny started backing away from the table, almost tripping on his overturned chair. “Absolutely not, no, how do I get out of here?” He starts earnestly looking for a door to get out of this place, but there are three doors he can see and he has no idea where any of them go, and doesn’t this room have any windows? What kind of a room doesn’t have any windows? Do they like to eat in a basement?

“Jason- not Jason. Uh, you need to calm down, everything will be fine alright, We’ll get you and Jason introduced no problem.” Danny swivels to track the voice and it’s the one who was sitting next to him, he’s walking towards him with his hands up and out in front of him. 

“I have to get home.” Danny breathes. 

“We can get you there, promise. Now, I’m Dick, can you tell me your name?”

“Your name is Dick? Who named you Dick?” Danny is so confused he’s stopped panicking. “How old are you for you to go by the name Dick?”

“Okay, rude.” Dick sounds like a petulant child so Danny’s estimations for his age are continuously dropping. “I’m 24.”

Danny snorts. “Okay.” The blond girl starts laughing over at the table. “I’m uh, I’m Danny.”

“Nice to meet you. Sort of. I’m Tim.” The guy from across from him had made it over to stand next to Dick. “There’s a lot of us here today so the one laughing like a hyena is Steph. That one there is Duke.” African-American, still with black hair but he has brown eyes and waves once introduced. “Damian is the short one next to him, and Cass was sitting across from Dick earlier. Our dad, Jason’s dad-” 

“Not my dad!” Steph interrupted. Tim waves her off.

“Everyone but Steph's dad, is over there, Bruce. Alfred, our butler is the one next to him.” Alfred gives a slight nod to his head. Bruce is just staring at him.

“So, names out of the way. You said you wanted to go home, where do you live?”

“Amity Park.”

[the-dawn-star]

Helloooo it’s me again hehe! Is it possible if you can do an imagine for the the volturi kings in which they meet their last living descendant. Like she is a teen (orphaned) and was included in the tour and Marcus suddenly snapped to her direction since he can see bonds. He saw that somehow she is a descendant to all the three kings. He immediately offered Aro his hand who all too eagerly took it. And her personality can be like a mixed of the three she can be a bit playful like Aro, easily angered like Caius, and calm like Marcus. When they realize she was living in an orphanage they adopt her lol.

Thankkk you so much :))

A/N: Hi! First, I know that they aren't related really, but let's just pretend that they are for this post. And second, I love this idea, and I kind of picked what elements I took to my writing.

-S

+ 700ish words.

Getting vacations were rare when you lived in a room that had six other kids living with you. But this was your time to relax.  

You had earned enough money to travel around Europe for your 17th summer.  

Most people were concerned with a 17 year old traveling themselves but nothing could ruin your mood.  

You had done so much work for the opportunity to travel, and you found yourself at a nice town in Italy. 

Walking down the main street you saw a tour guide group, while the guide told something about the water fountain. And you couldn’t help but to stay and listen to the history of the town.  

You knew that you couldn’t afford whatever the guide was asking for, so you kept yourself out of sight at the back of the group.  

The group moved from the water fountain to the church in the middle of the city.  

So many stairs and hallways, only to end up in a marble hallway with massive wooden double doors.  

You let out a gasp as the doors opened into a massive room full of people in black robes.  

Someone let out a scream, and then a loud stop.  

You turned to look at the direction of the sound and saw all the people in the room confused.  

You had learned the basics of the Italian language, but you couldn’t decipher the fast pace of what was happening by three men who didn’t have the black robes on but weren’t clearly part of the tour group.  

And within a second the three men were looking at you, even if you were at the back of the room. 

A man with dark silky black hair said something again in Italian, and a hand wrapped itself around my arm. The next second you were in a different room that was something between a library and a living room.  

You didn’t know what to think, you had been just taken away against you will to a room in a place that you weren’t sure what it was. 

So you just sat on the sofa that you had been set on, by whoever took you arm by the man’s command.  

 You didn’t know what to do and to do your exhausting trip and the comfy sofa, you fell asleep.  

When you woke up there came a long explanation. 

You were a descendant of three God old vampires who were the kings of their species, and two of them had powers above the whole vampire thing.  

The night had fallen by the time you were caught up to speed. But still, there was million other things you were confused and tired of.  

Aro (who had most of the talking) held his hand to me, not forcing you but simply asking.  

“Now you know us, but we do not know much about you.”  

Aro was a bit creepy, but it was clear that came from being out of contact with humans for so long. Actually, that held up with all of them.  

You laid your hand to Aro’s palm and he took a hold of it with both of his hands.  

When Aro finally let go of your hand his red eyes were full of sorrow.  

“Your life has been something that no human should go through, nonetheless our descendants.”  

You couldn’t say anything, someone finally said what you had wished for so long. Someone saying that you didn’t deserve to go through the death of your parents.  

You blinked away the tears and covered your mouth with your hand.  

“We would like to get to know you officially if you are comfortable with that.” Marcus said and smiled for the first time since you had seen him.  

“You can stay here as long as you would like, I’m sure a little vacation wouldn’t hurt. And we will be sure that you are safe and comfortable with your stay.” Aro had a small sad smile on his lips, and I couldn’t help but nod. 

[teamnick]

Pierre in the Beyond The Grid podcast talking about his relationship with Esteban (and Yuki)

transcript under the cut

Tom Clarkson: Now, so much is made in the media about your relationship with your teammate, with Esteban. Have you rubbed along better as teammates than you were expecting?

Pierre: You know, I knew that it will not be easy…but at the same time I knew that we have grown up a lot. I was a little worried on how he’ll welcome me and how he’ll, let’s say, work with me…I was not too tense, I knew how would I approach it, and I know Esteban since a long time, so I sort of know how we work and we have different personalities, we are just two different type of people. But ultimately I think we’ve been working really well. You know, I think we understood the responsibility…my main concern was to work well with him, to make sure that we extract the maximum of the car, the maximum out of the team, that we’re both pushing in the same direction, and ultimately there’ll always gonna be a sort of healthy rivalry - one wanting to beat the other and this happens in every team. But what I cared the most is just make sure that, you know, this doesn’t impact the sort of evolution of the team and the evolution of the car, you need to...okay, its fine to have a rivalry, but we both need to walk towards the same direction, we all gotta be pushing the team forward and push the development and I must say its been exactly what we’ve been doing. I will not say we’re friends, we dont spend really much time together, but when we get to the track, this is work, and when we’re at work, we are mature and responsible and we are delivering. We have quite similar feedback, been pushing the team and requesting pretty much the same thing out of that car and how we’d like the team to develop, so I must say in terms of working relationship – it’s very formal, let’s say, between us, but thats, you know, thats all I can ask, because, yeah…at the end of the day I just want to be competitive.

TC: I’m thinking of MotoGP when Valentino Rossi and Jorge Lorenzo were at Yamaha, they literally had two different teams within the team, but its not like that at Alpine…

Pierre: No, no, honestly, it’s not like this…I mean, I know, I know Esteban won’t invite me for dinner, but I’m fine with that. You know, it’s very, let’s say, it’s very different to what I had with Yuki, you know, Yuki was very unique…and you know, in Austin I had a chat with Sir Jackie Stewart, and it was just very inspiring to hear his relationship with Francois Cevert. And as he was talking, it’s almost like I could relate to my relationship with Yuki, in the way that he came to F1, I was supporting and trying to help and it was a very genuine and healthy relationship. Now with Esteban you know we are both fighting for our career, we both wanna make it to the top, we both wanna be the leaders of the team, and you know, its fine, I accept that and I actually embrace the challenge, I embrace the competition, because at the end of the day Esteban is a very fast and very talented driver, and thats what you need also as a teammate, you need someone that’s gonna be pushing you, someone that’s gonna be pushing the team, you want someone that is competitive. And I really respect that it’s…I know how much he wants to beat me. At the same time he knows exactly how much I wanna beat him every single time, and it’s not something which is personal, because at the end of the day I care about all 19 drivers and as I say, I dont wanna beat Esteban, I wanna beat everyone. To beat everyone, I need Esteban to be pushing me and to be pushing the team to improve the car, and that’s exactly what we’ve been doing. So I think probably not as exciting for the media, they have all the sparks and stories and drama people would have expected, but it’s been…yeah it’s been great.

[one-of-tankhuns-neurons]

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN PIT BABE IS ABO

How did I walk into UNTAGGED ABO IRL this hAs to be a first for me.

I mean, I understand they might've not wanted to market it like that to start a drama, or mAybe I'm just plain stupid and this was public knowledge but anyway here are my thOughts

Imma quote my favorite BL of all time and say "It cOuld be Extraordinary" I mean, it really could.

I believe the first episode was just to set the scene for the show, but let's address specific points

I WANNA MAKE IT CLEAR THAT I DIDN'T READ THE SOURCE MATERIAL THANK YOU

1. The ABO

Let's get this out of the way we knOw it's a difficult topic, and my main concern with it was that they would adapt some random ass manga/manhwa just to establish a bullshit dominant vs submissive horny dynamic that ended up in a very polemic mpreg.

But I encountered either a 'hot omega' - 'dorky alpha dynamic' where both have issues with their second sex traits (specially pheromones) or an alpha-alpha relationship with the same issues, which could lead to a bUnch of social commentary using the ABO social hierarchy.

Apart from that, I believe using those resources for the first big ABO production might have been a good call to ease the general public into it and not dwelling on the full nesting-marking-knotting and whatnot. I mean, it probably might never reach the full power of the genre, but if it works it might crack the door open for this.

2. The story itself

I had this discussion with my best friend (who has recommended me most of the ABO I've read) and we came to the conclusion that this feels like watching something straight out of AO3 fanfiction where the characters are clearly already established (bc the characters come pre built as they're based on ActUaL people) so the point is just telling this story full of made up violence, mafia, infatuation, possessiveness and desire. I kind of love it??? I am obviously not judging it as an ordinary BL, but for what it presented on the first episode it really could be great. I love how we have been introduced to a character like Charlie that will not just be this helpless boy that gets thrown around, he has more agency than we thought.

3 Production and stuff

Oh I love cars and stuff that goes fAst and slicked back hair and blue vs red and ALL the cliches, and I feel like it's done well. We could hate on kinnporsche for many things but it rOse the standards for commercial production. It also has really good actors whose previous work I've seen and liked very much. I also really applaud them for taking this shit seriously, bc many people half ass their acting in strange situation and that shows professionalism.

4. the more I think about it the more I'm excited for the show, and that's bAd because I'm building expectations and that nOt good so here are some point that require attention.

The ABO. This will be an issue until the lAst second of the show, because the way that it is portrayed will be perceived as a direct representation of the whole genre, so they ought to be careful.

The ABO agAin.. what parts are they gonna portray and hOw, because the main couple is not the only one, so I want to know how they will present an (explicitly confirmed) omega and how it will play into the social hierarchy . They already introduced scent and pheromones, and they did it tastefully, so kudos on that.

The ABO.. I'm kidding.

The story, this story might play into some kind of toxic and violent stuff that is becoming a bit problematic for certain audiences, and as I say.. problematic shows and up in problematic situations, so how I want to see how it plays out. But the fact that Charlie is giving 'morally gray that could end up falling' vibes and that gives me hOpe.

The discourse it might start. Oh this world can be a hot mEss and people could start a whole ass battle as this genre that usually was counterculture territory is now brought into this context.

Shit I'm way to nervous about this show... PLEASE IF YOU KNOW MORE let me know, I want to discuss and have a better opinion on it. If you need to call me an idiot in the process I'll take it.

[kingfyre]

– katabasis | p.js

There’s an incomparable beauty to it – death wearing the skin of life.

Jisung sees it too.

PAIRING. park jisung x gender neutral!reader

GENRE. urban fantasy, taxidermist!reader, rich buyer!jisung, monster hunter!donghyuck

WORD COUNT. 4.3k

WARNINGS. cryptids and monsters, folklore, mentions of corpses, implied murder

TAGLIST. @moonlightjeno, @haikchoo-main, @adorablele  

NOTES. read the warnings if you get confused

He’s here again.

The tall man with the pearl necklace who never actually purchases anything, to your dismay, and instead spends his time looking, only looking, at the same mounts over and over again before rushing away when you get close. You often catch him nodding and whispering to himself. Studying them, perhaps? Looking for imperfections that aren’t there.

You have half a mind to shove the mounted specimen into his hands and dare him to find a single fault. You pride yourself on being the best at what you do. And so you find yourself walking up behind him, silent steps on porcelain floor. “Hello!”

The man startles, broken out of his stupor, turning around with wide eyes and furrowed eyebrows. A timid smile fast replaces the look on his face, and he greets you in a hushed voice, "Hello."

"May I help you with something?"

"Oh, I'm just… looking around," the man says. He shakes out his hair and glances at the mounts, eyes flitting over them one by one. The smell of dried, pressed marigolds wafts through the air – a sweet floral scent with a bitter edge.

"Are you looking for anything specific?"

"I – I wanted to start collecting,” he says after a while, glancing at you before his gaze wanders away once more. “I'm afraid I haven't really thought past that…"

"Well, that's alright. Easily remedied," you nod, offering a smile you hope seems understanding. "Do you know what it is you’d like to start collecting?”

The man stands and stares at you with a blank look. Moments pass without the sound of the man’s voice and so you suggest, “Birds? Insects?”

You laugh at the face the man makes at your last suggestion. “A clear no for the insects, then.”

“Uh, well – I’d like a mount for my living room,” the man tries for a smile – bashful, sweet –, taking his hands out of his pocket. He clasps his hands together and tilts his head up to the ceiling, looking lost in thought before he catches himself and continues, “Something classy? Majestic? Something to make it less … empty.”

“I certainly have plenty that fit these conditions,” you smile, finding something oddly endearing in the way the man behaves himself.

You beckon for him to follow and begin walking toward the collection of your larger mounts, leaving the man to trail after. Though much unlike your usual clients, there have been few like him who have come to your shop without knowing what it is they want – typically the ones who walk out empty-handed. It’s not something that bothers you, but you’re determined to end this one differently.

The man stays silent as you begin to provide advice on the variety of mounts that would best suit his needs and expectations.

“And these… are sourced ethically?”

You blink, baring teeth in a wide smile. “Of course! I have different sources for all the specimens I work on.” You turn around, gesturing to all the different mounts and figures displayed around you. “Hunters, of course. Veterinarians, Animal Control, and the local Pet Store often donate as well – strays, pets that have passed away, and animals who cannot be re-released."

The man nods, mouth shaped in an ‘O’ as he listens to your usual spiel to clients who come concerned, asking the very same. ‘Ethical Taxidermy’ is a label you find as humorous as it is ill-defined, slapped on difficult work to make more appealing. It’s not something you’re innocent nor repentant of when it comes to the business you truly want to run.

"Better off here, wouldn’t you agree?” you tilt your head. “Better off taken care of, preserved to look as they had when alive, rather than thrown in the garbage or cremated.”

“Given a second life,” the man murmurs, looking straight back at you, unafraid to meet your eye.

A smile graces your lips, pleased. “That’s right.”

Silence ensues – strange, but not entirely uncomfortable. When the man averts his gaze, turning his attention back to the array of mounts he’s seen time and time before, you take the opportunity presented to you. You rake your eyes over raven hair and olive skin, a Greek nose, and full lips, rosy and dampened by a quick flash of tongue. Eye the patterned scarf, silk and expensive, draped over long limbs dressed in a brown sweater and a pink button-down, and the white pearls adorning his ears and hanging from his neck. It’s something out of a magazine – the way the man dresses.

“It’s an incredible collection you have,” the man remarks. He looks back at you with a curious gaze. “What has been your most extraordinary project to date?”

It’s not a difficult question to answer.

“An ongoing one at the moment,” you say, thinking fondly of the mount that waits for you behind closed doors. “A long, repetitive, arduous procedure that I continue to better my abilities with.”

The room stays quiet. You do not say more and the man strangely does not ask. You look back into dark brown eyes and smile, strangely aware of the beat of your heart.

Moments pass after moment until the silence is broken. “Which would you recommend?” he asks. “Out of all the mounts?”

“Generally, I would recommend starting small if you don’t know where to begin. Work your way up to bigger mounts. But if you have no personal preference and merely want something big – something that takes up a considerable amount of space in your living room without crowding it – I suppose it all depends on how large your living room is then.”

“Quite big,” the man says, nodding to himself. “Very big.”

“Then a bull moose, perhaps,” you say. You lead the man to where the mount stands; the proud being it is, and rightfully so. You’ve strived to keep it all in this portrayal – the confidence in its gait, the strength in its physicality, the pride in its abilities. “A majestic piece. Powerful. An incredible way to lessen the emptiness of a large room.”

You wait – wait until you’re rewarded with the words you want to hear.

“I’ll take it.”

You smile. “Perfect.” You’ve done this hundreds of times before – but this feels different. This man will be back, hasn’t even left yet, and you already find yourself looking forward to it all the same.

“I’ll need you to fill this out,” you tell him, when you’ve relocated to the counter and you’re handing him the formalities. “Your name, date of birth, the address you’d like me to deliver it to, and your signature, please.”

It’s a process as swift as it is quiet.

The bell rings when the man leaves your studio and you glance at the paper in your hands.

Park Jisung.

Jisung returns not even two weeks later and purchases another mount – a towering menace of a beauty that you had slaved on after Kun had brought it in nearly a year ago. One of the oldest mounts still left in your store, you’re almost sad to see it go. Almost.

You had seen him before he came in – watched him bumble in his patterned scarf, pearl necklace strung neatly on his neck, pausing right before he pulled the door open. The bell had rung and you smiled from your desk, bright and wide.

“Here for another?”

Jisung had nodded, a sheepish smile on his lips, and it was all too easy for you to lead him to your biggest mounts.

Jisung naturally gravitates to your bigger mounts, looking for more to make his space less empty he says. Make it comfortable, make it occupied.

It’s all Jisung will consider seriously, all he’ll consider with the intention of actually taking it off your hands. Naturally, you disagree; reasons with him that smaller specimens can have a mighty presence too, when displayed correctly.

(Jisung takes home a box that visit, a golden hamster inside that you find Jisung bears a resemblance to. You find out later on that Jisung keeps it in his bedroom and is elated.)

It becomes a routine. You see the passing months in pieces, but standing front and center of your mind is this: Jisung returning with his bottomless pockets of money and simply buying another creature, another mount – whatever he likes like it’s nothing to him. Thousands spent, tens of thousands spent, all on finished works, but he comes back, intervals never longer than a dozen days.

“These can’t all be for your living room,” you remark one day, watching as Jisung signs away thousands of dollars yet again.

“It’s not,” Jisung says easily, not even bothering to look up. “I’ve emptied out a room for them.”

You stare until Jisung meets your eyes and you laugh, suddenly breathless. You tell Jisung to show you a picture the next time he comes back, but Jisung merely shakes his head.

“You should see it in person,” Jisung says. “It’s better in person.”

Your heart thuds, and you smile, “I’ll wait for your invitation.”

Change comes in a quiet voice, thinly veiled curiosity asked in a voice that’s grown so familiar you don't register it at first.

It's a simple question – but it changes everything, that much is clear.

“How do I commission a specific creature?”

“Usually, you’d have to pick a hunter first,” you say. “Commission the kill and then instruct them to bring the corpse to me.”

“Oh.”

You glance at him, wandering back and forth, unable to stand still, from mount to mount like he hasn’t seen these a dozen times by now. “Which would you like?” you ask, tilting your head. You place your pen down and lean back into your chair. “I have friends who can hunt it for you.”

Jisung looks back at you. There's a moment of prolonged silence and you observe the way Jisung lowers his gaze to the ground and blinks – the way his eyes glaze over like he’s gone somewhere else entirely. He walks back to the counter slowly, meets your eyes slowly. It takes a while for Jisung to communicate what he wants. “I want something so special I believe only you would be able to provide.”

“Flattering,” you say, eyebrow raised and a smile pulling at your lips. “I won’t do it for free despite that.”

Jisung doesn’t hesitate with his answer. “I’ll pay whatever amount you’d like.”

“What is it then?”

Jisung blinks – opens his mouth, then shuts it. “Cryptids,” he says. “I’d like to commission a cryptid mount.”

It’s hard to ignore the spark that crackles inside your stomach after Jisung utters his request. The ceiling lights feel a little stronger, white and bright and casting shadows on Jisung’s face. Angular lines on the essence of youth.

“And if I told you I don’t do them?”

Jisung’s face stays carefully blank. “Then I would ask you to forget I ever asked.”

You laugh. Shaking your head, you comb a hand through your hair as you stand from your seat. “Cryptid mounting isn’t illegal here, Jisung. Looked down upon, sure. But it’s never really done by the people who matter, is it?”

It's endearing to you – the way Jisung ducks his head, skirting the statement he could've easily known through some research, skirting the question he already knows the answer to. You don’t wait for an answer Jisung won't provide. You turn around; Jisung follows.

The cryptid room is bigger though less filled, with a higher ceiling to accommodate for the towering heights the creatures have. You look back at Jisung who looks around, eyes brimming with the sort of wonder you would argue one could only see in a child.

“Not your first time seeing one?”

“No,” Jisung shakes his head. “No, my parents kept one on display in our living room as I grew up.”

“I see,” you say. “What was it, exactly?”

“A Baku.”

“Dream-eaters,” you note. Common then, rarer now, after all the hunting history and folklore have put it through. You’ve never mounted a Baku before. “Did it work?”

Jisung makes a face, pressing his hands to his cheeks, eyes still trained on the exhibit, jumping from creature to creature. His voice comes out distracted. “Hm? Not really.”

“Is that what established the curiosity?”

“I suppose so.”

The answer comes in a voice bordering absentminded, so you leave it at that, letting him pace the room and explore the options he's been presented.

“I’ll take this one,” Jisung points to a Wendigo you’d mounted months before you ever approached Jisung, abandoned by its original buyer after seeing the sheer size of it. “Along with the commission.”

You smile, thinking of the present that came alongside it.

"A what?"

"A Katshituashku," you drawl into your phone, dragging every syllable out. Donghyuck is seated, in what you would guess is the little gas station at the corner of Main and Seventh, toying with the straw in his drink. You see Jaemin in the background and consider sending him a wave before he disappears from the frame entirely.

"No, shut up, I heard you the first time," Donghyuck says, a scowl pulling at his lips. He looks up from his drink, “A Katshituashku?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, that’s –” Donghyuck pauses. The interest on his face is evident; taking down a Katshituashku would make for great publicity, near invincible as it is, only wounded through the soles of its feet. You already know the answer before Donghyuck says it. “Where?”

“How would I know? That’s your job.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes and sets his drink aside. “Sorry I assumed the buyer knew where what he wanted was?”

You sigh, “He mentioned Maine?”

“How much?”

“For free.”

Donghyuck reaches out and grabs his phone from whatever it’s leaning on, shoving his face closer to the camera. He narrows his eyes, “I’m hanging up.”

“Have you ever known me to be a cheapskate?” you huff. “Do it quickly and you can name whatever price you want, yes?”

Donghyuck lights up, well aware that you would give him whatever amount he asks for – if kept reasonable. He grins and salutes you through his screen, “Whatever you say goes, boss man.”

You text Jisung as soon as it arrives.

The body was delivered today. You can come see it, if you’re free.

Jisung shows up in record time.

You don't know why you ask, but the words come easy, like it's been sitting on your tongue for years, waiting to be said at that exact moment. "Would you like to watch?"

Jisung stills, looking at you with wide eyes. "I'm sorry?"

"Would you like to watch me work on your commission?" you cock your head to the side. "You can come whenever you’d like to. If you have nothing else to do, that is."

“I’d love to!” he beams, clasping his hands together akin to a prayer. “To stay and watch, please.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Don’t you have a job? Matters to attend to?”

“Not one that expects me too much.”

"A strange job. Or the ideal one. If you're earning enough to be buying as many mounts as you are." You purse your lips. “Stay where I can see you. Peripheral or central vision. I don’t like people wandering around my workshop without my knowledge.”

Shifting from one foot to the other, Jisung tugs at the ends of his clothes, nodding at every word that comes out of your mouth.

“Most importantly – do not distract me,” you warn him, wagging your finger at the taller man. “Else it is your commission quality on the line.”

The smile on Jisung's face is brighter and warmer than any bonfire you’ve ever set.

Jisung proves capable of following your simple rule the first few weeks, only asking his burning questions once you’ve put down your tools and seated yourself beside him for a break.

“Isn’t it limiting?”

“What is?”

“Not opening during business hours. Being open six hours a day, only three days a week limits your market reach.”

You shrug. It’s always worked for you. More time to dedicate to the crafting process, more to maximize productivity. “I reach the people I want to reach. Friends, friends of friends.” People who can afford it. People who can and have no problem ignoring the illegal aspects that could come with the practice, you leave unsaid.

“You’re one of the only ones who come to visit my lonely little store, anyway. Most customers don’t personally come to the shop,” you continue. “They call, they email, they make the order and put in a deposit. Then I ship the mount when I’m finished.”

Jisung keeps quiet. Stays in his place, in the corner of your eye, and absentmindedly traces the wood grain of the table. His eyes never seem to leave you. Not until you look back.

“I’m not in it for the money,” you say, after a long stretch of silence. God knows you have enough.

“I know,” Jisung says, a small smile on his face. “Otherwise you’d be charging me for this commission a whole lot more.”

Jisung leaves and you finally get to work on what you’ve been looking forward to all week.

A present from Donghyuck. A burden lifted from Donghyuck.

You open another door to Mark’s smiling face and take in the cool air that greets your face. You sigh – deep, anticipatory. Content.

Mark is smiling at you, and so you smile back, wide and full, eager to keep Mark at his best.

“I almost thought you were on display.” 

You look up from what you’re doing and stare at Jisung, sitting straight and proper from where he observes. “What did you say?”

“I almost thought it was you on display,” Jisung leans forward onto the table in front of him, “So focused. Unmoving. Beautiful.”

“You should be,” Jisung murmurs, nodding to himself, and you watch the way his eyes rake over your face, the way he stares and so unabashedly meets your eyes with an indecipherable intensity. Something close to wonder. Something close to desire.

“Jisung-ah,” you say and imagine yourself standing from your seat. Walking over to Jisung and bending him over the table he’s leaning on. Jisung would let you. You know that much.

“Yes?”

“Be quiet.”

When Jisung leaves, You stay in your workshop and stare at the closed door leading to the cold room. Stare until your breath deepens and your heart rate rises.

I almost thought it was you on display.

You find that you don’t dislike the thought of it at all.

You could be. In another world. Created by the very few hands you trust. You would be a beautiful mount – Jisung’s mount – situated in his living room, his study, his bedroom. Wherever Jisung would want to place you.

Like Mark.

The first and only time Jisung breaks your rule is at your own instruction.

It comes with a cost.

“Jisung-ah?”

No answer.

You sigh, pressing your lips into a frustrated frown. “Jisung, I need those tools now.”

How long does it take to retrieve a honing steel and a simple sanding stick? Still, you receive no answer. You shudder, feeling the brush of cool air on your skin. Did Jisung open a window?

“Jisung-ah, what in the world are you doing –”

Then, you look back and see the door to the wrong room open, feeling your heart drop from your chest. The drag of your chair echoes loudly through the room, scraping against porcelain tiles. You reach for the shaving knife on the next table and wrap your fingers around it with a vicelike grip, taking tentative steps toward the opened room.

Mark has always been the most dominating presence in a room. It extends to death, still the center of attention, situated in your cold room. Jisung is transfixed.

Something ugly blooms inside your chest, a bitter flower full of thorns.

“So this is why Mark hyung’s body hasn’t been found,” Jisung says when you step into the room. “Everyone assumes he’s just been eaten by something. Flesh stripped to the bone.”

Jisung takes a step closer, and you watch as he tilts his head and begins circling the mount with a blank look on his face.

You grip the tool at hand a little tighter, and imagine what Jisung would look like – head bashed in, flesh and bone drenched in red, a face once so handsome unrecognizable to the human eye. A shame, really.

Or perhaps you’ve earned a new addition to your growing collection.

“He looks so,” Jisung pauses, lips pressing together in a tight line. “Preserved.”

“You captured his smile so well—” Jisung laughs softly and you do not know what to make of it. It’s not what you’ve expected, not what you’ve daydreamed or dreaded during those few sleepless nights.

You don’t know what you expected.

“This is embalming, isn’t it?” Jisung asks. The smile on his face is still the same – as good and as pure as you’ve ever seen on his lips. “How long does it take you? How often? Do you do it by yourself?”

“Get out.”

Jisung reaches for you, a kind, excited look in his eye that must betray what you imagine he must truly be feeling. “Y/N, it’s –”

“Get the fuck out of my store before I change my mind, Jisung,” you snap.

Jisung pulls his hands back and looks at you, taking a step back. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks at you – a graveyard in his mouth, filled with all the words you won’t let him say.

It’s a terrible decision that hits you full force in the stomach once Jisung disappears from sight.

Jisung doesn’t come back the next day. Or the next week. Or the week after that.

The shop feels emptier, colder. Mark’s family do not come barging in, looking for their son’s dead body, still whole and preserved, like you had intended to keep.

You continue working on the commission during the day and scream your frustration into your room during the night.

Jisung returns twenty-three days later, an hour before closing times.

You see him before he comes in, in his brown sweater and pearl earrings, pulling at the door with the certainty that he’d grown into all those months ago.

It’s too easy, inviting him back into your workshop. Too easy, falling back into old habits.

“How did you get his body?”

You evade the question and throw one of your own. “You knew him?”

“Our families are friends.”

“And were you?”

“I looked up to him,” Jisung shrugs. “I wanted to be a hunter like him – and his whole family before him, I suppose – when I was younger.”

“But?”

“My parents forbade it.”

You hum as you prepare the mold, carving muscles and veins into place one after the other. You’re making good time – further along than you had expected to be at this point. “Well, it’s a good thing they did. You’d likely fall on your weapon before even spotting the cryptid.”

“I wouldn’t fall on my weapon at all!” Jisung makes an offended sound, plump lips pursed into a pout before you send him a look that reminds him of his volume. He slouches, curling into himself before murmuring, “I’d just need training. I could’ve been a hunter if I’d gotten some.”

"Maybe." You could see it. Bloodstains on hunter's clothes, dried mud on leather boots, lethality at hand. You glance at Jisung, pressing your lips together. “You could’ve.”

“We might’ve met earlier if I had become one,” Jisung muses.

"You could still be one," you say. "Then I'd have you hunt for me."

“Was Mark your first?”

A face flashes before your eyes – striking features complemented by delicateness; sharp eyes and full lips with a captivating draw. The first. The failure. The reason why you started.

So significant then, now a muddled memory you struggle to hold on to by a loose thread. A corpse in the ground that you’ll forever regret.

You try to smile. Was Mark your first? Of course not. First victory? First triumph? Perhaps, you could say that. It’s not perfection yet, but it’s the closest you’ve gotten by far. But to get to even this level of mediocrity, you needed practice, you needed failure – as all great artists do. “What do you think?”

“No.”

“There you go.”

Moments after moments pass. You don’t need to look up from your work to know that Jisung is staring. He always is. You don’t ever want him to look away.

“Could I see him again?”

You close your eyes, pausing your work and hovering your file over the foam. “Jisung –”

“Please,” comes the plea, “Just for a moment.”

Jisung has a way of slipping through defenses, a way of pushing through the rifts with glittering eyes and quiet pleas.

Or perhaps you simply let him.

Walking inside the cold room with an audience to something you’d never meant to have on display just yet is disconcerting.

Not as it had weeks before. But unsettling nevertheless. 

It's not ready. Not perfect. Not worth presenting to someone you want to show nothing less than magnificence to.

But Jisung seems to think otherwise.

"Have I mentioned how much I love your work?" Jisung turns back to face you and smiles widely. There’s something in his eyes that washes a wave of warmth all over your body. It's admiration. Devotion.

Slowly, sweetly, you smile back and tilt your head. “No, I don’t think you have.”

Black loafers click against porcelain tiles as Jisung walks towards you, closer and closer, until you see nothing but kind eyes and full lips. The air smells like marigolds and you draw in a deep breath.

“Y/N,” Jisung says.

Mark’s watching as you reach up, cold fingertips on warm skin, cupping Jisung’s cheek. Jisung sighs, deep, content, and presses closer, closing his eyes.

“Y/N,” he says again.

Inhale. Exhale. A breath of warm air against your lips.

Jisung will make the journey with you.

The journey to perfection.

[onlyhereforghosttrick]

No time to say goodbye - A PMD2 Oneshot

Yup that's right! Did you think I was joking? No I was NOT! It's here, it's done, and I am VERY EXCITED ABOUT THAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Before we actually get into stuff, small disclaimer; this fic contains the following:

Canon non-compliance

PMD2 Main game spoilers

PMD2 Post game spoilers

PMD2 Special episode spoilers somehow probably

Fan characters [all of which are mine] and canon characters alike

A writer who has no idea what he's doing

A beginning that came out better than the middle

and the eighth deadly sin: Acknowledgement of the fairy typing in the context of a pmd game that isn't super.

With that out of the way, I hope you enjoy and I hope it hurts you at least somewhat! [but like in a good way]

Makoto reached into his bag, a sense of urgency on his mind. Come on, where did I...? His thoughts were cut short and replaced with another jolt of panic as growls came from the two passages surrounding the room he was in, telling him one thing: They were closing in on him fast. His fears were quickly confirmed as the Sableye entered the room, one from each entrance, but apparently not quickly enough- as he quickly pulled out a Totter orb, slamming it towards the ground and closing his eyes to the ensuing flash.

The two staggered around slightly, confused by the bright light, and Makoto took a moment of pause to catch his breath... before quickly dashing past the passage one of them had previously been blocking. And there, on the other side were the stairs to finally lead him out of this place. It seemed he had been taking too long, though, as the Sableye had both recovered while he was climbing the stairs and were now catching up to him. Taking out the other item he had withdrawn from his bag, a blast seed, a quick spark was all it needed before the explosion was already started. Taking his last few steps through the stairs as the explosion began to now echo from behind him, each step passing through distortion after distortion until...

"HUHHHH" Makoto let out a loud gasp as he practically fell through the exit to the mystery dungeon, seemingly startling his two companions that were waiting for him to catch up on the other side. He quickly picked himself up, walking over to them. "Alright, note to self, detonating a blast seed in an attempt to cave in the exit to a mystery dungeon so you can't be followed is probably my worst idea." He brought the bag he'd been carrying around to check it again quickly. Okay, oran berries, heal seeds, reviver seeds, a few luminous orbs, apples... should be good to go.

The two he were travelling with were mons he had more than enough time to familiarize himself with. ...Well, he wasn't really sure how much time he had known them since time had been stopped for a while, but the point still stood. The two were Minami, the Grovyle he had been raising from a Treecko before all of this started happening, and Celebi, a shiny little whimsical time fairy who had for some reason decided to help them. "Well, that's your fault for misjudging their power." Celebi reminded him. Since he was a human and not a pokemon, he couldn't understand what they were saying. Instead, she had somehow managed to learn to talk to him via psychic messages, and while he wasn't sure how it worked, it made communication a lot easier, so he didn't bother questioning it.

"That, and you should try not splitting up next time. You have no idea how nerve-racking it was to imagine how poorly you would fare for an entire 12 floors with those Sableye following you." She kept putting an unnecessary amount of flair into her wording, and while that did distract a bit from the intention, he could tell her concern was genuine. "Yeah, alright, no suggesting splitting up next time, I got that. Not like we'll need to." I responded, taking my bag off my shoulder and handing it to Minami. He was the one who usually held it anyways, I just took it because dungeon items were really the only way to defend myself since I didn't have the combat techniques either of them had. "But anyways, we should get-" A shrill howl pierced past my words, a reminder of why we had to keep moving. "...going, before they show up." I finished.

In addition to the usual chasers of Dusknoir and his Sableye army, their actions had recently reached a new audience, who were somehow twice as eager to get rid of them. Two of them, both dark-types, and apparently both with names too. Makoto wasn't sure why Celebi told them that, but he supposed it made referring to them easier. The first was a Zoroark named 'Feysara'. He was very clearly the more tactically oriented and leader-y of the two, although they still managed to best him most of the time regardless. The other was an Umbreon, apparently named 'Aigiel'. Stats-wise she was a bit worse off, but sheer brutality and execution made her arguably the more dangerous of the two. Once, when talking, Celebi made a comment about 'thinking Umbreon was supposed to be an evolution tied to friendship' that he hadn't been able to make heads nor tails of. And sometimes... neither of them seemed to see it, but he thought he saw a third pokemon lurking in the shadows behind them sometimes.

Another howl cut through the lifeless trees, this one closer than the one before it. "We have to go." He quickly snapped, getting up from the slight lean he had gotten into and heading towards the next clearing. "Are you both ready?" Minami gave a nod and quickly jogged over to him to follow, but Celebi...

"I'm staying behind." That wasn't the answer he expected to hear from her. Apparently his confusion was obvious, because she quickly began explaining. "I can take them. It's not like I don't have fairy type moves or anything. Besides, someone should probably need to hold them off while you two go do what needs to be done. The passage of time is just in the clearing up ahead, and I trust you know exactly what you're doing." Makoto paused, hesitant to just leave her behind... but this was what she wanted, so he supposed it was best not to fight her over it.

"Alright. Just... tell us if something goes wrong." He accepted her wishes , continuing forwards towards the Passage of time.... towards their last hope to save the future. I can't let their sacrifices be in vain.

---------------------------

Stepping into the clearing between the continuing treeline, Celebi wasn't wrong- the passage of time was right there. Not saying a word- partially because they wouldn't be able to understand each other if they did- the two exchanged a nod, and walked forwards.

It was oddly calm as they stood before the passage, as it formed an odd rippling pattern. Walking forward into it, a sense of distortion- similar to that of the mystery dungeons, albeit somewhat different, surrounded them. Makoto knew they couldn't be held off forever, so he really just hoped that Celebi was right about them not being able to follow them through.

A rustle echoed from the trees behind them. They kept going, but Makoto figured he might as well check. Looking back, he saw Aigiel- they must have broken away from fighting Celebi, but likely only them if Feysara wasn't with her. He kept walking, until he heard something else... and turning around again... his heart stopped for a moment as he saw a Dark pulse, aimed right at an unaware Minami.

Time seemed to slow and distort as he took one step after another, pushing him out of the way... only for time to catch up again, just in time to feel the pulse impact into him and send him flying backwards.

The momentum backwards never quite stopped, just slowed enough for him to start falling instead. He saw Minami pause, before rushing ahead. He understood, though- hestitating now would make it all for nothing. And as he continued to fall, Makoto's consciousness failed him... for the last and only time.

---------------------------

When he awoke again... the sun was shining down on him as waves crashed against his unmoving body. Everything hurt. It felt like he had just been slammed in the stomach, although by what he wasn't sure.

Who was he...? He couldn't quite remember. One name came to mind, which had to be his... 'Makoto'. And the fact he was a human ...but nothing else seemed to appear to him. Was that... really all he remembered...? As his eyes adjusted to the sunlight shining down on him, he quickly realized there was someone else there: A nervous-looking Eevee.

As she seemingly realized he was both awake and had noticed her, she started rambling at impressive speeds. "A-are you okay? You were washed up here and you hadn't been moving and I was starting to get worried and- and-" He wasn't sure how he was understanding her, but asking that could wait. "O-oh, I'm sorry, I haven't introduced myself yet," She interrupted herself, "My name's Aigiel. What's yours?"

[natimiles]

Come a Little Closer | Chapter 5 (final)

Read: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

Words: 4489

Pairs: gn!reader/Arthur; f!MC/Mozart

Tags: swearing; drinking; spoilers from Mozart’s and Arthur’s route in one big bowl of salad; lots of pet names (because I love it); MC is the one in-game, just to make it more clear; Mozart being petty; reader and Arthur being adorable and chaotic; suggestive scenes because we have Arthot as one of the main characters; Arthur simping over you.

Breakfast had been as normal as it could be. Dazai entered through the window, returning from who knows where; Theo stuffed his face with pancakes and syrup; and Jean had to be dragged out of his room to actually eat something. However, Mozart didn’t show up, and you didn’t hear him playing through the night, so you weren’t sure what happened.

When everyone finished and dispersed to their respective rooms and errands, you went to the kitchen to clean up. Arthur sometimes stayed to keep you company, chat about trivialities, and even help when Sebastian allowed him — and he didn’t approve much of Arthur’s help ever since the writer said he’d do the dishes, hit his arm on three glasses that were too close to the edge of the sink, and broke them. Today was one of those days that he stayed but wasn’t allowed to touch anything.

Sebastian went to Comte’s office, probably to give him his morning tea, while MC was assembling Isaac’s brunch. And Arthur pulled a chair to your side, hugging you by the waist while you finished polishing the cutlery.

“I’ll get this to Isaac. Be right back!” MC said, leaving the kitchen.

“Sooo,” Arthur said, a cheeky smile on his face. He got up to corner you against the counter. “Looks like we’re alone, my love.”

“Well observed, detective,” you giggled.

“Any ideas?”

"Lots of them,” you said, turning around to look at him. He grinned, but it faded quickly. “But none for right now because I have a ton of work to do.”

"Come on, honey, humor me," he pouted, and you couldn't help but burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry, honey, but I really need to finish here,” you consoled him. “But I can make up to you some other time.”

“Mmm, tempting,” he leaned in and gave you a quick kiss on the lips.

"For God’s sake, I don’t want to see it every time I walk into a room,” Mozart said, sounding disgusted. “I promised to behave, but you have to as well. And it’s not sanitary to do it here,” he frowned.

“Would you prefer we go to my room?” Arthur asked, smirking.

The musician looked at you, as if asking permission to kill your boyfriend right this instant. He opted to just groan and get something to eat. “Don’t push your luck.”

“I’m just teasing you, Wolfie. You need to get laid to relax a little.”

Mozart whipped around so fast to face Arthur that his neck snapped, his eyes widening in horror and surprise. He was blushing so hard that even his ears were red. You didn’t know if it was anger or embarrassment, probably both.

“Why would you say it out loud?” you sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Was?” His voice finally came out. Looked like Arthur broke your brother.

Silence. No one dared to say a word for a whole minute.

“Is everything okay, Mozart?” MC’s melodious voice cut through the awkward silence, prompting all three of you to stop staring at each other and turn to look at her standing in the doorway. You really liked MC, but now was the worst time for her to come back. “Your face is really red. Are you sick? Can I help you with something?”

Oh, no. 

“Yes, yes!” Arthur said. You gazed at him, seeing his grin widening on his face. You told him that you thought Mozart was starting to like MC, and he couldn’t resist such good timing for teasing. “I think you’re the only one who can help Wolfie right now.”

“Oh!” She took a step forward, her eyes filled with concern. “What can I do for you?”

Mozart didn’t say anything, just glared at Arthur and left the room, muttering something under his breath; you’d bet he was swearing in German. He didn’t even have time to grab coffee or something to eat before leaving, just some blanc.

MC followed the musician with her gaze until he was out of sight. Frowning, she looked back at you. “What happened? Did I do something?”

“No, you did nothing. Don’t worry.” You glanced at your boyfriend, a scowl on your face. “But you…”

“I didn’t know that would happen!” He raised his hands to try to defend himself. “But it was funny.”

“I’d sleep with an eye open tonight, just to make sure,” you sighed.

xxx

Mozart ran to his music room and slammed the door shut. He sat down on his piano bench to catch his breath; he wasn’t used to running. Yes, as soon as he was out of the kitchen, he ran. He didn’t know why, he just knew he had to get out of there. Usually, he was really good at ignoring Arthur or making a snarky comment back, but today his brain stopped functioning; the scoundrel really outdid himself. MC arriving didn’t help either; she looked so worried, his heart panged when he saw her face.

How was he supposed to look at her now? He knew he acted weird, and she wouldn’t let it slip. She was stubborn and usually did everything she could to make him talk to her. Wasn’t that how they started chatting anyway? He didn’t know if he should be grateful or not because this was the whole reason for his predicament now, but he really didn’t want to talk about what happened.

His mood soured when he realized he had no way out. He agreed to teach her how to play the song he composed for her. She’d probably look for him when she wasn’t so busy, and deep in his heart, he longed for the time he’d spend with her. On the other hand, he knew every lesson he taught her would be a countdown to the day she’d go away — the day she’d leave the mansion forever and never come back. He groaned aloud; his sour mood only worsened now.

Mozart looked down at the piano, attempting to keep himself busy, but he couldn’t concentrate. He wasn’t oblivious or dense. After spending the night thinking about it, he came to the logical conclusion that she was the shortest friendship he ever had because he was in love with her. And that’s when the problem really started. What should he do about it? Should he say something? Would she be mad at him if he told her about his feelings? Was there even a slight chance of her reciprocating? Would she stay if he asked? Did he have the right to ask that of her? He mistreated her half of her time in the mansion; would she even believe he was now in love with her?

He blamed your stupid advice; that was the reason he was going crazy. ‘Won’t hurt to just think’, his ass! He spent the whole night thinking about MC, without being able to reach a conclusion that made actual sense and wouldn’t hurt anyone. When he realized, the sun was rising while he was still staring at his ceiling in silence, his heart beating faster than ever before.

He didn’t realize he had missed lunch until his uncomfortable thoughts and lonely silence were broken by the worst person — again. Three knocks on the door and her sweet voice calling him.

“Mozart? Are you in there?”

He thought back to what Arthur said in the kitchen in the morning, how worried she looked, what you told him about his feelings… it all made his breath hitch in his throat. He heard her mumble something and realized he hadn’t responded yet. She was probably leaving, assuming he wasn’t there. Would she continue to look for him or just give up and go back to her chores?

“Come in,” he replied, his voice was hoarse, so he cleared his throat to try to make it better. He turned around to look at her, and as soon as she entered the room, her sweet, alluring scent hit his senses hard. He was so screwed.

“You didn’t show up for lunch,” she said with a smile that seemed to illuminate the whole room, and he thought he’d go blind. “So I brought you a plate and some blanc.” She set the tray on his coffee table, studying his face with a frown. “You look tired.”

“I stayed up all night.”

“Really? I didn’t hear your piano like I usually do.”

“I was in my bedroom, just couldn’t sleep,” he wearily answered.

“Mmm… If you need something, tell me,” she said, her voice filled with worry. “I’ll try to help in any way I can.”

“Yes, thank you,” he sighed.

“I mean it,” she said matter-of-factly, reassuring her support to him. He only nodded, and she smiled. “Great.”

He noticed how she stood in the middle of the room, looking at him and fidgeting with her fingers. “You want to ask about your lessons, right?” he inquired. She was too easy to read, and he found it delightful.

“Ah, well… yes. But I don’t wanna impose! You already spent the whole night awake, you should rest.”

“It’s fine. I’m free now,” he shrugged. If he was gonna suffer with her presence, it’d be better to just do it already. “What about you?”

“Ah, I need to help clean the kitchen, but then I’ll be free for a while!”

“Alright, I’ll be here then,” he tried to sound nonchalant as usual.

She left the room with a big smile and promised to be back quickly so as not to disturb his composing. If only she knew she was disturbing even when she wasn’t there — not that it was her fault anyway. With a deep sigh, Mozart got up and reached for the food and blanc she brought him, trying not to dwell on how the drink seemed to make no difference to his thirst.

xxx

Despite his heart telling him to scream from the balcony so the whole of Paris would hear that he liked MC, he didn’t do it. He kept quiet, even though it was proving to be hard to keep it to himself during their music lessons. And with each passing day, he felt like he was about to explode the whole mansion, because each day that passed brought him one day closer to her leaving.

“Wait, what was this note again?” she asked, pointing at the music sheet in front of them. Mozart had dragged another bench for her to sit beside him, to make it easier to teach her, of course.

“An E,” he replied patiently. “It’s this one here.” He played the key.

“Okay!” She tried playing again.

“Just remember, it changes when the clef changes.” She shot him a quizzical look, and he thought it was the most adorable expression he had ever seen on her face — at least at the moment; he believed she had many other ‘most adorable expressions’. He pointed to the music sheet. “Pay attention here. See? With the treble clef, it’s E. But with the bass clef, it’s G.”

“Ah, right…” She frowned and sighed. 

“Do you want to play with only your right hand for now? It’s easier.”

“No, I can do it!” She perked up and smiled again. She stared intently at the music sheet, and he heard her mumbling the notes to figure out where she should place her hands. “Here, right?”

“Right. But use this finger.” He gently guided her left hand, his touch lingering a second longer than necessary.

She hummed in agreement and started to play. She wasn’t the best music student, but he could tell she was really trying. Slowly pressing the keys, she took her time to think about which note to play and then executed it, prolonging all the durations. She was biting her lip in concentration, grimacing whenever her finger didn’t press the key with the necessary strength, and the sound was almost inaudible.

If any other person played the way she did, Mozart would find it hideous and make them stop. However, it was her. And as quickly as he figured out his feelings, he realized they ran deep, because, for him, she was playing something beautiful.

She was still in the first page and probably wouldn’t be able to finish learning the whole song before leaving, but he could tell that she was happy with just learning it at all. She had a huge smile when she turned to look at him, caught by surprise to find he was studying her face.

“A-ah… Erm… How was it?” She hesitated, the words seemed to fly away from her brain when she gazed into his eyes.

“Not the worst,” he replied.

He leaned over a little, enough to be closer than usual. Taking a deep breath, he frowned. It was already hard to sit beside her, but her scent was almost unbearably more intense this close. He twirled a lock of her hair around his index finger and brought it to his face, savoring her delicious scent as he kissed it without even realizing what he was doing.

“Um, Mozart?” she asked, her face blushing. 

“Are you wearing a new perfume?”

“No,” her voice was almost a whisper. “Why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” he replied dismissively.

She opened her mouth to say something but closed it again when she looked into his eyes, noticing how they stared right into her soul. Her breath hitched, and she saw his gaze waver; it lasted for a second or two, but she noticed — she paid him enough attention.

He continued to stare at her intensely. With his keen ear, he clearly heard the hitch in her breath, and he wondered if he could also hear her heartbeat.

Could he hear her blood pumping in her veins?

Could he feel it?

Unconsciously, he leaned closer, entranced by his own thoughts.

He stopped when he heard her release a low whimper. What was he doing? His eyes widened slightly; he had never felt this out of control before. Though he should back away, he found himself unable to move. She showed no sign of retreating either. He assumed she was too stunned to move, and he was right, though not for the reason he initially thought.

She was already nervous around Mozart, but it intensified now. She wasn’t clueless or stupid; she knew she liked him, even if they had gotten close just a week ago or so. She didn’t want to tell him anything — not now, at least — and risk ruining the friendship they had just started. However, how was she supposed to keep it together when he acted like... that? She swore he was about to kiss her or... bite her — maybe both. Goosebumps ran up her spine, and she took a deep breath, trying to calm down her heart. Keyword: try.

“I-I’m on dust duty after this,” she stuttered, her voice still low. He raised an inquisitive brow, not following where this topic was coming from. “I’ll help Sebas with dinner later and probably go downtown with YN to run some errands. Some residents asked us to buy stuff next time we were downtown…” She was rambling; he had never seen her so nervous. She was always a talkative person, but there was something endearing about how she was speaking so rapidly and randomly in that moment. She even slipped in some words in her mother language. “I noticed we’re running out of coffee while brewing some this morning, so I have to buy some coffee too… Do you also drink tea? I like tea more than coffee. If you’d like to try some, I can tell you about the ones more likely to suit your taste.”

He couldn’t say anything in response. What was he supposed to say anyway? She stopped talking abruptly, licking her lips and biting them to prevent herself from nervously ranting again. His eyes flicked down to follow the motion and then turned to hers, observing how they apprehensively looked at him. 

Mozart knew his feelings were still new, but if he didn’t do or say something now, when would he? She’d leave in a day and a half… He didn’t have time. On the other hand, it could turn out badly and ruin everything for good. From his point of view, he had two options to consider at the moment: 1. feign innocence and kiss her cheek as a way of expressing friendship, pretending this was his idea from the start; 2. pull away and risk not being able to share his feelings with her, likely also lying that he never tried anything.

However, a third option lingered, one that existed only in her mind for now.

Unable to bear the tension any longer, she was never one to think before acting — that’s how she got there in the first place. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes tightly and prayed for the best, closing the gap between them. It was nothing more than a brush of lips, and then she pulled away slightly, fluttering her eyes open.

“What was that for?” His voice came out as a husky whisper. His face was flushed, and his eyes were unreadable; she thought he might be mad at her.

A little panicky, she straightened her body, averting her gaze. MC nervously fidgeted with her fingers, her throat felt dry, and she believed she had lost her voice. She thought about running away, lock herself in her bedroom, and cry until the door opened again, so she could throw herself straight to the 21st century even if this wasn’t what she wanted. Yes, she was thinking about staying, but if he got angry and she ended up ruining everything, her anxious mind thought it’d be better to just go back to her time in shame — not her home, because she felt at home in the mansion now.

“I-I-I…” She attempted to say something, but her voice caught in her throat, and her lips quivered. A soft sniffle escaped her, and she felt her cheeks getting wet. She wasn’t sure if her legs would be able to keep her steady enough to stand up and run now.

“Why are you crying?” His eyes widened momentarily. Internally, he was panicking and screaming, but he had to maintain a calm expression to avoid startling her further. Gently, he reached for her face, turning her to look at him while wiping away her tears.

MC tried to formulate something, but a sob was the only thing that came out. Feeling vulnerable, stupid, and confused, she found herself surprised by the gentle touch, especially after he had sounded annoyed when asking about the kiss.

Mozart couldn’t stand to see her crying, especially because he didn’t even understand why she was crying in the first place. He pulled her against his chest, embracing her reassuringly. “Don’t cry.” He threaded his fingers through her hair to help calm her down. “Stop crying already.” His words were stern, but his voice remained soft, gentle, and filled with concern. His calm façade was crumbling down.

It took her a few minutes to calm down, and Mozart held her in tightly the whole time. Finally, she let out a shuddered, relieved breath, and he tried to keep her in his arms, but she pulled away. Nervously, she glanced around the music room, as if searching for the right words. He didn’t press; he simply waited, gazing into her puffy eyes and her red, tear-stained face.

“I’m sorry,” she softly murmured. He considered saying something, but realized she probably had more to express; she was only struggling to find the right words. “I didn’t mean to impose and make you upset. It was stupid, and I apologize for… you know.”

“I’m not,” he replied, frowning. 

She looked at him as if she had discovered some brand new information. “You’re not?”

“No.” He raised an eyebrow. Was she bad at reading people or was he bad at showing his feelings? Perhaps a little bit of both.

“Annoyed then?” She frowned, trying to understand. “In any case, I apologize-”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he interrupted. “But you indeed made a mistake.” Her eyes wavered for only a second.

Mozart leaned in closer again, but this time he didn’t stop to think; he just closed the gap between them. Keeping his eyes open to gauge her reaction, he noticed how she widened her eyes before closing them, and only then did he close his too. Sliding his hand behind her neck, he kept her close to deepen the kiss, feeling her shudder a breath and grab him by his lapel.

It was good, it was like being complete, and it was about to make Mozart be driven by bloodlust. He broke the kiss to gaze into MC’s eyes. She pulled back, and she was about to take her hands away from him, but he held them in place.

“Can you see your mistake now?” he asked, chuckling at her puzzled gaze.

She frowned while playing with his lapel. “But can you blame me?” she said, her voice still stammering a bit. “You send me mixed signals, I’m not sure how to feel, how you feel.”

Oh, he knew what the problem was. He was just too stubborn and shy to admit it out loud. Pulling her into a hug, he hid his flushing face from her while he contemplated how to confess. “I’ll try to make it clear from now on, so you better not cry about it again because I’ll keep you close for a good time.”

“Is this your way of telling me you like me?” She giggled, shaking his body with hers. “See, you need to practice the delivery; it’s still confusing. You talk like you’re scolding me.” She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him back with a squeeze.

“I know.” He smiled and kissed the top of her head.

They stayed there, enjoying the peace and quiet for a few minutes, until she looked up at him, placing her chin on his chest. “It’s really nice here, but I need to go.”

His arms instinctively tightened around her body. “No. I won’t let you go, I can’t.”

“But-”

“No buts. I’m being selfish, and I don’t care.” He gently cradled her face in his hands, treating her like the most precious and delicate thing in the whole world. “You’re staying, you hear me? I might not deserve you after mistreating you for a good time, but you can’t leave! You’re not allowed to leave me!”

Breathing heavily, as if he had just completed a marathon, Mozart continued to gaze into her eyes. His own eyes attempted to convey his feelings. She blinked a few times, tilting her head to the side and leaning into the palm of his hand. It was an action that would’ve made him swoon if not for the extremely confused expression on her face. Didn’t she feel the same? But they just kissed… Didn’t she want to stay?

“What are you saying?” she inquired.

“Exactly what you heard.”

Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, she tried to understand. A playful smile spread across her face in the next second. “Well, well, it looks like I’m not the only one making mistakes today, Mozart.”

He frowned and lightly pinched her cheeks. “Why are you laughing?”

“I was talking about needing to go help Sebastian with dinner.”

“... What?”

“I should ask you: what?” She chuckled. “Did you think I was talking about going to the future? Because I’m not going back; I’ll stay here in the mansion. I already talked to Comte.”

He blinked slowly, processing her question. “You’re not going back home?”

“Mmm, I’m already home.” She flashed him a loving smile, and his heart skipped a beat. “I made up my mind last week. I like it here better than in the future.”

“But you said you wanted to learn the music to play when you went home…”

“Ah, yes… Well, I wasn’t exactly lying; I was still indecisive then. However, I also used it as an excuse to spend more time with you and see if I could do something about my feelings.”

“Honestly…” Mozart sighed and frowned, but she could see him suppressing a smile. “What am I gonna do with you? You better take responsibility for deceiving me.”

He leaned down to kiss her once more, and she laughed. It was so typical of him; she was already getting the hang of reading into his words and actions, but she knew she’d get even better.

They’d have plenty of time, after all.

xxx

Little bonus scene:

Comte was throwing another party to celebrate another guest deciding to permanently live there with them — and he was going all out again.

You were sitting on the couch, a glass of wine in one hand, your boyfriend’s arm over your shoulder, and happiness bubbling inside you. It all felt familiar, as if this entire scene had happened before. And it really had, but things had changed a lot since last time.

This time, you didn’t have to drag your brother or pull the young sibling charm to convince him to play; he was there by his own accord, sitting by the piano with his girlfriend and smiling. You saw Shakespeare passing by, staring at Mozart’s smile, probably thinking someone had already given him alcohol. You knew he hadn’t drunk anything; as cheesy and sappy as it sounded, he was drunk on love.

Arthur was nuzzling his nose against your face and kissing you like another love-drunk vampire when you heard MC’s voice ringing in front of you.

“Hey, guys!” She sat by your other side, smiling. 

Mozart wasn’t with her, but he arrived a few seconds later, with a plate of appetizers and a drink in his hands. He frowned looking at you three and turned to MC, going to sit on her other side. He could sit between you and her, but despite not liking to share her attention, he knew she liked talking to you — and you to her. He gave her the food and drink, and she beamed at him, kissing his cheek.

You and Arthur couldn’t help but notice that Mozart didn’t take a second look in your direction, not even saying anything about how close you were or anything. To his credit, he had been better ever since he and MC got together; his possessive and petty behavior was now fully focused on his girlfriend — who thankfully knew very well how to handle it. They were really a good couple, and you were happy that you had the whole idea of setting them up.

“Told you he needed to get laid to relax,” Arthur said with a mischievous grin.

MC and Mozart whipped their heads to you and Arthur, widening their eyes, while you sighed loudly.

“You really need to stop saying these things out loud…”

Aaaand it’s over! Thank you for your patience waiting for this last update! 🤍

Masterlists

[lailawinchesterr]

part nine, in a good way [jensen ackles]

series masterlist | main masterlist

nine,

C'mon I know this. Explain S phase. I know this. DNA replication. I know what he's talking about but all I can think of is yesterday. All I can think of is Jensen driving me home, kissing me, texting me after.

Getting me lunch, clothes, paying for our drinks... everything he did yesterday. I'm wearing his jacket even today because God that cologne can kill.

But that's not the point. The point is... S phase? What's S phase? Right, DNA replication. So... hydrogen bonds break then... 

But his hand on my neck yesterday, pulling me closer while we kissed. My first kiss ever. With Jensen Ross Ackles. Then him saying he wants to do it again later. What's later? He said Sunday but it's his busiest filming day, maybe it's for drinks again? I wouldn't mind, but I'd rather we go eat.

"Pens down!" My eyes widen and I place my blue ink pen down into the table, hearing it clatter and my whole future crashes with it. I haven't finished quarter of this paper. I thought the exam was two hours?

"Laila," the TA ‘tsks’, Connor, as he looks down at my paper, "you didn't finish this question. It's easy, you should know it."

"I do, just don't have time." He looks around, seeing most of the students getting up and handing their paper to the professor at the end of the class. He motions to me to quickly write it down and I don't think I've ever written so fast in my life.

I manage to finish the six mark question just in time for him to take my paper and hand it to the professor without much suspicion. I pack up and while I'm walking out he winks at me. 

Choosing to ignore the shit exam, I call Gen so we could go out for anything really. Usually set would be my go-to but since yesterday with Jensen there's something holding me back from casually walking into set, maybe afraid that our dynamic would change. I haven't been there since we talked.

I change my mind half-way through writing the message to Gen. I don’t want to let what we did yesterday affect me this much. He's probably working normally, focusing on his fucking job, so why can't I focus on my future? This is so stupid, I don't do this. I don't let romantic feelings get in between me and my grades. Not since I failed a whole year because of a boy back in middle school, not happening again, ever.

I decide to do what I usually do on Fridays, study on set with Jared. I won't change my routine.

+

"Hey, Lils." Rachel calls out and immediately she hugs me. "We haven't seen you in forever."

"Two days, Rach." I let out a laugh as we let each other go.

"Two days too many. C'mon, we're getting lunch. Or they're making lunch— either way!" We walk over to crafts where lots of tables are set and most of the cast is sitting in groups. She drags me over to the table with Gen, Jared, Misha and Alex.

"Hey, guys." And for the first time in the history of ever, my seat is between Jensen and Rachel. And I actually sit in it. "How's filming?"

Misha smiles at me— that's the most noticeable response to my action, anyways— but everyone else just answers my question then keep talking about scenes and plans for the weekend. 

Then, "Lils, how was your exam?" Gen's question makes me freeze for many reasons. One, it reminds everyone how much younger I am than them, something I like not bringing up as much as physically possible. Second, it puts me under the spotlight and I can not lie for the life of me.

So I hum and nod, hoping that's an acceptable answer for the whole table (who probably don’t care that much anyways). And thankfully they shrug it off and keep talking. 

Two seconds into random conversation Jensen scoots his chair closer to mine, whispering into my hair, "How'd you do today?"   

Smiling, I face him to look as honest as I can, "It was fine. Just didn't have enough time to finish it." He seems genuinely concerned as he puts a hand on the back of my chair. 

"Yeah? You think you'll do well? 'Sides, you said this is a mock, when's the final?" I'm not actually sure when I said it was a mock but the fact that he remembers is giving me butterflies in places that shouldn’t have so much feelings in them. My heartbrainlungs.

"Hopefully I'll pass. But yeah, just a mock. Final's in two weeks." I keep my voice low so as to not disturb the rest of the group, but Gen is already giving me a look and I can feel Rachel's eyes burning into my side. 

"Laila, you sure you're on for Sunday?" Damn, this again? "And don't go defensive on me—" 

"I know, Jensen. I'm not. Yeah, Sunday's good," and for extra measures, "and today had nothing to do with our date yesterday."

"Date, huh?" The corner of his lips pull upwards as he leans back in his chair and I roll my eyes. I go to shove his shoulder, like I would with Jared or maybe even Misha, but quickly decide against it and look down at my bag instead with a small laugh. 

Now that grabs the entire table's attention. Before I can explain anything— thank the Lord— a PA runs up to us, calling on Jared, Jensen, Misha and Alex. 

The four men leave and that allows my two girls to huddle up next to me, screaming for an explanation. God, this feels like high school all over again.

"Nothing, we're just friends now. Who went on one date," I flinch back a little before adding, "and have another one planned for Sunday." They both explode into a fit of giggles and now I really feel like it's high school.

"You're joking! You have a date with Jensen, again?" Rach's question is both due to curiosity and... concern?

"Yeah. So what?"

"So... Lils, we talked about this. You told me I'm right." She says exasperatedly, and I can see it in her eyes that she's as concerned as an older sister would be, but still.

"Yeah, so what—"

Gen clears her throat. "Right about what?"

"Jensen's older than me."

"Well, no shit."

"See?" Rach points at the brunette, "Genny agrees."

"That what? That they're a bad idea? No way! Jensen and Laila could be good for each other, the age thing is just a little bump in the road. They need to talk about it ‘s all." I have to hold in a laugh at how ridiculous her suggestion is. Me? And Jensen? Communicating? Why? Have I lost my head?

"Guys, we don't even know if me and him are, like, getting serious, it's just a tiny date." Of course, I'm only saying what I think Jensen wants. I've never been on a date, never had a boyfriend, never kissed or had my first time. Jensen is my first everything if he decides he wants me for the long haul— but he's had all that. And more. He has kids. 

I can't think about this. If I do, I'll drop everything and block Jensen's number and maybe even overreact by killing myself. 

Great. Sunday is going to be great.

part ten

i want to change the oc to x reader when I’m done with the whole thing, what do you guys think? tags: @kr804573 @n-o-p-e-never

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

The Gym Membership - Part 20 (Crosshair)

Summary: Layla and Crosshair have a decision to make

A/N: Hello Lovelies,

You are all amazing and beautiful. I just wanted to tell you that in case no one has. I'm so excited, I'll be on vacation as of this Friday afternoon, and I can't wait! I need a break from work. It'll give me time to work on some writing projects. I'm really trying to catch up guys, I'm so sorry some of the other stories are being delayed, but I am working on them.

Love oo.

Warnings: Discussions of seizure, ventilators, body changes, grief, frustration, annoyance, irritations, revelations, medical drugs. I think that's it. If I miss any warnings, please let me know.

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My eyes focused on Crosshair’s concerned face, and for the first time ever, I felt ashamed to have been irritated simply because of his presence. I glanced away, taking in a deep breath, I could feel my heart beating faster, as my blood ran cold. I couldn’t help thinking, if this was how he felt, whenever he had to be the one giving me bad news.

 “Um …” I clenched my hand against the book on my lap, trying to steady my nerves, “Doctor …” I cleared my throat, “Doctor Williams came by earlier today. She … uh, Avery … she had … she had a seizure. It was pretty bad, Crosshair. Doctor Williams seems to think the longer she’s on the ventilator the more she’ll begin to deteriorate.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, “We knew that would happen, they literally went over possible side effects when they put her on the ventilator.” Crosshair gritted his teeth, Layla’s inability to let go was making this harder than it needed to be for all of them, “Layla, it’s almost been a year, since she’s been on it. What did you think was going to happen?” As soon as the words flew out of his mouth, he regretted it. He knew better, he knew how hard this whole situation had been for Layla. Him griping about it, wasn’t going to help the situation, he ran his hands through his buzz cut, doing his best to ignore his own frustrations.

“I know.” I rubbed my forehead, hoping the pressure there would ease off, along with the irritation knowing Crosshair was right when he was against putting her on the ventilator to begin with. “Anyway, Doctor Williams says … um … we need to make a decision, the seizures are becoming frequent and more intense. He said they needed to increase her dosage once again, which is going to start affecting her heart. He also believes the last seizure worsened her brain injury.”

Crosshair threw his back against the chair, the weight of the world seemed to be crashing on him. He ran his hands over his face, and back over his hair, he pulled himself forward until he rested his elbows on his knees. He kept his face hidden in between his arms, not wanting Layla to see how much of a toll this had actually taken on him. He let out a saddened sigh, he knew this day was going to come, but somehow he didn’t imagine it would’ve been so soon or even on the heels of losing Kamarie. “You know where I stand on this. Where I’ve always stood” he answered his voice a little exasperated.

“Oh, I know” my voice was curt and annoyed, it wasn’t so much because of his unmoving attitude, it was because of how fast he came to that decision, “I’ve known where you stood from the moment she was admitted.”

“Oh god, here we go” Cross stood, walking over to Avery’s other side, wanting to ignore Layla’s attitude, and her constant badgering. She always resented the fact he was ready to let Avery go, and somehow she had misunderstood that to mean he didn’t love Avery, when in fact it was the opposite. 

“Yes, here we go” I stood from my seat, tossing my book down, “Every time I try to have a discussion about Avery, you always do this.”

Cross gripped the side rail as his eyes focused on Avery, “I always do ‘what’? You asked me what I thought, I told you, you know where I stand. I never wanted her to be on the ventilator. Avery always said this kind of life was torture for her, she wanted to be set free before having to be hooked up to all these …” he motioned to the wires, tubes, and monitors.

“Life-saving equipment”

Crosshair turned and looked at Layla,  “Life saving for who? Cause from what I’m seeing, she’s suffering, and seeing her like this breaks my heart Layla.” He turned his attention back to Avery, his hand reached down, gently squeezing the frail hand that had become so foreign to the one he had learned to love. It no longer contained the same strength or warmth it had once, the memories he contained of those hands running through his hair, caressing his cheek, massaging his back, that’s all they’ll ever be now. Memories of a time long gone. 

“She doesn’t look like herself” he continued, trying to explain why he was adamant about his decision, “I mean look at her cheeks, they’re all sunken in. Her skin doesn’t have that glow it used to have, not to mention she’s lost so much weight,” his other hand gently stroked her cheek remembering how plump they used to be. 

I couldn’t believe my eyes and what I was seeing. Tears welled up, as I saw how tender Crosshair was being with her. It shocked me to my very core, especially, when truthfully I never realized … no, I never wanted to recognize how much he really loved her. Then again the only time I saw them together, was in a picture Avery had sent me. She did mention over and over again, how sweet he was, how kind he was, how stubborn and pigheaded he could be at the same time. I dismissed him out of hand, simply because I needed someone to blame, and he was the perfect target. My eyes focused back on Avery, as tears welled up in my eyes, I’d been keeping her on the ventilator, unwilling to let her go, regardless of what it was doing to her. As he pointed out how different she looked, it felt as though a cloud had been lifted from my eyes, I had simply thought of my pain, not his. 

Silence filled the room as Cross focused on Avery and Layla kept her focus on Cross.

“You really love her, don’t you?”

Cross rested his hand on top of Avery’s head, his thumb rubbing her forehead, “I did. I do.”

“Did?”

Crosshair let out a sigh, “I do love her. I’ll always love her, she was my best friend for years. Understood me better than most.”

“How did you guys meet?”

Cross looked at Layla, “She didn’t tell you?”

I shrugged my shoulders, as I retook my seat, “I want to hear it from you” he simply nodded as he focused his attention back on Avery.

“All right …”

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[chickadeeee]

guy im seeing was hurt (by me explaining how his actions hurt me, but whatever, im not even focusing on questioning that, he was hurt) but his response was to lash out, say a lot of unkind things over the phone including demanding that I answer “can you honestly give me one good reason I shouldn’t walk away” and then saying he wanted to reduce contact (turns out actually completely cease) for over a week.

obviously this feels like shit and him being hurt is truly a problem and I don’t want that to happen but the response can’t be berating me over the phone, certainly not at his big age (he just turned 50). he had just given me all this affirmation about being partners meaning when something goes wrong we work together and meet halfway, because we care about each other. this wasn’t that. this was him lashing out emotionally and trying to hurt me. you can’t tell me there was a constructive purpose to that question.

and the worst part of all of this is that if I tell him hey this can’t be the model for conflict resolution, this doesn’t work, he’ll probably accuse me of making it all about me (again). I know I have room to grow as a romantic partner and I want to do better but I can’t do better if I just get yelled at. where’s all that energy about talking it through and working together.

not to mention he lives 30min away but this whole weekend he was volunteering at a festival literally a couple blocks away from me and in order to give him space I couldn’t. go to the festival. go down the main road to get to the grocery store because it would go by him. and of course we do impact play and I’ve got fresh massive deep bruises on both ass cheeks so every time I sit down, catch a glimpse of my bare ass (shower, change clothes), etc I’m reminded of him. I don’t get to take space.

and I get needing space but cutting off contact completely for over a week feels like I’m being punished for talking about my feelings more than anything else.

anyways this is an awful lot of whining about myself when the root is my actions hurting him because I failed to consider how a conversation would come off, that is valid, but I maintain that his response is totally unfair. he accused me of being ‘very manipulative’ but I can’t say he wasn’t also being manipulative. and I don’t see how the relationship continues. how will I ever feel safe bringing my concerns to him again, even if in the moment he is encouraging me, because despite that he could lash out and throw it all in my face the next morning with no warning.

worst part though is I want to continue seeing him anyways. I fell hard, fast, and there was so much I was looking forward to. I’m still hurt and angry that he reacted this way and it’s raising all the red flags but I’m also sad and confused and missing him.

but also, we’re supposed to get coffee *next Tuesday. how’s that gonna work? I have to go into the office most likely and I have gym right after work. I’m not really available… but of course I’ll make myself available for him because I have no spine. and I don’t want to put this off. but like how is the conversation gonna go down? I highly doubt he will lead with apologizing for how he reacted (I don’t know if he will feel that he did anything wrong), it will probably be “this is what I need from you for this to continue” with something restrictive. and I honestly think we should slow down and back off but hearing him say it like an ultimatum or a unilateral decision that I have to accept is going to hurt. assuming he even wants it to continue. all the power is in his hands. after all, he was the one who demanded that I justify our relationship.

I just haven’t felt so small in a long time. because he was trying to make me feel small. I don’t care if he thought I had hurt him on purpose, the reaction can’t be ‘so I get to hurt you back.’ I know I should stand up for myself and say you can’t treat me this way, I’m out. but I don’t want to. I know I’ll give him another chance. I hate that for myself.

anyways. sorry yall and thanks anyone who read all this. I’ve just been driving myself crazy trying not to check when he was last active on insta or looking to make sure he hasn’t texted (of course he hasn’t). I haven’t packed for my trip home tomorrow. I’ve been a messy ball of trying and failing to distract myself. I gotta go pack now.

[tinyinvadr]

I recently started playing Psychonauts and I’m very obsessed with it right now, and it has a g/t level, so naturally, I had to write this short little thing!

Also! I’m still playing through the first game, so this might not be super accurate, I just had to write this down while it was still fresh in my mind. And I’d appreciate it if no one spoils anything that happens after Gloria’s level since that’s where I’m at right now.

See You on the Other Side

It hadn’t even been twenty minutes and the entire town already hated me.

I guess I couldn’t really blame them. Most of the lungfish had been brainwashed, and it didn’t help that I looked like a big scary monster to them. And the fact that I accidentally smashed that orphanage.

Mainly, I had to rely on my shield power to block out the constant attacks. Unfortunately, that wasn’t enough to stop all the radio broadcasts about how horrible I am.

It seemed like the only solution was for me to face this “Kochamara” head-on. Couldn’t exactly rely on the resistance when their best idea was passing out flyers. Lili, and all the other campers, were counting on me to save them as soon as possible.

So, I used the blimp to boost myself over the dam, and from there, all I had to do was make it to the radio tower. But just as I was walking through the city, I heard something that was almost completely drowned out by the screams of terror and rage from the lungfish.

“Raz!?”

I immediately stopped in my tracks. There was only one person it could be.

Sure enough, when I looked to my left, there was Lili in the window of one of the buildings, conveniently right at my eye level.

Even though I knew the lungfish couldn’t have actually eaten her since Oleander needed her alive to get her brain, it was a major relief to see that she was okay.

“Lili! You’re alive! And… here? How are you here?”

“That overgrown fish monster pulled me into its mind to keep me from escaping. More importantly… why are you a giant?”

All I could do was shrug before I had to put my shield up to deflect another attack.

“Look, all that matters right now is that you’re okay, and now we can get out of here and stop Oleander!”

She glared at me, folding her arms across her chest.

“Um, shouldn’t we resolve this first? You know, you’re not gonna make a very good Psychonaut if you leave someone’s mind a mess like this.”

I let out a nervous chuckle as I looked around at the chaos surrounding us.

“Yeah… you’re right.”

Ugh, stop being cute, Raz. You’re making it hard to stay mad at you.

“Uh… cute?”

“WOULD YOU STOP LISTENING TO MY THOUGHTS??”

I couldn’t really hear much of Lili’s inner dialogue after that, anyway. The sound of the fighter jets circling overhead was my main concern.

Up until that point, I thought it was a good thing that the Lungfishopolis military was highly incompetent. Sure, it was easy to avoid their bullets and bombs, but that also meant the destruction of their own city. And as a result… that put Lili in harm’s way.

It was as if time itself slowed as a bomb dropped from one of the planes. Even if I put my shield up, it would’ve completely demolished the building with Lili inside. Well… her astral projection at least. But if she lost her connection to the mental world, I’d have no way of knowing she was still safe.

Thinking fast, I punched open the window, grabbed her, and held her close as I put my shield back up.

I took cover for as long as I could, then made a run for it to get out of range from the planes. As soon as I was sure the coast was clear, I opened my hands and pulled Lili away from my chest.

“I-I’m sorry, I had to get you out of there. Are you alright?”

To my surprise, she was actually smiling for once.

“You saved me…”

Then, realizing what she just said, she quickly snapped out of it.

“I mean… we’d better get going! That radio tower’s not gonna destroy itself!”

I put her on my shoulder and carefully made my way back to the skyscrapers. The planes for the most part already ended up blowing each other up, but there was one left that just wouldn’t quit. I climbed all the way up the nearest building, and took out the last plane with a PSI-Blast.

“How’d you get so good at that?” Lili asked.

“I kind of sped through Sasha’s training. He was mad about it, but I dunno, I think he’s secretly proud of me.”

She chuckled. “You’re an idiot.”

With all the planes out of commission, I climbed back down and met up with the resistance. They were still mostly unhelpful, but they at least lined up their boats so we could make it across the river.

With the tower in sight, I readied myself to take it down and free the city. But then, Lili yelled out in pain. I let her back onto my hand so I could see what was happening, and I saw that she was fading.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“I think someone’s trying to pull me out.”

I wanted to believe that it was Sasha or Agent Vodello trying to rescue her, but I had no way of knowing where she was about to end up. And it was likely in that creepy doctor’s office, about to have her brain stolen.

“Is there any way to fight it? I-I don’t wanna get separated again.”

She let out a sigh as she faded further.

“I don’t know… but I’ll be okay. I’m a pretty good psychic myself. Besides… you only just got here and you’ve already learned so much. If there’s anyone who can put a stop to this nightmare… it’s you, Goggalor.”

Yep, she was waiting this entire time to call me that.

“Very funny. I’ll find you as soon as I can, okay?”

Just before she fully faded, she gave a little nod, a content smile on her face. She really had a lot of faith in me, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about it. It was a lot of pressure, but at the same time, I felt like I could do it. Like I could be her hero.

“I’ll see you on the other side, Lili.”

She was already gone at that point, but if she was there, she probably would’ve liked to hear that, anyway.

I didn’t have time to stand around and reflect on that, though. The lungfish had just called in Kochamara, which meant I would have to fight him before I could get to the tower. But as absurd as things get as I travel across the mental plane, I’ll never let myself forget who I’m fighting for.

[mastcrmarksman]

[ Outgoing Message : Hank Pym | Will you please come by my lab? Im in a very good mood. ] [ Incoming Message : Clint | I will ]

Hank smiled at the message. Clint was always a bit of a jokester with messages, but then again that wasn't a bad thing! Hank had found he had a fondness for his light persona, even if he knew it wasn't always reflective of the thoughts behind his wonderful eyes.

He knew Clint would either take his time or rush, no in-between with him, so he opted to just- Wait by some of his terrariums. Were the ants as happy as he was? They almost looked like it! Happily skittering around on his main table with no clear direction. Normally thatd be concerning, but this wasn't the mindless wanderings of lost ants soon to spiral, they were a lot like him in a way.. Loose their way and they'd walk in a circle until they wore themselves to death. Hank almost met that fate, if it wasn't for the help of the man now making his way through the door and right into his embrace.

There wasn't a pause for hello's nor even a break from the hug as he locked their lips, kissing the wonderful man who'd filled his life with so much chaotic, endless, wonderful chaos since he found him that painful night.

His face was warm- a lot warmer then usual. That's okay! He had some water he could give him if he needed it, right now though he just wanted to kiss him until his lungs ran out of oxygen to give! It was the least he could do.

Once said and done, he reached up and gently scratched the side of Clints head, trailing his hand down to his chin with a warm summer smile on his lips.

" That was it! Thank you~! "

So far as today's present date, he has had exactly three good ideas. All of which were going relatively well. This was huge since over the past decade (had it really been a decade; jesus he was getting old) he has been known for his bad ideas, bad calls, and other lesser things he really tried to avoid scrutinizing. His three good ideas to date Going sober and apologizing to everyone (this one sucked), helping a former original avenger come back from being dead (always nice to reclaim one of this own), and dating said original avenger (was not on his bingo card).

That last good idea of his was arguably still in the jury phase. Who knows if this was actually a good idea? Clint's a notorious figure in the Avengers dating pool. He's kissed, dated, had a crush on, hit on, got rejected by, and have an explosive break with more friends that he had fingers and toes. It's a problem. He's a problem. So letting an old mentally broken avenger in a new body with a new lease on life room with him while Clint was on his seventeenth chance and lease of life was recipe for feelings to get involved.

Dating Hank Pym was arguably going to be a bad idea if anyone wanted to get out the history books and point at all his past relationships. The whirlwinds with Natasha, the divorce with Bobbi, the colossal fuck up that hurt Jess.... Bringing a dying seventeen year old to your doctor girlfriend's apartment and he dies there, after she had already split with you since she lied to Captain America for you. Ouch. So catching feelings for his roommate trying to redeem himself after his own shitshow life.... Recipe for something.

Hopefully not disaster.

Hank's a learning curve for the archer. Where as Clint was always been very fast and physical first, the other man was the total opposite. It's honestly a steep curve, but he was nothing if not persistent and old dogs can learn new tricks. Hank texting that he was in a good mood was a good thing as it should be. The invitation to lab will bode well for Clint because in the same vein that they were opposites; the man showing any desire to see Clint (although they did live together) was not an opportunity he'd miss.

The chances that Hank wanted to talk about whatever his mind was zeroed on that if Clint were truthful about; it went in one hearing aid and out the next. However, being a good boy like he was, he could go to sit pretty and listen. Still meant Hank wanted him, and Clint was a glutton for any kind of attention especially the object of his affection and desire.

Coming through the door, which he may have rushed over, what Clint was met with was not a barrage of words or come look at this. That's what he expects from his bug scientist. Except today, of all days, he gets very lucky with the sudden affection. The hug was more normal for them, but before a clever quip about all this can his leave his lips; Hank has taken all of his air.

Clint pants against Hank's lips, hot and the rush over was more than worth it. His arms have gone around the lower half of the other's mid section and his fingers dig into his coat. This was so incredibly nice and Clint suddenly feels starved for more once Hank does pull for air and doesn't let his lips chase. His blue eyes look along the lines of his lips, the smile that's there is warm and that's why Clint can explain why Hank. His head lulls into Hank's hand, the gaze in his own eyes must be docile, hanging onto to whatever Hank had wanted him for. Since the scientist now fully had his attention.

That was it! Thank you!

The shock on Clint's face apparent before his lips crack into a smile and his grip on Hank's coat tighten. ❝ We should do that again. ❞ Anything for an encore. ❝ You know, just because I don't think I was paying attention. ❞ That's a total lie. Hank very much had him around his finger.

[thaipolar]

Sonic project x save file

A floor plan is just a fraction of the total picture! Just because you put lines on a page doesn't mean it can be built. The real advantage is working collaboratively (file reference sharing) and making modifications once everything already exists.īut the better reason for not drawing with some software package is that they don't design. Even as a professional, drawing with CAD is about the same speed as by hand. Unless you're a professional, you can't possibly draw contract document quality drawings with software at the same speed that you could with a pen and a good parallel bar. There's two reasons not to use software to represent your designs. So, my (probably biased) vote goes to ViewBuild.ĭisclaimer: I'm an intern architect currently taking my architectural registration exams. We used OpenGL, and made things really fast. We had a whole group of people wandering around editing the same building. It has a few geek-cool features as well, though I don't know what made it into the final package. It's more like a drawing package where you're more concerned about how it looks than if two sections are lined up at 60 degrees and are 6.225 feet long. The difference is that it isn't focused on accuracy. It's a lot faster than traditional CAD packages. Some of the stuff people have been building in it is just incredible. The main focus of ViewBuild is getting a design up as quickly as possible, and be walking around it and editing it as fast as your machine can push it. Since this is Slashdot, many of you may be keen to know that it uses Python as a scripting language. Since it's very plug-in friendly (everything down to the "Quit" menu option is a plugin - though they're packaged away), I'm sure the guys are working on it. That said, ViewBuild is an ass-kicking piece of software for whipping up designs fast. Well first thing I should say is that I used to work for ViewBuild. You'd be surprised at the amount of "space" in a house that is consumed by walls. The reason why center to center is so important, BTW, can best be illustrated by measuring each room in a house and then comparing those figures to exterior dimensions. Since two walls are involved in each measurement, add two half-thicknesses to your measurements. The dimensions you provide the software should be from center of wall to center of wall. Typical framing material = nominal 2x4 studs (actually 1 3/4"x3 1/2" finished) It is most likely that the software is using that figure for nominal wall thickness. But, if you want to compensate, add 4.5" to each measurement you make that is from wall to wall. If you've done any architectural drafting, this should make total sense. In other words, the software was taking your dimensions and assuming that they were from center of wall to center of wall. Sounds like you were getting centerline dimensions for the walls. But when I did that, I found I was coming up a few inches short, even though I knew certain things would fit.

[xiaosmoon]

hi!! I'm OBSESSED with the way you write, so if you could indulge me a little? :D diluc + kaeya + zhongli with an s/o who has to seduce an enemy to get important info—though they try their best to stay put, worry/jealousy gets the best of them, and they arrive at the scene just in the nick of time...

hopefully this doesn't overstep any of your blog rules :< tysm!!

seducing an enemy

parings: diluc, kaeya, & zhongli x gn!reader (afab for zhongli)

summary: you get sent on an important mission to try to get information out of an enemy by seducing them, but worry/jealousy gets the best of them and they arrive just in time

warnings/content: seduction, angsty but with comfort, suggestive if you squint

a/n: ahhh thank you so much!!! i hope this did your request justice :)

-> diluc

you really shouldn't be running this late. diluc was pacing back and fourth in main room of the winery. the maids tried to get him to calm down, but he just couldn't sit still. not when you were out on a mission at the risk of being hurt.

and on top of that, seducing someone. just the mere thought of it was enough to send diluc into a frenzy. of course he trusts you. he really does, but you were doing this to a dangerous enemy. the risk of it all was just too much not to stress over.

"i'm going out for a walk. please, do not wait up for me." was all diluc announced to his maids before grabbing his coat and running off.

it was a very cold night, and diluc suddenly remembers that pretty little lace you were wearing.

"it's all apart of the technique, diluc. i can't seduce a person if i'm covering every inch of my body."

obviously you were right, but diluc still wishes you weren't cozying up to a scumbag wearing little to nothing.

diluc hadn't realized how fast he had been walking because he was already at the destination. with claymore in hand, he wasted no time busting open the door. he found you with a knife to your neck, trying to pry the man off of you. your vision was tossed to the side, so you were utterly helpless.

all diluc could see was burning red. he didn't even get a good look at the guy holding you; he let his body do the talking and swung his claymore, not actually hitting the guy but causing him to lose balance and drop the knife.

while diluc was keeping him away, you drop down grabbing the fallen knife and stab the enemy's leg. before diluc could chop the guy in half with his fired up claymore, you quickly push him back with the rest of the strength you could muster.

"diluc, he's down! it's alright now!" diluc was breathing heavily, his eyes fixated on the person screaming in pain. once he feels your body hugging his, his demeanor quickly changes.

diluc drops his claymore and returns your embrace back, kissing the top of your head. "are you alright? are you hurt?" he pulls you off of him, holding your shoulders to examine your body for any injuries.

you put your hand on top of one of his and give him a soft smile. "i'm okay, i promise." you turn around to look at the man behind you on the floor. "he, however, isn't. i'll have to bring him to the knights for further interrogation."

you go and grab your vision before cuffing the man's hands. "y-you're crazy! i'm going to die because of you!" he nearly spat in your face.

diluc was quick to act, grabbing him by the collar and yanking the guy dangerously close to him. "call them crazy again and that claymore you saw earlier will  definitely kill you." if diluc's claymore won't kill him, the fight he felt definitely would.

after diluc accompanied you to take him to the knights, (he wouldn't stop talking about how incapable they were on the walk there. "this never would've happened to you if they knew how to do their job." some things will never change.) he sat you down on a nearby bench and once again examined you thoroughly, even though you told him you were fine for the nth time.

he carefully draped his coat over your shoulders. "i'm just so glad you're alright. good thing i came when i did." he would say. for the rest of the night, he held you tight and gave you many, many kisses while telling you that you're never doing something like that again. not because he was jealous or anything, of course not

-> kaeya

kaeya knows you're an amazing and capable knight. you have amazing combat skills and are perfect at undercover missions. perfect person for the job.

so why was he so stressed?

imagining you throwing yourself all over that enemy in the short and tight dress you were wearing was eating at his mind. you had looked absolutely tempting in that getup that kaeya couldn't keep his hands to himself.

"oh? all this for me darling?" kaeya had walked up behind you and allowed his hands to run down your sides as you added earrings to your final look.

he kissed your neck, and before he could continue, you turned around placing a kiss on his lips. "this isn't for you, love. i have a mission..."

the wine glass that was resting in kaeya's hand had now been shattered to little pieces, littered all over the floor of angels share. he had came here to help keep his mind off of you, but it wasn't helping. at all.

kaeya quickly slammed mora down at the bar, scaring charles before heading off to you. he knew he could be potentially ruining your mission, and jean would have his head for it, but at this point in time he really could care less. you were more important to him than his job.

if only the grand master hadn't taken all of the horses with him, maybe kaeya would've gotten there faster. damn him.

as fast as his feet could carry him, he arrived at the goth grand hotel (did you really need a horse kaeya?) he pushed the fatui agent at the doorway trying to stop him and barged straight to the front desk.

"if you don't tell me what room y/n is staying in right now, i swear i will freeze hell over this place." the poor frightened desk lady handed kaeya the hotel key without protest. he swiped it from her and marched off.

"a42... a42... come on where are you?" kaeya walked down 2 hallways until he finally found it.

not even bothering to use the key, kaeya froze the knob before kicking the door open. much to his dismay, you were pinned down to the bed with the enemy right on top, ready to weald his weapon.

kaeya wasted no time to act. he shoved the guy off of you and drew his sword, keeping it pointed nicely at his neck so he couldn't move.

you jumped off the bed to retrieve your own. "i was handling it you know."

"if by handling you mean almost getting yourself killed, i would say you did a fine job." kaeya's voice was still seductive even when he was mad. maybe he should've gone on this mission instead.

you quickly cuff the fatui agent before kicking him out of the room, leaving him for the knights to deal with. "i'll get revenge for this! my superior, he won't like this. he'll deal with you!"

you sigh as the two knights grab him. "yeah, yeah, i've heard it all before. the day your superior comes for me is the day you'll see hellfire." was the last snarky comment you made before closing the door behind you, leaving only you and kaeya in the room.

"there were other knights here?" kaeya asked, approaching you. "only two. master jean planted them just in case."

kaeya pulled you to him for a very tight hug without warning. he buried his face into your neck and wrapped one arm around your shoulders while the other holding your waist. he kissed your neck, and then your jaw, cheek, forehead, your lips, ear, and finally whispered, "you're never doing this again."

you pull his face back so his eyes can meet yours and you cup your palm around his jaw. you tilt your head to the side and raise a brow. "why? because you were scared for me or because you were jealous?"

there are very few things that make kaeya aleberich blush. but him being called out by you is definitely one of them. "jealous? no, of course not. i was worried for you, love." he pulled back from you a bit and you became a laughing fit.

"hey, i was! you cant prove otherwise." he mumbled the last part and crossed his arms like an angry toddler.

you wiped a fake tear from your eyes and composed yourself. how cute, you thought to yourself. "but you did know i had it, right?" you asked.

kaeya looked back over to you, arms still crossed. "yes, i did dear. you're more than capable of holding your own. but what kind of boyfriend would i be if i wasn't to worry, hmm?" he walked back to you and brushed away any hair that was out of place.

"but," his teasing voice was back. "we do have this very nice hotel room to ourselves now. how about we make the most of it and-"

cue you throwing a pillow at him

-> zhongli

he understood your line of work. he understood how dangerous it could be. but what you had told zhongli earlier that night still wandered at the back of his mind.

you were dressed beautifully in black. the outfit hugged your body in just the right places and zhongli thought you looked absolutely ravishing.

"going somewhere dear?" his eyes were drinking you up. you smile and plant a kiss on his cheek. "it's for the mission i told you about."

the mission sounded dangerous indeed. he had no doubt in your strength but this, this just seemed too much, even for you.

the man you were seducing is known to be very dangerous and zhongli's subconscious couldn't rest at that. mortals were quite fragile after all.

"mr.zhongli? did you hear me?" hu tao waved her hand in front of his face. he snapped out of his daydreams about you and redirected his attention to the young funeral director.

"apologizes miss hu tao, could i possibly take the rest of the night off?" zhongli felt terrible for asking this of her but he just had to go to you.

hu tao granted him his wish, believing that he was feeling ill. at first, zhongli was debating if he really should come to you. it really is their mission, i'm sure they can handle themself.

he was afraid his interference would mess with your mission, but ultimately his concern for you overpowered that thought.

he reached the location in no time. it was a small beach house right on yaoguang shoal. and right outside, 2 guards were posted.

such an important and powerful man obviously has security, zhongli thought to himself. zhongli closed his eyes. he tried to listen for the sound your voice; a sound he had learned to memorize. and he found it. your voice was muffled was full of distress. that was enough for zhongli to approach the guards, ready to break open the door.

"hey," one of the guards stuck his arm out blocking the door. "you can't be here. so lea-" before the guard could get out another word, zhongli send geo shards flying towards both of them, knocking them to the ground unconscious.

he sent a geo spear straight through the door, stabbing the enemy's arm on the other side and pinning him to the wall. you were limp on the floor, but the sight of the geo spear put you to ease. your dress was torn leaving you a bit exposed and you had broken your ankle while fighting the man, but the pain seemed to go away as soon as you saw zhongli walk in.

zhongli sent a few more geo shards to secure the guy on the wall before rushing over to you. "dear, are you alright?" he said squatting down beside you. zhongli took of his coat and draped it over your exposed body. he placed his hand gently on your shoulder, afraid to hurt you.

you smile in relief, raising a hand his arm. "i'm alright, just a broken ankle. could you help me get him to the milieth? they should be here in 10 minutes. i've gotten all the information i need."

"you, this- this isn't over! i'll come back for you. i swear it." the man slurred. your eyes widened at his arm. there was a lot blood was oozing from his wound.

"zhongli, he can't die." zhongli looked at you in confusion. "but he broke your ankle. he can perish."

laughing right now would be very inappropriate, so you had to retain yourself. "i know but the milieth still need him. very alive."

zhongli obeyed your wish and yanked the man off of the wall harshly. "i won't heal him, but he can be taken to bubu pharmacy." zhongli took the spear out and tied his arm tightly with a random cloth he found on the floor. he tossed the man outside for the milieth and rushed back to you. he helped you sit up and you rested your body against his chest.

"thank you, for coming. although i could've handled it myself you know." you look up at him and smile. he lets out a sigh and kissed your lips. "i know dear. but um-" his coat was slipping down your body, revealing a good amount of your cleavage. he turned his head away, blushing a bit. "you should wear my coat." you giggle at his words but put on his coat properly.

zhongli rests you against the wall and scoots to where your feet. he tears some of his shirt to wrap your ankle in. "this will hold it until we get you medical attention." without warning, he picks you up in bridal style. you quickly wrap your arms around his neck so you don't fall.

"w-what are you doing?" you ask, it came out more as a squeak. "the milieth are here," zhongli responds walking outside. "they can take care of that man. we need to get you back to liyue."

yes, he really did carry you all the way to liyue.

[harrysgoldenline]

can you pls write an angst where y/n went to her and harry's house that they bought or something like that in Italy to try to move on and go on with her life after harry broke up with her but then she never expected that harry will be there as well with his new gf.... you can end it whatever you like!! thank you

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: idk, sad I guess? also not proof read oops sorry lol

When In Italy

It has been three months since you’ve last seen or spoken to Harry. A very abrupt change after being together for four years, with constant talk of marriage and starting a family, the break up was something either of you really expected. It started as a break of sorts, eventually turning into a complete break up after only a couple weeks in a somewhat mutual way. With Harry's career taking off in so many different ways, with acting, the new tour and more, his life had changed completely and has left him very little time for anything else.

It went from daily phone and FaceTime calls, constant text messages and flowers being delivered to nothing.

“You really think that’s a good idea?” Your best friend asked you, concern plastered all over her face, “that won’t bring up too much?”

She had been sitting with you as you finished packing up your suitcase, trying her best to give you her support as you were going to be going on a spur of the moment trip to Italy and staying at the home of you and Harry, needing the much needed getaway and disconnecting completely. Seeing different things online about him all the time didn’t make it any easier and no matter how hard you tried to avoid it, he always found his way to pop up.

“I just need a break, everything here is a reminder to.” You sigh, “I just want a change of scenery. I think it’ll be good for me.”

“I hope so…” she frowned, looking up at you with a sad smile, “please don’t just sit there in the house all alone. Go out, meet some local Italian men!”

“I’m definitely not ready for that.” You say, forcing a laugh as you close your suitcase, zipping it up and placing it on the floor by your door, “but I will really try, I promise. I will call you if I need you and you can come out?”

“Hell yeah I can.” She laughs, standing up and giving you a hug, “and you’re really going right now?”

You bite your bottom lip as your eyes fill up with tears, nodding quickly as you look at her and she quickly pulled you in a tight hug.

“You can do this.”

***

You pulled your suitcase through the front door, waving goodbye to the driver as you turned around to close the door behind you as they left you alone in the house that has so many memories inside. You pause at the door, taking a couple deep breaths as you look around and try and keep your mind at bay before walking to the guest bedroom, deciding the main bedroom was too much and the guest bedroom was already way nicer than your apartment.

After taking the time to unpack, knowing you would stay awhile, you put away your things into the various drawers and closet in the room. You keep out a swimsuit and change into it quickly, sliding a simple dress overtop before walking out onto the balcony attached to the bedroom, taking in the smell of the ocean and beautiful view, memories overwhelming your senses.

“Well don’t you look absolutely stunning.” You can practically hear him say all over again, reliving the memory as if it was actually happening, “ ‘m the luckiest man in the world.”

You remember him coming up behind you, arms tight around your waist as his head rested on your shoulder, soft kisses being pressed along your shoulder as you leaned back into him, a large smile covering both of your faces before you leaned your head back, connecting your lips before he pulled back.

“I can’t decide…” He had whispered, connecting your lips again.

“Decide what?” You had giggled, turning around to face him, arms resting around his shoulders as his came around your waist.

“If I want to get married here or have our honeymoon here.”

You shuddered slightly as the memory came back, letting out a deep breath before packing a beach bag quickly and leaving the house just as fast, taking a walk down to the private beach and settling yourself in a lounge chair. Applying your sunscreen you could almost convince yourself it was him applying it on you like he always would do, large hands massaging it into your skin.

You push the thought away as you grab your phone, playing music softly to try and distract your mind. Your fingers hovered over your different social media apps, wanting desperately to just give it a quick click, wondering if you could get any update on where he could be from his fans, posts always finding their way on your feed. Instead, you hold it down, deleting all of the various apps and throwing your phone down on your bag, grabbing your book and letting the music play, opening to the first page to try and escape into the new world.

***

After a few hours been spent peacefully on the beach, you decided to head back to the house to take a nice bubblebath and order yourself some dinner, deciding that you would go to town the next morning in order to cook some of your own meals. The walk back to the house was more enjoyable this time and you began to feel a sense of hope as you approached the house, your heart not clenching in as much pain as it originally had done when you first pulled up to the house earlier that day.

Using your keys, you unlocked the back door, locking it behind you again as soon as you got inside, making your way to the bathroom right away and letting the water fill up the bathtub, pouring in some of the fancy bubblebath that you remember buying once from your favorite boutique in town, making a mental note to stop there again tomorrow.

Discarding your clothes, you hung them up, deciding you could use it once more as a cover up after not even going into the water, and you honestly didn’t even have the energy to even think about doing laundry right now, even simply showering was too much most days so you were happy to submerge yourself simply into the warm water, eyes fluttering closed as it embraced you with it’s comfort.

You began preparing yourself a mental list of things you could do tomorrow, forcing yourself to get out of the house and keep yourself occupied after locking yourself away in your apartment the past few months, planning on taking baby steps but knowing that even starting will be more like a push off a cliff.

Pulling yourself out of the bath once finishing cleansing your body, deciding to save washing your hair for the next day, you pulled yourself out of the bath, honestly just wanting to curl up into bed and go to sleep but knowing you needed to force yourself to eat something. So, you dry off, applying some matching lotion to your body, which made you feel a sense of pride of yourself as you made small steps to take care of yourself again, thanking the air of Italy as self motivation and threw on the robe that you swear was the softest one in the world.

A sudden sound coming from the house made you jump, a hand coming over your chest to try and calm your racing heart as your mind tried to think of all of the possibilities of who could be there, or maybe it was coming outside? Or honestly at this point you thought it could be your imagination as the memories that have been flashing into your mind have been so vivid it felt like it was actually happening. Your feet softly padded on the wood flooring, making your way to what you thought was the site of the sound, feeling bile rise in your throat at the sight before you.

It was Harry there, with one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen in your life, laughing together.

You weren’t sure if they saw you, both of their hair wet as towels wrapped around them and it seemed like they had just got back from the beach, making you think that you must have just missed each other as you swapped positions. You slowly walk backwards, thinking of running out the back towards the beach and calling a car, leaving all of your clothes there.

You could see slightly into the master bedroom, seeing their suitcases sprawled and things laid on the couch as they chatted together, knowing they must have arrived when you were down at the beach, your presence unknown as all of your things sat seemingly hidden in the guest room which you were now desperately trying to go and hide in, but after it being too log since you been here, you accidentally ran into the wall, a photo that was hanging there crashing to the floor, glass shattering.

Two heads quickly snapped their way towards you, both pairs of eyes meeting yours as gasps left both of their lips, Harry’s face going pale as he saw you. You opened your mouth to speak, but with this being your first time seeing your partner since the breakup, no words were able to come out.

Spinning on your heel your ran back into the guest bedroom, pulling the suitcase out of the closet and messily shoving all of your clothes into it, tears stinging your eyes and unable to hold them in as they silently spilling on you cheeks, more coming as you heard the familiar steps coming your way, feeling the presence behind you and hearing the door shut softly behind you.

“Y/N?”

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Part 2 anyone???

ALSO PLEASE READ THIS!!

I was wondering what people would think about me doing personalized little blurbs/imagines for people who donate to my tip jar? you could give me your name, prompt, pronouns, etc and i will write it just for you!! :) i’m trying to write more and it’s hard bc i’m a broke college student who needs to work but if people who WANT a personalized little fic with bucky or harry or something with their own name and such maybe I could do something like that? of course I will still be doing all normal requests and such but this way it’s kinda like a one time patreon for people who want to do something like that? idk please comment/send me a message/ask and let me know what you think!!!! let’s talk!