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beomeli · 3 years ago

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A normal October night || C.SB

Warning: mention of drinking, underaged drinking, mild swearing

Genre: Angst, unrequited love, heartbreak

Non-idol!Soobin X gn!Reader

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As the cold night of october settled with beautiful autumn leaves and quiet streets, one specific house didn't bother keeping the nice aesthetic at peace.

People were dancing, drinking, making out, all while loud music played in the background. They didn’t care about the complaining, they only wanted to make as much possible of their youthful days. Even though the house was fairly big, every space was crowded with drunk people having the time of their lives. Making the rooms feel small and claustrophobic. As for you, you were standing alone towards a white wall.

Your best friends had convinced you to come, and since one of them kept on insisting, you couldn’t do much but to agree. That one was Choi Yeonjun, an excited extrovert that always acted out on whatever came to mind, as for the other.. his name was Choi Soobin, the more quiet and calm one. Even though they were different personality wise, they complemented each other very well. Always seeming to get along and joke around, Yeonjun pulling stupid antics and Soobin laughing alongside. they were very good best friends. And they were your best friends.

Your first encounter with Yeonjun almost felt unreal. You being a first year and him being one year above, saw you quietly sitting alone outside the school building. you were eating your lunch by yourself next to the school gymnasium. And as he walked past you towards the gym, he couldn’t help but walk up and greet you.

Ever since that day you've been great friends. Even though you had different classes that also were on different floors you managed to hang out with him quite often. And after a few weeks Yeonjun introduced you to his so called other best friend. That person was Soobin. A freshman just as you, who was in a different class, hence why you hadn’t talked nor seen him before. But still, you fell for him, hard. Not only was he intelligent, funny and kind, he was extremely beautiful. His whole demeanor and appearance was breathtaking. You couldn’t help but take notice at his every feature, slowly ascending into a rabbit hole with nothing to stop you. The more you talked to him the more your love grew. And the fact that he actually saw you as his best friend made your heart skip.

You had hoped for this party to be a great time for you and your friends to dance and have fun. But as soon as you stepped through the wooden door and into the sea off people, you understood that, that wouldn't be the case. Yeonjun made his way towards the kitchen talking to his friend from other schools. Soobin on the other hand, awkwardly made his way towards the living room, trying to keep a low profile. You knew Soobin wasn’t very fond of parties, hence the biggest reason he tried so hard convincing you to come.

“Come on Y/N, I don’t want to take care of Yeonjun alone! Plus, I really like your company..” his words stuck with you, he enjoyed your company? He wanted to spend time with you? You couldn’t help but repeat his phrase in your head. Fixating on every word he said, happy that he wanted to have you around him.

You followed behind closely, trying to not bump into all too many people as the rooms were tightly crowded with all the drunken people. The smell of alcohol being unavoidable. Soobin found an empty wall and leaned towards it, inspecting everyone. While you closely snuck your way past all the people and also leaned toward that white wall.

The music was even louder, the atmosphere humid, as all the drunk sweaty people were jumping up and down to the music. But you couldn’t help but feel an comfortable aura as Soobin stood close to you, smiling a bit to himself. Your heart skipped a beat.

"It's not even 8 pm and people are already wrecked." You started casually, as you looked at all the drunk people roaming around, dancing.

"Yeah, And in about 20 minutes, Yeonjun will become one of them" Soobin answered, looking over at you with a small smile. You let out a chuckle at his funny remark, looking up at him and seeing that beautiful smile of his. Your cheeks felt warm as a smile crept up on your lips.

"Oh well, good thing there's two of us cause we all know that Yeonjun is a two-man-job" you replied, which made Soobin let out a little laugh. The beautiful sound ringing so perfectly in your ears.

"Yeah.." he looked back at the people, keeping that smile. Your heart skipped a beat, and slowly, you felt the urge creeping up on you. You wanted to confess. You knew confessing in a party with music blasting and people being all crazy wasn’t the most romantic, but you couldn’t hold back these feelings anymore. this was the time. You wanted to tell him how you felt.

"Soobin I have something to tell you.." you felt nervous, as your voice evidently shook a bit. your heartbeat speed up, as small sweat drops formed on your forehead. This was more nervwrecking than you thought.

"What is it Y/N?” the way he said your name so softly and how he kept that smile on his beautiful lips. You loved it.

Before you could continue your sentence, a sudden distraction occurred when someone accidentally bumped right into Soobin, falling head first into his arms. Quickly, he grabbed the person by the arms, trying to help the person in question finding their balance. Before you knew it, they looked up. She was stunning, absolutely gorgeous. You almost blushed when you saw her beautiful features complimenting her in every way.

"Oh my god! I am so sorry!" She was evidently embarrassed, her voice not sounding slurred or anything, she was probably a bit more on the sober side. She looked apologetic as she kept apologizing for literally launching at Soobin, but Soobin was kind. Giving her that dimpled smile and telling her that everything was fine.

"No it's okay!" Soobin quickly replied, he took a good look at the girl in front of him, even he looked stunned at her beauty, you noticed a small blush forming on his cheeks. You were paralyzed.

"I was just trying to get to the kitchen and suddenly someone came out of nowhere and pushed me.." the girls voice was soft, and she seemed so sweet. Soobin couldn't help but stare at her fondly, inspecting every bits of her. He was truly mesmerized.

You heart took a turn, this was the last thing you wanted. You confession directly flew out the door. There’s no way you could confess now. Maybe this was for the better..? Never had Soobin ever looked at you that way. You felt defeated.

"Don't worry. We all know being sober in a room with drunk people are bound to cause trouble." Soobin said, making the girl laugh.

"Yeah haha, they love coming out of nowhere.." She continued, and to that you were just watching intently as the girl and Soobin made conversation. It seemed so casual, like they've known each other their whole life. And you could see a faint blush on Soobin’s cheeks.

"My name is Soobin, and yours?"

"Yujin, nice to meet you Soobin" they shook hands, looking at each other with adoration. While completely ignoring you.

You couldn't handle the sight and slowly slinked your way out of the situation. Sure, meeting a new person is fine, especially if they seem as nice as her. But why did they have to ignore you? You were standing right there, watching their moves intently. Couldn’t you at least get a ‘hi’ or an introduction from soobin? No, your presence was too invincible.

You could feel tears pricking your eyes but you tried your hardest keeping them in. You didn't want to cause a scene and especially in front of Soobin. You didn’t come to this party for your own entertainment, you came to support Soobin. If he was happy without your company, then you had to accept it.

Slowly you made your way to a new bare wall, a bit afar from Soobin and Yujin, you could still observe them talking. And so you did, occasionally looking down at your phone and texting a few people. You wanted to go to Yeonjun but he was dancing crazy on the dance floor which you had expected. so you just decided to keep leaning towards that white wall. Luckily, you had your phone, you could distract yourself easily by playing on it for a few hours. Still, the growing feeling of sadness didn’t ease of your mind. You were disappointed to say the least, this was suppose to be a night you confessed. But everything changed so quickly, in a heartbeat.

As time ticked, Soobin and Yujin were still talking. for the first time in a long time, you looked over at them. surprised to see Soobin holding a red cup. When did he get that drink? I didn't even know Soobin liked alcohol.. You shrugged it off, knowing that Soobin is a responsible person and you were just too tired to even think straight.

Quietly, you tapped on Soobin’s shoulder, he looked down at you with surprise.

"Oh hey Y/N. What is it?" His voice was a bit harsh, as if he didn't want to get interrupted talking to Yujin at this time. It made your heart sink, you just wanted to get out of there quickly.

"Hey Soobin soo,” you paused and looked up at him more clearly, he was anticipating your sentence, clearly wanting to go back to whatever him and Yujin talked about. Eager to keep hearing whatever she had to say.

“..I'm really tired and I think I wanna go home now so.."

"Oh.." he didn’t know what else to say, but it was enough for you to understand that you would leave this party alone. You felt you hear crumble, tears pricking your eyes. He had promised to walk you home that night, since he knew it was quite a walk and being a Saturday night it might be dangerous. But now you knew that walking home together were no longer an option. You nodded and made your way out the crashed house, ascending into the dark streets of Seoul.

As soon as you had turned a block, tears fell down you soft red cheeks, and a quiet sobbing followed by that. Thinking back, it was good that you never confessed, cause it was obviously one-sided all along. It was clear that he liked Yujin. You couldn't stop feeling such pain in your chest as you thought back to that scene of him and her talking, just letting you stand by all alone. How he never once, looked over his shoulder to see if you still were there, or even hesitating when he noticed your small disappointed face when he waved you off. He said he enjoyed your company, and he’s suppose to be your best friend. How could one girl make everything change so drastically?

Now you were walking home, alone. Crying, freezing and heartbroken.

You were angry at Soobin for letting this happen, but also angry at yourself. For thinking that you even had a chance with him in the first place.

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Finally you came home without incident. You locked the door and slipped of you shoes before sluggishly making your way towards your bedroom. The crying had stopped now, but the depressive aura was still there. And so you fell onto your bed letting out a loud sigh.

After playing with your phone for almost 3 hours at the party, it was dead, so you plugged it in and made your way towards the shower. It was nice letting some steam off as you took your time in the warm shower.

You hair now wrapped around in a towel, along with you dressed in a pajamas. You made your way back towards the bed, reaching for your phone on the nightstand and turning it on. Your screen flashes the notification box, showing 5 missed calls and 11 messages from Soobin. You were chocked, why had he so desperately tried contacting you? Quickly you dialed him back.

He picked up immediately.

"Y/N! Aahh, Finally you picked up!” He sounded hysterical, but you heard how his voice tried calmed down, trying to compose his breathing again.

“Where are you? I thought we were going home together." Had he forgotten the whole ‘I want to go home?’ Conversation? This was ridiculous.

"Soobin. I told you that I wanted to go home and you just told me goodbye before continuing talking to that girl.. so I went home alone." You couldn't believe that he actually forgot that conversation because he was so invested in Yujin, which only made you more upset.

Soobin was quiet, probably trying to find his words. After a while, you could hear a tired sigh.

"I- I'm so sorry Y/N. God, I'm such an idiot. Please let me make it up to you.."

You could hear regret in his voice, he felt guilty for sure. but still that sourness didn't disappear,

"I can come over and we can watch a movie or have a sleepover.." you heard the desperate attempt to make his situation better but only silence fell from your lips.

"I don't think that's a good idea right now. I'm really tired so I'm going to bed but, but I guess I'll see you around." You were harsh in your tone, just like he was an hour ago. And to that you hung up before he could even answer you. For some it may seem harsh, but to you it felt like a good start to try forgetting him.

Cause you were now a 100% that being with him would never happen.

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Early morning came, and you felt the sun shining on your skin. It was a nice October morning, one that you’d have the urge to sit by a cafe and watch the beautiful autumn leaves flow by as the wind drifted them away. The apartment was quiet. And you comfortable woke up to the sound of the city waking up. As you made your way toward the kitchen, wanting to get started on some breakfast. The doorbell rang. Quickly you made your way to the wooden door. Turning the handle without checking who it was first.

"Soobin?" Was the first word that came out, you were chocked to meet eyes with your tall friend. He looked tired, had soft eyebags and messier hair, but he stilled looked stunning. You imagined if that would be how Soobin looked like waking up next to him. Feeling his soft skin and touches.

"Hey can I come in?" Soobin looked at you with sweet eyes while holding up a bag of snacks. You knew this was his way of redemption, trying to make it up to you.

Before you could answer Soobin spoke up again,

"Please, I really want to make it up to you.." his voice still calm, but showing so much emotions. And his eyes pleading with guilt. You couldn't resist him. You were close caving in, inviting him inside and letting him win over you once more. But you had to refuse,

"I'm sorry Soobin, but I'm busy today.." you didn't look up at him to see his reaction, but you noticed how he let out a loud sigh.

"Okay then.. well you can just call me whenever you're free." And with that he set the bag of snacks down and made his way from your door. You promptly closed the door behind him and sighed to yourself. You didn't want to reject him like that, but you also couldn't handle being so hopelessly in love with him. This the best way to dismiss your feelings, in better words. Stop loving him.

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"Hey Y/N! I’m waiting for you by the ice-cream store already!" Yeonjun’s positive tone made you feel better.

"Okay sure, I’ll be there in 10 minutes." A faint chuckle let out from your lips.

"Okay! Bye!" And to that you hung up the phone.

It has gone by a few weeks since that party. And your terms with Soobin wasn't the best at the moment. He had stopped trying to make it up to you, which seemed like a good thing, but he started seeing Yujin more and more. Apperantly they exchanged phone numbers and they've been going out together. Jealousy overcame you, you didn't want this to happen. But still, you can’t control how Soobin felt towards other, this was your problem to bare. Your selfishness was the reasoning for this. So you had to make up for it by yourself.

You quickly slipped on your shoes before heading out the door.

After a 5 minute walk you saw the mentioned Ice-cream shop that you and Yeonjun wanted to try out. Yeonjun stood outside the shop, tall and handsome, and along side him was... Soobin.

You cursed Yeonjun for not telling you that Soobin also were invited, you were in the middle of operation-forget-Soobin and it was impossible if Soobin was in your presence. You knew that as soon as you met his beautiful eyes you were bound cave in once more. But there was no turning back now, Yeonjun spotted you and loudly shouted for you to hurry. And so you did. Soobin looked at you, his eyes inspecting your every move. you could feel your heartbeat quicken. This was awkward, you haven't answered any of Soobin’s texts or phone calls and now you were on your merry way to meet him face to face.

"I'm so excited, I've been craving Ice-cream the whole day!" Yeonjun put his arm around you before happily entering the shop. It was a lot of people there, hence it being a new place. You stood at the queue and waited. Soobin was behind you. you could feel his gaze watch over you as you tried your best to ignore him. His presence was unbearable, and your heartbeat kept quickening.

Slowly he leaned closer to you and bent down towards your ear.

"You look nice today.." his tone was sweet and soft. Your breath hitched at his action. Dammit Soobin. You tried your best to continue ignoring him, instead looking over at Yeonjun and tried starting a conversation.

“Should I get Oreos or caramel as a topping?”

......

After 10 minutes you all had finally gotten the ice-cream you craved and stood outside the shop in the nice October sunlight. Digging in immediately. Yeonjun enjoyed his ice-cream loudly, complimenting it every second he got. Soobin on the other hand was gentle and licked small portions, not making any sound at all. It impressed you that such different people can become such good friends.

There was an awkward silence between the three of you, which only you and Soobin noticed. Yeonjun was too invested in his ice-cream to even notice the tension you and Soobin had built up.

It was uncomfortable, feeling Soobin’s eyes pierce onto you, trying to get your attention. At this point you knew he was desperate for winning you back. He missed his best friend. But you didn't oblige, you kept the determination to ignore him and stared at the ice-cream, trying to wave off his intensive stare.

Yeonjun finished of his ice-cream with a loud sigh and looked at you with a big smile.

"Best mint chocolate ice-cream I've ever had!" He chuckled as he made his way towards the door.

"Wait, where are you going?" You asked quickly, he pointed towards the inside and mumbled about tissues. Before you could intervene and follow him inside he closed the door behind him.

Making you and Soobin stand outside there all alone.

Curse you Yeonjun for being so ignorant, there's no way you can make it out of this situation without awkward tension.

You let out a loud sigh and looked down at the ground. Continuing to lick your ice-cream. Soobin was quiet, but he kept his stare. You just wanted this situation to end as quick as possible.

"Y/N, I know you're angry at me.. I know I screwed up.." he started, you could hear his voice cracking a bit. But you didn't dare to look up at his expression. You kept listening,

"But please, listen to me when I tell you that I am genuinely sorry. I miss you, you know.." his tone was desperate, he truly meant every word. You knew him long enough to know how he sounds like when he's at the point of breaking.. At this point, you couldn’t take it anymore. The feeling of neglecting everything you have inside your heart was breaking you slowly, and you just couldn't take it.

You were quiet for a bit, but you let out a small sigh before starting,

"Soobin, I just feel so betrayed and disappointed.. you left me.. because of this girl, like this new girl was more important than your.. best friend.." you sounded so selfish and pathetic as your strong voice ended with a quiet whimpering as tears prickled your eyes. Soobin looked confused, his lips were trembling, so were his hands. But slowly he reached out to your hand. His soft touch feeling your cold hand. He held onto it and started caressing it with his thumb.

"I am sorry.." his voice was low, and he cursed at himself for not giving you a better respond, but he didn't know what to say. For being such a cool headed guy, he never knew what to do in situations like these. When someone was deeply hurt and the reasoning for it, was him.

As he looked down at you, something in his mind wasn't adding up. He still couldn't put a finger down why you were so disappointed as you were. Sure, the situation at hand was not something to just look past, but your demeanor and reaction was a bit different for a thing like this.

"Y/N, I am truly sorry.. I'm sorry for leaving you, ignoring you and forgetting you.." you just nodded as a response, keeping your head low.

“I will never do that again, ever. You are so important to me, and I don’t want to hurt you again.” He once again sounded desperate, but you knew his words were genuine. He really did treasure your friendship. Before you could respond, he started,

"But I need to know.., is there something else that I've done towards you?" His question took you by surprise. You knew Soobin wouldn't be satisfied with nothing but the truth. So you opted the only option left, It was time to say it. Your voice was trembling, and you slowly looked up at his eyes, tears prickling at your own. Slowly you opened your mouth, wording.

"Soobin.. I'm in love with you.."

you voice was shaking, and your heart at this point was about to burst. His eyes widened at the statement, and he let go of your hand.

It fell quiet between the two of you, only the city ambiance filling the quietness between you.

Say something dammit.. this was nervwrecking. He was just staring at you with wide eyes, not expecting to hear such deep words coming from you. You couldn’t help but fiddle with your fingers, waiting and waiting for his answer.

Just say something! Anything..!

He was quiet, shocked. You couldn’t take it anymore. You spoke up, tears now falling.

"I know you don't like me back, because of the way you.. look at her, I just know.." Soobin was quiet, his mind was in chaos trying to register and analyze what you just said.

"I'm.. sorry.." his voice was trembling, just like yours. He once again cursed himself for not giving you a better answer, here you are spilling you heart out, being vulnerable. And all he could do was say sorry. idiot.

you gave him a small nodded, as a appreciative smile crept up on your lips. You were grateful that the answer was clear as day, and that you could finally move on. You backed away a bit.

"It was nice while it lasted, you were a good friend Soobin.. and I hope you treat her well.." you couldn’t be there anymore, there was no reason to keep seeing that face he made. He looked shocked, almost in disbelief. It was too much to bare.

you turned around and threw what was left of the ice-cream into the trash bin. Before quickly walking away, leaving Soobin alone. He knew following you was pointless, it would just make the situation at hand worse. But he couldn’t help but to feel guilt and regret creeping up on him. Why couldn’t he say what he really thought..?

Yeonjun finally came out after a couple of minutes.

"Sorry for making you wait so long, I went to the restroom as well soo.." he trailed off when he noticed that you had left.

"Where did Y/N go.? Did they also go to the restroom?” Yeonjun looked over at Soobin, who was now looking down onto the pavement.

"They didn't feel well and went home.." Soobin said, a very blunt and obvious lie. Yeonjun sensed it, but he didn’t want to further question, this wasn’t his business. A loud sigh escaped his lips.

"That’s too bad, I really like hanging out with them.." Yeonjun was visibly upset. Scratching his head roughly.

"Yeah, Me too..”

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A/N:

God I absolutely love pure angst, and I’ve always had a thing for unrequited love. Idk why

I wanted to end this in a sad note once again, hope you don’t mind :,)

I’ll probably do a more fluff next time and I was leaning against Yeonjun or Hueningkai. But I’m not sure.

If you have any ideas or suggestions, go ahead and send them in my ask box! I’d love to hear your ideas!

Either way, I want to say thank you for all the amazing response I got from Rainy Days. I was so nervous when posting but you all are so sweet!

Ty for reading, Byeee❤️

This work belongs to @Beomeli on tumblr. Please do not trace or copy my work ©

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sodone-withlife · 4 years ago

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glass is fragile

Criminal Minds Fic Part Two

| PART 1 | PART 2 |

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: implied character death

Notes: cross-posted on Ao3. this is the result of a random idea I had because while I love Hotchniss, I love the idea of the two meeting in college and keeping in contact with Hotch being an overprotective brother

fortuna vitrea est; tum cum splendet frangitur (fortune is glass; just when it gleams brightest it shatters) - Publilius Syrus

“I’ve got five names on the bottom of the list Prentiss gave us,” Morgan said, walking towards the case board. “Luke Renault, Lawrence Riley, Lyla Rafferty, Lyle Rogers, Landon Raines.”

“All with the initials L.R.” Seaver pointed out.

“The CIA uses cryptograms like that to assign non-official cover agents working the same case,” Hotch remarked.

“So do other foreign countries,” Morgan added. “These last five names are covers—spies,” he said, pointing at the document.

“Wait,” Garcia said, taking the document. “No, this isn’t right,” she said, pointing at the page. “Do you see this space? That shouldn’t be here.”

“Could it be a formatting error?” Reid asked.

“No, this is a spreadsheet template,” Garcia answered. “Formatting doesn’t allow for this, there’s a missing name on here.”

“It’s another spy whose cover is L.R.” Hotch said quietly, looking to the elevator and mentally preparing to give the looming long-winded explanation.

“‘Lauren Reynolds is dead,’” Reid said aloud behind him.

“What?” Hotch turned around in shock, having not heard that name spoken aloud in years.

“‘Lauren Reynolds is dead,’” Reid repeated, “Prentiss said that on a phone call seventeen days ago, but her intonation wasn’t surprise or grief, it was like a mantra, like she was reminding herself.”

As Reid continued talking, Hotch pulled out his phone and dialed her number, hoping like hell his hunch about what she's doing is just that—a hunch.

“If Prentiss is the last name on that list, she’s on Doyle’s list, too,” Seaver said.

Hotch followed the sound of a ringtone to Emily’s desk and opened the first drawer. “Guys,” he cut into the team’s discussion, holding the gun and badge she’d left behind out for them to see.

“She left her badge and gun? Why would she do that?” Morgan asked, confused. Hotch placed them back down and grabbed his other phone, pulling up his messages.

<< It’s T, isn’t it.

>>He’s going after us, he’s threatened the others.

<<Blackbird.

<<Where are you?

<<What are you doing?

>>I’m sorry.

“That doesn’t make sense,” Reid turned back to the others, uncomprehending. “Why run? We’re her family, we can help.”

“Doyle’s killing families,” Rossi pointed out in realization. “She’s not married, not close to relatives—”

“Last night, Doyle verbally threatened to kill us,” Hotch said, looking up as his worry for Emily’s safety returned in full force.

“How do you know that?” Morgan asked suspiciously. In response, Hotch held out his phone and played the recording Emily had sent over last night.

“Aaron, Doyle mentioned all of us except you. Why?” Rossi asked, noting the distinct lack of any threat directed at the unit chief. Hotch didn’t answer, looking out through the glass doors towards the elevators. The others followed his line of sight.

“JJ?” Garcia stood up and dashed over to the long-missed blonde, who was standing in the doorway.

“I’ve called the State Department for permission to have someone come over and shed light on Emily’s past. Officially, I can’t tell you anything,” Hotch told the profilers who were staring in shock, “but JJ can.”

~~~

“Okay, so I talked to a friend from Langley, he couldn’t give me Emily’s full CIA history, but he could give me this,” JJ said, turning to the TV screen. “She assumed the identity of Lauren Reynolds as part of a special task force called JTF-12.”

“I heard about them,” Rossi remarked, “They were profiling terrorists, weren’t they?”

“Yeah,” JJ answered. “Assembled after 9/11, CIA and Western agencies contributed their ‘best and brightest’.”

“But serial killers and terrorists have different personality traits,” Seaver pointed out.

“How does Doyle fit in?” Reid asked.

“He was their last case,” JJ said, “and now the JTF is on his hit list.”

“Jeremy Wolff was victim number one, from Germany’s BND,” she began, focusing on the pictures on the screen. “Sean McAlister at Interpol was the second and was the one who brought the JTF in on Doyle. He was murdered last week in Brussels with his wife and daughter,” JJ said softly, flicking a brief look at Hotch, who had squashed down his reaction.

“Tsia Mosely of France’s DCRI—she got engaged to Jeremy earlier this year and fled here when he died,” JJ continued and sent another look at Hotch, who took a breath and steeled himself for the barrage of accusations and questions he was sure to get.

His picture appeared on the screen.

“Hotch?” They turned to look at him in confused shock.

“It wasn’t my prerogative to tell you,” he moved around the table and took the remote from JJ, looking at the other profilers. “None of you had the clearance for this, and there wasn’t time between the numerous phone calls I had to make in order to get JJ back here.”

“I understand you have questions, but we need to focus on Emily,” he said firmly, turning to the screen. “Clyde Easter of the British SIS was the leader. I’ve talked to him over the phone twice and he was in DC last I heard, but I haven’t been able to get a hold of him since Tsia’s murder.”

“You were involved in the Doyle case?” Rossi asked. Are you safe? went unasked but was heard by everyone.

“I’m well aware of the danger I am in,” Hotch said, “but if I’m right, he’s going to be too fixated on Emily to care much about me, though I’ve had precautions in place since we first found out he escaped.”

“Did you ever make any arrests? Maybe that’s why he’s after you?”

“No, the host countries always took care of that and we just moved onto the next case. Given the shadowy nature of terrorist cells, we were mostly involved in infiltration.”

“Who was undercover on Doyle?” Reid asked.

“Emily,” JJ answered.“She posed as another weapons dealer and met him in Boston to get intel on Valhalla.” JJ paused, looking at Hotch apprehensively.

He took over, knowing what she was hung up on. “The recon we did on Doyle included a background on all of his previous romantic relationships, and… ” he trailed off, hesitating, “she’s exactly his type.”

~~~

“Prissy, where the hell are you?”

“Oh, is that worry that I hear, Iceman?”

“Blackbird’s in Boston, isn’t she.”

“Is that a question?”

~~~

“Emily walked into a trap,” Garcia said shakily, pointing at the screen. “It looks like Doyle got into the SUV, but from this angle, you can see that he didn’t, which I wish Boston PD would have told me before I started watching it.” She looked at the others apologetically. “Sorry again for the screaming.”

“She threw a flash-bang grenade into a car,” Morgan said incredulously. “She’s lucky the three people inside didn’t die. Is anybody else bothered by that?”

“Well, three bad guys,” Rossi pointed out.

“Illegal as it is, when you’re dealing with the likes of Doyle, who has nothing to lose,” Hotch said softly, staring into space, “you have to be as ruthless as he is and act the same way.”

“So how did Doyle know she was waiting for him?” Rossi asked.

“Well, the mole must have told him, right?” JJ suggested. “The same guy who’s been feeding Doyle the contractors and agents?”

“And our best suspect was just arrested with a suitcase full of cash,” Seaver said.

“Let me take care of Prissy—Clyde,” Hotch amended when the nickname garnered him strange looks. “The rest of you focus on Doyle’s location.”

“I hate to be the one to ask this,” Garcia hesitantly spoke up, looking to Hotch. “But how long does Emily have?”

He remained silent for a moment. “Doyle saved her for last because she is his stressor—she had an intimate connection with him,” Hotch blew out a breath and focused his gaze on the analyst. “He’ll take his time.”

A horrified silence fell over the group. He stood up, unable to bear the heavy tension and fear, and walked into the jet’s bathroom. He leaned on the counter for support and took a few deep breaths, trying not to spiral into a panic.

“How long have you known Emily?” Rossi asked quietly, having followed behind him.

“Fall of ‘89,” he answered, feeling faint amusement at the older man’s surprise. “Yale; I was an ambitious law school student while she was a goth sophomore student. We saw each other again when I did some work for the Ambassador, then again when JTF was formed. Clyde always referred to me as the overprotective big brother even though she’s a year older than me.”

“Did you know about Emily and…?” Rossi trailed off, unsure as to how he should phrase the question.

“I had my suspicions,” Hotch admitted. “I wasn’t there to see her after she was extracted, but I talked to her afterward, and something was definitely different.”

~~~

“October 2006. ‘In closing, I have never worked with a finer agent than Emily Prentiss. Her skill at analyzing and predicting terrorist behavior is unparalleled.’ Signed, name redacted,” Hotch looked up at the Englishman. “I knew something was off when I read her personnel file those years ago. Buzz words, the like—you sold her to the bureau just like you sold Doyle to the North Koreans.”

Clyde remained silent as Hotch continued to stare at him. “It takes a skilled sociopath to betray his team and the cause he held dear for self-preservation.”

He leaned forward, expression dark. “If anything happens to Emily, I swear I will destroy you, our past history be damned.”

Finally shifting in his spot, Clyde sent an appraising look over Hotch. “You were the best,” he said, “but you’re slipping. I’m disappointed.”

Hotch looked at him dispassionately. “My team and I will get Doyle with or without you. Pack lightly—Guantanamo gets humid.”

He turned away as Clyde chuckled behind him. “Nice try,” the Englishman said, “but I’m curious. If I’m the sociopath, then I should feel no empathy, correct?”

“Oh, you’re not the sociopath,” Hotch corrected him, turning around at the doorway. “Doyle is.”

He carefully looked Clyde up and down. “Weren’t you a better profiler?”

~~~

“Did you know Jeremy sold the list to Doyle?” Hotch asked, sitting across from Clyde.

“I had my suspicions,” Clyde admitted casually.

“So when you got to DC, you couldn’t trust Tsia, either. Emily and I read your doubt as duplicity,” Hotch said, leaning forward. “Emily is in trouble, and you need to help me brief the team on the original profile so we can combine that with who he is now as a serial killer.”

“Aaron, you know that Doyle is going to escape from one of your American prisons as easily as he did in North Korea,” Clyde retorted. “There is no catching that man, you have to put a bullet in his brain yourself.” He looked at Hotch seriously. “You, as an FBI agent, took an oath to protect the laws of your country. Can you break your oath, Agent Hotchner?”

Hotch shook his head, understanding his intent and opting for a different answer.

“I can take one.”

There was a knock on the door, which opened to show JJ. “The British consul’s here,” she told the men.

“Could you tell him I’ll be right out?” Clyde requested, not looking away from Hotch. “I’m consulting with the BAU on a case.”

~~~

The profilers stood around quickly set up table and case boards in the Boston field office, Clyde and Hotch at the head of the table.

“Ian Doyle is a power-assertive psychopath. Highly controlling and very explosive when something doesn’t go as planned,” Clyde informed them.

“Okay, so how does this fit in with who he is as a family annihilator?” Seaver asked.

“And Prentiss’ role in it,” Rossi added.

“Annihilators have a romanticized view of who their family is,” Reid suggested.

“Actually,” Hotch interrupted, “he was an orphan.”

“Well, they think of family as their possession until some law shatters that and starts them killing,” Morgan offered.

“Doyle was never married,” Clyde said.

“Children?” Rossi asked.

“No.”

“You run your profile that he carried out his murders with surgical-like precision,” Reid interjected, holding out a photo of the dead child.

“Yeah.”

“With no collateral damage,” Morgan continued, which Clyde and Hotch confirmed.

Rossi looked up, an idea coming to him. “Perhaps this child was a surrogate for one he had.”

“Say Doyle had a child and you didn’t know about it,” Seaver suggested hypothetically, turning to Clyde. “Is it possible that Prentiss did?”

“Then why would she keep it from me?” Clyde asked as if the idea was inconceivable. Hotch raised an eyebrow and let out a scoff, earning himself a look from the Englishman.

“First name Declan,” Hotch told Garcia, ignoring Clyde. “Adoptive guardian Louise Jones, Doyle’s housekeeper. Emily moved them here to Boston eight years ago and she told me she made sure they’re safe. Anything beyond that, a last name, I don’t know.”

“Declan and his mother went missing seven years ago,” Garcia said, typing rapidly. “Bodies were never found… wait, what’s this?” Multiple pictures popped up on her screen. “God, someone took pictures of them being shot,” she said, horrified.

“Is there an address?” Hotch demanded.

“That looks like a warehouse,” Garcia said as she entered in the specifiers. “It’s gotta be big enough to house a small army. That’s weapons, supplies, let’s see, which means it has its own perimeter…” she trailed off, hitting enter. “1518 Adams Street,” she read from her screen.

“Hold on, look at the photos,” Reid interjected, taking a closer look at the screen.

“It’s black clothing and a hand, Reid,” Morgan said, confused.

“No, look at the fingernails,” he corrected, pointing to the screen.

Garcia let out a gasp as she realized what Reid was talking about. “Oh my god.”

~~~

“Agent Prentiss is the only friendly in the building,” Hotch briefed the listening agents, ballistics vest on. “Rescuing her is our primary objective.”

“Our only advantage here is stealth,” Morgan said. “Once they know we’re on site, there’s nothing to stop them from killing her, so we keep it quiet until we get to her… ”

~~~

“Cut the power.”

~~~

“I got her!”

~~~

“Come on, stay with me!”

~~~

“She never made it off the table.”

~~~

“You really didn’t have to do this.”

“She’s my friend, and so are you. I want to protect her and make sure you don’t fall under this weight.”

~~~

<< Stay safe

>>You too

~~~

“Prissy, where are you hiding out right now?”

“Good to hear from you too, Iceman. The Golden City. oh, and I know she’s alive.”

“Glad to hear your habits haven’t changed a bit.”

~~~

“How are you doing?”

“The others aren’t as mad as I expected.”

“Red tape, writing up report after report for bureaucrat after bureaucrat, they’re more perceptive than you give them credit for. However, I don’t believe I asked about them, I believe I asked after you.”

“I think cleaning up this mess while trying to go about life with an international criminal potentially out for my blood is a fitting punishment for my failings.”

~~~

“I get it. We’re a family, and it’s important that families talk, and holding it in will just make this sick, sad feeling of awfulness more awful,” Garcia said, “right?”

Hotch allowed himself a brief upturn of his lips at her rambling before sobering up. “Internalizing does make it worse,” he agreed.

“I’ll talk, but I don’t want to talk about her being gone,” Garcia said softly. “Can I talk about how she made me smile?”

A pang shot through Hotch’s heart at her hopeful question as he thought back on the close relationship the women had with each other.

“Of course.”

~~~

“The last time I was on a couch like this was when my father left,” Reid mused quietly. “They all thought I needed to talk, but developmentally I wasn’t guided by conscience—I could only reveal what my mother and my teachers told me was acceptable.”

“You told them exactly what they wanted to hear,” Hotch summed up, not showing just how much that hit home. “You don’t have to do that here. Yell, curse at me, whatever you need to do.”

The genius swallowed. “It’s just unfair that she’s gone,” he said, barely holding back tears. “It’s like if we can’t keep each other safe, then why are we even doing any of this?”

Hotch remained silent as Reid continued. “It’s… sometimes I think maybe—maybe Gideon was right, you know. Maybe…” he trailed off, staring into space. “Maybe it’s just not worth it.”

~~~

Morgan sighed, leaning back on the couch. “So I came in here to do what? Talk about losing Emily?” He shook his head when he received no answer. “Strauss put you up to this?”

“The assessment’s routine,” Hotch finally said. “I asked her to let me do it rather than bring in somebody from the outside. Thought it might be preferred, even with my role in this mess.”

“So let me guess—it’s about the five stages of grief,” Morgan let out a breath. “You want to figure out where we all are.”

Hotch looked at him expectantly, remaining silent, much to Morgan’s annoyance.

“All right,” Morgan said, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his knees. “Denial. I’m fine, this can’t be happening to me—well it didn’t happen to me, did it?” he started. “So that rules that out. What else is there—bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. Well, obviously, I haven’t accepted it, otherwise I wouldn’t be in here,” he looked at Hotch. “So where does that leave me?”

“Angry.”

“Angry,” he repeated. “Yeah. Yeah, sometimes I feel like I want to quit my job and spend my time chasing down the son of a bitch who killed Emily. You’re damn right I’m angry,” he declared, anger pouring out of every word before he deflated.

“Sixty seconds,” Morgan breathed out, shaking his head in self-recrimination. “If I had gotten there sixty seconds earlier, Emily might still be with us.”

“Derek, you know that you did everything you could—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I did everything I could. We all did. I know,” he snapped. “What, that’s supposed to make me feel better?”

“You protected each other for years, don’t expect this to go away anytime soon,” Hotch told him.

“This what? This—this guilt?”

“Just because you were the last one there doesn’t mean that you could affect the outcome,” Hotch said. “We all wish we had that kind of control.”

“So what do we do, we just chalk it up to fate?” Morgan looked at Hotch incredulously. “What, I can’t blame anybody? What, this is the will of God? No. I do blame somebody, I blame Doyle.”

At a loss, Hotch remained silent, hiding the guilt that threatened to swallow him in the face of Morgan’s grief.

“Hotch, what am I supposed to do?” Morgan finally asked, voice breaking. “I lost my friend right in front of me, and I’m supposed to go on like nothing happened?” He shook his head, taking in a shuddering breath. “You know, we—we come in here, and we talk to you,” he turned to Hotch and asked, “Where do you go?”

Hotch glanced down as Morgan continued, “Where are you with all this?”

“Same place as you,” the unit chief looked back up, a mutual understanding passing between them. “Wishing she was here.”

~~~

“There are benefits to meeting after hours,” Rossi commented, raising his glass of scotch and taking a drink.

Hotch looked down at his own glass. “You know everybody’s feeling it, and nobody wants to talk about it.”

“It’s too soon, Aaron. You know that better than anyone,” the older profiler sent him a look. “And, uh, doesn’t Strauss usually run these assessments?”

“There was no way that was going to happen,” Hotch said firmly to Rossi’s brief chuckle.

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” he said, as Hotch took a long drink out of his own glass. “And I also know that you grieve privately. But,” Rossi paused, looking at him solemnly, “you’ve been through more than any of us in a very short time. How are you holding up?”

“I’m all right,” Hotch repeated three words that had become a mantra, briefly glancing at Rossi. “I think it’s an ongoing process,” he said, thinking about the mess he was buried under after the events of the past year.

“This is not my assessment,” he looked at Rossi in reproach, “I’m supposed to be asking how you’re doing.”

A corner of Rossi’s lips briefly tilted up before he looked back down as he thought about what to say. “I’ve always had trouble letting people in,” he began slowly and shook his head. “But this is different. I guess I’ve come to realize… I’m more married to this team than I ever was to three ex-wives.” They shared a brief moment of amusement as his quip.

“It’s been a hard year,” Hotch finally said quietly. “We’ll get through it.”

“Yeah, we will,” Rossi agreed, lifting his glass in a toast. “Emily and Haley.”

Hotch raised his own, the two lapsing into heavy silence.

~~~

I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I’m sorry I’m sorrysorrysorry—

He threw the blanket off himself and got up from where he was laying on the couch to walk over to his desk, glancing out into the dark bullpen as he went. He sat down and started going through the stack of unfinished reports in an attempt to ward off the thoughts that have plagued him since that painful day two months ago.

I’ve failed you, Blackbird.

I hope you’re safe out there.

~~~

“Believe me, everyone who tried to save him that day isn’t going to forget. It’s the day they failed. They’ll ask themselves what they could have done—could they have gotten there sooner? They’ll heal, but it’s going to take time. They’ll move on, but they won’t forget.”

~~~

“Over the next few weeks, each of you is going to be asked if you’d like to stay with the unit,” Hotch informed them.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Reid asked, confused.

“There are other options for you out there,” Hotch answered. “And while I want the unit to stay together, I understand completely if you want to see what the alternatives are. Morgan, there’s renewed interest in you from the New York office.”

Morgan looked surprised. “Nobody’s called me.”

“They will.”

“That doesn’t mean I’m going to go,” he said slowly.

“Oh, I know,” Hotch said evenly.

“Are you staying here?” Seaver asked Hotch.

“It’s my intention to,” but we’ll have to see what happens with Doyle. He felt Rossi’s eyes land on him, knowing that the man would have caught his careful word choice.

Either way, there’s a high chance I’m going to be overseas soon.

~~~

“Has he ever left before us?”

“He technically isn’t leaving—he’s still in danger and doesn’t have the luxury of going into hiding, so he’s been rotating through the Academy dorms.”

“Jack?”

“He’s been staying with the Brooks family. Hotch implemented as many security measures as he could and has been visiting as often as he can.”

~~~

“Hotchner.”

“Hey, it’s me,” Morgan’s voice came over the phone. “How’s it going out there?”

“Got to Pakistan a few days ago, so far long days, some territorial issues to work out, nothing surprising,” Hotch answered, straining to hear Morgan over the helicopters whirring overhead. “How’s everything there?”

“Hotch, we found Declan Doyle.”

“What?”

“Listen, I knew finding the kid was the only way I could find Doyle,” Hotch was silent, mind immediately straying to the potential ramifications. “I know what you’re thinking, man.”

“Is Declan safe?” he finally settled on asking.

“Yeah, he is for now. I’ve had surveillance at his house and his school for a few weeks.”

“Morgan, I didn’t authorize this—”

“I know you didn’t, Hotch, but listen to me. I think Doyle may have found Declan, too.”

Hotch shook his head. “All right, I’m coming back.”

“You want me to wait?” Morgan asked incredulously.

“Morgan, fixated on his son as he may be, Doyle is still incredibly smart and meticulous,” Hotch reminded. “You make sure you have eyes on Doyle from all angles. If you take him alive, keep him under constant surveillance and limit his contact with other people, even if they’re our own.”

~~~

“Prissy, Doyle’s in custody and under constant watch. You can come out of whatever hole you’ve crawled into.”

“Dare I ask how you got to him?”

“I’m still in Pakistan, I didn’t do anything. The team took care of it.”

~~~

<<Time to come back, Blackbird.

>>You got V?

<<Looking for his K.

>>I just got a call from K’s caretaker. What happened?

>>Iceman.

<<K disappeared

~~~

“Welcome back, sir.”

“Thank you,” Hotch turned around to see the brightly-dressed analyst hurrying towards him with a folder under her arm. “What have you got?”

“A top-ten list of Doyle’s enemies.”

“Anybody recently in the States?” he looked through, recognizing the names.

“Richard Gerace’s been here a few weeks,” she answered. “He’s a low-level gun-runner who angrily crossed paths with Doyle. I caught an image of him on the surveillance camera at Declan’s house and confirmed it was him through a scar on his neck. Have you come across him before?” Garcia asked, referring to his time with JTF.

“I don’t think so,” Hotch shook his head. “Get me everything you can on Gerace.”

“Yeah,” Garcia hesitated, “what I just told you is everything I’ve got.” Hotch nodded and briskly walked around her out of the conference room.

He made his way to where they were holding Doyle and walked up to the window next to Rossi.

“Well, that’s a good look,” Rossi commented on his beard. Hotch allowed a brief smile to appear on his face while he texted Morgan, who was inside with Doyle. “How was the desert?”

“Hot,” Hotch replied shortly, still able to feel sand in his combat boots and the sun beating down on his back.

“Doyle’s here, so have you seen Jack yet?”

“No, Jessica took him on a road trip, they’re at Hershey Park right now,” Hotch said, still occupied with his messaging.

“Well, he’ll love that beard,” Rossi looked over at him.

“Yeah, we skyped every day,” Hotch said dryly, looking back at the older man. “He’s not a fan.”

~~~

>>C just called to check in. On the way right now.

<<See you in a bit

>>If I survive the others

<<Blackbird, I made this decision, I am responsible for this. It’s my burden to bear, but I’d do it all over again if it means having you alive.

<<Oh, and J came back fourteen weeks ago. As a profiler, now.

>>What? And you’re just telling me this now?

<<Didn’t find out until I got somewhere with secure service, and that was a week ago.

<<We’ve really missed you.

~~~

“Welcome back,” Morgan greeted Hotch.

“Thanks,” Hotch said, steeling himself. “Everybody, have a seat.”

The profilers looked at him strangely. “Why?” Morgan asked. “What’s going on? Everything all right?”

“Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team,” Hotch crossed his arms. “As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle, but the doctors were able to stabilize her and she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration.”

He continued on, watching as different emotions appeared on the teams’ faces as they realized what he was saying. “I called Clyde and we met with the brass while she was being flown over, and it was decided that her identity was strictly need-to-know, and she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. Given the danger Doyle posed, she was reassigned to Paris, where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”

“She’s alive?” Garcia asked, hopeful shock clear in her voice. Hotch’s silence spoke volumes.

“But we buried her,” Reid said, uncomprehending.

Hotch looked directly at Morgan. “As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision, and if anyone has any issues, they should be directed towards me.”

“Any issues?” Morgan repeated in angry incredulity. “Yeah, I got issues,” he trailed off when he noticed the others looking behind him.

“Oh my god,” Garcia breathed, tears rolling down her face at the sight of Emily Prentiss in the doorway. She stood up and rushed over, enveloping the woman in a careful hug, as if she were going to disappear.

“I am so sorry,” Emily said, as the analyst let go of her so Reid could take her place. “I really am. Not a day went by that I didn’t want to…” she trailed off, catching sight of Morgan’s expression. “Really, I—” she approached him, hoping he’ll understand, “you didn’t deserve that, and I’m so sorry.”

She leaned in, hugging him tightly as Morgan slowly returned the hug through his shock. They stayed like that for a few moments before she backed away and turned to the others. “There’s so much I want to tell you guys, and I will, I promise, but right now I really need to know what’s going on with Declan,” she said, walking to stand next to Hotch and JJ.

“Emily, was there a man living at the house?” Reid pushed forward to ask.

“Yes, my friend Tom Koehler, he was raising Declan as his own.”

“Where is he?” JJ asked from the side.

“I never saw him go in or out of that house,” Garcia told her.

“He was on assignment overseas,” Emily said.

“But he’s all right?” JJ checked.

“Yes,” Emily confirmed, “He’s on his way back now. He got a call from Declan, he called me, and Hotch texted me just moments later telling me you had Doyle in custody.”

“And because of Tom’s line of work, that’s why you enrolled Declan in a boarding school,” Hotch said.

“I made sure that he, Louise, and I were the only ones allowed to take him off campus.”

“Louise took him home last night because he was sick,” Reid told her.

“Food poisoning,” Hotch interjected.

“Yeah, a few of the kids had it, apparently, so whoever did this got to him on campus. They knew they only had one chance.”

“Current suspect is Richard Gerace,” JJ said, “he’s the most recent arrival into the states. We’ve been tracking his progress through the city, but we came up empty.”

“We know it’s him because he has the scar,” Garcia added.

“That doesn’t make sense, Gerace gave up on Doyle a long time ago,” Emily stated.

Rossi spoke up, “He said you were the only one who knew Gerace.”

“Which is why I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have the balls to pull this off,” she said. “There was no forced entry at the house?”

“I had two agents working security,” Morgan said.

“We think Gerace and his partner pose as the next shift, and one of the agents was a woman,” Reid told her.

Emily’s response came quick. “She’s the alpha.”

“So we’re looking for a woman who’s getting back at Doyle,” JJ summarized.

“Well, our suspect list just got a whole lot longer,” Hotch remarked, exchanging a sardonic look with Emily, who nodded in agreement.

~~~

“Is Strauss still there?” Hotch asked over the phone, striding outside towards the parked SUVs.

“She is.”

“We need full support.”

“Doyle said McDermott’s family imported weapons to a private airfield in Maryland,” Emily said.

“Close?”

“Largo.”

“All right, send me the coordinates. Oh, and Emily?” Hotch added.

“Yeah?”

“It’s good to have you back, Blackbird.”

~~~

“Hotch, are we really going to do this?” Morgan’s voice came over his earpiece.

“No one leaves here,” Hotch said firmly into his mic, keeping a careful eye on the proceedings.

~~~

“Iceman.”

“Blackbird,” Hotch returned as Emily approached him at the side of the conference room, having escaped the others’ excitement at her return. He looked her up and down, taking in the welcome sight before pulling her into a tight hug. The others fell silent, watching them clutch to each other like a lifeline in an embrace that spoke of a deep familiarity.

“You did all that you could,” she told him quietly, as their grip on each other loosened slightly, “thank you.”

A few traitorous tears slipped out of his eyes, which he had squeezed shut. Hotch kept his head at the crook of her neck, taking in the familiar warmth that reassured him of her presence.

“It’s so good to see you.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #bau #fanfic #david rossi #derek morgan #spencer reid #penelope garcia #hurt #sodone glass is fragile

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kim-seungmine · 6 years ago

Text

when it’s past midnight

title: when it’s past midnight (FINISHED!)

characters: reader x han jisung of stray kids

genre: slice-of-life (the genre of my lyfe), romance, radio DJ au, college au

warning: cursing, drinking, i aged up the characters a little bit, IMAGINE JISUNG HOSTING A RADIO SHOW WITH THAT VOICE OF HIS

word count: 5.6k+

synopsis: han jisung is lost but he found you--who are hiding and don’t want to be found.

a/n: i love han jisung and his voice. that’s all.

Han Jisung fell in love.

It shouldn’t be a problem. It should be a blessing, even, but not when he didn’t know what to do with his life. Not when he was a disappointment, both to himself and the world. Two years ago he wouldn’t even imagine himself saying this, but army was probably better than real life. Being away from the university for two years did cause him to forget literally everything he studied, but when he was there, it was fine. He would meet his friends to talk about it, and his seniors would give them advice. The cycle repeated for his whole service and during that time, he believed everything would be fine.

Now that he was back, it felt different. He felt lost, and his friends who shared the same struggle were now pretending to do better than they actually were. Jisung was lost, but he was also in love. He wasn’t even sure if love was the right word, he just hoped that you would give him a chance.

What the hell are you talking about?

In the middle of all the mess, there was one thing he believed.

Jisung loved you, maybe not right from the start but now, he was sure he loved you. And it all started a minute after midnight.

October 2017

“So you’re not coming back? What the hell man, we’ve told others that you’ll return!” Woojin deadpanned as Felix let out a dejected sigh. “I thought you would consider coming back,” he said. Jisung shrugged, ready to shove cliche reasons to his friends before getting a genius idea.

“Hey,” he began. “Can I host with your current DJ? They are amazing and I definitely don’t want to replace them. But can you please let me host with them? Just to say goodbye, for old time’s sake.”

Jisung suddenly felt so excited. Why hadn’t he thought about this before? He was completely away by the way you carried the broadcast, by how you conveyed your thoughts, and by the sound of your laugh (but nobody needed to know). He wanted to meet you just this once while saying goodbye to the thing that he probably loved the most.

“I don’t know, Jisung. Y/N has already submitted the script for today’s broadcast last night—”

“Unlike you who submit scripts 2 hours before broadcast.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Felix.”

Woojin raised his hand, effectively shutting Jisung and Felix up. “I planned to add one more show for When It’s Past Midnight because we’ve been getting good reviews, even from the lecturers. In fact, the faculty is willing to give us more budget,” he informed. “I want you and Y/N to host on different days, but if your decision is final—”

“You’ll let me host with them, right?”

“Will anyone let me finish talking?!”

“Sorry.”

Woojin rolled his eyes, not bothering to continue and just went straight to the recording room. “Hey,” he called out. He looked unsure of himself, which was something new because he was that type of leader who always exuded confidence and wisdom. “What is it?” you asked as Jisung pushed him inside.

You frowned upon seeing Jisung, while he tried to remember if he had seen you before. He noticed that you took a glance at the framed photo of Woojin, Felix, and Jisung on the wall before you realized that this was Han Jisung himself. Well, he still looked pretty much the same, except his hair was no longer blond.

“Jisung is back, and he missed the radio so much. Would you mind if he hosts together with you?” Woojin continued, nudging Jisung to introduce himself to you. “But I thought I was his replacement?” you reminded him.

Jisung extended his hand to you, and he was pleasantly surprised with how firm your handshake was. He hated people who gave half-hearted handshakes although strong handshakes couldn’t guarantee that someone wouldn’t be an asshole.

“I listened to the show last night, and man you’re so good at this! The listeners love you. I wouldn’t want to change that,” he praised. “I just want to co-host with you once—for old time’s sake—and then I’m out. Gotta catch up with all my classes.”

You looked at Woojin who still seemed conflicted. “See, Y/N, I know you’ve prepared everything for tonight and having Jisung here changes everything, but is it okay with you if he’s joining the broadcast today?”

“The original DJ for ‘When It’s Past Midnight’ is here, how can I not let him?” You smiled, patting the empty seat beside you. Jisung sat down immediately, giving Woojin a smug look. “See? Nobody can resist me,” he boasted.

Woojin rolled his eyes. “Y/N’s just being polite. Just finish quickly and go back to studying. Nobody remembers you anyways.”

You passed Jisung your script as Felix knocked on the glass. “We’re starting in 10, 9, 8, 7 secs!” he half-yelled.

The show’s theme song—Woojin composed it himself—played in the background. Jisung wore his headphones, tapping his hands on the table according to the beat. He looked like fish in his natural habitat no matter how much he tried to deny how comfortable he was with all of this.

“When it’s past midnight, your mind runs wild and wonders if there’s someone out there who’s willing to listen to you. That person is me Y/N and today we have a special guest.”

Jisung smiled, winking at Woojin and Felix who were overseeing everything before talking into the mic. “Hello, I’m Han Jisung, the previous DJ of When It’s Past Midnight.” The comments on the show’s website turned wild as Jisung spoke.

“Since Jisung is here,” you continued, pushing away your script as a new idea popped up of your mind. “It’s only appropriate to talk about the magic of reunion. Do you have someone, or people you wish to reunite with? Or do reunions remind you of painful things that happened in the past?”

“And last but not least, shoot Jisung some questions. I’m sure everyone misses him.” He glared at you, mouthing a shy “NOO!”

You proceeded to read the comments, chuckling at some of them before choosing one question. “Y/N and Jisung, what are the things you want to know the most about someone when you’re about to meet them after a long time?”

Jisung let you answer first. “Well, I’m going to be totally honest here,” you started. “I’m never really curious about other people. I only think about myself and hope that I won’t be the one with the most miserable life among them.”

You shrugged at Jisung who was looking at you in amusement. “I don’t need to be the best. As long as I’m not the worst then I’ll be going to reunions at ease.”

“Do you stalk your friends first? On social media? To make sure that you won’t be the most pathetic one?” he asked. You sipped your water, shaking your head at him before putting your glass on the table. “Looking at their social media will definitely make me feel pathetic.”

“Why?”

“I only upload photos of skies and food. That basically means I have no life.”

He laughed, pulling out his phone out of his pocket and handed it to you. “I want to see more of that and insult you,” he said.

You typed your Instagram handle, leaving Jisung to scroll through all the “Is Jisung flirting?” “JUST DATE YOU TWO!!” comments. He chuckled at some of them, looking collected while your cheeks were slowly turning pink.

“Alright it’s my turn now!” he exclaimed. “Sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t think much about other people either. If I decide to go to a reunion, that means I just simply want to meet them.”

You nodded, giving him a thumbs up. “Carefree and confident. You’re the definition of teenage dream,” you commented. Jisung didn’t respond, leaving a somewhat awkward silence in the air. Felix tapped on the glass door again as you tapped his shoulder, causing him to jolt in his seat.

“See this is why I want to try co-host with you!” he suddenly said, too fast and too cheerful. “You really have a way with words, Y/N. Saying pretty words is one thing. You wrap those pretty words with a ribbon called facts.”

Both Felix and Woojin pretended to bang the glass door and made vomiting faces while you just grimaced at him.

“You’re not so bad yourself, Han Jisung-ssi.”

“Why are you still here?” Woojin asked. The broadcast had ended an hour ago but you, Woojin and Felix had a little meeting to discuss your schedule. Jisung had planned to go home right after the broadcast, but then he heard you laughing at Felix’s joke and suddenly he didn’t want to leave.

“Where’s Y/N?”

You and Felix exited the building together, with you laughing at Felix’s words for the countless time that night. Was Felix that funny? Or did you laugh a lot in general? Did you like Felix? All these burning questions made him feel uneasy that he almost walked away.

Woojin snorted at his hardening face, but turned around to wave at Felix. “Oy Yongbok! Let’s go! We’re gonna be late!”

Jisung was surprised not to see Felix rolling his eyes at the mention of his birth name. Some things have changed after all. “It’s 2A.M, what are we possibly late for?” Felix asked, but Woojin already grabbed him by his backpack, pulling him away from you. “We have projects to do, Y/N. Sorry we can’t walk with you today,” Woojin explained, yanking Felix’s backpack harder when the latter wanted to question him. “But Jisung lives around your neighborhood. You can definitely go with him.”

You looked confused, but still nodded at Woojin before fixating your eyes on Jisung. “Let’s go?” you said. Jisung nodded, mentally cursing himself for being at loss for words. Why was it so hard to be his usual self with you? He was known for his capability to adapt to any environment, to escape any tight situation with merely three words.

“How does it feel to be back?”

Jisung blinked. Your question sounded basic, but nobody had ever asked him that since he returned. What people wanted to know was how it felt like at the army and what his future plans were. Woojin and Felix didn’t even ask questions, but he supposed that was because they pretty much knew how he felt and waited for him to confide in his feelings himself.

Your simple question tugged at his heartstrings. Why, he had no idea. Not even the slightest.

“It feels good, I guess. I’ve missed everyone… except Woojin and Felix, I saw them a lot during my breaks.” You chuckled, shoving your hands into the pocket of your jeans as Jisung checked his phone to read all the messages Felix and Woojin sent on the group chat.

None of you said anything for the rest of the journey, but for once, Jisung didn’t mind silence. He usually hated it, silence made him feel all awkward and on edge. But you didn’t seem to mind either so he stayed quiet, not wanting to scare you off with his—quoting Felix—explosive mouth.

“It must be kind of confusing,” you suddenly muttered. You blushed a little when Jisung raised his eyebrows at you. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume things. We barely know each other after all.” You shrugged, quickening your pace a little bit.

Jisung followed suit so he could walk beside you again. “No, it’s okay. What did you say?” You hesitated, but he nudged your arm, encouraging you to repeat. “It must be kind of confusing to suddenly return to your daily life no matter how many vacation days you got,” you commented.

Your tone was soft, not judgmental or disapproving. There wasn’t any hint of pity in your voice, and it made Jisung’s heart swell. You managed to touch his heart twice in a span of fifteen minutes, it had to mean something.

“Yeah,” he finally answered. “I do feel little bit lost now.”

You only nodded, giving him a faint smile that was enough to make him dream of you tonight. When the two of you reached an intersection, you stopped. “I’m going that way.” You pointed at your right. “I’m that way.” Jisung pointed at the direction opposite yours.

“So, I’ll see you tomorrow?” he said, sounding more hopeful that he would like it to be.

“Tomorrow?”

Jisung scratched the back of his head, secretly liking the way your eyes widen at his statement.

“Yeah. I’m stuck with Woojin and Felix anyways. I guess we’ll be seeing each other a lot,” he answered.

You smiled again, wider this time, before turning on your heels and walked away. Jisung knew he was supposed to go as well, but he decided to stay a bit, watching your back serenely. He panicked when you stopped walking, but then you turned around. You let out a small squeal when you found him standing there as if you didn’t expect him to be.

“It’s not just you,” you told him. “We are all lost.”

Jisung frowned when he realized that his phone battery was only 10%. He swore it was still 70% when he went to sleep, just what on Earth happened that caused his phone to be dying (besides the fact that he did need to buy a new phone)? Jisung opened his Instagram, bewildered to see so many new people following his account over the night.

Curious, he opened one of his photos that people commented on. It was a photo of him right before he enlisted. “This is that radio DJ @s_ryuddaeng,” someone said. Another comment read, “I found you!”

He took a screenshot of his Instagram notifications and sent it to Woojin and Felix.

daramjisung: what the hell happened

[daramjisung sent a picture]

felixnotcat: you blew up, thats what

[kim woojin sent a picture]

kim woojin: your numbers are nothing lol look at how many ppl followed wipm

daramjisung: damn

felixnotcat: this aint dating show ppl should chill

felixnotcat: but you and y/n are damn cute tho

daramjisung: ?????

Jisung decided to check When It’s Past Midnight’s account and looked at the comments. The broadcast’s listeners had grown a lot since it first started, but last night definitely set a new record. It seemed like everyone liked your and Jisung’s chemistry, and now they were demanding that both of you continued hosting together.

kim woojin: speaking of y/n did you score a date yet

daramjisung: we only walked home together

felixnotcat: lame

kim woojin: this is why you never get laid you never seize the fuckin moment

daramjisung: get lost

This wasn’t the first time Felix or Woojin played matchmaker for him, but Jisung hated it whenever it happened. He had two reasons: one, it never actually worked. Two, it was always goddamn obvious.

When he entered the class Felix forced him to join, Jisung immediately sighed even though his eyes twinkled with delight upon seeing you. You were sitting on fifth row, chatting with a girl pink ombre hair (“It’s call ‘hidden colors’ you moron, ombre isn’t always on the outer tips of the hair,” Felix informed) and a boy with pretty eyes. Felix marched towards you first, giving you a high-five before pointing at Jisung’s direction.

“Hi,” you said sheepishly when he dropped his bag on the seat in front of you. You introduced your friends to him, Shin Ryujin and Lee Minho. Minho jabbed your ribs and Jisung knew that jab meant: “Sit with him!” You mouthed profanities at him, which shut him up—but not Ryujin.

“Felix,” she whined. “You’re good in Calculus. Please explain this to me.”

So Woojin and Felix weren’t the only ones playing matchmakers after all.

“Sure!” he answered. “Come see me at lunch, I’ll explain the whole thing to you.”

Ryujin gritted her teeth as Jisung snorted. No offense, but sometimes Felix could be really dumb.

“I mean, now. During lessons. Why would I discuss Calculus at lunch? Switch with Y/N.”

You glared at her. “Why me? Move, Minho.”

Whatever code Ryujin sent to Felix through her eyes seemed to work, since now the latter was beyond excited to switch seats with you. “I can borrow him for a while, right?” she asked Jisung, who just nodded nonchalantly. He then turned to you while Minho forcefully put your things back into your bag. “I’m bad with numbers so I hope you don’t mind sitting with me,” he joked.

Jisung scooted over to give you space as you quietly sat beside him. You opened your pencil case, and a certain orange object attracted Jisung’s attention. “You like Gudetama?” he whispered, taking the Gudetama pen which totally stood out in your case since everything else was either black or white.

“Yeah.” You scratched your head, feeling somehow exposed. “Why?”

“You look like you’d despise shit like this.”

“Gudetama is the shit. The only exception in this dark abyss called life.”

He laughed, nodding rapidly as he swirled the pen with his fingers. “Will you let me borrow your half-boiled egg today?”

“Jisung that sounds so wrong.”

“Hey you’re the one who’s using this huge ass pen you can barely hold!”

January 2018

When he was a kid, Jisung wanted to be an astronaut. However, he soon realized that having big dreams wasn’t as easy as making them come true. During high school, he met Felix who liked writing and curiosity got the best of him. He tried writing as well, and eventually fell in love with the power of words.

He only realized then that he had so many things to say; he wanted to talk about the government, his family, his friends, soccer players, cool rappers, even alien abduction theories. But the thing he wanted to talk about the most was struggles. He wanted to help people, he wanted to make himself feel better.

It sounded amazing. Heroic. But once again, his dream seemed too big to come true. He had expectations to fulfill, he had the entire society judging him, and he had this burden of making it before even starting.

This was why Jisung quit being a DJ. He knew that sooner or later, he had to let it go. His family would banish him if he told them that he wanted to be a radio DJ. Not even an announcer, but a radio DJ. His friends would look down on him although they were only holding small positions in big companies, because being a small part in a big thing was still more prestigious rather than being a big part in a small thing.

“Hi there, squirrel.”

You poked Jisung’s arm, causing him to fix his gaze on you. He grinned, something he did very often whenever you were in sight. This had been his habit for a few months: he would wait for you outside the recording room to walk home with you.

You only became better and better in hosting, but Jisung noticed the lack of sparks in your eyes these days.

“Ready to go home?”

“You’re not waiting for Woojin and Felix?”

Felix shouted, “Yeah asshole! You’re not waiting for us?!”

Jisung only replied with a middle finger as he ushered you to go. You giggled, shaking your head in amusement. “We should hang out together sometime.”

“We went to class together, we went home together, we visited that art exhibition last week, I asked you to accompany me in the library yesterday, I went to that new cat café with you yesterday. You didn’t count all of that as hanging out?! I’m hurt Y/N.”

“You sure talk a lot.” You laughed, shuddering as the cold air grazed your skin. “I mean you, me, Woojin, Felix, Ryujin and Minho.”

Jisung laughed along with you, cursing at his own stupidity. “If that’s the case, then yeah. We definitely should.”

“Have you been sleeping okay?”

You heaved a sigh, hands automatically touching your prominent eyebags. “You noticed,” you mumbled. Jisung had never seen you like this with him. Most of the time, you were too careful, like you were afraid people would leave if you ever told them anything about you.

But the you that he knew, was beyond beautiful. You loved animals, an avid fan of Gossip Girl, sometimes went to the bookstore just to read some books instead of buying them. You listened to everything he said, no matter how many hours he spent talking about movies and guitar. You cared about the world although you never wanted to admit it.

He always wondered why you wanted to hide yourself from the world while he desperately wanted everyone to know who he was.

“I joined the radio club only because I had insomnia. And Woojin promised me that I only needed to reveal my name, not even my major,” you shared. “But I think I enjoyed it more than I want to admit.”

“It’s been hard these days,” you confessed. “Since I hosted with you, so many people requested to follow me on Instagram. They never wanted to know who I was before. I don’t know if it’s because of you—and don’t worry I’m not blaming you or anything—but it scared the hell out of me.”

Jisung took your hand in his when he saw you shivering. He put it inside his pocket casually, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb. “You don’t like people recognizing you?” he asked, feeling relieved when you didn’t take your hand back.

“Ryujin and Minho didn’t even know about this,” you said. “They never listened to When It’s Past Midnight until some people from our batch asked them if I was the host. They were so mad when they found out.”

“Anyways, Ryujin thinks you’re cute.”

Jisung chuckled, tightening his grip on your hand as you were nearing the intersection you usually parted at. “People love you, Y/N. And maybe being with someone else only made you shine even brighter.”

“There are a lot of things I’ve shared during the broadcasts. Only those small, insignificant details, but I feel bare now,” you said. “I sound good on air. I sound smart on air. I sound vulnerable on air. And I want to keep it that way.”

“But you’re even better in real life,” Jisung interrupted, stopping you from walking further. He took your hands out of his pocket, gripping your shoulders so that you would look at him. “You don’t have even the slightest idea about how wonderful you are, do you?”

You blinked, heat rushing to your cheeks as Jisung slowly cradled your cheeks with his warm hands. He struggled to continue, you were so close that he could count your lashes. You were beautiful like this, even when you weren’t sure of yourself. His eyes flickered to your slightly opened lips, and he had to yell at himself in his head to stop himself from kissing the life out of you.

Because you were so perfect, so precious—like you were specially made for him and him only, but he couldn’t be that person for you.

Jisung remembered the mess that was his life, the endless dark tunnel he was stuck in. When you eventually removed his hands from your cheeks, he didn’t resist. When you walked away, he didn’t stop you. When you didn’t look back, he started crying.

That night, he realized something.

He, Han Jisung, had fallen in love.

February 2018

minhot: be there in a sec

minhot: youre buying tonight, man bc y/n will end me and ryujin after this

minhot: why couldnt you just ask them to meet you directly

You announced your departure from When It’s Past Midnight it last night, causing the broadcast to be on halt until the club found someone new. Woojin and Felix only told him after your announcement, saying that they did their best to persuade you to stay.

He hadn’t met you for a month. After that night, he stopped contacting you, and you stopped talking to him in class. Jisung knew he was being a coward, but after what happened last night, he had to talk to you.

The door was pushed open, revealing you, Ryujin and Minho. Minho bumped into Ryujin who immediately stopped on her tracks at something you said. “Come on, Y/N, don’t be like that. It’s not a big deal,” he said, holding in his nose in pain. “Jesus Christ you have the strongest skull in the whole world. I’ve bumped into people’s heads so many times but this is the most painful—”

“Hey, is this really bothering you?” Ryujin cut him off. “I mean, it’s not like everyone’s judging you for what you said during your shows. In fact they’re all admiring you.”

You shook your head as Minho continued grumbling about your “fucking ridiculous” decision and Ryujin’s “goddamn hard” skull.

“Yeah, for now. If I continue, I’m sure they’ll find something to slander me with. I want none of that,” you explained.

“Alright,” Minho said. “We can’t force you. But even if people are swearing at you, please know that Ryujin and I can swear even better compared to them.”

“We’ll chew them out,” Ryujin agreed. “We’re not friends for nothing.”

Minho finally managed to locate Jisung, who had chosen a table in the corner of the restaurant. You froze, but Minho had wrapped his arm around your shoulder and forced you to walk. “Hey guys.” Jisung waved at Ryujin before setting his eyes on you.

“Auntie, give us a bottle of soju please,” he ordered as you sat awkwardly beside him. He missed you so much and wanted to hug you so bad, being so close to you without being able to even look at you properly was killing him.

“How have you been?” Jisung asked, pouring soju into his own glass before filling yours. You faked a smile, your hand snatching Ryujin’s glass from her. “You can’t drink. Don’t even bother,” you warned, passing her glass to Minho who quickly put it on another table.

“Why did you quit?”

Jisung wished he waited, but that question had escaped his mouth before you could register what was happening. “You don’t have any right to ask me that, Jisung,” you snapped. “I can do whatever I want. None of you can change my decision. If I feel suffocated with all this so-called attention people give me, then it’s my problem. If I feel uncomfortable with all of this, then it’s also my problem.”

“But we also know how much you love When It’s Past Midnight,” Jisung countered. “Why would you let go the thing that you love the most?”

You stood up, ignoring Ryujin’s pleas to calm down. “Really? Out of all people, you’re really asking me that, Han Jisung? Can you even answer that question?”

“You’re too afraid to even try making your dream come true. Don’t you dare lecturing me!” You took a sharp breath, downing your soju in one go. “You should say all the things you said to me to yourself.”

“You also don’t have even the slightest idea about how wonderful you are.”

Jisung stood in front of your door, ringing the bell for the fifth time. You finally opened the door, sighing as you saw him. “Go home, Jisung.”

“Are you sure?”

“100% sure. How many times—”

“No you’re not. You want me here.”

Jisung didn’t know where he got the bravery to say that to you, so he decided to commit the second brave action for the night, which was pulling you into his embrace. Warmth rushed through his body as he felt you slowly relax at his touch. “Why are you being so hard on yourself, hmm?” he asked, more to himself than you.

He walked you towards your couch, still holding you close. Jisung pulled you to sit on his lap. “I bet you haven’t slept for days. So I’m going to hug you to sleep,” he mumbled against your shoulder. “Sleep, okay? We’ll talk tomorrow.”

Jisung smiled when you closed your eyes. He started telling you about anecdotes from the military, sometimes laughing at himself when he recalled something funny. He didn’t say anything about the disaster that just happened less than two hours ago. “I’m sorry,” he said when he heard your soft snore. “Please give me a chance.”

A few hours later, Jisung was asleep on the floor, his head leaning on your arm while his hand was holding yours. Maybe he was dreaming, but he felt your fingers brushing his hair. The feeling made him want to cry, you had no idea how much he missed you. “Ow ow ow,” he winced as he tried to fix his position.

“Hi there,” you muttered, brushing away his bangs. Jisung examined your face and grinned, happy to see you less tired. “Do you still want to sleep? Should I carry you to your bedroom?”

You sat up, stretching your limbs carefully so you wouldn’t smack him. “Do you want to sleep in my room? It must hurt sleeping like that the whole night,” you offered. Jisung shook his head, patting his waist nonchalantly as he stood up. He moved to sit beside you, not letting go of your hand during the entire process. “Well, this is awkward,” you voiced out. “I slept well, thank you. You really didn’t have to do that.”

“I wanted to,” Jisung answered. “And you really should give yourself more credits.”

“What do you mean?”

“You slept well not because I was here, but because you told us how you’ve been feeling. Because you finally opened up, and that’s a huge thing.”

He took a deep breath, lifting your intertwined hands. “But I know you being head over heels for me also helped so yeah, good job to me!”

“I didn’t mean to yell at you like that. I’m sorry,” you apologized. “After everyone found out who I am I felt somehow bare. I’m not used to that. Especially with you. I’m not used to baring my feelings to someone I barely know. And the fact that I really loved being with you...,” you trailed off.

Jisung squeezed your hand, pulling you closer to him. “It’s okay. And you were right, I didn’t have any right to say that to you, especially with how I’ve been acting.” He heaved a sigh, locking eyes with you. “I want to start making my dreams come true, and being with you is one of them. I really, really love you.”

“Okay,” you answered.

Jisung pretended to act shock. “Just okay? Where’s my ‘yes Jisung I love you so much’?”

“You’re such a dork.” You flicked his forehead playfully. “But I love you.”

“Oh yeah?” Jisung challenged. “I bet a dork won’t be able to do this.”

He closed the gap between you, capturing your lips in a kiss that had been long overdue. Jisung sighed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging at the ends of his hair. He kissed you harder, as if you would slip away if he left your lips even for a second. You returned his kiss with the same amount of passion, and that set his body on fire. You were here with him, you were real, and you wanted to be with him as much as he did. You were his dream that came true.

You pulled away first, chuckling as he whined at the loss of contact. “Now that you’ve spent the night in my flat and all that jazz, are we dating or what?” You pecked his lips again.

“You’re too in love with me so what can I do, right?” He laid down, pulling you down with him before squeezing you against his chest. “I’m joking,” he said, burying his head on the crook of your neck. “I treasure you a lot, Y/N, I hope you know that.”

Jisung continued to whisper praises in your ears, his hold on you only getting tighter as he told you about things he loved about you that you weren’t even aware of. He felt you smile against his skin, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything.

“And I believe you, Jisung,” you told him, tracing patterns on his back. “I believe in the things you say, I believe in your dreams. I believe in you.”

“Thank you all for tuning in and before I go, I have something to say.”

The whole club—including Minho and Ryujin who said that they wanted to join despite not being able to change clubs until next semester—froze as Jisung gestured at all of you to calm down. “I don’t know if this will surprise you but I’ll return to When It’s Past Midnight as a fixed DJ starting next week. You’ll meet Y/N on Mondays and you’ll meet me on Thursdays.”

You squealed as Woojin and Felix gasped in total surprise. “Is he playing with us?” Woojin muttered. “I swear I’m gonna roast him alive after this. Sorry Y/N.”

“Pssst!” Ryujin hissed, causing everyone to shift their focuses back on Jisung. “I’ve always told our listeners to listen to their hearts, not others’,” he continued. “But I have to admit, doing that isn’t easy. It took me a long time to realize what made me so unhappy.”

“I hope it’s not too late to say this but if you’re unsure whether you should do something or not, give yourself a few chances. At the end of the day, all we can do is try.”

He smiled as you gave him a thumbs up.

“When it’s past midnight, your mind runs wild and wonders if there’s someone out there who’s willing to listen to you. That person is me Han Jisung, and I hope you’ll have not only a good night sleep, but also a good life. See you next week.”

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miyomiikonran · 5 years ago

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OCtober #9 - The Grandfather

I'll probably have to ditch out some questions from the second list I'm doing as first- I'm incredibly late at this point and second- I realized answering some of these is kind of no use to anyone. Even for me it would be just babbling to just babble.

Today's post will be a bit different compared to other ones as the character I'll talk about I can't really call an OC, more like plot device? It's a background character that existed mostly in my head despite having a role in the plot of one of my most developed characters :'D I'm gonna talk about Takashi and Shinuo's grandfather .u.

For this you'll need quite a lot of introduction so bear with me. As I said here and here, my sweet twins in their original Wakfu universe had quite a rough early life, but I mostly described Shinuo's side of it, as he's less fortunate one. Time has come to tell more details about Takashi's alone time at their home island Sufokia~

So like I mentioned in these linked posts, their father was a king's advisor in law's matters, which eventually led whole family to it's demise. How did he get here tho? I imagined Sufokia in my story like sort of mix between it's old game version and what we see in animated series by the end of season 2, so it's Sufokia build from scratch on Crimason Claws' Island (which in my native language's subtitles got messed up as archipelago so in my mind it exists like this :') ). So I imagine as well that some of the noble families of Sufokia were involved in it, which made them important members at it's capital island later. Twin's father was born in such family as oldest son but later he disobeyed his father's opinion about his marriage plans (his future wife was just common woman, which he didn't approve on) and got disowned, about which he didn't really care at that point because he got good education and managed to work on his position in king's administration by himself till he became king's advisor around his mid 40s. Then around 10 years later he and his wife was killed, one of their kids was taken and the other completely left alone.

You would probably think "well, Takashi wasn't to blame for his father's choices". Ur right, but tell that to this old stubborn man twin's grandfather was :') Stubborness goes in the family for sure.

What happend then? Takashi was caught up in the middle of social and moral argue, as no one from his father's side of the family wanted to take care of him. His mother's side grandparents sadly died before he could remember them. In this time he heard a lot of things kid his age shouldn't hear about his deceased parents and about himself, which heavily affected his behaviour and mental state. He was devasteted enough by losing both parents and younger sister, his home and feeling guilty for Shinuo's kidnapping, which made him close up a lot, spending most of his time hiding away from people at port, near beach or island's cliffs, till he got saved from this hopeless situation, from people who were supposed to be his family, but were actually handing him around like a thing.

But Takashi in the end got lucky again. Luck is kind of main theme for his character, I'll get back to this later~ After few weeks of that his parents' friends, Ecaflip couple running a tavern in the port, decided to take him in as they had no kids themselves and they couldn't look at this whole situation anymore. Takashi wasn't the easiest to get through to, but eventually he opened up again, slowly learning to trust them, especially that he knew them from before. His grandfather just settled with it and washed his hands out of it.

About this luck, it's a theme that's repeating a lot through Takashi's life right from beginning. He had a luck to be born with better case of albinism, having some melanin left, as well as being strongwr twin out of two. Then he got lucky, survived and got a foster family that cares and loves him the way he is. Later he met Hidemichi who for few years acted as a guide for him while he was still young boy and kinda like older brother, helping him grow into his confident self in the end c: There's even more and more of such situations and I have an explanation for it as well. As I said, he got adopted by Ecaflip family, who's god in this universe is known as god of luck and gambling, who's likely to often shift their favours. Takashi after what he lived through denied his race's godness, Eniripsa, saying she can't be kind or mercifull if she let such injustice happen to him and his brother (I'm not really up for official ways it works so I opted for born-in races and designated gods). It limited his abilities, but he never was eager to learn about healing anyway. But the thing he definitely liked was risk, his foster father also taugh him to play most gambling games before he reached adulthood, like poker and other card games, dice and such. He also learnt to cheat which he sometimes used to impress people and win against ppl he didn't like. As older teen he became quite a flirt as well. All of it made him rather similar in behaviour to usuall Ecaflips, which with his luck to this point, got him some of god Ecaflip's attention, which resulted in him having moments of real, unbelievable luck, like when he fell of a cliff as teen and got out of it with just a little scratches.

One last thing, coming back to main point of this post, which was supposed to be Takashi and Shinuo's grandfather is the fact the man later lost his second son when Takashi was already an adult and this made him interested again in his neglected grandson. He tried to make his way to Takashi having his pride in mind, not wanting to leave family without heir of some sort. As you can imagine, Takashi declined, both being too proud to ever accept anything from his grandfather and remembering both how he treated him and their father as well. As Takashi was the one taking care of their parents' grave while Shinuo was nowhere to be found, he knew their grandfather didn't visit the grave even once.

It got much longer than I wanted and expected it to be but well, I can't resist talking about my sweet twins c:

#oc-tober #oc tober 2019 #october #oc #original character #wakfu #eniripsa #ecaflip #shinuo #takashi

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attina-the-responsible · 5 years ago

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Rosemary’s Baby ~*~ [Siren]

In which Attina shares the...er...good news! [takes place: October 14]

@panicked-percy

[tw -- might be a mention of abortion]

ATTINA: Andrina was right when she said that if Panic skipped out, Attina could raise the baby herself. She had a whole family behind her. Her child would never want for anything, even if they didn’t have a father in the picture.

The problem was: as much as that might be true, as much as Attina love, loved the tiny thing growing inside her, she loved Panic too and she--didn’t want him to leave.

The whole night, she kept looking at him like he might leave. He was starting to catch on, even if the horror movie they had playing kept distracting him with its jumpscares. She wasn’t watching the movie. She was watching him, like she was trying to memorize all of his expressions in the half-dark. Her heart was pounding faster, she believed, than any of the people about to be cut to pieces on screen.

She was trying to gather up the courage to tell him. She wanted to tell him. She was excited and nervous and so full of love she was bursting.

But--nothing about this was ideal. Nothing at all.

No matter how much Attina wanted to pretend that it was--and she could, easily, pretend that it was--it wasn’t. And a lie like that wasn’t the way to start any of this off.

There was the sound of a chainsaw, someone screamed. Panic laughed.

She loved him so much.

“Panic,” she said his name, but his laughter drown it out. “Panic,” she repeated, a little firmer.

He glanced at her with his eyebrow quirked, but when she didn’t say anything at first, he went back to watching the gruesome scene unfolding on the screen.

“I’m pregnant!”

PANIC: Panic was all into movie night. The stupid tortures the characters had to go through or their reactions. Honestly after seeing how some demons would mess with people this was nothing. And plus he had Tina beside him even if she was being as awkward as possible. Panic had thought he had gotten past most of the quirks. So he wasn’t sure what was bothering her.

He would let it play out though. She would tell him in due time.

Panic hoped.

Percy poked fun of that hope a little but he was just chilling like normal and letting them be.

Both boys went silent at Tina’s exclamation.

It rang in Panic’s ears.

She was pregnant.

Panic had gotten his girlfriend pregnant.

“Wait what?” And there went another scream in the background as Panic looked over Tina his eyes dropping down to her stomach. “You’re what.”

ATTINA: Right.

That wasn’t exactly how Attina had imagined this going yesterday.

It wasn’t how Attina had ever imagined it going, because Attina had imagined this moment for as long as she could remember. Usually, she was married and the baby was planned and she came up with one of those cute surprise ways to tell her husband about their little package of joy on the way! This was not that. And Attina had realized yesterday, because she had only given it a day, that with the unsurety came no adorable reveals, because it wasn’t something to celebrate. Not in the way something longed for was. They hadn’t even talked about kids! Attina didn’t even know how that worked with the whole--demon thing.

It was complicated. It was always complicated.

“Pregnant.” Attina repeated it and it felt more real, the more she said it. Yesterday, it had taken all day to settle in, like something being slowly buried by an incoming tide.

“I-I took a test yesterday. They’re 99% accurate.” She didn’t know why she said that. Everyone knew that. It just--it just felt better to her. To have the numbers. And 99 was a good number.

PANIC: One deep breath.

Two deep breaths.

Pregnant.

Him and Tina were pregnant. And Percy was laughing so much in their mind. This wasn’t a moment Panic had ever envisioned. One day maybe but he hadn’t thought about it besides it being in the very distant future. Not in the near future. Let alone right now.

“Okay.” Panic nodded each word coming out with a pause between each thought. “99% is a lot.” Panic mumbled wincing at himself. That was not helpful at all and Panic didn’t need Percy telling him that either.

“What are you thinking?” Panic questioned again his eyes looking down at Tina’s stomach before he looked up at her. “Are we at a good thing? Bad thing?” They hadn’t talked about this? Did they want kids? Did they want them together? Were they ready for kids?

Oh my fucking god.

Kids.

TINA WAS FUCKING PREGNANT.

ATTINA: “Mhm,” went Attina’s voice to the 99% comment, her throat closed tight, the nonverbal agreement pitched high and uncomfortable.

Her brain had split off in ten different directions, spinning different outcomes quicker than she could fully comprehend them. Most of them involved this ending horribly, because at the end of the day, Attina was a fatalist. When it came down to it, she always imagined the worse-case scenario. Could you blame her? Her life had once been near-perfect. And then her mum had died.

The question caught her off-guard though.

She didn’t--know the answer.

Well, she did. The answer made her want to cry. Or, maybe, it was the question.

A good thing? A bad thing?

It was supposed to be a good thing. Her whole life--she had always wanted it to be a good thing. For there not to even be a question and for Attina there wasn’t a question.

How could you even ask that? She wanted to ask, but she knew it wasn’t fair.

Tears started burning in her eyes suddenly. She blinked several times, looking away and sniffling. Her hand moved protectively over her stomach.

“Well, I’m keeping them,” she declared defiantly, looking back at him with a little pucker to her brows. “So, it’s--up to you, I guess. If you--want it to be a good thing.”

PANIC: Again Panic’s mind went to the thought of not wanting kids. If Tina would have an abortion. If he hoped she wanted one or he didn’t want her to have one. It was selfish just asking her to tell him her thoughts when he couldn’t even communicate his.

Did Panic want to be a Father?

Did Panic not want to think about this?

Did he want maybe a few moments at least to think without Tina’s big beautiful eyes staring up at him burrowing into his soul. Asking everything from him.

He was starting to wonder if he wanted it now that it’s an option. Because he had no choice. A child or his girlfriend. To walk away didn’t feel much like an option.

“I think it’s a good thing, yeah. I just my mind is sort of spinning. I’m not walking away Tina.” Panic declared moving to take her free hand. “I’ve just never really thought about kids before.”

ATTINA: “I know, I know, I’m sorry.” Attina crumpled at once. The relief weighed more than her determination to do this all by herself if necessary. It crashed over her and she felt heavy with it. Sometimes relief was hardly relief when anxiety had had you wound so tight. Tears wet her eyelashes, though she wasn’t really crying and didn’t know why she was crying if she was crying.

She let her fingers curl around his hand like he was an anchor that could hold her in one place.

“I just--I don’t--I don’t want to make you feel trapped. I didn’t mean--I don’t want--” Her sentences stopped and started as she tried to figure out what to say or how to say it.

Because she didn’t want Panic to think he had to stay with her because of this. What kind of relationship was that? One that would only be filled with bitterness in the end. That wasn’t what she wanted.

How could she both want and not want this baby in equal measure? It didn’t make any sense.

Nothing really had since the little pink plus sign had shown up.

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

PANIC: Panic shook his head giving her hand a squeeze. He may not have had the words that he wanted to use but that didn't mean he wanted her to cry or apologize.

"There's nothing to apologize for." It took two of them to get pregnant even though they had been being careful. What luck. A couple months? A month? (When exactly had she gotten pregnant? Were they unlucky enough to have only slept together a couple times before she had gotten pregnant?)

Unlucky.

That was the word that had crossed his mind. They had been unlucky.

"I'm not trapped. We both knew we wanted each other for the long run. It's just happening way sooner than I ever could have imagined. I already knew I wanted to marry you one day. Kids come along with that dream yeah?"

ATTINA: Attina was really trying not to cry, but it felt like the more she tried to keep them in, the more the tears fought back. Like they had a mind of their own. Maybe they did. Hormones and what not. It was totally possible that she was just flipping out because of hormones! Yeah. Definitely. That made her feel...a little better.

She was ruining all of this. Maybe she should’ve gone the cute route. Maybe she should’ve led into it better. Maybe there was a better way to tell your boyfriend you’d somehow accidentally gotten pregnant even though you were careful.

But, well--there wasn’t a way to erase time. Attina had tried that once and the memory of it made her shudder.

Or, maybe, that was just the tears.

Or Panic’s words: I already knew I wanted to marry you one day.

Attina looked at him and blinked. One of those pesky tears fell from her eyelid down to her lap, but she ignored it.

“Really? You wanted--want--to marry me?”

Gee, way to miss the point, Tiny. You’re hopeless. That was Andrina’s voice in her head and she blinked again and let out a shuddering breath.

PANIC: Panic let out a laugh tugging Attina closer to him, twisting himself onto the couch so he could pull her into his lap. He didn’t mean to laugh at her blubbering but she was adorable.

And he loved her for it.

“I wanted to marry you yes.” Panic mused in his laughter kissing her forehead. “I don’t know how to handle a kid let alone a baby. But Tina if you’re doing this then I’m doing this too.” Panic explained resting his cheek on her head.

“I’m going to have to learn a lot that’s for sure.” A lot felt like an understatement though. A demon and a mermaid. Percy. Him. Attina and her family. Was the kid ever really his? It was too messy and thoughts he didn’t want to think.

ATTINA: Panic pulled her towards him and Attina flowed into him like water, wrapping her arms around him and resting her head on his chest. She let out a breath as he spoke, hearing them come from inside his chest, like they were coming right from his heart.

And, you know, she had thought about that too--

The whole...how did a demon and a baby work? But, succubus were a thing, weren’t they? Incubus? There had been stories for as long as people had been around about demons and humans being able to conceive. Even if that wasn’t true, though, if this baby wasn’t--technically, DNA-Panic’s--that didn’t matter. Not to her.

Her baby would be so lucky, with both Percy and Panic to look after them. It was weird, for sure, it was weird and unconventional, but she had already thought about this and she already knew exactly how she felt.

She leaned up some to kiss him. “You’ll learn,” she told him, having the utmost confidence, “if it is what you want...you’ll learn. And our baby--” god, that felt so weird to say, but the more she thought about it, the more the baby settled into her womb, the more real it felt, the more solid “--they’ll be lucky to have you.”

PANIC: Panic’s heart was racing, all the potential worries that he could have beating out of his chest. Waiting for Attina to hear how scared he was, to hear the doubt in his voice and challenge him. Did they know what they were getting themselves into? Were they ready?

He expected her to freak out and for once Panic wasn’t sure if he could calm her down.

Yet Tina spoke with confidence to him, like she could see exactly what he could handle but Panic doubted her confidence in him.

The words still rang out in his head. That she was pregnant.

Still he kissed back without a second thought. “They’ll be lucky to have the huge family they are going to come into.” Peter with standing. The Triton’s could be one amazing family to be around. “We’re going to be parents?” Hell that was so weird to say. “How? Who do you even go to about this? Can you do appointments and confirm at the hospital?”

ATTINA: Attina snorted a little at the “how” question--knowing it was rhetorical but still very tempted to answer back with the cliche: “you know how.” Instead, she just gave him a little look to imply something along that vein. However, that look quickly morphed when Panic suggested going to a proper doctor at the hospital.

“No, I--can’t, exactly. Mermaid, remember?” She could go to the regular doctor. Doctor-patient confidentiality was still a thing, even when your patient was considered an “animal” in some circles. Still, Attina was too paranoid for something like that.

“But, we’ll have Sebastian for any prescriptions or--if there are any complications, but I’m pretty sure Ella goes to a midwife-witch. I think that would--probably be better. Especially for...our specific predicament. Sebastian understands the mermaid side of things, but we’re a little more complicated than that, aren’t we?” She said this almost playfully--even if it did make her slightly nervous. Attina didn’t want to focus on that. At least, not right now. Not when her worries about Panic’s reaction had been mostly proven unnecessary. She wanted to be--happy, if not excited.

PANIC: Panic definitely remembered the whole mermaid thing but he didn’t know how one got treatment or if there was something else she had to do. How was a mermaid pregnancy different? Was it different? Could they deliver in a hospital? Was Panic getting ahead of himself?

Yes. Yes he was.

“I might have someone I can ask a couple questions to, on the demon side, type of things. I dunno if it’d work and I’d have to tell them about me at the very least-” Maybe Belle wouldn’t be too made though. Maybe she would be willing to help a little bit. She might not even have anymore information but it was a chance and a mermaid/demon baby. Well that was something they would have their hands full with. Even if it outed himself. - maybe, just maybe it would be okay.

“But we can check into the mid-wife stuff.” He wanted to be playful with Attina poking a little fun but he just couldn’t. He was worried what this meant physically as well. “We’ll figure it out nonetheless.” Panic stated more for himself at the very least.

ATTINA: Attina didn’t know how she felt about Panic telling someone else about him. It gave her the same spike of fear that the thought of her telling someone else about her gave her. Like Panic’s secret was her secret. These days, it kind of was. They were entwined--now, moreso than ever--and she knew who he told would affect her as well.

But--as soon as the fear came, so too, did the reminder that Attina trusted Panic. More than she’d ever trusted anyone outside of her own family. And, honestly? She wanted the knowledge too. If whoever he was going to talk to could help, then they should help. Because as entwined as Panic and her were, it was not only them anymore either.

“We will,” she told him, squeezing his hand and leaning over to kiss the corner of his lips. “And if you think whoever will help and you trust them, you should talk to them.” She smiled softly at him.

“Thank you,” she told him and kissed him again.

PANIC: Panic let out a sigh closing his eyes for a brief second. Setting his hand on her head he lifted his lips to kiss the top of her head. Panic had been taking a lot of risks lately. Too many. But they would be worth it if this baby ended up being okay. If Attina and him could be okay then it was worth it.

Would Belle run him out of town? Hopefully not.

“I’ll let you know how it goes.” Panic accepted it, this was his choice and it was for the little baby they would have. “I love you Tina, and I love them. And your Dad is going to kill me isn’t he?”

ATTINA: I love you and I love them.

Honestly, Attina couldn’t even blame hormones for the tears that welled up in her eyes at that. It was pure gratefulness and love. She had wanted something like this ever since she was a little girl. Of course, it had looked different. Her boyfriend wouldn’t be a demon and also wouldn’t be her boyfriend, but her husband. They would’ve planned this all out and have wanted it. Her mother would be here too...but--it was perfect anyway. It was perfect and Attina loved Panic so much she felt like she was going to burst from it.

The second part made her laugh. It took her by surprise. Here she was having all these mushy gushy feelings and she’d forgotten--

Her father probably was going to kill Panic.

“Pfft, no,” Attina said, shaking her head and laughing again. A tear fell from her eye and then another. “I won’t let him,” she declared, stroking at the back of Panic’s neck with her fingers and pressing her forehead to his. “He’ll get over it. Don’t worry.”

PANIC: Panic laughed with Attina although honestly he wasn’t sure he felt like laughing. His stomach was still twisting and turning and although he was pretty damn sure he would end up loving his kid and Percy would care for him too. It just felt so far away. Like a joke.

Those weren't words to say. Joking about her father killing him. Now those were words that could be said. Wiping away those few tears that slipped past Attina's cheek Panic offered her a smile. It was them and the baby now. That's how it would be.

"Just remind him it's easier to kill Percy then it is to kill me. That might be enough to guilt him." Panic joked (Percy calling out a hey in his mind. That he wasn't about to go down for panic getting his girl pregnant.). "Actually you know what don’t remind him about Percy that make make him willing to actually kill me again."

#bdrppanic #siren #fake husband #rosemary's baby #duN duN DUN

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szslams-blog · 6 years ago

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The One

The moment that I met him, I knew he was the One.

From that very moment onward. My past didn’t matter anymore. Nothing else mattered. All that mattered was him.

“I look at him, and I see the rest of my life sitting right there before my very eyes.”

That’s how I described it to my friends.

When I would catch him looking at me and I’d ask what, and he’d smile and say, “Just you...” He was the One.

When he told me he loved me for the first time on my 21st birthday, underneath that beautiful August sky... He was the One.

When I was having a psychotic break and desperately needed my medication, and he drove to my apartment and held me while I broke down, caressing my hair, whispering gently in my ear until I fell asleep... He was the one.

When we went to visit his parents, blasting the same four songs on repeat the whole ride there, seeing him, the joy in his eyes... He was the One.

When we played Dungeons and Dragons with his friends, the way he got so into character and lit up during those sessions... He was the One.

When we fought, and he would drive half an hour to my apartment, drunk the whole ride there, and we’d make up... He was the One.

When I lived across the street and we would have an argument and I would run home, and he would sit outside my door and refuse to leave until I opened up... He was the One.

When he accused me of cheating on him because I reconnected with a friend I hadn’t seen in awhile that I rarely talked about... He was the One.

When my turn came to accuse him of cheating on me because he wouldn’t tell me where he was and I heard an unfamiliar female voice in the background when I called him... He was the One.

When I would get too drunk and say those things that nobody deserves to hear... He was the One.

When it all came crashing down on my head, all of it, the whole fucking thing hit my square in the face like a god damn cinderblock... He was the One.

When he told me to block his number... He was the One.

When he said, “Bye forever...” He was the One.

How could I be so stupid? So careless? So foolish? So reckless?

We don’t speak. Our friends- his... friends. all hate me now. I quit drinking. He wants nothing to do with me, so I’m unofficially banned from the bar he works at. I‘m moving to Georgia. I’ve had 15 friends die, and after losing him and all the people I called friends, there is nothing left for me here. I leave in October.

He’s still the one. He always will be the one... The one that got away.

#poetry #poem #slam poem #slam poetry #writing #writer #breakup #breakups #heartbreak #ex #love #relationship #relationships #boyfriend #girlfriend #significant other #the one

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jfpisadearqueerdeer · 6 years ago

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Key Entries of James Potter’s Journal - First Year

September 1, 1971

Dad says I need to keep a record of my times at Hogwarts. I just got sorted into Gryffindor. Sirius Black did too. Mum wouldn’t want me going near someone from that family, but he was crying. He doesn’t want to be here. Mum may not like the family, but she would disapprove of me not comforting him more. Another boy, Remus, I think, fell asleep in the bathroom and I had to carry him to his bed. Kingsley didn’t help, but Black and the other boy did.

- James F. Potter

September 4, 1971

The other boy’s name is Peter. He’s pretty cool, he can talk his way out of everything and sometimes he disappears into the background. Remus is pretty cool too. He sleeps a lot and calls me bad names (I hate that he curses), but I still like him. And Sirius, he’s my new, no, first, best friend. He doesn’t cry in public anymore. He acts all confident and talks back to the teachers and plans all kinds of pranks, but really, he’s all talk.

- James F. Potter

October 4, 1971

I was wrong. Sirius Black is not all talk. He snuck into the Slytherin common room and somehow dyed his 6th year cousin Narcissa’s hair PINK. This was a few days ago and they CAN’T FIND A WAY TO REVERSE IT. He has detention until it turns back. But it’s just with McG, so he’s safe. FOR NOW.

- James F. Potter

November 1st, 1971

I CAN’T BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT. We (Sirius, Remus, Peter, and I) planned the prank of a lifetime with the Prewett twins. They’re seventh years and CAME TO US to help them leave a legacy. I COULD BARELY BREATHE. We found charms to manipulate the ghosts to take over all of the teachers! The Bloody Baron went after Dumbledore. IT WAS SO COOL! We obviously have detention until we die.

- James F. Potter

November 13, 1971

Us and the girls stayed up until nearly 4 A.M. last night. The girls are Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas, of course. We played truth or dare. Half of us nearly died. Combined we lost 80 points sneaking out of the common room (those of us that got caught). Peter found a secret passage way. Sirius cannot, and I repeat, CANNOT sing. He also didn’t tell us about his birthday, which was 10 DAYS AGO. Lily seems to know a secret, because when we asked her what her biggest secret was, she took the fallback, and TOOK OFF HER SHIRT. What does she know that she’d be willing to do that? Kingsley hates all of us. Marlene kissed my cheek. I need to sleep for three days.

- James F. Potter

December 25, 1971

Christmas is fun but I miss the gang. I miss how everyday would start would Remus throwing a pillow at Sirius’s bed. I miss how Peter never failed to sneak out without getting caught. I miss how Dorcas would make us all flower crowns on Saturdays. I miss how Lily always teased me at breakfast. I miss how Marlene and I would try to out-tease each other. I miss making fun of Slytherins, especially that Snape boy. He clings to Lily, but he’s rude to the rest of us.

- James F. Potter

January 4, 1972

Sirius came back with bruises. I’m scared for him. What goes on that house? Who gave him those bruises? He isn’t that clumsy. I know he isn’t.

- James F. Potter

January 30, 1972

Lily’s birthday is today and Dorcas’s is on the 2nd. We’re celebrating them tonight. MORE TRUTH OR DARE.

- James F. Potter

January 31, 1972

it was a mistake

- James F. Potter

February 14, 1972

The Hufflepuffs have pale pink hair. The Ravenclaw have magenta hair. The Slytherin’s have hot pink hair. I have something Lily calls “peach” colored hair. Her hair is perfectly fine. And so is Sirius’s. And the rest of the gang’s. I’m going to kill them.

- James F. Potter

March 10, 1972

Remus’s birthday is today. Peter snuck a chocolate cake out of the kitchens. We’re going to eat it while playing truth or dare. I have the perfect dare for Sirius Black.

March 10, 1972 continued

SIRIUS BLACK’S HAIR IS RAINBOW COLORED. Life is good again. Remus is smiling his face off. I love it.

- James F. Potter

March 29, 1972

Sirius think Remus is a werewolf. Lily won’t look at us. Tonight’s a full moon. I think I know what Lily’s secret was.

- James F. Potter

March 31, 1972

REMUS “IRONY OF IRONIES” JOHN LUPIN IS A WEREWOLF. He just admitted it. Sirius says he has a plan. I don’t want to know it. We’re leaving for Easter Break tomorrow.

- James F. Potter

April 10, 1972

Sirius came back with bruises again. Scars too. Lily sees them too. And Remus. If the other’s see it, they don’t mention it.

I’m scared for summer to come. What if Sirius doesn’t come back next year?

- James F. Potter

May 6th, 1972

Marlene’s birthday was celbrated last night despite it being today. I saw her kiss a sleeping Dorcas on the cheek after the game. Sometimes I think I feel the same way about one of my friends.

- James F. Potter

May 19, 1972

Lils and I got detention for getting into a fight in the halls. I asked her why she was friends with Snape. She got defensive. I’m just trying to protect her. But I have faith in her. If she thinks he’s safe, I will let it be. For now.

She can protect herself, after all.

- James F. Potter

June 12, 1972

Peter won’t let us host a Truth or Dare game on his birthday. We’re gonna prank him instead.

- James F. Potter

June 14, 1972

I can still hear McG yelling.

- James F. Potter

June 30, 1972

We leave tomorrow. I’m still scared.

- James F. Potter

#marauders #marauders era #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #lily evans #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #severus snape #kingsley shacklebolt #professor mcgonagall #journal entries hp

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bangtanstanst · 6 years ago

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Bangtan Unsolved: The Spoopy Spirits of Franklin Castle || 11:49 PM

“Built in the 1880s for wealthy German immigrant, Hannes Tiedemann, the ‘castle’ was the site of four Tiedemann children deaths, as well as multiple murders in the secret passageways around the ballroom. In the 1990s, a skeleton was found in a closet. Today, visitors hear babies crying in the walls and spot a woman in black staring out of the tower window.” (x)

And tonight, Bangtan investigates.

series masterlist | bangtanstanst masterlist

characters: reader + hoseok, ft. the rest of ot7

genre: ghost hunter!au, horror I guess?, attempts at humour

warnings: (mentions of) ghosts & demons

word count: 1.7k

a/n: hi everyone! So, as you all probably know, it’s Halloween month! I really wanted to do a Halloween special, so here it is! I’ll be posting the following parts to this as the month continues. Let me know what you think, I’d love to hear your thoughts and comments (especially because this is kind of new territory for me)! Have a great day/night wherever you are, and happy October :)

PS: if you’re wondering, I based the floor plans I had in mind when writing on what I found here!

“… so, as a result, Franklin Castle has become known as one of the most haunted places in the country. And, fortunately for us, the owners of this small castle have allowed us to go inside for a night to help us prove that ghosts,” Hoseok pauses, glancing over at you with a pointed look, “are real,” he finishes, and you just look into the camera, theatrically rolling your eyes. Jungkook glances up at you from his viewfinder and snickers silently, holding the camera steady as you pointedly stand up.

“Well, that all sounds ridiculously far-fetched,” you decide, dusting off your butt as best as you can. Your fingers are starting to lose their feeling, the winter air too icy for even your thick coat or gloves to fight against.

Hoseok just huffs in reply, all too used to your criticism.

You smile at him, holding out your hand. “Let’s go inside before this woman in black catches us, eh?”

He mumbles something you can’t quite catch, though he takes your hand and allows you to hoist him up. Just as you turn to face the small crew of five, all here to help you document your night at the Franklin Castle, Seokjin yells ‘cut!’, clapping his hands for good measure. “Alright, let’s pack up and go in, we don’t have all night,” he says, turning to the crew, who are already packing up.

“We literally do,” you shoot back with a laugh. “That’s why we’re here.”

“You ever hear of a figure of speech?” Seokjin returns, an amused smile breaking out onto his face, though he turns away when something else catches his attention before you can say anything in reply.

Rather than an expected chuckle, you hear Hoseok sigh beside you, and when you turn back to him, he’s looking up at the house with the corners of his lips turned down. You have to admit, it does look a little imposing, especially in the dark of night. The tall building is clearly in a state of decay, dark bricks crumbling. Some of the windows are smashed to pieces, allowing the wind to freely play inside, and you shiver at the thought of having to walk through the door, enter this cold and musty ‘castle’. You can’t even look inside to see what’s waiting for you – all you see is darkness.

Still, though, you can’t help but equate it to the Luigi mansion in Mario Kart – a little creepy, and full of fake-ass ghosts.

Another sigh from the man beside you pulls you out of your thoughts and you look at him, noticing the script in his hand is shaking a little. You lightly pat his shoulder, sending him a small smile you hope will reassure him, even if it’s just slightly. “You’ll be fine, Hobi,” you tell him, leaning against the door with your shoulder. You hear Taehyung and Namjoon’s laughter somewhere in the background as the latter helps the younger man pack up the lights and put some of it back in the van. “It’s just a few hours.”

He huffs, breath coming out in a white cloud. “Easy for you to say,” he shoots back. “You don’t even believe in this stuff.”

You smile up at him, tilting your head. “And yet you keep picking haunted places for us to film at.”

He just sends you a look, choosing to remain silent rather than protest. “Anyways,” he says pointedly, leaning against the door, mirroring your stance as he tilts his head. “You went on a family trip last week, right?” You don’t have to nod, you know he already knows since you had to plan your shoots around the damn ‘vacation’, but you do it anyway. “How was it?” he asks, glancing aside at the crew, watching as Jimin and Jungkook fold their tripods, chattering back and forth.

You groan, leaning your head against the wooden surface of the heavy door. “Don’t get me started. I think I explained my job to my grandma like five times and she still didn’t understand on the ride home.”

“That can’t be all you guys talk about,” he says, clearly fishing for something ‘positive’.

You laugh and shake your head. “No, they also love to talk about my love life,” you reply with a huff, looking over his shoulder into the dark night. “Even if it’s absolutely non-existent.”

He grins at you. “Do I detect a hint of bitterness?”

You snort, shaking your head. “What do you mean? I absolutely love talking to air all night and waiting for a whisper that’ll never come,” you tease, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Wouldn’t trade it for the world.”

Hoseok puts a hand to his chest, shaking his head at you. “I came out to have a good time and I’m honestly feeling so attacked right now.”

You snort once more and flick his forehead, stepping back as Yoongi approaches the two of you to check the small microphones attached to your coats. “That’s what I’m here for, isn’t it?” you retort.

“Not really,” Hoseok says with a shrug, looking at you over Yoongi’s shoulder. “Just so I have someone to sacrifice if we accidentally anger a demon again.”

You chuckle and shake your head. “For someone who claims he’s afraid of ghosts, you sure joke a lot about them.”

“Coping mechanism,” Yoongi remarks with a small smirk, adjusting the position of your microphone a little so your hair won’t cover it during filming. “I mean, right before he starts screaming his lungs out when he hears the tiniest of ‘whispers’,” he adds, mockingly emphasizing the last word.

With a laugh, you turn to Hoseok, who just huffs and crosses his arms, though he allows enough room for Yoongi to fumble with his mic as he did with yours. “I’m not the only one that gets scared here,” he protests weakly, knowing he can’t simply deny all the on-camera instances of him actually screaming his lungs out. “Seokjin can barely keep his mouth shut!”

At the sound of his name, Seokjin looks up from his conversation with Namjoon and Taehyung, raising his eyebrows at the two of you. “What was that?”

“Nothing!” Hoseok returns with an innocent smile, turning back once the older man shrugs and picks his conversation back up. “I mean, remember when that rat scurried over his foot and he basically jumped through the ceiling?”

You can’t hold back your laughter, and you know Yoongi’s laughing too, even if he tries to hide it by focusing on Hoseok’s mic.

None of you will ever forget that night. You’d been stalking around the hallways of some abandoned diner for a few hours, once more coming up empty when, just before you walked out of the grimy kitchen, Seokjin let out a scream you’ll never be able to erase from your mind. He’d even gone as far as to jump on Namjoon’s back, upon which the papers both men had been holding fell to the ground, scattering all over the floor. You’d painstakingly had to pick everything up before you could leave, all the while Seokjin just sat on one of the filthy counters just so he wouldn’t have to touch the floor. You’d left the restaurant about an hour past schedule.

Regardless, it had made for one good episode.

You open your mouth to say something, but you notice the others are heading your way and you swallow your words.

“I’m sure you’ve all seen the schedule, but I’ll repeat it just to be sure,” Seokjin says, taking a sheet of paper from Namjoon’s hands. You and Hoseok huddle around him, Namjoon, and Taehyung, reading along as Jimin and Jungkook return from the van. Yoongi takes the script from Hoseok’s hands, stuffing it in Seokjin’s backpack.

“So we’ll start with the first floor – parlour, dining room, ballroom,” Seokjin begins, pointing to the rooms in question on the map Namjoon has brought along, illuminated by the flashlight Taehyung is pointing at it. “Then we’ll move to the library and one of the bedrooms on the third floor. We’ll go down to the basement around 3, where we’ll do the lockdown.”

Everyone hums at that, slowly nodding as you process tonight’s plans.

“We should be out by 4, but the owners say it’s fine if we run a little late. Besides, our flight back is not until eight PM tomorrow, so don’t feel like you have to hold back on the bickering,” he adds with a smile, at which you hold your hand up for a high five, and Hoseok enthusiastically claps his hand against yours. “Alright, I think that’s it. Everyone ready to go?”

There’s a chorus of ‘yes’s ringing through the silent night air. After Jungkook and Jimin quickly fasten a harness with a Go-Pro around your and Hoseok’s waists – something you always find makes you look slightly ridiculous – you and Hoseok walk back to your spots at the door while you’re shivering from the cold.

“You’re not nervous, are you?” Hoseok teases, raising an eyebrow when your teeth start to clatter.

You keep your jaw still, shivers still running down your back. “Just cold, you idiot,” you say, checking your camera if it’s on and on the right settings, as Hoseok does the same.

“Whatever you say,” he says with a smirk, clearly glad he can tease you for a bit now. All you do is roll your eyes at him, laughing a little.

“Alright, have a good shoot, everyone,” calls Seokjin, and you turn your heads briefly to the crew by your side. Jimin and Jungkook are pointing their cameras at the two of you, with Taehyung in the middle, carrying some of the lights needed to make your footage a little better. Yoongi is right behind them, his headphones on, listening intently to the audio coming through your mics, tweaking it here and there. Meanwhile, Namjoon and Seokjin are standing side by side, papers in hand, ready to fact-check or steer the two of you when it’s needed.

You turn back to Hoseok, who gives you a smile and nod, though you can see he’s already shaking again – and you know for a fact that it’s not just from the cold. Putting your thumbs up, you try to console him in the second you have before the whole circus begins.

“In 3, 2…”

a/n: thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know if you liked it, if you want me to continue this, or if you have anything else to say, I’d love to hear from you! Have a great day/night wherever you are :)

series masterlist | bangtanstanst masterlist

#bangtanarmynet #bts fanfic #bts halloween #bts horror #hoseok fanfic #seokjin fanfic #namjoon fanfic #yoongi fanfic #jimin fanfic #taehyung fanfic #jungkook fanfic #bts x reader #reader x bts #bts #my fics

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littlerose13writes · 7 years ago

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Sweeter Than Fiction Chapter 11: Happy Birthday

Scorpius Malfoy and Albus Potter have decided fifth year is going to be their year; the year everything works out for them, and if that means Scorpius keeping his huge crush on his best friend a secret, then that’s just what he’s going to have to do.

It’s just a crush. He can get over it well before fifth year is over, can’t he?

Chapter 11/27

Updates every Monday and Friday

Read on AO3 or FF

“Scor. Scorpius!”

Scorpius blinked sleepily into the darkness, feeling entirely unhappy with the amount of sleep he’d had and wondering why on earth he was being woken at such a ridiculous hour.

Albus’ grinning face loomed down over him. “Happy birthday.”

Scorpius groaned and stuffed his face into his pillow, then immediately removed it and eyed his best friend. “It’s just gone midnight, hasn’t it.”

“Yep,” said Albus, inviting himself to sit on top of Scorpius’ bedspread and pulling the curtains closed behind him. He was wearing a well-loved Holyhead Harpies t-shirt and pyjama bottoms with socks on his feet even though he looked wide awake, as though he hadn’t been to bed yet. Scorpius knew just-woken-up Albus well and his eyes were far too bright right now.

As he fully woke up, Scorpius started to appreciate the scene before him: Albus in his bed. Well, not in his bed but on top of it. They sat on top of each other’s beds all the time, but that was always when they were fully clothed. At that moment, Scorpius was in just a t-shirt and very aware of it. He was very glad his duvet hadn’t slipped down in his sleep and exposed him, turning Albus’ birthday surprise into a hideous embarrassment.

“You’re officially sixteen. How’s it feel?” Albus crossed his legs beneath him and Scorpius stared up at him, unable to concentrate on anything other than the fact that there was only a thin layer of fabric between Albus and his naked lower half.

“About the same as fifteen,” he said in an even, measured voice.

“Anyway, I have your present. It can’t wait ‘til morning.” Albus scrambled to get off the bed and Scorpius realised he was expecting him to leap up and follow instantly.

“Um, Al,” he felt himself turn Gryffindor-red. “I’m not… wearing anything… under-”

“Oh!” Albus gasped and leapt from the bed like it was infested with doxies. “Um, sorry, I’ll just… wait out here.”

He was gone in a whirl of hangings and Scorpius breathed out silently. He scrabbled around in his bed until he found his own pyjama bottoms crumpled at the foot of the bed where he’d kicked them off. When he’d pulled them back on, he steeled himself to open his hangings and pretend he hadn’t just been half nude within inches of his best friend.

Albus was waiting patiently from his own bed and he threw something soft in Scorpius’ direction, which he caught in both hands. It was dove-grey and fluffy between his fingers; a knitted jumper.

“You’ll want that, it’s cold.” Albus had pulled on a jumper of his own (navy blue with a small, white A in the top corner) and was stood smiling excitedly. He had a backpack on his back.

“Cold? Albus, are we leaving the dorm?”

Albus simply nodded. “Trust me.”

Scorpius tried not to think about what had happened the last time he’d trusted Albus with a rule-breaking scheme as he dubiously followed him down to the common room. The grey jumper belonged to Albus, who was shorter than Scorpius but with broader shoulders, and it hung cosily around his thin frame, exposing an inch of the bottom of his t-shirt.

Once in the common room, Albus swung the backpack around and pulled something out of it. He surreptitiously looked around him, even though nobody was ever around after midnight (except during exam season). “Come closer.”

He shuffled closer, recognising as he did what Albus was holding in his hands. “No way!”

Albus unrolled it and swung it around his shoulders, looking smug as his entire body disappeared before his eyes. “Yep. Legitimately borrowed with permission this time.”

“James lent it to you?” Scorpius asked, as Albus took the cloak off and checked the contents of his backpack. “I thought he was more protective of it after you stole it?”

“He is. Apparently Lil’s been trying to get him to let her use it for weeks.”

“But he said yes to you?”

“Told him he owed me for breaking my ankle.” Albus shrugged with a grin and gestured for Scorpius to come under the cloak with him. They’d both grown a lot since fourth year and it was a bit more of a squeeze; it was all Scorpius could do not to wrap his arm around Albus’ shoulders to stop it uncomfortably bumping into his side.

“Where are we going?” Scorpius hissed as they exited the common room.

“You’ll see, happy birthday,” Albus repeated, reaching into his pocket and removing the portable silencing charm, which hovered in the air between them and glowed faintly.

They trudged through the castle, Albus taking the lead at each corner. Scorpius couldn’t help but think about how close their hands were to each other, since Albus had swapped the hand he was holding the cloak with. Once or twice, their fingertips brushed together, making Scorpius’ heart speed up. Albus kept looking up at him and grinning wickedly in a way which was driving Scorpius mad with longing.

“The astronomy tower?” Scorpius questioned as they climbed the staircase and their destination became clear.

“Happy birthday!”

They stepped out onto the platform at the top of the tower, where the usual telescope stands were lined up ready for classes. Moonlight bathed the stony surface in a glowing light but everything looked ordinary.

Albus pulled the cloak away and bundled it back into his backpack. He pointed his wand at the silencing charm, whispering a banishing charm, and it whizzed to hover at the top of the staircase instead. Reaching into his backpack again, he emerged with his music box and placed it on the ground, tapping it once with his wand so music started playing. Another backpack endeavour brought two small objects which Albus placed on the ground in front of them.

“Engorgio,” he whispered, pointing his wand at them and looking triumphant as they grew once more to full size, comfortable-looking squashy cushions.

If Scorpius didn’t know any better, he would say this whole scene had the makings of something rather more romantic than a boy wishing his best friend happy birthday, but he squashed these thoughts to the back of his mind. He only had one real friend, how would he know? Besides, Albus had almost definitely kissed Thea so he probably had a crush on her anyway.

“Happy birthday!” He sank into one of the cushions and Scorpius did the same.

“You’ve said that four times now, you know.”

“Happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday.” Albus smirked.

“Why all this?” Scorpius smiled as Albus once again reached into his backpack and came back with two bottles of butterbeer and several bags of sweets.

“You’re my best friend, it’s your birthday, I don’t tell you enough that I appreciate you sticking around.”

“Albus…” Scorpius went to protest this statement but Albus silenced him with a look, reaching into his backpack again.

He handed Scorpius a wrapped present which seemed to take up the last of the space in his now floppy and empty backpack. The wrapping paper was patterned with the Appleby Arrows logo on a pale blue background and the present itself was box-shaped, but long and narrow.

“Can I guess what it is?” Scorpius said eagerly, turning it over in his hands.

“It’s what you think it is, but look.”

Scorpius unwrapped it carefully, folding the paper neatly and placing it down while Albus drummed his fingers impatiently beside him. Inside was a smart, black box edged with gold and writing stating Sinistra and Babcock in gilt lettering across the top. He gently eased the lid off and opened it to reveal a glossy, emerald green telescope.

“Albus, it’s beautiful.” He turned it over in his hands, noticing the intricately engraved patterns winding their way over the outside.

“I picked it completely on my own, nobody helped me.” He was looking adorably pleased with himself. “Test it out!”

Scorpius didn’t need telling twice, and extended the scope carefully, holding it up to his eye and twisting the dial on the side to focus it. The small circle of sky in his eyesight was empty, but a small, golden arrow appeared on one side, pointing over to the left. Instinctively, Scorpius moved the telescope in the direction of the arrow and a star came into view. Lettering in the same gold as the arrow appeared, reading epsilon pegasi and indicating the star.

“That’s so cool!” He pulled the telescope from his eye and looked at Albus in delight. “Amazing.”

“You’re not allowed it in your Astronomy OWL though, I’m afraid.”

“Thankyou, Albus. I really do love it quite a bit.” He put the telescope back up to his eye and just stared and stared at the starry sky.

“Happy birthday,” his best friend said again, this time in a soft whisper.

After Hogsmeade and his birthday, Scorpius barely thought about his nightmares or panic attacks for the whole last week of October. He felt like just being reassured by someone like Victoire that what he was feeling was perfectly normal had done something to help him relax more. But Halloween was coming up and Scorpius was concerned the significance of the day would bring up his anxiety again.

Halloween fell on a Sunday this year, so he didn’t even have any classes to distract himself. He slept in as late as he could, getting breakfast at the last possible second and collecting some toast for Albus too (he never woke up in time for breakfast on a Sunday). They munched together companionably in the common room, then spent an enjoyable few hours practising the diminuendo and engorgio charms on each other’s possessions in the dorm.

Scorpius was a little enthusiastic at one point and shrunk Albus’ toothbrush down so small it took both of them crawling around on all fours to find it again and put it back to normal. By the time they found it, Albus was checking his watch and starting to look worried. “I should get going soon.”

Scorpius mentally smacked himself. He had completely forgotten that Albus was spending the afternoon with his dad.

“Are you coming to the Halloween feast later?” He sat down on the end of his bed.

Albus smiled and nodded, joining Scorpius on the narrow edge of his bed. “I’ll be back in time. I told Dad I couldn’t just leave you all day, not today.”

Not for the first time, Scorpius was amazed at how Albus just seemed to know him so well. A selfish and immature part of his brain wanted to insist Albus didn’t go and stayed there with him instead.

“Don’t worry about me, have fun with your dad.”

Albus sighed. “There’s a reason he’s coming on Halloween. We both know what it is. I suggested you come too but he wants it to be a father-son thing, you know?”

“I understand. Go, have fun, fulfill all your father-son-ness.”

“I’ll only be a couple of hours. That’s about how long it takes for Dad to become unbearably soppy with me these days.” He sat up a little straighter. “Al, I’m so pleased we can talk like this now. I really feel like you’re growing up and I’m proud of the person you’re becoming.”

Albus might have described words like that as unbearably soppy, but Scorpius knew he was using humour to hide how pleased he really was. He also knew that those words would mean the world to him coming from his own father. When Draco told Scorpius he was proud of him, he felt like Bathilda Bagshot had published another book from the grave.

“You say soppy, I say sweet,” he summarised his feelings.

Albus just pushed himself up from the bed and went to retrieve his cloak. “I’ll be back by four, promise. Back for the feast, and back in here tonight.”

He’d taken a pause, hovering around the end of his bed, as if he wanted to say something else and didn’t know how to.

“I’ll be in here, I’m sleeping here, and I don’t use my silencing charm anymore.”

Scorpius understood what he was trying to say; he was having the same worry that Scorpius was that tonight could be another nightmare night. “Thanks, Al.”

With Albus gone, it was harder to distract himself from unwanted thoughts of the Halloween before and the events which led up to it. He went to the library and tried to read, but the words wriggled around the page and refused to make any sense to his brain. His limbs felt awkward and almost achy in the library chair he’d chosen and he found himself staring longingly out of the window into the grounds below, even though it was cold. The library was busy, with practice NEWTs coming up that week, and Scorpius found he could no longer sit still and read like he’d thought he wanted to. He wanted to be outside and to move his body like never before.

Remembering what Albus often said about his new running habit clearing his head, Scorpius headed back to the dorm to bundle up for the weather and collect his music box and earphones. He paused as he considered borrowing Albus’ trainers and realised it would be rather ambitious expecting himself to run, and his own ordinary shoes would do just fine for a solitary walk around the grounds. (Besides, Albus’ feet were at least two sizes smaller than his.)

It was a crisp, cool day and a November chill was just starting to creep in, enough that Scorpius needed to bundle his Slytherin scarf up tightly around his chin. He wrapped his arms around himself and cast a passable warming charm over his coat. It meant he could complete a whole lap of the lake (which took six songs) without suffering from the cold.

As he walked, Scorpius thought over his feelings of apprehension over going to sleep that night. It was no different to any other night, really, just because it happened to be a year since everything had come to a head. The things he dreamt about usually weren’t even the things which had happened on Halloween.

The concept of time and when things happened in relation to each other almost didn’t mean anything to Scorpius anymore after their adventure with the time turner. His mum’s birthday, in late June, was a day he expected to feel especially sad about missing her. Instead, he’d found the day brought with it a sense of numbness, almost like the universe was expecting him to be sad that day so it didn’t even matter if he was or wasn’t.

Was that how it could work today? There was an expectation that today would bring up his anxiety so why did it matter what he dreamt about that night?

For completely Malfoy the Platonic reasons, he was very glad Albus had recognised he was worried. It occurred to him that it was probably because Albus himself was worried too; Halloween last year had hardly been an easy day for him either.

He was pulled from his reverie by a startled shriek which cut into his soft music. He pulled his earphones out and heard several twigs snapping and the loud cry of what sounded like a horse. Seconds later, a pure white creature appeared from behind a tree and Scorpius goggled at it.

It was a unicorn. An actual, real, right-there-in-front-of-him unicorn, wild from the Forbidden Forest. This was no Care of Magical Creatures lesson.

Was he supposed to bow? No, that was hippogriffs. Fully grown unicorns prefer witches, he remembered, which put him at a slight disadvantage.

“Come back here,” a voice hissed and the unicorn turned to survey whoever it was disdainfully. “Please, I need you. Come with me.”

In the moment the unicorn was still and staring mournfully at the person behind the tree, it disappeared from view as a pair of hands threw something over it. An invisibility cloak.

No sooner had the speaker popped out from behind the large tree, they recognised who the other was.

“Lily?”

“Scorpius?”

“What are you… why do you have… was that a unicorn?” Scorpius spluttered and Lily froze and smiled politely, as if Scorpius was just mistaken.

“What, that thing? Hmm, maybe. Haven’t really examined it closely enough yet to know for sure. Just happened across it really.” The space behind Lily moved and the cloak slipped off. Lily swore and scrambled to cover it back up again while Scorpius stared at the creature. She tugged on what Scorpius now saw was a short rope tied round the unicorn in an attempt to conceal it from view again.

“You’ve tied it up.”

Lily looked at the rope in her hands as if seeing it for the first time and stuffed it out of sight, but she said nothing.

“You’ve hidden it under James’ invisibility cloak.” Scorpius persisted.

“Okay, Scorpius, you caught me. Put me in detention, prefect. I’ve wanted a pet unicorn since I was a little girl and now I finally have one and I’m going to look after it and feed it and brush its tail and polish its horn and-“

Scorpius got the distinct impression he was being lied to.

“I’m going to leave, and I’m just going to let you get on with whatever it is you’re doing. I didn’t even see you today.” He backed away slowly and fearfully. Lily grinned sheepishly and tried to usher the unicorn in the opposite direction.

Twice now, Scorpius had come across Lily at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. He hadn’t thought much of it last time; her explanation that she was doing a pre-match yoga ritual was so Lily he’d believed every word. But the unicorn? That was definitely shady and he wasn’t sure if he should tell Albus.

“Hi, Scorpius!” A bright and unfamiliar voice carried clearly over the corner of the lake to him and he recognised the speaker as Poppy Longbottom, Lily’s best friend.

“Er, hi.”

“I’m just enjoying the view.” She grinned enthusiastically and pointed to the lake, tugging a strand of her blonde hair out from under the strap of her backpack.

“Great, enjoy.” He made to leave but she kept talking.

“Yes, isn’t Hogwarts beautiful at this time of year? Are you staying for the Christmas holidays? I am. Mum and my brother come here for the holidays and we stay with Dad. Hogwarts Christmas dinner is so good!”

She said all this very quickly and in a loud, false-sounding voice.

“That’s… interesting. Er, no, I’m going home for Christmas.”

His warming charm was wearing off and the cold air was beginning to bite at his cheeks, which had probably already turned pink in the weather; one of the disadvantages of being so pale.

“You’re not going to give me a detention are you? I didn’t even know prefects patrolled out here.” Poppy asked worriedly.

Scorpius frowned. “I’m not on patrol. Why would I give you a detention? You’re not doing anything wrong.”

Her shoulders relaxed and she breathed a sigh of relief. “Just checking. Dad’ll take my broomstick away if I get any more detentions between now and Christmas. I’ve only had twelve! That’s not even that bad…” She folded her arms exasperatedly. “And only three of them were really my fault.”

Scorpius sniggered and wondered what Professor Longbottom made of his rebellious daughter if he was threatening to take her broomstick away.

He left her grumbling about how unfair it was that Professor Vector didn’t understand her need to talk out loud to process what she was learning and headed back towards the castle entrance. The walk had done him good and he could almost see the appeal in Albus’ runs around the grounds. Almost.

The steps leading up to the door were covered in damp footprints from the wet grass below. As Scorpius began to climb up them, he heard someone calling his name from behind. Not just someone. Albus.

He turned around, pleased to see his best friend hurrying towards him, his cloak flapping behind him. A few paces back, Scorpius could see his dad too and he smiled politely. Even though he was fairly sure Harry Potter didn’t dislike him or consider him a dark cloud anymore, he was still more cautious than he was around Albus’ mum.

“What are you doing out here?” Albus asked breathlessly when he reached Scorpius. He noticed his best friend’s eyes were red-rimmed.

“Just been for a walk. Hello, Mr Potter.”

“Hi, Scorpius.” Harry came to a stop and clapped a hand on Albus’ shoulder. Now he was close enough, Scorpius could see that Harry’s eyes were red, too. “I’m just here popping in to see Neville and Minerva while I drop Albus off. How’s your year going?”

They pushed open the doors to the castle and Scorpius chatted about being a prefect and talked vaguely about OWL prep. Harry seemed genuinely interested, but Scorpius couldn’t help but notice Albus was quieter than usual. When they parted ways at the entrance to the dungeons, there was a moment of silence before they both broke it simultaneously.

“Are you alright?”

“Sorry about that.”

Scorpius was flustered. “Sorry for what? You don’t need to be sorry.”

“Sorry for my dad grilling you with questions. I know he can be a bit much.”

“No, no, it’s no problem. You know I can talk for England. I’m just pleased he seems to like me now.”

They reached the common room and Albus shook his head. “Of course he likes you. He asked about you before he even asked how I was doing on the Quidditch team.”

Scorpius smiled at this knowledge and then remembered what he needed to ask Albus.

“Are you alright? How was it?”

Albus paused and played nervously with the back of his hair. “It was… actually really nice. We talked about, you know, last year and some other stuff, and it was a bit emotional. But it was good, I liked it.”

“I’m glad you had a good time.”

“We’re about to have an even better time eating our body weight in sweets though.” They exchanged a grin and headed back to the common room to change for the Halloween Feast.

Scorpius needn’t have worried about having a nightmare, because the amount of sugar he’d consumed meant his dreams that night were more bizarre than terrifying.

It started with Professor Flitwick handing him a large rabbit at the end of Charms which Scorpius was required to carry with him when he went outside. After several shaky laps of the lake, which felt effortless, the rabbit had finally grown a full size unicorn’s horn which meant Scorpius could release it into the forest. He did so to several rounds of applause from a watching crowd of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and also his grandmother, who was wearing a peacock feather boa.

Just as Grandma was offering Scorpius a deck of Exploding Snap cards, he felt himself wake up abruptly. He stared around the dark space above him, trying to identify what had pulled him from sleep. He wasn’t too hot or too cold, he didn’t need to use the bathroom, he hadn’t been having an unpleasant dream. It was like his body had just decided he needed to be awake.

He’d once read that awaking like this meant somebody somewhere was thinking about you and their energy woke you up. Scorpius wasn’t sure how much he believed this theory; who would be thinking about him in the early hours of the morning? Dad would be asleep surely. It must be a coincidence.

As he settled onto his side, the familiar sounds of the dorm echoed around him. He could hear Higgs snoring lightly and the ticking of the overly-loud clock Cole kept on his bedside table. To his left - Albus’ side - he heard heavy breathing and suddenly a deep sniff. Scorpius blinked twice and listened for it again, remaining completely still.

He heard it again: another sniff followed by some snuffling noises. It wasn’t a sound he was used to hearing from Albus but it certainly wasn’t one he could let his best friend make by himself.

Scorpius eased himself out of bed and crept very carefully to Albus’ bedside, ready to apologise at any second, hoping he’d got it wrong. But the sound was unmistakable this close, and he gingerly pulled back the hangings of Albus’ bed to find his best friend curled up at the head of the bed, hugging his knees into his chest and softly crying into his folded arms.

He looked up at Scorpius’ intrusion and sighed, unfolding his arms only to then fold them the other way instead.

“Nightmare?” Scorpius whispered gently and Albus nodded, not making eye contact.

“Sorry,” he said tearfully, sniffing loudly and wiping his cheeks with the back of his hand. Scorpius shook his head and lowered himself down so he was sitting beside Albus on the bed. “There was me worrying about you and then I go and have one tonight.”

“Don’t apologise, you can’t help it.” He paused for a second and Albus watched him silently. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Albus shook his head firmly. “No. I want to forget it.”

It had been many months since Albus had had a nightmare at school; Scorpius thought back to fourth year when it was much more common and what had helped his best friend back then. He didn’t like to be coddled, he preferred to be distracted.

“Alright, Twenty Questions or Snog, Marry, Hex?”

Albus looked at him incredulously through tears. “Snog, Marry, Hex? When have we ever played that before?”

“We haven’t, now would be the first time.”

Albus rolled his eyes and reached for his wand, summoning the portable silencing charm and activating it inside his bed. “Okay, I’ll start. Moaning Myrtle, Rita Skeeter and Professor McGonagall.”

“On second thoughts, let’s play Twenty Questions. I’ll start.” Scorpius smiled at Albus’ triumphant smirk and crossed his legs on top of the bed. Albus threw him a spare blanket which he tossed around his shoulders and they stayed in Albus’ bed, laughing together for the next hour until Albus passed out asleep and Scorpius crept back to his own bed.

read from the beginning

<<< read chapter 10

read chapter 12 >>>

chapter index

#scorbus #Scorpius malfoy #Albus potter #Scorpius x Albus #Albus Severus potter #Albus x Scorpius #hpcc #ccsquad #Cursed Child #Harry Potter fanfiction #swflr11 #fluff is back yay

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murdered-angell · 4 years ago

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The Edge, the Push, and Drowning. (2/5)

I wish I could go back in time and relish how pure this one was. The others before this one didn’t hurt much so there’s no point in retelling those. I’m going to keep him anonymous because this isn’t to call him out or anything.

It happened during high school when I was living in Massachusetts. He had caught my eye straight away with his humor and ocean blue eyes that pierced straight through me. We had a couple classes together and he was instantly brought into my friend group. As September and October went by, it became obvious that we liked each other. Jokes would be shared during classes, hands held through the hallways, kisses on the cheek. There is no exact day that I can give. All I know is that it happened during the week of December 4th. People would ask us if we were together because of how close we became. At first neither of us would answer, then we started making jokes about it, and finally he started saying yes to people so I said yes. That was it. We never asked each other if we were together, we just knew. Our lips met and we grew together. It seemed so perfect for so long. Just 2 high school kids.

He was my first real love. But perfect didn’t last... he got suspended for certain reasons that I won’t share. Then came 5 weeks of nothing. No texts. No calls. Nothing. I sucked at communicating back then so I know it was equally my fault. Friends from our group would know more about him and his whereabouts than I did. During that same time I started getting angry. There was one day where I was sitting with our friends and everyone was talking. I don’t remember how the conversation drifted to where it got to but I do remember them suddenly talking about him and then they started congratulating me. I asked what they were talking about and they said they had talked to my boyfriend and he told them that he was no longer a virgin so they has obviously assumed that I wasn’t either. My heart stopped. I told them that wasn’t true. They said it was because he had told them at the beginning of the year that he was a virgin and then that had changed somewhere during the time that we were together. I repeated myself and they just laughed it off and the conversation changed so fast before I could even ask more.

I should have talked to him about it. I would have if I was the person I am now. But I wasn’t. I let it slide. Then he came back to school, I think it was March. Things between us where different. The conversations were more forced and I started noticing weird things. He had started growing closer to my best friend at the time. She had a lot more in common with him than I did and there were times where I would just be left in the background wishing he would remember me. I don’t believe he had cheated during that time. At least not with her. I never asked about the virginity stuff. But during all of this, my mom had started talking about moving to California. I was feeling hurt and embarassed and wanted to start over so badly so I said yes. We would be moving over the summer.

The first thing he told me when I broke the news was that he doesn’t do long distance relationships. And then we got called into separate classes and didn’t discuss what would be happening in a few months. We should have. But we didn’t so that went on the list of things we should have done but never did. Nothing really happened in the next few months. We were still together but it wasn’t the same happy feeling.

June 23rd. My birthday has gone downhill throughtout the years. This year it was spent packing so I didn’t do anything with my friends or with him due to the mountains of boxes piling up in each room of my house and the packing that needed to be done. School was over. My best friend lived 2 streets away from me so one night while all our friends were at her house, they came over to say goodbye because there was one friend that was possibly going to be on vacation before I left so they wanted to spend one last night as a full group. That night was one of the best memories I have. We were together. And I was given hope that me and him would work out because he held me and told me to text him and call. There was a moment where I forgot why I wanted to leave so badly. That was that last time I saw him as my boyfriend.

August. I saw my friend group one last time before I left for California but he wasn’t there. I said goodbye and left a few days later. Remember that list I mentioned? The one of things we should have done but never did. The last thing we should have done was break up with each other. After I moved, we stopped talking. There were a few skype calls but it was always with the group and we hardly talked one on one. I meantion how I noticed him grow close to my best friend at the time and I did say that I don’t believe he had cheated during that specific time. I remember there was one skype call months where I had zoned out doing homework and didn’t realise most of the group had left the call. My camera was off and so was my audio because I had music playing. I zoned back into the conversation when I realised it was just him and her talking. They were flirting with eachother thinking that I was asleep or had closed my computer with skype open. He called her his. And tears fell.

We never really broke up. I found out we were truely over when she texted me and said they were dating now. I never got closure. But I knew I was at fault and it wasn’t just them. My lack of communication hurt us... hurt me. I saw him when I visited the next summer but he wasn’t mine anyome. I saw him as her boyfriend. It didn’t break me, yeah it hurt but I knew I could get past it. I forgave them and we stayed friends. He’s just the one that brought me to the edge.

(to be continued in the next posts)

#my story #heart break #love #hurt #story time

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blairxeim · 7 years ago

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3 Shades of Bear Ending- Halloween

Hey guys we are kind of late with this and @stitched-yoongz totally had this done like a week ago but I am super busy and yet also lazy and that just makes one hell of a last minute rush to do shit so I completely waited until the last minute which means I wrote this all in an hour today.’ I’m sorry I'm like this. Enjoy this mess. Story under the cut and remember to view her much more happy and cute version of this prompt (HERE) that overall had such a better easy writing concept than mine. Like below the cut on mine is gonna be a shit storm please realize this and also that this is the last one we’re doing unless one of us gets sudden need to write. Anyways please enjoy the ending to our 3 Shades of Bear prompt and the ending to Aria and Grey’s story. :) And if you haven’t yet read the others here’s the link to the valentines story that started it all, a st. patricks day short, and our previous Easter part. I’m not ready guys.

I tucked the scarf into my coat then pulled it out, repeating the process trying to find a comfortable halfway point. It was cold for late October, snow lightly coating the ground. I felt cheated out of my comfortable fall weather as I stepped into the sudden artificial warmth of the grocery store. I was bought a bundle of wood and left, feeling the cold wrap around me like a second skin. It didn’t feel good, but it was a feeling. It had been months since Easter, months since I’d gone along with Grey’s contract, if you could even call it that. It all lead to tonight, Halloween. Samhain. The day the veil is thinnest. I know a lot more about him now than I did before, mostly due to his constant presence. Hard not to ask questions when you spend every hour awake and asleep with such a strange creature. He says that he is an ancient being who feeds on the primal conditions of humans. It was only of my own volition that it resulted in sex, others had more on the dismemberment side while others fell into gluttony until they puked it out. It wasn’t healthy what we had, but I had to admit that it could be worse knowing some of the vices others chose. Grey liked to say none of it was really happening, that he had no influence over the real world right now. I didn’t know if I agreed with him but I had to admit no one saw him standing next to me right now. Maybe this is all a delusion? “If I am then maybe you should get yourself checked out in a mental institution?” “No thanks Grey, I’d rather just get this over with. What was it today? A bonfire and then a sacrifice?” The cold was making me snappy. I just wanted to be cuddled up under my blankets watching a horror movie. He tilted his head, watching me like he always does. “I see no animals for a sacrifice in your future. Why bring it up then?” “If you know my thoughts already why bother asking?” I muttered, pulling my coat around me tighter. “God it’s cold out.” “Yes. You should have taken the gloves your sister gave you.” I rolled my eyes. “Thanks mom. Why do you care? You feed off my pain so isn’t me freezing good for you?” He didn’t say anything, instead turning to look out towards the parking lot as I walked to the car. “Fine, drama king, don’t answer. Let’s go home.”

It took a couple hours of cooking before I’d gotten the Samhain feast ready and set along with the bonfire preparations. I felt lack luster. Grey had wandered off most of the day, only staying by my side when I went out walking by myself to gather supplies or take a break. Before he could disappear the last time I saw him, I’d jokingly asked him if he was worried someone else was going to steal me away while he wasn’t looking. He just stared at me until my face felt hot with annoyance. He’d started to get like this these past few months and it had only gotten worse over the course of October. He only appeared like this now, outside my mind. I knew it was because of the veil lifting, but I also knew he was using unnecessary power to appear like this instead of just being a voice in my mind. Then he wants to pout for no reason? It was very strange and I didn’t know how to feel about it. So instead I baked. Now it was time to light the fire, hoping the ending ritual of our contract would at least make him happier. Yet he was nowhere to be seen, which is stupid because he was literally residing inside of my mind. “Grey!” I called out into the night, my cloud of breath curling back into the dark as if consumed. “What’s up with you? I need to finish this remember?” At least the bonfire was lit and producing heat. I sat and waited, feeling like this might have been a test, or maybe a way to back out last minute? No, I doubt that demon would allow that. He was constantly manipulating me into getting him a vessel, a body. I had no idea what he meant when he said it wasn’t possession, but if he didn’t hurry up there would be nothing. I had work tomorrow. When it was near eleven thirty, nearly two hours later, the bonfire had burned down to embers and I was feeling pissed. It felt like I’d been stood up at a date and a job all in one. I got up and turned to storm back into the house when I collided with a solid object. I let out a gasp, falling backwards. Before I fell on my butt, a hand snatched my wrist while another snaked around my waist, pulling me up. I looked up in shock at what was before me. Who was before me. It wasn’t hard to figure out it was Grey, staring down at me with his dark black eyes. His hair wasn’t the ethereal grey anymore but a very light blonde, almost silver. Most importantly, he was warm and solid to the touch. I gaped at him, mesmerized. “How.... how did you? I didn’t go through with the ritual... did I?” He frowned, looking at anything but me. “No. You didn’t.” His voice was strange. I was used to the strange echoes of thought in my mind. This felt flat. Ordinary. I felt my heartbeat pick up, my stomach starting to twist in anxious knots. ”Did I mess up? You never told me anything... I didn’t understand!” He shushed me, a small smirk playing on his lips. He didn’t say anything, just handed me a paper that had his true name written in what I assumed was a very old language. My soul knew his name in every form by this point, but I was unsure what he wanted. I raised a brow, only to have him point towards the fire pit. “But why?” I still had the feeling of anxiety that curled around my stomach. “This isn’t how this is supposed to go. Things you want to be let go of go into the fire to be burned!” I started to feel hot rage simmer in my guts. “Did I fuck up? How? Tell me! What did I possibly do that you didn’t ask of me? I know I can’t physically break the contract and I know damn well you know it too so what the fuck is this?” I was completely pissed off, though why should I be? Our contract had died off recently. He didn’t come to me in my dreams, or if he did he was a part of the background, never showing himself to me fully. He had literally become a phantom, only watching but never touching me. This was the first contact in a while and he was acting like this. Grey narrowed his eyes, his voice cold and angry. “Do it or I will.” I pulled my arm back, though in no way out of the reach of his long arms. “I will if you tell me why.” In his human form I could see the light heat on his cheeks from the cold as he pulled my face to his angrily. It had been too long and I hungrily ate up the contact. When we parted, I was panting for breath and we were both glaring at the other. “That’s why!” He growled. ”That literally makes no sense! You need more fuel?” I pushed away from him, yet unable to pull away as he tightened his grip on my waist. ”No! This is all because of your messed up head! This is why I hate you flesh bags! I said I wouldn’t let this happen again and here I am.” I stopped, “again?” He sighed, letting his arms drop. “I got bored before, tried this before. The end of the ritual meant you would die and I would just go back to what I was doing before. I lied. Big surprise.” “WHAT?” I shouted, pounding on his chest. “I figured I was going to die but you weren’t even going to get a body out of it? You jackass!” ”I am literally an immortal being that has no morals set by your society? How is that a big surprise to you? Honestly?” I stilled, looking at him with sudden realization. “So why are you like this? You’re.... human?” “Well... It turns out that being in your stupid head gave me some nostalgia for human life.” “You could do this at any time?” I gaped. Grey shrugged. “Of course not. I did need to wait until the veil thinned, but I am a being outside of your comprehension.” “You’re an ass.” “You’re ridiculous. Just get on with it and burn that!” I grabbed his arm, my other hand gripping the paper tightly. “What are you going to do when I burn this? When we don’t have this contract between us and it’s just you and me like this?” He smirked, making me feel insane. “Guess you’ll have to see, love.” It felt weird. It lacked the predatory feeling it always had before. He hadn’t said it in a long while, even though he knew I loved it when he did despite the lording way he used it. I stared at him. He looked so soft now. His eyes were no longer the cold, endless void of a sadistic monster, yet they still seemed to be eating up every part of me. Like this would be the last time he could do this. I didn’t know what to do. What to say. So I just said, “Guess I will.” I numbly went over the the fire, the air overly warm and turning uncomfortable as the paper fluttered into the flames. It disappeared almost instantly. Almost as quickly tears started pouring out of my eyes. I didn’t want to turn around. He wouldn’t be there if I did. I knew he wouldn’t. The worse part was that I was almost as relieved as mortified.

“Come on!” My sister screamed from the car, sounding annoyed and impatient, “we’re going to be late!” “Ugh. I don’t even want to go to this fucking...” My words trail off into mumbling as I ran out of the house anyways. My hair kept catching on the edges of my mask, a silly little thing made of lacy fabric. I was almost as uncomfortable in the ballgown-like dress as my sister and we both yelled obscenities the whole way to the party as we tried to navigate the skirts of our dresses while driving in our crappy jeep. We finally arrived at the party, late of course. We raced inside, quickly checking in at the door so they knew we came. It was something for my sister’s work and was a mandatory event for her. I was just her plus one she refused to waste. “Please tell me I don’t have to dance at this thing.” I hissed at her, without watching where I was going. “I just want the free foo-” I was cut short as I collided with someone. We both let out gasps of surprise as I started to fall backwards in a sea of dress skirts. I never made it to the ground as his hand quickly snatched my wrist as the other one snaked around my waist, catching me mid-fall. My eyes widened as I stared at him. “Are you okay?” I knew that hint of a smirk in his voice, though it seemed softer now. “I thought I burnt you away.” My voice was numb, emotionless. “Think of it as a fresh start. Time to heal.” “A year is a long time.” He pulled me back into a standing position and narrowed his eyes. “It was an opportunity, for you that is. Are you here with someone?” I met his eyes, different emotions playing within them. “Me!” My sister interjected, looking up and down at Grey. “And you are?” He looked at me, raising a brow. What was he? A demon who gave me everything I wanted while driving me into the darkest place I’d ever been in my life? A lover who sacrificed his claim on my soul for some strange change of heart? “What are we? What are you? Are you....” Human? Could he still read my mind? “We can work on that later.” He shrugged before motioning inside. “But for now, care to dance?” “Oh she doesn’t-” “Guess you’ll have to see.” I sighed while grabbing onto his waiting elbow so he could lead me inside. He smirked as my sister’s mouth gaped open. “Guess I will.” I turned and pulled him into a kiss that left a slight blush on his face. “Don’t you ever disappear like that again.” “It’s a deal.” I was relieved he still had that devilish grin hiding in there, and all I could do was grin right back at him as we entered into the chaotic sound of the party.

END

GOD I hate how I ended this yet also feel like it’s fine? It’s fine. Happy halloween I’m super late and I barely remembered finishing this thanks to @stitched-yoongz so thanksssss. I don’t think Grey is human, but he is acting as a human. He knew Aria would be there that night. He gave her time to forget about him because basically during the time he fed off of her and lived in her mind, her thoughts and feelings kind of tainted him a little. That’s why he doesn’t do it too often, it happened the last time too though he still killed the other person. I guess Aria just made him a big softy. No smutt or anything this time I’m not really in the mood for it and I feel like to have a healthy relationship from here on out they need to work on how they interact outside of sex. Though I’m sure Aria will miss magic mind sex, as Grey is pretty much human right now and cannot exit his current form without losing it. I missed a lot of the little stories that would have built up this story so I know it seems kind of like a sudden jump from last time. That’s totally my bad but I agreed with Tina that Halloween should be the end and I wasn’t really feeling that motivated to write, also lacking the time to do so.

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spraffin · 8 years ago

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03/04/17

MARCH

I know tomorrow is going to come because I’ve seen it. Sunrise is going to come, all you have to do is wake up. The future has been at war, but it’s coming home so soon.

March arrived quietly; entered stage left without making too much noise, and sat down without a fuss. It came with a warm breeze and new hope, new self-worth, and new goals. When February had finished its perfomance, it had bowed with feigned humility, and clambered undaintily down from the stage. February knows how impressive it was. February wore me out with progress, and had me sleeping so often that it took me a while to notice how much harder I was living while I was awake. On the day of my audition, I was finally able to access the sweeping confidence I adopt whenever I feel fulfilled - the same confidence I use when I’m working with kids at Glen and at parties with new friends. I felt tall and upright and genuine. Tara from my building in Granton was there, and I was struck by my progress since leaving from the moment I greeted her - I considered her a close friend, but until then I don’t think we’d ever had a conversation in which I was properly focused on her, since I was always so overwhelmed by anxiety. We took part in a two hour workshop and I charged into it with more energy than I knew I had. I delivered my monologue one and a half times without panicking, and I was congratulated for an entertaining and engaging performance. Following this we were interviewed privately. A stern woman with curly hair who Fin had described to me as a “terror” talked softly to me about my options and why I’d left Granton a third of the way into my course. She was very gentle and told me how brave she thought I must be. A few days later, I got an unconditional offer. The idea of a future is so strange and foreign when you’re in recovery. It’s overwhelming to suddenly be confronted with a limitless stream of possibilities that you never thought you’d see again - to be re-met by opportunities you’ve already mourned. I am confused, but excited. I’m getting stronger and stronger.

We are all going to be part of each other one day. The future is a blue sky and a full tank of gas.

I accepted the offer and thought hard about performing. There’s little I feel more wonderful doing. I love comedy, I love singing, I love pretending, I love making up bits on the spot. I love being looked at and admired and laughed at. Empathy makes me so much better at being entertaining. I love feeling huge and bright. I love other people and I love them in a crowd, whether they’re sat in rows beneath me or gathered around me at a party. My entire understanding of self-esteem is about performance. I can’t function without it so I’m going to learn how to do it better.

March came with warm days and tough mornings, slow nights. I spent time with Lauryn and skipped rehearsal more than once and slept and played guitar. Rinse and repeat. But then came the end of the month, and the journey to Northamptonshire.

TRAVELLING

Lord I’m one, Lord I’m two, Lord I’m three, Lord I’m four, Lord I’m 500 miles from my home.

I took my medication and climbed onto the coach, and slept until we reached Glasgow. It was dark and gorgeous and raining, and I grinned and wriggled in my seat and fell asleep again. Birmingham at six A.M. The sun rose through thick white fog while I sat in the dark rail station. I felt euphoric but so relaxed. I smiled hard as the train pulled into Northampton. I got on an eight A.M bus full of English school kids who yelled in abrasive shrill accents. Spencer and I found each other in Kettering, and the weight of our friendship was overwhelming and so sweet and thick and heavy like honey.

The next few days passed in a blur of blankets and patterned curtains and sunlight glowing into a cup of tea. I basked in the rare and amazing gift of total comfort in the presence of someone else. Alice turned out to be the most beautiful cat in the world. Megan and I swapped books and we visited a country park with Spencer’s nieces. The kids were adorably goofy and charming and told us they knew being gay was okay because they watched Shane Dawson. We had ice creams and then headed home for noodles and incredibly cheap wine, the kind that tastes like acetone and should really be saved for when you’re drinking in a public park in your school uniform. We laughed - I remember laughter as an almost permanent state that I lived in while in England - and made beautiful art and ugly art and explored Northampton. I was glum and drained for the return journey, and found Birmingham ten times as beautiful at four A.M than I had the first time I’d passed through. Chinatown glowed red in the darkness, like the last embers of a fire, the wind biting. I walked back and forth for miles to kill time before the coach left. I made it home after fourteen hours and fell immediately into bed.

Then, the days were tired and nerve-wracking. I napped on Lauryn and painted blue and green and gold onto her eyelids. Heather went to a job interview and I sat next to her smiling smugly, internally screaming “that’s my friend!”. Imogen and I went to see a singing competition. Lucy was immense as usual, belting angrily, so much power coming from a tower of five-foot-nothing, commanding attention in her uniquely compelling way. Rachael was angelic and soft and sweet, and her face exploded into a smile when she won.

My family left for the Lake District on Friday evening, and I packed frantically for Edinburgh. I was overcome with anxiety - my ribs throttled my heart like a cage and I breathed as if it was my last chance. I knew I wouldn’t be going near Granton, but my head was reeling and spinning as I pictured Princes Street. I thought about the frost underneath my feet in Sighthill, the sun over Leith Walk, crying on the tram, crying on the bus, crying in the rain, crying in my bedroom. I remembered my panic and anxiety about my friends from Glen, and how fervently I believed that none of them could ever or had ever loved me. I took my medicine and slept for as long as I could bear.

EDINBURGH

Olivia was texting me, and kept me distracted for much of the train journey, but the coldness rose up my throat and choked me, and when I stepped into the station something inside me collapsed. I was shaky, but I walked until the sun hit me, and then I found Josh and Rowan. It was hard, but I forced myself to focus, and concentrated with all of my might on where I was and who they were, and then I was okay. My hands shook while I ate lemon tart in Costa, at the same table I’d sat at when I’d seen Holly at the beginning of October. Rowan was gentle and I looked at her and not out of the window at the city. By the time Elyse had arrived, I was stable.

We made it to the cathedral early, and the sunshine was streaming through the stained-glass and I was teasing Josh and Rowan about their affection for each other. We found Gordon immediately, then Kate, then Tembu, and I made Kerridge’s lip bleed when I jumped into a hug with her, and when I caught Ley-Anne she said “Did you bring the posters? Good. Oh yeah - also hello, and I love you.”

Tembu chose Josh and me to represent SEC youth in a video for General Synod. The producers recorded me describing my experiences with faith, then followed me around with a camera for a while. We knelt down to write our favourite memories from camp on a huge paper banner. We squashed around a table littered with chainmail materials and Tembu brandished pliers. We ate lunch with the Glen DVDs blaring in the background, cries of nostalgia and joy echoing from every direction. Finally, we were herded into an ante-chapel where Claire Starr sat wielding a copy of Winnie the Pooh. Time for a little something. Kiron, Tembu’s youngest, climbed over my lap restlessly until I scooped him up and we headed outside to run around.

I found Aidan and Hannah, Rebecca and Iain gaggled together underneath the cathedral, singing. Samuel climbed the wall and stood miles above us. Rebecca and I breezed into the ceilidh hall to watch the band set up. I saw Claire BE rush her way into a red dress and hurry back into the throng like a hero to organise it all. When Andrew arrived, everything felt warmer. I’d missed my best friend. I danced all but one dance, sweated and laughed and jumped and whooped and ran. There is nothing more fun than a ceilidh. There is no better way to wallow in the experience of your love for your friends.

Emily guided me to the tomato quiche and stuffed me with samosas, and Rachel and Claire congratulated me on my recovery in the cold dark outside where we drank water and Taylor smoked. I was in my element all evening, making everyone laugh, and I was never lost for words. I feel like I am becoming myself again. I am better.

We roared Auld Lang Syne and charged at each other in a messy overexcited throng. Rebecca was so lit up and happy, and I felt exactly how she looked. I was so lighthearted. The delegates left and the leaders pulled chairs into a wide, messy circle, pulling out beers and wine and cider, chatting excitedly. I chucked an ice pack at my twisted ankle, grinning wildly and teasing Taylor, yelling protests at anyone who made a face at my Lambrini. “Get a fucking life, Thalia!” “It costs £1.50, ya dick!”

For to see her was to love her! Love but her, and love forever!

We entertained each other with stories and jokes and games. Before the circle finally dissipated into several groups, Mark got up and sang Ae Fond Kiss. His voice filled the room and I watched as everyone closed their eyes, sat back, let it spill over them. I felt lucky. I feel lucky.

Kirsty and I shrieked with laughter twenty times per conversation, and Kerridge ranted about her overwhelming affection for me only three ciders in. Ley-Anne and I spoke quietly about all that had happened to us and I plaited her hair. I felt the night come in strong as I flitted between the clusters of my friends, laughing and chatting to each and every one of them. I drank Taylor’s rum and we held hands and giggled with Neil for hours on end. We charged into the kitchen area at three A.M like animals to a watering hole to eat bread and red velvet cake, and then I grabbed my blanket and we settled down on the floor and finally fell asleep.

We woke because we were cold. My teeth chattered, and we climbed first to the thermostat and then to the plate of leftover quiche. Hannah ambled over to sit in front of our radiator, grumbling up a storm with sleep in her eyes. Everything was so easy. When did everything get so easy?

Mark addressed the cathedral and told us all that Glen fuels his ministry. Tembu thanked us and God for the camp. I am so lucky. I am so lucky. Samuel and I read the intercessions and I gave Andrew the card I made for him and Rachel. It took so long to extricate myself from the group - farewell hugs occupied us for fifteen minutes. I can’t believe I once feared I’d never be back with these friends. I headed down Princes Street in the brilliant sunlight to find Jodie and Rebecca in the gardens. We ate lunch under a tree and chatted a little sleepily but so happily.

I am tired now, but I can see how fast I’m improving. I want to feel ambitious again, and I’m working so hard. I’m really, really proud of myself.

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365footballorg-blog · 6 years ago

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Kick Off: KO Round closing | Nashville hires GM | Will Basti, Ibra return?

Hate missing the Kick Off? Of course, you do. Sign up for The Kick Off e-mail.

October 30, 201811:23AM EDT

Here is everything you need to know about MLS and North American soccer today:

Decision Day winners and losers

Before we move on to the MLS Playoffs, Bobby Warshaw took one last look at Decision Day presented by AT&T to pick who flew highest and who suffered most on the final day of the 2018 regular season. READ MORE

Vela rarin’ to go

Thanks to what he calls his “second preseason,” LAFC star Carlos Vela has declared himself ready for his first taste of the Audi 2018 MLS Cup Playoffs. The veteran attacker says coach Bob Bradley forced him to take some days off after the World Cup sapped his energy, and that mini-break has helped re-charge his batteries for the MLS Cup chase. READ MORE

Don’t forget the D.C. defense

Much has been said about the impact of LuchoRoo in D.C. United’s charge to the postseason, but local blog Black-And-Red United took a moment to give some love to the club’s improved performance at the back. D.C. have experienced a ton of turnover in defense throughout the season, but are now in a stretch where they’ve conceded just twice in six games. READ MORE

Gifted with the sixth seed, RSL focused on LAFC

Backing into the postseason might play on the minds of some, but Real Salt Lake insist they’re fully ready to set aside how they got in and take advantage the opportunity. The idle Claret-and-Cobalt had their ticket punched for a Knockout Round matchup at LAFC when the LA Galaxy blew a two-goal lead to lose at home on MLS Decision Day presented by AT&T. READ MORE

Davies to join Bayern first team

If anyone had wondered where outgoing Vancouver phenom Alphonso Davies would fit in immediately upon arrival at Bayern Munich, manager Niko Kovac cleared that right up on Monday: “One thing is certain,” Kovac said, “when you spend that much money on a player, then you don’t park him at the reserves.” READ MORE

An MLS Playoff “What if… ?”

What started as a conversation around the office blossomed into an impromptu MLS Playoff fantasy draft of a different sort. The Extra Time Radio crew took turns selecting a player to hypothetically join each postseason participant from a club that fell short of the playoffs. How’d they do? READ MORE

Nashville MLS announce GM hire

Nashville MLS owner John Ingram chats with new GM hire Mike Jacobs at training. | NashvilleSC.com

Nashville’s MLS expansion club announced Tuesday morning that current Nashville SC technical director Mike Jacobs will serve as the first general manager for Nashville MLS. In an exclusive interview with MLSsoccer.com, Ian Ayre told Sam Stejskal that it became clear Jacobs was “the best option” after six other interviews. READ MORE | HIRING NEWS

Who will stay, who will go?

Outside the playoff field, thoughts are turning toward 2019, with some league stars staring at cloudy club futures. Over in Chicago, Bastian Schweinsteiger says he and the team will take a little time to think before meeting to discuss whether he’ll return in 2019 or not. READ MORE

Over in Los Angeles, the Galaxy have several squad situations up in the air, chief among them the return status of Zlatan Ibrahimovic. However, club President Chris Klein says he’s confident the strike superstar will be back. READ MORE

It’s also beginning to look like there could be plenty of change in New England. Among those whose returns are in question: Juan Agudelo, Diego Fagundez and Kelyn Rowe. READ MORE

MLSsoccer.com Must-Watch

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Kick Off: KO Round closing | Nashville hires GM | Will Basti, Ibra return? was originally published on 365 Football

#Basti #closing #hires #Ibra #kick #Nashville #return #Round

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kim-seungmine · 6 years ago

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excerpt: when it’s past midnight

title: when it’s past midnight

characters: reader x han jisung of stray kids (feat. kim woojin, lee felix, and lee minho of stray kids + shin ryujin of itzy)

genre: if i could add a spinning, glittery gif of “slice-of-life” then i would, romance, radio DJ!AU, let’s appreciate jisung’s talking voice y’all.

word count: -

warnings: cursing, mentions of drinking

synopsis: jisung is lost but he found you--who are hiding and don’t want to be found.

a/n: posting an excerpt once again because i need more motivation to write in the midst of my current schedule. and it’s because im just so impatient at myself and want to share with you.

UPDATE: FULL VER IS UP! Please search my masterlist on my bio bc I can't put links here

Han Jisung fell in love.

What the hell are you talking about?

In the middle of all the mess, there was one thing he believed.

Jisung loved you, probably at first sight and although he tried to dismiss it then, now he was sure he loved you. And it all started a minute after midnight.

October 2020

“So you’re not going back? What the hell man, we had a deal!” Woojin deadpanned as Felix let out a dejected sigh. “I thought you would consider coming back,” he said. Jisung shrugged, ready to provide pathetic reasons when he suddenly got an idea.

“Woojin,” he began. “Can I host with your current DJ? They are amazing and I definitely don’t want to replace them. But can you please let me host with them? Just to say goodbye, for old time’s sake.”

“I don’t know, Jisung. Y/N has already submitted the script for today’s broadcast last night—”

“Unlike you who submit scripts 2 hours before broadcast.”

“Thanks for the reminder, Felix.”

“You’ll let me host with them, right?”

“Will anyone let me finish talking?!”

“Sorry.”

You frowned upon seeing Jisung, while he tried to remember if he had seen you before. He noticed that you took a glance at the framed photo of Woojin, Felix, and him on the wall before you realized that this was Han Jisung himself . Well, he still looked pretty much the same, except his hair was no longer blond.

Jisung extended his hand to you, and he was pleasantly surprised with how firm your handshake was. He hated people who gave half-hearted handshakes, although strong handshakes couldn’t guarantee that someone wouldn’t be an asshole.

“I listened to the broadcast last night, and man you’re so good at this! The listeners love you. I wouldn’t want to change that,” he praised. “I just want to co-host with you once—for old time’s sake—and then I’m out. Gotta catch up with all my classes.”

Woojin rolled his eyes. “Y/N’s just being polite. Just finish quickly and go back to studying. Nobody remembers you anyways.”

You passed Jisung your script as Felix knocked on the glass door. “We’re starting in 10, 9, 8, 7...”

“When it’s past midnight, your mind runs wild and wonders if there’s someone out there who’s willing to listen to you. That person is me Y/N and today we have a special guest.”

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performingtheartsrp · 8 years ago

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Accepted Quinn Application

OOC:

NAME: Jillian

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: Her/She.

AGE: 25+

TIMEZONE: EST

ACTIVITY LEVEL (1-10): Right now, 8, but that’ll probably go down to maybe a 5 when I start working simply because I’ll be working at night 4 days a week so I won’t be around in evenings. But on my days off, I’ll be completely present.

OLD ROLEPLAY ACCOUNTS: RFP

ANYTHING ELSE: RFP

IC:

CHARACTER’S NAME: Lucille Quinn Fabray CHARACTER’S BIRTHDAY: October 12th; age: 26 CHARACTER’S SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Identifies as straight, at the moment. SHIPS: Quinn + Chemistry. ANTI-SHIPS: Quinn + No Chem/Forced. MIDGAME SHIPS: I’m really open to Mid-games, as long as the other person respects that the relationship is midgame and we choose a time when it WILL end and they stick to it. I’m open to a mid-game for anyone that Q has chemistry with, but it will most likely lean toward a male.

CHARACTER TWEETS:

@theequinnfabray: set. filming. hot yoga. shower. dinner. 4:30am-9pm. rinse/repeat. #actorlife @theequinnfabray: Book recs?? Need new DLs for my Kindle while waiting on set. @theequinnfabray: OMG just had the best smoothie of my life from @ LiquidJuiceBar. Green Manna w/ wheatgrass. BIOGRAPHY: When Quinn (named Lucille Quinn Fabray) was born as the second daughter to Russell and Judy Fabray, they agreed that their family was complete. Russell had always wanted a son, but he fell in love with his daughters and spoiled them to no end. Quinn was raised in Bronxville, New York, while her father worked on Wall Street in New York City. Quinn was completely spoiled in every way. She had a horse, played piano and violin, played tennis and golf, and did ballet as a child. She liked performing, but once she was ten, her father took her out of dance to let her focus more on the sports aspect since she had talent there. As she grew up, she realized that her life was already laid out for her. It was clear that grades didn’t matter because her father would pay her way to get into any school. It was also clear that it didn’t matter what she wanted to do as an adult. She was being groomed to attend college and achieve a degree in anything, but what was most important was being a good future wife and mother. Both her parents pressed the importance to Quinn that she always appear beautiful and to demand respect and attention from male companions. At the beginning, Quinn was fine with that. After all, her older sister, Francine, followed those rules and she flourished. She went off to college at Brown and was engaged by her senior year. But, when it came time for Quinn to go to school, she found she actually wanted a career. She wanted to do something with her life. However, her interests were in English, Literature, and the Arts, but her parents both thought they were a waste of time. They were an okay hobby, but jobs for the poor or middle class. She needed elite status. Quinn had worked hard on her grades in high school, even though she knew she didn’t have to, and it made her feel all the more better once she had been accepted into Yale. She felt she actually earned it herself. When she entered Yale, she was undeclared, but the pull toward the arts was strong and she took an acting class in her first semester. That was all Quinn had needed. Her professor said she had natural talent and beauty and pushed her into auditioning for the Yale School of Drama. She was ecstatic to get in, but that was short lived because when her parents found out, they were incredibly mad. Her father even threatened to stop funding her education, but he never did. When Quinn graduated, she felt like a better person for it. She had done this all on her own. She hadn’t been pressured into it like she had with all of her activities as a child or teenager. She was finally in control of her own life. Which is why she moved west. She didn’t want to be on Broadway. She wanted to be in the movies and on TV. Her parents were even more upset at her decision to move and it made their relationship very strained. She realized the only reason her father never pulled his funding was because he assumed she was still going to settle and get married, like her sister, who was already married with a baby. But that wasn’t Quinn’s life and she moved to Los Angeles. It was a slightly slow start for Quinn. She received small roles, but they were speaking parts that granted her a SAG card and got her a management team, which landed her a role on a short lived show where she met her future (now ex) boyfriend, Mike Chang. Quinn liked the relationship, Mike was a cool person and she enjoyed hanging with him. But once the show ended and other cameos pulled her from spending time with him, the media started to rip apart their relationship. There was too many rumors of cheating, which wasn’t happening, and her mother kept calling to tell her to break up with him, which was simply incredibly irritating, and Quinn decided they should just be friends. (note: this may be edited based on Mike’s bio) Quinn began auditioning again and filmed two indie shorts, which were nice ways to flex her acting muscle as she tried to land her next big role. When her manager sent her her the sides to read for Ivy Grant for /Performing The Arts/, she was very excited. She felt she could easily pull from her experiences to act the crap out of the role. She auditioned and thought it was fantastic. They called her back to read again, however, this time it was for Lennon Cole. Quinn was surprised because she didn’t think she fit the type, but as she learned of Lennon’s background, she found she actually could identify very well with her. She read for the part and got it. Again, Quinn’s happiness was short lived when her manager called and told her she didn’t want her to take the part. She said it had the potential to change her career path for the rest of her life. The character could be mean, sarcastic, rude and somewhat dragged through the mud, not to mention that she’s a lesbian. While Quinn was also was concerned about being type casted, she also didn’t like her management trying to control her like her parents did so she took the part. As she read over the script for the pilot, Quinn became a little more excited about her role. It was something different, not as easy for her as playing the pretty, bitchy blonde girl. If this was the start of a career with characters off the beaten path, Quinn was sure she was going to enjoy the walk.

YOUR CHARACTER’S HEAD CANON FOR THEIR CHARACTER: Lennon Cole was a picture perfect daughter until she reached the age of twelve. It was then that she realized she was gay. There were signs before, finding she didn’t relate to her girl friends when they’d talk about cute boys and wanting to kiss them. But by the time she was twelve, she realized she did know what those girls were talking about, except that she wanted to kiss other girls, not boys. She kept this hidden from everyone and found it difficult to stay in her friends group as she started to find all those girls very pretty. Their parents were friends with her parents, so they spent quite a lot of time together. It was when Lennon was thirteen that she started to rebel. It was slow, at first, as she dropped out of the hobbies her parents placed her in as a child. Then, she stopped hanging out with her friends and began to hang out with some of the burner kids at her prep school.

Lennon felt she didn’t fit in anymore, but with the burnouts, they all had troubles, and she did too. She didn’t fit in her family. She wasn’t Republican, she hated those ideals, and they way they treated anyone who wasn’t exactly like them. She was starting to be worried her parents would find out she was a lesbian and kick her out at any minute. The anxiety and stress made focusing in school difficult and Lennon started to skip class. When her parents found out about her grades dropping and skipping class, they grounded her and gave her a tutor.

That simply made everything worse. The extra attention was painful and while Lennon knew the answers to her tests, she started to fail them on purpose. She didn’t want to be in her dumb prep school anymore. It was too much pressure to hide who she was and not let anything slip. If anyone found out the real her, she knew it would get back to her parents and that would be the end of it. But her parents donating money kept Lennon there despite her attempts to get out.

Since that didn’t work, she cut her hair, she dyed it pink, and she made a point to get caught smoking in the bathroom. The smoking alone was enough to get her near expulsion but with the failing grades and the disregard to the dress code, her parents had to pull her out so she would not have expulsion on her permanent record. At a loss for what to do, Lennon suggested New Burton to her parents, knowing she’d fit in better there, and claimed that the fact that it focused on the arts would help with her self expression. She told them that was the main problem, she had no outlet for her creativity. They agreed in the hopes she would outgrow her phase and then be able to go back to another private school once her phase ran its course, but that has yet to happen.

#quinn fabray rp #accepted

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