#Alright I'm pretty sure I'm done going on about how bad the writing is
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curious-shadow-cat · 1 year ago
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....
So, Vox looks like Alastor because he wants to be him, okay, good, makes sense finally. Because he wants Val to see HIM and love HIM, he's another victim to Val like Anthony (I'm not calling him Angel anymore now that they showed his name), and YET we're meant to see him as the villain and feel sorry for Anthony even though they just keep writing him out like a joke. I can see why people like Vox more than the other characters, I'm glad people want Val dead.
I think I'm starting to get why V*v kept saying it's like Bojack Horseman BUT THE THING IS Vox isn't having "mommy issues" and going around doing stuff that Bojack did (There's more to that show, it's better to go watch it if you're curious), Vox is in an abusive relationship with Val and he can't get out of it, again he hates him but he loves him and he's thinking:"If I can be this amazing person that everyone loves then maybe Val will love me again and things can go back to normal!" Except he never loved him, it's been mentioned that Val wants Asmodeus (Whatever his name is) to notice him so really I can see why Val needs Vox, so that he shows off his work to try and impress "Ozzy". But he never will since he hates him. Val is feeding Vox's jealousy and finds it funny how upset he gets when he hears about Alastor or Anthony you can see it on his face and the way he acts.
Again, I've only been able to watch reactions and some of the bits been cut out of the episodes, but yeah I hate how they're treating both Anthony and Vox like they're a joke/villain just so V*v can keep the awful r*pe ship. I want to be fair though and hope that they kill off Val. As long as Val's dead that's what needs to happen. No one needs a damn spin off of the three V's. And none of that "Oh he was only evil because--" bullshit.
I hate just jumping to being like "This show is awful and poorly written" after just watching a few of the episodes, especially now that there's someone else trying to put effort into writing them. Trying anyway.
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restinslices · 3 months ago
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Can we take our beautiful boy Smoke's virginity? 🙌🏾
I was thinking of a drabble but you can write this however you find easier ;)
If Tomas has no fans, then I'm dead. No gender is specified and reader is a softie because it's what everyone in this situation deserves. Also POV jumps from his to the readers. This was supposed to be a drabble but then I kept typing :D
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Tomas was considered behind when it came to certain life experiences. It wasn't something he was necessarily ashamed of, but it was something he knew was true. His type of life didn't allow him to worry about certain things.
Dating was one of them. He knew that teenagers and young adults were supposed to date and experiment, but he never did. Never dated anyone, never held hands, kissed someone, went beyond that.
That didn't mean he had no desire to.
"Are you sure?" You asked softly, eyes observing his reaction to everything. "We can stop. I won't be upset or anything". The truth was that you wanted him badly, always had and always would. You would've certainly lost track if you had to count the amount of times you daydreamed about having him all to yourself, lips on yours, hips moving in a steady rhythm. But a relationship and sex wasn't a one way street. You wouldn't pressure him to do anything he wasn't comfortable with, even if you would be old and wrinkly by the time he wanted to be inside of you.
Tomas on the other hand felt a sense of nervousness he had never felt before. As bad as it sounds, killing someone was easy. He did it without thinking. Now though, you were depending on him for pleasure. "I'm gonna be incredibly bad at this... " he mumbled.
"That's alright" you said in the same soft tone, hand wrapping around his, which was wrapped around his cock. "Everyone's first time is weird. You'll get better over time. I'll help you".
Your other hand cupped his face, your thumb tracing his cheekbone when you noticed him leaning into your touch. "You can say no whenever and we'll stop. I promise"
"I want this". Nerves and all, he wanted this. Your hand stayed on his, guiding him closer and closer to your entrance, his nerves becoming stronger.
And then his nerves stopped, replaced by something far stronger; pleasure. He felt a chill go down his spine, and he only had the tip in. How long was he expected to last when you felt this good?
He felt equally good to you. Sure, you had been with other men before, but they were smaller. Everything about Tomas was bigger - his dick, his arms, his pecs, his height, everything about him made him better than any man you ever met.
You continued guiding him, making him stretch you around his cock slowly until eventually you could feel his balls pressed against you. And although you wanted him to pound inside of you right then and there, you forced yourself to remain patient. Tonight wasn't just about you. It was about him. Your arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer to you, taking in how pretty he looked with his lips parted and deep breathes coming in and out of him.
"Wow" was all he could muster when he finally spoke.
"Good wow or bad wow?
"Definitely good- wait. How long am I supposed to last?
"Uhh" how long? Um, long enough? You didn't know if there was an average time, but you knew the chances were low that he'd make it. "Don't worry about lasting long. It's your first time, okay? You'll last however long you last"
He nodded before his lips found yours, muffling both of your gasps as he pulled out, then pushed himself back in. "Was that okay?
"Perfect. Keep doing that" your legs wrapped around him, keeping him close as he began to find his rhythm.
Tomas couldn't understand why he hadn't done this with you before. Well, he understood that he simply wasn't ready before now, but the way you gripped him made him forget all about those previous worries. You were perfect. Stretching you open was almost too easy, but now that he was inside you, your hole held him tightly, letting him feel every bit of you. Every bit of your insides that were made for him.
He didn't know how fucked out he looked. That's what added to your pleasure besides the obvious. He had bit down on his lip to stifle his moans at first, but after some time he just couldn't keep quiet. If he wasn't kissing you, whines were falling out his mouth. Here he was, an assassin with arms bigger than your hands and a heavy cock in between his legs, whining because of how good you felt.
It wasn't one sided. He felt perfect to you aswell. His thick cock stretched you open, his veins rubbing against your insides. You hardly needed to instruct him. His tip always managed to be exactly where you needed it to be.
"I'm-" his sentence was cut off by a choked groan, his eyes squeezing shut as he shot his load inside of you.
You placed soft kisses on his cheeks, soothing him as he came down from his orgasm. "You did really good" you praised in between kisses.
His head fell to the crook of your neck, your fingernails gliding along his scalp and you unwrapping your legs around him. "You didn't cum" you heard him mumble against your neck. Well, you both had known he wouldn't last long
"No big deal. Tonight wasn't about me, it was about you. Did you like it?
"You have to ask?
You chucked, "I just enjoy clear communication"
"Then yes, I liked it". He lifted his head up enough to give you a kiss on the cheek, "should I feel this tired after?
You nodded, then tried to push him off only to feel him swat your hands away. "Wanna fuck you again, just need to breathe. Stay"
Who were you to turn your pretty boy down?
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dat-town · 6 months ago
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abcdlove
Characters: school radio club leader!Taesan & class president!female reader
Setting & genre: high school au, coming of age, first love, fluff, a hint of enemies to lovers but it’s only in the girl’s head
Summary: You convinced yourself that you hated Han Taesan after what he had done in sophomore year but now you have to work together on a senior project and maybe he isn’t that bad. Or maybe just for your heartbeat.
Warnings: stage names are used, OC has negative opinion about Taesan and Leehan in the beginning, mentions of social and parental pressure, the amount of banana milk consumed might not be healthy, hopefully not too ooc even though i wrote it within like 2 weeks after @restlessmaknae started sending me bonedo content
Words: 9.6k
Author’s note: this is the product of the amount of Ann Liang books i binge read recently, the instagram algorithm and @restlessmaknae’s marketing for Zico’s kids. this really pulled me out of my writing slump, so thank you for that! honestly my first impression of Taesan was that he looks like a tsundere, so that’s pretty much how it all started.
i'm pretty sure you guessed it; happy name day @restlessmaknae <3
read Leehan’s companion piece here
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You had been following your well-planned route to success for years. You had already taken advanced courses at a prestigious hagwon, a private after-school academy for the subjects you totally needed to ace at CSAT. You also offered tutoring services to underclassmen, volunteered at the local library during summer and carefully chose your extracurriculars to align with the ideal student vision SKY universities had. You only needed to follow through the plan in your senior year too and you would be fine. You would finally make it.
Needless to say Han Taesan wasn’t part of your plans.
Yet, there he was standing right in front of the principal’s office where you were heading in all his 6 feet tall glory, his school uniform’s tie neatly done for once.
“What are you doing here?” You blurted out with no greeting when your steps slowly halted next to him, your jaw set and muscles tense.
Taesan turned his head slowly and looked at you impassively from under his dark fringe before speaking up in his raspy voice that made your classmates swoon whenever they heard him make a radio announcement.
“What does it look like?” He raised a brow as if he was telling you not to ask stupid things.
There could only be two kinds of reasons why somebody was called into the principal’s room: either very good or very bad. You had never gotten into trouble, so you were hoping for something positive but seeing the boy there wasn’t really promising. Not because he was a troublemaker or a bad student. He might not have been a straight A student like yourself but he was the leader of the school radio club and he was also generally liked among his peers as far as you knew. Your wariness was more so because you didn’t want to be associated with him in any way.
“Oh, both of you are already here. Wonderful! Come in, come in,” the office door opened and Principal Im rushed you inside with a welcoming smile.
At least, you could be sure by then that the news wasn't anything too bad.
You took a step to follow the man inside at the same time Taesan moved next to you as well which made you momentarily falter. However the boy merely reached out and put a hand onto the door’s edge to keep it from closing. You had to force yourself not to scoff at the fake gentleman-ish action and instead just duck under his arm to go inside the office.
You just sat down in one of the cushy chairs and smoothed out the lines of your school uniform skirt when you heard the door close and soon enough Taesan took the chair next to you.
“Alright, I won’t even waste your precious time since I know both of you are busy. I called the two of you here because as representatives of the senior classes, I would like the two of you to conduct interviews with your classmates and prepare a pre-recorded radio segment that can be broadcasted on graduation day. It can be about anything you want: what the students’ aspirations are or what they liked the best in high school. I trust you will do a great job,” the principal smiled at you hopefully but you could feel your own polite smile freeze onto your face. This was not how you imagined yourself spending the first term of senior year.
“But…”
“Yes, Y/N?” The principal looked at you expectantly and you could feel Taesan’s dark eyes on you as well which snapped you out of your confused stupor.
“Why the two of us?”
“Of course, you can get others to help too if you want but you have exceptional organizing skills as I heard and Taesan already has experience with our recording system and editing softwares. You two were the first ones we could think of, but of course I can’t force you…”
“It would be an honor, Principal Im,” you hurried to stop him there because there was no way you would have said no to a task like this. Not only because you could hardly say no anyways but also because it would look good on your resume. The only thing that bothered you was having to do it with a boy you could not stand. If you had that much time and you could do so, you would have gladly done it alone without his help but no matter how much you hated it, Principal Im was right: he had the skills to perfect a radio segment.
“Great! If you don’t have further questions, then good luck!”
“Okay, what about we meet after school to discuss the plans?” You asked immediately once you left the principal office because you had less than 5 minutes until first period and since you didn’t share a class with Taesan, you rarely ran into each other unplanned (thank god) and you would need your color-coded planner from your bag to plan any further than the afternoon.
“I have a radio club thing until 6,” Taesan simply said, not offering any alternatives, so you let out a sigh. Of course. What did you expect?
“And I have academy classes every other day,” you pointed out because he wasn’t the only one busy. “Then I can just email you your parts and we don’t need to–”
“So you can complain later that I’m freeloading off your hard work? No thanks,” the boy interrupted you and your gaze sharpened at him. He leaned casually against the corridor’s wall, a hand reaching up to loosen his tie and tilted his head at you as if to challenge you to protest. “We can make do during lunch hour.”
You opened your mouth, ready to tell him that you had plans already but going over your History notes, when it was just the first week of the term and you were ahead of the course work anyway, wasn’t that necessary even though you hated giving in to his idea.
“Okay, let’s meet outside at the benches then,” you agreed, telling yourself to be the bigger person, and turned your back on the boy before he could see the frustration bubbling up in you.
You and Han Taesan had the kind of history that you didn’t really like to revisit. That’s why your initial reaction was to roll your eyes whenever you heard his voice on the school radio or to puke your guts out when girls gushed about his ‘tsundere charm’. Their words, not yours.
Actually you would have probably not cared about the guy if it wasn’t for your model student campaign which he had ruined. Last year the school had run an event to choose a student representative by voting and every candidate could have a pre-recorded segment on the radio. You had your own carefully recorded and edited audio file with the best convincing speech you could prepare and emailed them the sharing link on time just to hear yourself sing your go-to karaoke song through the radio on the big day. In panic, you ran to the school radio broadcasting station only to find Taesan sitting there by the control panel with headphones over his ears, calmly letting the audio play well past the two minutes mark, seemingly not finding it weird at all that somebody tried to win the campaign with a karaoke rendition of a love song instead of saying a few words. As it turned out, you managed to share your entire recordings folder with the radio team but the club president, instead of playing the file titled campaign_speech_final.mp3, decided that AUD_20230326_192251.mp3 was the right track for your model student image. That week you not only lost that title to the grade’s pretty boy, but you lost your pride as well and it was all Taesan’s fault. Not that he ever thought to apologize or right his wrongdoings. So no, you weren’t looking forward to working with him at all.
He was late.
You had already dotted down six different questions and a rough program outline with your half-finished, now cold rosé pasta lunch menu  on the side by the time Taesan put his tray down on the outdoor table.
“You are late,” you picked at him right away which earned you a rather confused look.
“It’s still lunch hour,” he pointed out and dug into his own kimchi jjigae like he had all the time in the world. His behavior was seriously dancing on your nerves.
“Whatever. Let’s get into it,” you prompted because you didn’t have time to argue about semantics or his attitude. “We should divide the related tasks this week, finalize the questions and gather people for the interviews, then we can start on those next week.”
“What’s the rush? We have months until graduation,” Taesan questioned and while he was right (or because), you had the sudden urge to strangle him right there. You forced yourself to stay calm.
“Well, I don’t like to leave things to the last minute. Closer to graduation, we will be busy with the exams and college applications anyway.”
“As if you don’t already have everything prepared,” he muttered absentmindedly, scooping more kimchi on his spoon, eating without a care.
You pursed your lips, annoyed. You needed to remind yourself again that you had no time nor the energy to argue with him if you wanted to get this discussion done before your upcoming English class.
“Khm… so we can agree on splitting the interviews between us, right? You interview your classmates and I will do mine. We just need a common question sheet,” you said, tapping the end of your pen on the table.
Whether it was the repetitive sound or your words, it managed to get Taesan’s attention. He looked up from his food and leaned forward on his elbows, his dark eyes sharpening their focus on you.
“How would you record the interviews?” He asked, simply yet you had a feeling it was a tricky question.
“On my phone?” You furrowed your brows. Wasn’t it obvious? How else did he expect you to do it?
“That won’t be good. We would have a huge difference in audio quality. So unless you are fine with that, you need proper equipment. I can borrow a portable mic from the radio club, but I’m not trusting you with that.”
“Excuse me?” Your eyes widened in disbelief but Taesan didn’t elaborate on his reason. Ridiculous. He was just looking for faults in your ideas.
You let out a huff of frustration.
“Are you that desperate that we work together?”
“It’s called professionalism, miss class president,” he taunted you, looking completely serious. “I don’t want to broadcast anything under my name that’s just ‘good enough’.”
“Do you now?” You snorted and rolled your eyes. As if it wasn’t him who played your singing for the entire school. Where was his professionalism then? Who was he to lecture you about it? But okay, you could be the bigger person if he was so freaking stubborn. “Fine. We can do the interviews together with your fancy mic. These are the initial questions I thought of.”
You slid your open notebook towards him with questions about what they used to dream of becoming as a kid, what they want to be now, what colleges and majors they considered as well as their most memorable moment at the school and what they would tell their younger selves or their underclassmen. Taesan furrowed his brows as he was reading through the draft, probably dissecting each of your questions like a poor lab rat but eventually didn’t say anything. You raised a brow at him when your eyes met and he just shrugged.
“Sounds good to me,” he said which didn’t really added value but at least he didn’t find something to pick on in everything you did.
The rest of the discussion went easier as it was obvious that he would be the editor and you would organize the interviews. You were already mentally preparing a survey to send out to the students via the group chats you usually used for class president duties to see when they would be free to conduct the interview among the slots you offered. Taesan wasn’t particularly enthusiastic about the hectic and busy scheduling in the upcoming weeks but eventually agreed to get it over with within two months tops. He must have realized too that the earlier you finished with this project, the sooner the two of you could part ways.
You had the first batch of interviews at the end of next week. After ruling out inconvenient locations, you ended up with the obvious option: doing the recordings in the school radio clubroom. You were against it at first because the last time you had been there you faced public humiliation, whispers behind your back for weeks about your singing and messed up campaign, but objectively speaking you knew it was the most reasonable choice, so you bit the bullet.
You arrived ahead of time, of course, but you were quite surprised that Taesan was already there too, setting up who-knows-what on the professional equipment. He looked up when the door opened, the sun hitting the side of his face, giving it a natural warm glow, a stark contrast to the coldness he often radiated. He acknowledged your presence with a nod then went back to his work, so you just put your stuff down next to the round table in the middle of the room and got ready with your nicely printed questionnaire.
For the most part, the interviews went well, the students showed up more or less on time for their own slot, Taesan let you do the talking, merely letting you know when a recording started or ended. It all started going down when the last interviewee for the day didn’t show up. After five minutes passed, you texted Wonyoung asking politely whether she forgot the interview but she didn’t answer. Ten more minutes of awkward silence while Taesan was playing (or texting, you couldn’t tell) on his phone, you tried calling her but with no success. You started getting restless and frustrated.
“She could have at least told us if she wasn’t going to come,” you muttered more to yourself than anything when your next call went to the voicemail as well. It was such a waste of time just waiting.
“Why do you always assume the worst of people? Maybe something happened and she can’t make it. She could be too sick to care about you blowing up her KakaoTalk,” Taesan looked up from his phone and there was something in his eyes that made you feel like you were in the wrong, like you were a sulky child because generally it wasn't like you were always this pessimistic about people, but before you could have argued, Taesan sighed. “You can go. I can interview her if she shows up until 6.”
Well, you could have taken his word and left. Wonyoung was his classmate and he probably didn’t have anything better to do anyways. There was a set list of questions and not much to mess up. But just as he didn’t want you to handle his beloved mic alone, you didn’t want to leave it to him alone. So you just stubbornly held his gaze, trying to come up with a more profound reason when the clubroom’s door opened and Wonyoung stepped inside in the cheerleading squad’s PE clothes.
“Sorry. Practice got delayed. Thanks for waiting for me,” she panted and Taesan sent you a ‘told you so’ look which made you want to commit atrocities. You hated not being right and even more to be reminded of it.
“It’s okay. Catch your breath,” you turned to the girl with a reassuring smile but you were undeniably relieved when you could finally bid goodbye to her and pack up. It was getting late.
However, when you saw that Taesan was still saving the audio files and uploading them to your shared cloud folder, then putting away the recording device and the mic, you stalled around the door, feeling inconsiderate to leave earlier.
“Just go,” the boy muttered gently when he noticed your hesitation and you didn’t need to be told twice.
On your way to the bus stop, you stopped by at your favorite corner convenience store for some banana milk and almost missed your bus but luckily the driver saw you running and stopped.
“Thank you,” you bowed to the middle aged man who just mumbled something about youngsters these days, then tapped your transportation card against the sensor before looking for a place to sit.
Since it was past the rush hour, there were quite a few empty seats but there was one next to a familiar face close to the door. He had put on a hoodie over his uniform and had his head against the window, eyes closed but you would have easily recognized his long ass limbs everywhere. With the taste of your hurt pride still fresh on your tongue you walked past him, sitting down in the very back, only checking on Taesan a few times to see if he managed to wake up in time to get off at his stop.
Even without the interview project, senior year was busy. You felt like your days were piles of classes, homework, mock tests, real tests, tutoring and studying. Sometimes you memorized English vocabulary or dates for History class even during your lunch breaks or on bus rides because that way you could make the most out of your time. Some might have argued that you took it too seriously but if you wanted to get into the top universities of the country, you had to.
No wonder you spent the two hours you had between classes and tutoring on Friday in the library too, working on your Literature essay. It was kind of boring and you had a long week; you justified your frequent yawns and slow blinking. You didn’t even notice when you slipped into a dreamless sleep, not until you woke up with your head over your folded arms on the table.
As you were still in the haze, instead of panicking that you might have missed your tutoring class, you slowly blinked yourself back into consciousness and the first thing you saw was a pair of eyes.
The boy sitting at the table next to yours was looking at you with something akin to the mix of concern and amusement but you were too busy committing the lovely almond shape and chocolate brown shade of his eyes to your memory to be bothered by it.
Then the realization hit you like a truck because it was no other than Han freaking Taesan.
Oh, did he always have such pretty eyes?
Realizing that you were staring, you quickly turned your gaze away, sat up properly and fixed your messy hair while mentally reprimanding yourself for letting your sleepiness take too much control over you.
You hastily checked the time on your watch, sighing in relief that you only napped for about 15 minutes, so you still had time to finish what you were doing. Which was…? Ah, right, your essay.
You cleared your throat as you focused back on your homework, pretending not to be hyper aware of every chair creaking or pen against paper scribbling sound coming from the table on your left.
The next batch of interviews were scheduled a week later and you did everything in your power to avoid Taesan, hoping that he would forget that embarrassing little encounter you had in the library. Not like he was looking for you either but now that you have become more aware of his presence, you suddenly noticed him everywhere. He wasn’t just the subject of your classmates’ talks and an annoying voice from the radio anymore, he was in the canteen, on your regular bus, on the corridor between classes. Really, you wondered if it was your mind’s self-sabotaging doing or you just managed to ignore him previously. Since you tended to be laser focused on what to do, often walking by people you know without recognizing them, it wouldn’t have surprised you that much.
Still whenever you saw him, he was usually alone if not with juniors from the radio club, so you were a bit taken aback (and you weren’t sure you were hiding it well) when a bunch of his friends from his class were already in the clubroom by the time you got there. The door was left ajar, so you could hear Jungwon’s bubbly laughter and Gyuvin teasing Taesan for ‘working oh so diligently’. They all fell silent when you pushed the door open wider and suddenly their attention was on you. Leehan patted Taesan’s upper back with a grin and muttered something about ‘boss lady is here’ which earned him a glare.
“We will be on our best behavior,” Jungwon saluted with a promise when it turned out they booked the first three slots of the session on purpose, so they could sit through each other’s interviews. While you interviewed people by themselves, since the entire school would hear the edited version anyways, you supposed it couldn’t be a problem if they really did behave. They were friends after all, if they wanted to share them why not?
Them chuckling at some parts of each other’s answers or whisper-shouted hollering about future ambitions was a bit distracting but nothing seriously annoying. You could only hide your laugh with burying your face in your hands when Gyuvin recited a freshmen memory as his most memorable with a prank that ended with the four of them becoming friends. Apparently the day before the first term’s end, right on the edge of the summer holiday, Taesan had brought soap dispenser-shaped water guns into the PE changing rooms, so whenever somebody just tried to wash their hand, they got wet. It shouldn’t have been funny since it was rather childish, but glancing at the always stern and intimidating Taesan and seeing him smile at the memory turned it into something lovely even if it ended with the four of them arguing about whose was the best prank out of all the ones they did over the years.
It was truly one of a kind to see Taesan interact with his friends, people he felt comfortable around. He suddenly became talkative and loud yet warm and gentle when he scolded Gyuvin like an Asian mom for falling asleep at Miss Lee’s class again but promised to send him his notes once he got home.
“What?”
“Nothing,” you shrugged when he caught you red-handed watching him still after he literally pushed his friends out of the door.
Despite witnessing this side of him, if you wanted to be honest, it didn’t quite sit right with you that he was friends with Kim Leehan. The popular boy might not have ever rubbed salt into your wounds by reminding you that he was chosen as the model student representative of the school instead of you who was the grade’s academically best student, the defeat still hurt. You didn’t like to lose in general. So while you knew it was a far-stretched idea, your mind couldn’t stop coming up with scenarios to prove that Taesan sabotaged your campaign speech on purpose to help his friend and it made you irritable and restless during the rest of the interview sessions.
When you were finally alone, it made you blurt out:
“Was it a prank too?”
Taesan froze mid-movement when you spoke up. He was doing the finishing touches, getting ready to leave as it was just the two of you. He slid the headphones, which he used to make sure the recording quality was good, down around his neck.
“What?” He furrowed his brows, visibly confused and you weren’t surprised, he had probably long forgotten how he had humiliated you.
“My model student speech last year,” you said, your nails digging into your palms, bitterness sweeping into your features.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the boy claimed, firm in his standpoint which made you snort.
“Of course, you don’t,” you muttered, then grabbed your bag and walked out of the door before you would say something you would regret.
A part of you thought that Taesan would ignore you the way you ignored him, especially after your callout (or whatever he wanted to call it), so it took you aback when the opposite happened.
As a class president you often had to help the homeroom teacher. It was nothing out of the ordinary when he called you into the teachers’ room and gave you a box of university application help books to hand out in class. It wasn’t really heavy but there was no proper handle on the box, so you had to hold it against your chest and it made it hard to see the stairs in front of your feet as you walked up to the classroom.
Students came and went both ways around you, nobody really paying attention to you struggling not to fall and you let out a little sigh of relief when you reached the first landing of the staircase without tripping. You adjusted your grip on the big brown box and was about to go on when the box crashed into somebody’s chest… or more like, stomach.
“Sorry, I…”
You were about to apologize automatically when you saw Taesan standing in front of you, very clearly on purpose. However, before you could have told him to move out of your way, he did the unthinkable: he easily took the box out of your hands, his knuckles brushing against your open palms as he did so.
“Hey! Give it back!” You reached out for the box again once you snapped out of your stupor but the boy’s hold on it was too strong.
“Stop being so stubborn for once,” he said, his quiet, deep voice washing over you in waves and then you could barely do anything but watch him turn around and walk up the stairs with ease, the box in his hands and his bag thrown over one of his shoulders.
You shuffled after him a bit awkwardly, halfway torn between being grateful because out of all people in the school only him was considerate enough to offer help and being offended and angry because what if he only did so because he pitied you now that he knew that you still held grudges over what happened last year.
That became a smaller worry though as you realized he was heading straight towards your classroom and you didn’t even want to guess the rumors starting if even just one gossipy girl saw him help you. You grew more anxious the closer you got but Taesan’s steps halted right before he got to the door. You almost bumped into his back at the sudden pause.
“Here,” he turned to you with the box that you took gingerly, making sure you didn’t touch this time.
“Thanks,” you mumbled, actually meaning it but you couldn’t tell with Taesan’s low hum and light on his feet disappearance if he believed you or not.
The third week of interviews went without a glitch. You were almost done which also added to your good mood. One less thing to worry about, one less to-do during your already busy weeks.
Taesan stayed behind in the clubroom this time too, hunching over the computer setup with the headphones on like always but for the first time you said bye. Or well your version of it.
“Don’t stay too late,” you told him loud enough, so he could hear you through the headphones but turned on your heels before you could have seen his reaction.
It was a good day, you decided. You got praised by your Literature teacher for your essay on the themes of social class and Confucian values in your recent obligatory read. The interviews went smoothly and the corner CU had a 1+1 promotion for your favorite banana milk. You even caught the bus just in time, getting on the vehicle after two giggling students. It was busier now than usual because lots of students had to stay longer in preparation for the Freshmen Open Day.
Apologies falling from your lips, you made your way through the crowd in the front of the bus and looked for a seat in the back. That’s where you caught sight of Taesan with his bag on the seat next to him and when your eyes met, he pulled his stuff into his lap. You hesitated for a moment but that was pretty much the only place left and it would have been more awkward if you didn’t take it. So you dropped the ignoring act, swung your bag to your front and sat down, drumming with your fingers on your knees. The bus departed from the stop and took a turn, the silence between the two of you becoming louder than the chatter around you.
You unzipped your bag and pulled out the banana milk bottles you just bought and held one out towards Taesan. The boy turned his head towards you, his dark eyes unsure and… was that blush on his cheeks? Your hands touched when he took the bottle from you, sending little tingles over your skin.
“Wanna listen?” He held out one of the earbuds of his wired earphone that he always seemed to have with him. So old-fashioned, so cool.
You felt shy as you looked him in the eye because it was like sharing something intimate. Still, you took the audio device and put it inside your right ear, smiling as the unfamiliar beats of a slower western song played. You pierced through the lid of the banana milk with your straw and hid your smile behind your drink when you saw Taesan do the same.
Maybe you were just warming up to each other after weeks of working together but it gave you the push you needed to ask about what you were listening to and it started a whole monologue about the kind of music Taesan liked and how his father introduced it to him. Honestly, he listened to a lot of bands you heard of but couldn’t really associate songs with and quite a few you hadn’t even heard about. You didn’t mind though, you liked listening to him talk about it, watching him gesture and slur his words when he got excited. It was a lovely side of him.
The bus ride never felt so short.
That one conversation and shared banana milk somehow led to daily song recommendations from the boy. He was always curious about your opinion even if you didn’t like it. Soon enough he could guess pretty accurately if you would like a song or not, so he even created a Spotify playlist just for you that he updated frequently. This turn of events was surely unexpected but not at all bad.
You also got to know that he would have liked to study sound engineering in university and you told him about your own ambitions and why it was so important for you to have near perfect grades and all those achievements. Belatedly you realized that you had never told anybody how much impact it had on you that you were constantly compared to your cousins.
It was a new side of Taesan you got to know, a side he didn’t show to just anybody and you realized it was the same with you. You hated showing weakness in front of others, yet it wasn’t too bad to admit to him that you tended to be judgemental with people because nobody had really been patient with you either before labeling you this or that.
But texting over the phone was one thing, you weren’t sure it would change anything in person. Sure, you had been seen together due to the interview project but that would be over soon. Not to mention you really didn’t want to deal with high school gossip in your last school year. And yet, you couldn’t help but look for Taesan whenever you were in the school canteen or near his clubroom. You caught yourself anticipating the radio announcements just to hear his voice. It was pathetic really, how fast you went from finding it annoying and purposefully ignoring him to waiting to see him.
Your heart did a little somersault when you actually saw him in the library one afternoon and only when you walked closer did you notice that he wasn’t just leaning over his papers but he was sleeping soundly, his pencil still in his hand, his textbook getting wrinkled under his weight. Briefly you wondered whether you should have looked for another place since Taesan must have chosen this corner table far in the back to have some peace but you would have liked to believe that he wouldn’t have minded you joining. After all, he waved to you casually like you were friends when you ran into each other on the corridors earlier that day.
Eventually, you pulled out the chair on the other side of the table and quietly put your study material down. You squinted at the books and printed papers around Taesan recognizing them as advanced Maths exercises on trigonometry. While you were trying to see if it was a sheet you had already done, something else caught your eyes instead. The light reflected on the silver bands around Taesan’s index and ring fingers down to the similar thin, metal bracelet he wore. You had never noticed that he wore accessories but you had never really paid attention to what he was wearing either (except his unmade tie). Or maybe due to the long sleeved uniform you couldn’t even notice it but now that he had his sleeves rolled up and arms outstretched, you couldn’t help but notice how long and elegant fingers he had, unfairly nice for a guy.
Taesan suddenly exhaled sharply which made you act on impulse. You leaned back in your chair and looked down at your randomly opened book just in case he woke up. However, his quiet sleeping noises soon returned to normal, so you deemed it safe to look up. You let out a relieved sigh when you saw his eyes still closed, his eyelashes casting a light shadow over his cheekbones. Dark strands of hair fell softly over his eyes and you weren’t sure what came over you but maybe all those silly romance dramas were right when they thought girls couldn’t stop themselves from brushing a boy’s fringe out of his eyes just once in their life. But just as you reached out, Taesan straightened his back and yawned like a cat, stretching his arms towards the sky. He blinked himself awake slowly but he froze the moment he noticed you right in front of him.
To make the situation less awkward for both of you, you smiled at him as casually as you could (which wasn’t much thanks to your racing heartbeat but still, you tried) and turned to your book, flipping to the correct page you wanted to review. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Taesan fix his clothes and sit up properly before arranging his rumpled papers to continue the Maths exercises. He must have been stuck on a problem though because he kept sighing and going back to the same page in the workbook. After his sixth or so frustrated sound, you couldn’t take it anymore.
“What are you stuck on? Maybe I can help,” you spoke up, closing your own book, so he would see your focus was on him.
“It’s fine,” he dismissed your offer so fast that you could tell he didn’t even think about it. You were sure because that was what you tended to do too: claiming you could handle everything on your own. But still, sometimes wasn’t it nice to receive help? Like how he had helped you with that box?
“Okay, then what about explaining it to me?” You changed your strategy because sometimes even that much could help: offering a listening ear. Maybe he could realize the mistake he was making in the equation while telling you about it.
You didn’t even think about it, you just stood up and walked to Taesan’s side of the table, sitting down next to him, leaning closer to see his scratchy handwriting and the calculations he had been doing. You might have blushed when you realized just how close you were but you refused to show it. You took studying seriously after all. So you looked the boy in the eye with a challenge in yours until he gave in.
Four minutes later he found the trigonometric identity he used incorrectly.
After sharing songs through texts and studying together at the library, the next thing that became a routine for the two of you was visiting the corner convenience store whenever you left the school together. When it first happened, Taesan claimed he needed to buy something too but he was looking around in the snack aisle suspiciously long (you missed your usual bus that day), so the next time you told him that you would catch up to him at the bus stop, he didn’t need to come with you. But more often than not, he went along with you anyways and ended up buying candies or chocolate bars. When you told Taesan about your go-to emotional support banana milk reminding you of your childhood, he told you that he wasn’t really into sweet things, so he bought all these snacks for his younger siblings. One time he bought a pack of four cream milk breads just for the freebie Pokémon toy that came with it because his little sister liked that character. It made you coo internally.
It wasn’t always just the two of you though. One day you were going over the English vocabulary with Jihan from your class in the library when Taesan and Jungwon walked in and took the desk next to you, eventually joining the English quiz. Another time Leehan needed to stay after school too because of his model student representative duties (a photoshoot for the Freshmen Open Day brochures apparently and suddenly you weren’t so sulky that you didn’t get the title) and he decided to tag along when he saw Taesan and you head over to the nearby CU.
“Ah, senior year is really hell. Everyone’s so busy we barely have time to hangout after school anymore,” he justified himself while throwing an arm around Taesan’s shoulder. “Jungwon told me you went to the library to study the other day. Since when do you do that? I thought you said being around so many people is distracting.”
You still heard Leehan’s voice as they disappeared into the snack aisle with the purpose of getting jellies and you walked forward to the refrigerated section, trying not to think too much into it. Maybe senior year changed Taesan’s mind, maybe he found the presence of others motivating now. Or maybe he just wanted to spend more time with you. The thought alone made you shy.
You were on schedule with the interviews and soon only the intro and outro as well as your own parts were missing. You wrote a script for the introduction and ending which Taesan improved with his experience of radio shows at school. You argued about whether your version with the ‘high school memories forever staying with you’ sentiment was too cringy or his ‘it’s only the beginning’ version was too vague but this time there was no harshness in your voice, there were no grudges held, it was only friendly banter as you went back and forth with arguments supporting your own ideas.
Eventually you managed to find a common ground, mentioning both the importance of keeping one’s high school memories as a reminder of their formative years and youth as well as being ready for what was coming. It was not even a question that it would be recorded by Taesan because he really had a nice voice and while you tried to stay professional and pay attention to his pronunciation and the flow of the speech rather than him, you failed miserably. Luckily, Taesan had enough radio experience to know exactly what to do. He introduced the segment with ease and charm, captivating the audience (you, for now) and you had to clear your throat to focus when he finished reading.
“We can start the interview with me,” you said, eager to get on with the tasks before Taesan could call you out on your behavior. He must have known your reason for the sudden change of attitude though because he smiled to himself, quiet but obvious about it, as he held the microphone out for you and hit record.
You knew all the questions by heart but still you waited for the boy to ask before you answered.
“When I was young, I wanted to have my own karaoke room. There was one on the basement floor in the building where I used to live and the owner auntie always gave me homemade honey biscuits. She seemed to be so joyful humming songs happily,” you said at the first question, glancing in Taesan’s direction briefly.
He must have been surprised – you were too –, because it wasn’t the model student-like answer everybody was expecting of you like saying your dream had always been to become a doctor or lawyer. Honestly, you had your own answers prepared and memorized ever since the questions for the student interviews were finalized and approved by your teachers. But looking back at it now, you felt embarrassed because even though it was just an interview, it wasn’t graded or judged, yet you had felt obligated to answer according to what other people would think of you. However, in the recent weeks as you got to know Taesan better, you realized that people would judge others without reason, without knowing them, even you. So you shouldn’t have changed your whole personality just so you would fit into this image they had of you. Even if it was about your parents’ or teachers’ expectation or your classmates calling you the teacher’s pet behind your back. You had been okay with the prejudices since high school was just one step in your foolproof plan to lead a successful life, you had been okay without building deep connections with other students because you had known that you would drift away after graduation anyways but only lately you realized that you could have had fun while also working hard. You could be yourself and let people closer. The world wasn’t going to crumble, it wouldn’t ruin your plans. You could be honest, both with yourself and others, because what was the worst thing that could happen? That they would judge you? They are doing it anyway, so it didn't matter.
“And now? Now I’m applying for business majors. I’ m not sure what exactly I would like to do with my life but I will get there. Who knows, maybe one day I will open a karaoke room, too,” you chuckled even though your ambitions were to build a bigger company, something creative and useful. You still had time to figure out the details.
In the beginning of the term you would have felt vulnerable sharing these about yourself in front of Taesan or the entire school because everybody expected you to know what you want to do with your life but now, it felt okay. You actually felt lighter, relieved. Especially because there was nothing akin to judging in Taesan’s eyes as he smiled at you from the other side of the table.
“Please tell us about your most memorable high school memory,” he recited the last question after you went over all the others.
Previously, you would have said it was being chosen as a class president because it was an honor and a proof of hard work but now, your academic achievements didn’t seem that important. What will you really remember when you will be older and think back on high school?
“Honestly, senior year so far has had some unexpected surprises, it’s hard to choose just one but maybe this one. Now,” you and me, just the two of us in the radio club room, being vulnerable yet not being judged. “I like the person I have been becoming ever since this senior interview project started and I think it's going to be a great memory one day.”
Silence embraced you as you finished talking, a bit nervous but without regrets. Taesan pressed a button and the recording stopped, ready to be saved.
“So karaoke room, huh?” He asked and you kicked his shin under the table for that teasing grin on his face.
“Your turn,” you reminded him as you passed the mic and adjusted the headphones around your ears. By then, over so many interviews you were sure Taesan knew what was coming too but just for the show you asked him about his dream job as a child versus now as well as his higher education plans.
“Becoming a musician was my childhood dream. My entire family loves music, many of us play an instrument, so it felt natural,” Taesan said and even though you didn’t know this, it wasn’t hard to imagine given his love for music and all that knowledge about genres and classics. “After I joined the radio club, I realized that I like it a lot despite the fact that here we don’t usually play music. So it would be cool to be a radio DJ on a music show one day but I’m interested in the technology behind it all, that’s why I will study sound engineering.”
You smiled to yourself because you had already known that latter part and it felt nice knowing you had come so far. After a few more answers, you got to the last question about his most memorable moment and Taesan’s feline eyes turned mischievous.
“Hm, a fierce girl yelling my head off during a live school radio radio–”
“Yah, be serious!” You interrupted him when you realized he was talking about what happened last year but your voice was more amused than scolding.
“I am serious,” Taesan claimed but there was a teasing tilt in his mouth. “It’s pretty memorable.”
“So you’re saying I was the only girl interrupting you during a broadcast? Shocking,” you raised a brow at him, a small part of you feeling triumphant about the fact that in a way you were special even if your first actual meeting didn’t have the best circumstances. Thank god that his microphone wasn’t on when you showed up and straight up started questioning him. “Also, just to clarify I wasn't yelling. I just expressed my bewilderment about why you were playing that audio.”
“That was the only one under your name.”
“What?” You blinked, confused at Taesan’s quick response. He sounded like he meant it but you knew that couldn’t have been true, they got access to your entire recording folder accidentally. So if he didn’t see that, it meant he wasn’t the one checking their emails.
“To make sure things are running smoothly, we always have a script about our broadcasts and all the audio files are organized in linear order in a folder for that day. I just played what was prepared for me,” he explained and gosh, you felt so stupid.
All this time you thought he had been the one who chose the wrong file on purpose maybe to help his friend, maybe to just have a good laugh but it made sense that his juniors were more likely the ones doing such preparatory work.
“But still, you could have stopped it instead of just letting it play,” you muttered, trying to justify your reaction.
“Well, at first I thought it was actually a pretty unique tactic and then…” Taesan scratched his nape and looked away, then shrugged as if he just convinced himself to tell you something that might be embarrassing. “To be honest, I just liked your singing.”
At his words you felt the tip of your ears burn and heat spreading all over your cheeks. You were glad that the lighting in the room hid it well.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” You found yourself asking quietly because thinking back you weren’t exactly nice to him.
Taesan gave you a look. Okay, true, you didn’t really give him a chance to explain before antagonizing him. And then it must have been weird to just bring it up.
“Right. Um, sorry,” you mumbled, embarrassed due to your too quick judgment but the boy just shook his head as if he had never been mad at the injustice in the first place. “About your answer though, you have to cut it out.” 
Obviously with 60 people answering 6 questions, not everything would make it into the final cut, it would be more of a montage of answers, a glimpse of the seniors’ lives and you didn’t want to be reminded of that incident in front of the entire school. Not again.
“Nope,” Taesan protested, popping the ‘p’ sound, teasing just to be difficult.
“I’m deleting it,” you warned him but you seriously miscalculated several things: there was no way you could have reached the computer before him and with him standing in front of the monitor and keyboard you didn’t see anything. You tried to get hold of the mouse at the same time as looking over the boy’s shoulder but he made sure that he was always in the way which somehow turned into a one sided (struggle) wrestle match and honestly at that point you weren’t even trying to achieve anything and both of you just laughed at your poor attempts.
“Am I interrupting something?” Spoke up a newcomer you didn’t even notice. Sullyoon, another radio club member from the year, stood by the door visibly surprised to see you or well the current situation you were in: Taesan leaning against the desk in front of the computer and you pretty much plastered over him, trying to reach something behind his back.
“No!” You objected vehemently and took two steps back, stumbling a bit. Taesan reached out to steady you by the forearm and only after he made sure you wouldn’t fall did he turn to the girl from his club.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, I just forgot my buju here,” Sullyoon got over her surprise too and quickly retrieved the prettily decorated journal from one of the shelves. You watched her go and then buried your face in your hands because of embarrassment.
“Emotional support banana milk?” Taesan prompted after he saved the files and turned the computer off.
You smiled at him and followed him out closely. If you were any better off, you would have teased him about his flushed face but instead you just made him race you to the convenience store, so both of you would have an excuse if anyone asked about your red cheeks.
Now that all interviews were done, only the editing was left from the project and while you could have left it all to Taesan since he did the actual editing, you were there keeping him company all through it. First of all, you listened to all the raw material and decided which answers to include from each interviewee in the final cut and then you could help out when he needed a second opinion on the order or cut parts or whether the transition was smooth or not. When he was deep in the concentration mode, you just did homework or studied for upcoming tests. It took three sessions to finish it (you had to force Taesan to get his ass out of school during the second one because he was determined to finish it which past you would have appreciated but not even this project was worth losing proper meal schedule or sleep over it) and when you listened to the final version you were proud of what you had done, together.
“Should we celebrate?” You suggested once the file was sent to the principal and his secretary. You finished it pretty much on schedule and yet, you weren't as relieved as you thought you would be when you had first started it. But still, it was an achievement and you liked to celebrate small wins like this because if you didn't, who else would?
You meant it as in going out to eat something good. For example, in the tent restaurant two streets down the auntie was selling the best tteokbokki you had ever tried. But Taesan had his own idea.
“What about karaoke?”
“Yah! Stop teasing!” You glared at him but you weren't actually mad, it started to turn into a private joke between the two of you.
“I’m not!” The boy insisted and all it took was his almost pout to convince you.
There were karaoke rooms on pretty much every other street in this neighborhood, so it wasn't hard to find one where you booked a room for an hour and bought snacks and drinks at the counter from the girl who looked like a bored university student.
You usually went to sing with a small group of girls from your class, so it was the first time that it was just you and a boy. And not just any boy but Han Taesan. Somehow it felt more special. Sure, he might have already heard you sing and said that he liked it, but you were shy, so you insisted that he would pick a song first. He chose Dean's 21 and totally nailed it, the karaoke machine's high score proving that you weren't just biased when you told him that. You had already liked his speaking voice but when he sang, oh boy! You could have listened to him for hours.
You went with a girl group song you were confident in and it was fun. Song after song you both hyped each other up and the one hour passed by quickly. A part of you wished you could just pay for one more and sing until your voice became hoarse but the rational part knew that you shouldn't have stayed out too late. You still had homework to do and Taesan needed to memorize those English words for tomorrow's test.
It was the same T side of you that went a bit ahead of you and started thinking about the midterms and then how busy you would get once summer ended and the last term rolled around. It was still months away and yet, you wondered if it took that much for you to drift apart or the end of this interview project would be enough. You were a bit scared to know the answer, just how you were scared to answer Jihan's question the other day when she saw you walk to class together with Taesan. Admitting out loud that you liked him would have made it real and it would have made you vulnerable. You weren't sure you were ready to do that but it was certain that you didn't want to lose him.
“Taesan…” You spoke up quietly, swinging your feet back and forth on the bench in the bus stop after you spent the walk from the karaoke room to the stop in silence, lost in thought. The boy turned his head towards you, his fringe getting into his eyes, messy and beautiful. Your heart ached with the certainty only first love could. “Now that the radio segment is ready, will we go back to how we were?” You asked barely in a whisper as if speaking louder would have had its consequences. That was also why you had to rush to clarify. “Because I don’t want that. I… I would miss you too much.”
You didn’t mean to say it like that and it was a scary thing to admit but it was worth all the extra beats of your heart to see Taesan smile, a shy little thing stretching slowly from one side to another, his eyes sparkling under the moonlight and street lamps’ glow.
“Me too,” he said and you reciprocated his smile. There was a short pause, an inhale of the universe waiting, then Taesan called your name and you looked up immediately.
“Hm?”
He looked you in the eyes with those dark oceans of his. Once you associated them with the cold depth of the sea but since then you realized that you were wrong. You knew only a few people who had warmer souls than this boy.
“You are my most memorable high school memory for a reason,” he whispered like it was a secret and a promise at the same time.
It left you speechless a moment too long and the bubble around you burst when the bus pulled up in front of you with a loud screeching sound. Taesan was quick on his feet but instead of getting on the bus right away, he looked back at you and held a hand out for you. You blamed it on not having time to think about it with the bus driver yelling at you impatiently and took it, following the boy onto the vehicle and to your usual place in the back with a smile on your face and a new rhythm in your heart.
Taesan didn't let go of your hand during the entire ride. As you closed your eyes and listened to the music he put on, you hoped he wouldn’t let go for a long time.
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nervocat · 1 year ago
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I already saw someone writing this but I wanted to try to see your take on it.
What about Neuvillette x Melusine reader? (Of course platonic relatioship) Where Neuvillette meets male Melusine who is visibly taller with, maybe, darker colors than other female Melusines? I just find this idea very interesting (⁠^⁠^⁠) (Get well soon 💙)
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★ 📝 — notes: I wanted to actually do something like this a while ago with a Melusine reader but just never got to it with my other ideas l liked more, and I'm almost 100% sure which other writing you're referring to. I like how you interpret how a male Melusine would look like too, and ty ^^
I also may have gotten a little too carried away with this so that's my bad, I hope it's still good though
       — word count: 534 , fandom: genshin impact , cw: none , translations: salut - hi/goodbye (somewhat informal) — ✦
                     " A Male Melusine and Neuvillette "
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     Neuvillette loved the Melusines, all of Fontaine knew that, and he knew pretty much all of the Melusines by name, so when he came across you, he was slightly confused. You were.. a male Melusine?
     When he saw you, you were communing with another Melusine and you looked visibly taller with darker skin colors than the females. When you were done with your conversation, he walked up to you and you turn around, smiling at him.
      "Hello, Monsieur Neuvillette!" Neuvillette smiles at this, moving his hand to rest on your head, giving you little pats.
     "Hello, and what would your name be?" He asked, moving his hand away.
     "I'm [name]," you reply, turning your body to him. Neuvillette nods.
     "Well then, [name], why don't you tell me about yourself?"
     You happily obliged, smiling while doing so. You and Neuvillette eventually start to walk around Fontaine, you explaining how you seem to be the first and only male Melusine, confirming Neuvillettes guess. After you two met and separated to go your respective ways, you guys meet more after that. You mainly talked with him while out on the streets, but you sometimes helped him with other things like sorting papers or delivering stuff to him, and it seems he took a liking to you.
     He didn't like the other Melusines less, don't get him wrong, but just the fact that you were a male Melusine interested him and it seemed like you two almost had something like a 'father-son' relationship. The other Melusines were quick to notice with all the miniscule details they can see, but weren't mad at all. They just smiled and moved on, no envy present.
     Whenever you greeted him or said goodbye, saying something like "Salut, Monsieur Neuvillette!" He would reciprocate it with little head ruffles or headpats while smiling and saying the hi/goodbye back. He would also give you headpets when you did something for him or whenever he felt like it. You also followed him around when you could, sometimes rambling to him about things while he listened. Onlookers, Melusines and Humans alike, would always have their day brightened at the sight.
     One time he even picked you up and held you while you were sad, and it became a habit whenever you were sad and he'd sit down somewhere with you in his arms. Whenever he was sad, you'd hug his torso while looking up at him with a frown.
     "Neuvillette..?" You murmur, your mitten-shaped hands holding onto said man. He looked over and sighed, the rain outside easing slightly.
     "Yes, [name]?"
     "Are you alright?" You ask as he sets you on his lap, since he was in his chair.
     "I am simply not at my highest right now-" he was cut off by you hugging him and burying your face into his chest. He smiled and hugged you back, resting his face on the top of your head and the rain stopped soon after as Neuvillette forgot his worries for a short while.
     Long story short, you and Neuvillette have a close bond, and with you two being different from the society you're from bringing you closer together. ✧
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🌊 ★ — © nervocat || I appreciate any reblogs made, and pls don't repost or translate my works anywhere, ty — ✦ 📖
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mythicmanuscripts · 9 days ago
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I want to overstimulate aegon !
You and me both anon!! You and me both.
I've definitely written about overstimulating Aegon before because I don't think it's possible to write NSFW Aegon without it. Thinking about how obvious it is that Aegon would love that made me think about how most of the castle would be at least a little aware that you dom Aegon and that without you doing that he turns into a little terror no one can handle.
So that's what you'll find below the cut! I hope that's alright with you anon. If you or anyone else wants a more in-depth response about overstim then feel free to request it again and just made sure to add some form of detail about it so that I'm not just rewriting my overstimulating thoughts again. Enjoy!
Before you came along Aegon was definitely known for being willing to fuck and get fucked by just about anyone. He could have single handedly kept king's Landing's brothels open.
Aegon liked you from the moment he met you. Even though it was an arranged marriage and done for political power, he would still much rather have married you than any of the other possible spouses he could have chosen from. You were the only one who seemed to have a sense of humour, the only one who could joke with him and clearly wasnt afraid of him. He loved that from your very first conversation with him.
Once you're married, you and him both know your duties. You and him are to produce a few heirs, enough that there will definitely be someone to take over the iron throne even with a few deaths and then after that you could both sleep with whoever you wanted and you hardly had to even see each other after that.
You were prepared to do that, but you had promised yourself that you would not take it laying down (literally). You refused to allow it to be 10 minutes of boring fucking where you just wait til he's finished and then he leaves. Absolutely not. You were going to get some enjoyment out of this.
Aegon also expects for it to be like that, until you walk into your new shared chambers and push him up against the wall. And well... he is most certainly not complaining. You expect some resistance from him but nothing even close to that happens. You take control and he just becomes to pliant?
You have absolutely no idea where the man you had heard so many bad things about was. You had heard so much about his selfishness and desire and how rough he would make it, but you see absolutely none of that. From the moment you had him against the wall he was yours to play with.
You swear he was made for this purpose. There's no other explanation for it. He begs so quickly and so easily, wanting so badly to be good for you.
So of course you have your fun, and you very quickly discover how pretty he looks when he cries after his third orgasm. Poor little thing can't even get his legs to stop shaking.
And when you finished and you got into bed to let him cuddle into you? Well now you're it for him. He got completely wrecked AND he also got cuddles? Yeah no one else will ever be accepted again.
The entire castle is in shock for the next few weeks because Aegon doesn't leave for a brothel once? In fact he sent letters to three brothels informing them that he would no longer need his weekly booked room.
Things start to make a little more sense when they start to see you two together more often. Aegon looks at you like you hung the moon and all the stars. He's always holding your hand, always looking for you, always making sure there's space beside him for you.
It's very clear that you have a grounding effect on him, but what people don't know is how much of that effect comes from you absolutely wrecking him at least once a week.
You always know you've got to make time for that soon when he starts to get even whinier than usual (yes, it's actually possible) and he may genuinely cry if you have to go somewhere alone. Even when he is with you he's alls squirmy and unsettled, constantly moving around and snapping at anyone else who tries to get his attention.
You sort that out by getting an evening free of obligations and taking control the moment you're alone with him. Aegon needs to be pushed to his limits, needs to cum so many times he can barely even think never mind string a sentence together.
(You always start by letting him get you off, because you've learnt the hard way that if he realises at the end of a scene that you havent cum he will go straight into subdrop and feel like a failure.)
After that his favourite is when you sit next to him and drape his leg over your thigh to get full access. He whines and cries against your shoulder, mumbling broken pleas and cumming all over your hand every time you tell him to. He always cleans it up though!!! He'll lick your hand hand clean and then if you don't move your arm quick enough he will take your fingers into your mouth and then you're in trouble because if you pull away without giving him something else to suck on then he will just start crying. Poor thing is too fucked out you must help him!!
You spend the entire night and most of the next morning in bed with him after that. When he does emerge he's always in a much, much better mood and actually does all the things he's supposed to do.
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koolades-world · 8 months ago
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Can I request headcannons of MC getting in a fight with Solomon and Simeon (separately) about something pretty big and how MC (or Solomon/Simeon depending on the reason for the fight) makes up for it/apologizes? I just need some good old angst to fluff man.
Thank you and your writing is amazing!
hi! of course :)
the solomon one was def a lot more serious that the simeon one just because i couldn't think of much that mc and him would get into a serious fight about haha (this only thing i could think of was mc confronting him about his choices that led to him becoming humans and that needs it's own piece for sure)
i kinda deviated from the prompt as a wrote, so sorry about that haha. that happens sometimes as i write. the solomon one is much more on prompt
enjoy <3
Mc gets into a fight w/ Simeon and Solomon (separately)
Simeon
you get jealous that he's been spending so much time with the members of the school's art club
that in itself isn't the problem and you're glad he's getting out there more with something he doesn't normally do, it's just that you can tell that two other members in specific are very into him
they inserted themselves into your relationship and specifically tried to upset you, which cause you to blowup at them
"So, what time are you going to be home?" You pinched your D.D.D. between your shoulder and your ear as you got together the ingredients for dinner that night, since it was your turn to cook.
"In about an hour. Art club will take a little longer today. We're finishing our paintings. I hope you'll like it." The melodious voice of your boyfriend, Simeon, was piped into your ear.
"I'm sure it'll be amazing. If you're going to be late for dinner, let me know. I'll set aside a portion for you." You smiled at the nervousness you heard in his voice.
"Alright. I'll talk with you later then. Love you, Mc." Simeon said.
""Love you too. Stay safe." You put the phone down, and went back to preparing dinner. After you were done, you left it on the stove on keep warm and went off to get some homework done. Eventually, dinner time had rolled around, and still nothing from Simeon. You assumed everything was as normal, so you called your other housemates to dinner.
"Thank you Mc." Luke sat down at the table with his plate.
"Let me know what you think! I tried a modified recipe today." Before Solomon could speak up, the front door finally opened. You got up to greet who you presumed was just Simeon, but there were three people in the doorway.
"I'm home. Hope you don't mind I brought a few guests." Simeon stepped aside to fully reveal his two companions. You recognized them as two other members of the art club, an incubus and a succubus. They really liked Simeon, which wasn't wrong, but they liked him too much. They knew he was currently in a relationship, but that didn't seem to stop them.
The rest of what happened was somewhat of a blur. You vaguely remembered getting progressively more upset at the two newcomers, until eventually, you stood up from the dinner table and went upstairs to your room.
"Mc? I know you're in there." Simeon knocked on the locked door. you didn't answer him. "I'm sorry for bringing them home. I didn't know they'd say that to you. You can blame me all you want." Instantly, you felt bad for unconsciously pinning the blame on him. He had such an alluring personality, so it wasn't really his fault that everyone liked him.
"It's not your fault." You opened the door, and pulled him into the hug. "They were trying to get a rise out of me, and I took the bait. It was a result of pent up feelings I should've share before. I'm sorry."
Simeon sighed and patted your back. "No need to apologize. It's normal to be jealous. I could have done better and asked, but the past is in the past, isn't it?" He took a step back and picked something up that was leaning against the wall. "This is for you. I'd wanted to prepare some of your favorite cookies to go along with it, but I thought now might be a good time to give it to you." In his hands was a portrait of you.
"Simeon! This is beautiful. Thank you!" You hugged him again.
"I'm glad you like it." Simeon moved to set it down, but you stopped him.
"Let's hang it up right now. I have the perfect spot." Simeon was glad to have been graced with seeing your beautiful smile once more.
Solomon
the two of you get into a fight about his tendency to hole up in his room for days at a time
he says he's doing important experiments but you just want to spend time with him
when he does leave his room, it's a weird hours and it's at one of these times that you happen to run into him
"Sol." You held up your D.D.D.'s flashlight. In front of you was your boyfriend, looking like he hadn't slept in at least a few days. The situation might had been funny if you weren't so upset with him. He froze in the beam, looking like a deer in headlights.
"Mc, my love, my joy, my sunshine. What are you doing up this late?" He chuckled nervously, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
"I could ask you the same thing." You stared at each other in silence. "Babe, it's been three days since I last saw you." He smiled at you sheepishly.
"I've been doing important work." The response he came up with was lackluster.
"What could be more important than your significant other?" You sighed, lowering the flashlight. Solomon didn't respond. "Our anniversary was yesterday. You promised to take me out to dinner. I waited and waited, and even knocked on your door, but you told me you'd be out soon. You never came out." Tears began to well up in your eyes despite promising yourself you wouldn't cry. As the realization hit him, Solomon began to move towards you to comfort you, but you took a few large steps backward.
"My work really is important, but let me make it up to you. We can go out tomorrow morning for brunch, or whatever you'd like." He kept trying to move towards you, but stopped once he realized you didn't want him to close the distance.
"Maybe. I don't know. My feelings are hurt is all. I got dressed up and even had a present ready. I left it outside your door, not that you noticed." You wiped the tears away with your sleeve.
"I made a real breakthrough in my research, if that helps." Solomon suddenly looked much more awake.
"It doesn't. At all. I only wanted one thing from you, but somehow you've managed to avoid it at every turn. I admire your passions, really, I do. But sometimes, I feel like that's the only thing you care about." You turned around, and ran out of the room, taking the only source of light with you.
"Wait! Mc, come back!" Solomon promptly ran headfirst into the door you'd just slammed shut, leaving him alone in the dark, and upset himself.
The next day, he showed up at the HoL, bouquet of flowers in hand. He hesitated for a moment, but knocked. Unfortunately, Satan greeted him. He looked mostly collected, but that didn't stop him from being nervous.
"Hello." Solomon smiled at him.
"I presume those flowers aren't for me." Satan raised an eyebrow.
"Haha, no. They're for..." Your name died on his tongue when he saw you in the background. Your eyes were rimmed red and you had messy hair, but you looked rested. When the two of you made eye contact, you froze.
"Mc, I'm sorry." He held out the flowers to you over Satan's shoulder. He rolled his eyes and stepped a little out of the way. Far enough to give him room, but close enough to force him back outside if needed. You burst into another round of tears, and before Belphie, who was next to you, could grab you, you ran towards him and hugged him tightly.
"That's all I wanted to hear yesterday." Solomon held you close with his free hand.
"I'm sorry for making you think my research was more important that you, I'm sorry for forgetting our anniversary, and I'm sorry for not communicating better." He extended the flowers to you again once you stepped back.
"Thank you. You remembered my favorites." You took them, and gave them a quick whiff.
"Is it too forthcoming of me to ask if you're still up for brunch?" Solomon chuckled.
"No. I'd love that. Just let me get changed." You handed the flowers back to him temporarily to run back inside to get out of your pajamas. Satan had left at some point, but Asmo had found his way into his place.
"Sol. I love you, but if you ever try that again, I think I'll have to put your heart on a spike in the RAD courtyard." Asmo giggled. That was the second time he'd heard his usually endearing nickname spoken in such a threatening way in the past day.
"Noted." Just the reminder he needed never to piss off his s/o or Asmo ever again.
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grims-sunshine · 1 year ago
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hello! How are you? I see your requests are open? If it's alright, can i request some angst, but with a happy ending because I'm too damn soft🥲 Fem Tav being absolutely devastated when Astarion confessed but also that he was originally manipulating and using her? I never see anyone writing Tav being upset over that, like she's in love with him, but is rightfully angry and upset with him and just sobs while avoiding him for a while? 🥲
Hi hi anon! I'm good, thanks for asking <3 I hope you're alright too!
I love this idea so much aaaaah! I had to start writing pretty much immediately ahaha
Thanks so much for the request, I hope you enjoy it <3
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🤍 Feel Better 🤍
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Pairing: Astarion x Tav
Word count: 1.7k
Tags: angst with a happy ending, some mild anxiety, arguing, Tav says a few not so nice things maybe
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"I care about you."
It's true when you say these words to Astarion. At least you think it's true. At least it was true just five minutes ago.
You're pretty sure it's still true.
You pull Astarion into a hug, and aren't sure if you do it because you want to hug him, or because it feels like the right thing to do.
He hesitates for a moment, but puts his arms around you as well. You're overcome with a wave of happiness that he hugged you back, then sadness that he just admitted to having manipulated you, then anger that you were dumb enough to fall for it.
When he holds your hand, you see a glint of sincerity in his eyes. But you're not sure you can trust your own judgment anymore. Part of you wonders if he actually means it this time.
You know it wouldn't make sense for him to lie again, right after confessing his last lie and admitting that he felt bad for it.
But it didn't make sense for him to lie the first time either.
You've been defending Gale when the others were mad about his secret, and he wasn't sleeping with you. You tried to stand up for Wyll when Mizora showed up, and he hadn't shown even a hint of interest in you. You sided with Karlach and helped her deal with the paladins when you didn't even know her yet.
In short, you've been doing your damnedest to protect the people around you, not because you wanted anything in return, but because you're all in an unfortunate situation, just trying to stay alive, and you believe it'll be better for all of you to help each other. You would've done the same for Astarion, without him ever doing so much as touch you.
Your thoughts cause unease to rise within you, getting worse with every second. Once he lets go of you, you excuse yourself, rushing off to a quiet place, out of view from the others.
You sink to the ground, leaning your head back against the wall as your vision goes blurry. Before you even notice it, tears stream down your face and you suppress a sob.
You feel betrayed. Astarion played with your feelings just to gain a benefit from you, with seemingly no care how it would make you feel. You should've gotten angry at him, told him off for manipulating you, screamed at him for hurting your feelings.
Instead, you gave him a hug and said you care about him.
Underneath the anger and hurt, your feelings for him are still there, maybe stronger than ever. If you could just move past this, maybe the two of you can be happy together after all.
It makes you feel like a child, thinking that you're in some kind of fairy tale romance. But you're not the protagonist of a storybook, and you're starting to have serious doubts that Astarion is the prince who will sweep you off your feet and bring you eternal happiness.
And yet, that small part of you makes you decide to stay with him for now and hope everything will work out for the better. You're not sure if you're naive, stupid, or if Astarion really is worth trying, but you trust your gut feeling, even when your brain is telling you to break things off immediately.
Still, you can't help feeling hurt over everything that happened, so over the next couple of days you pull away from Astarion. It's not your intention, but whenever you're close to him, you start to feel dizzy, sick even. You feel your chest tighten and a knot form in your stomach that gets worse the longer you're around him.
You used to not get enough of being close to you, now it feels like your whole body recoils against his presence.
Astarion doesn't seem to notice that anything has changed -- Or if he does, he doesn't show it. If anything, he's become even more affectionate with you.
He's been seeking out your touch more often, giving you occasional hugs and stealing kisses from you. They make your heart beat faster, but you can't tell anymore if it's because you love him or because it sends your brain into overdrive each time, wondering if he's doing it because he wants to be close to you or because he wants to keep you hooked so you won't turn away from him now.
You hate that you have to question him. You hate that you feel like you can no longer trust him when you blindly would've put your life in his hands just a few days ago.
To make things worse, life has decided to hurl even more struggles at you while you're dealing with your feelings.
The Shadow-Cursed Lands have been getting especially cold at night. You try to stay as close to the fireplace as possible, but it feels like the darkness sucks away any warmth provided by the fire, so you're left shivering and wishing you could lie in a warm bed with several blankets instead.
"Wanna cuddle a little for warmth?" Astarion's voice catches you off guard and you almost flinch when you notice him standing beside you, watching you shiver and grasping your arms.
"Not that I have much body heat to give off, but, you know… I could be there for you in spirit." He continues, giving you a smile that looks almost a little shy.
You're hesitant at first, but something about the way he looks at you plugs at your heartstrings. You can't resist him, not when he looks like he's sending silent prayers to the gods that you'll agree.
"Yeah, sure. At the very least you'll block off a bit of the cold, right?" You say, earning a chuckle from him.
"I'll do my very best to shield you from the cold, darling."
He settles down facing you, wrapping one arm around you to pull you closer to his chest.
You try your best to relax, but your body still tenses around him, even when you try to just swallow down your feelings.
You lie in silence for a while, until Astarion sighs.
"Is everything alright, dear? You've been acting a little off lately. I wasn't sure if I should mention it at all, but to be honest, I am a little worried." His tone is serious, void of the usual playfulness in his voice.
Damn it. He noticed.
"It's nothing, really," you say, hoping that he'll drop it. Instead, he just looks at you, sceptical.
"Are you sure? You can talk to me, you know." He frowns brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "It's just," he hesitates, like he's unsure of what to say, "I feel like you've started avoiding me ever since I opened up about my feelings. So, I've been thinking, maybe I misread the signs and you actually never wanted to move past… Whatever the hells it was we had before," he rambles. Then, a little quieter, he adds, "You know, I've never done this whole relationship thing, and I really don't want to make a fool of myself by pursuing someone who doesn't like me that way." He lets out a nervous chuckle.
Oh hells no.
"Make a fool out of you?" The words break out of you, louder and angrier than intended. "What about me, who made a fool out of herself the whole time thinking you actually liked me?" You should stay composed, calm yourself before you say something you regret, but at that moment, all the complicated feelings you've been having swirl together and explode within you. "You didn't stop once to think about that, did you? But when it's about you having to deal with something unpleasant, suddenly it's a problem. Don't you think that's a little selfish of you?"
By the way Astarion looks at you, you'd think he'd just been slapped. Then he averts his eyes and you feel his hands tightening, gripping the back of your shirt.
"Right," he sighs. "I deserve to be called selfish, I suppose."
Astarion takes a deep breath, his jaw clenching as he thinks about what to say next, before he relaxes it again. "I know what I did to you was wrong. I manipulated you and you didn't deserve that. At all." His voice quivers a little as he continues to speak. "And I know it's no excuse, but this is what I've done for two centuries. Manipulate people to avoid getting hurt. I have no damn idea how to navigate a relationship with someone who isn't trying to make me suffer at every turn, or someone who I know will meet a terrible end because of me."
He looks at you again with a pained expression. "I really do care about you, despite what I've done, you know? I didn't intend to care about you, but you crushed all my intentions just by being your wonderful, amazing self. And if you're willing to give me another chance, I promise to make this right. I promise I won't ever try to deceive you again. I want to be someone worthy of your love and I'll do what I can to be that kind of person."
This time you're absolutely certain that he's sincere. There's not a sliver of doubt in your mind about that.
You don't even realize that you haven't said anything in a while until you notice Astarion grow increasingly nervous, looking at you like he expects you to cuss him out and tell him to leave any second.
You grab his hand and press a kiss to his palm. "I am willing to give you a chance," you say, seeing the instant wave of relief rush over his face. "I know you're new to all of this, and I know you've been through a lot. I should've talked about this sooner instead of just avoiding you. And I shouldn't have yelled earlier either. So I'm sorry as well."
Astarion presses his forehead against yours, pulling you into a close hug. "So things are good between us now, right?"
You nod, leaning in to kiss his cheek before nuzzling into his chest. "Yeah, everything's alright."
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Title inspired by this
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torahoes · 7 months ago
Text
(IDOLiSH7) Minami Natsume - 16PRODUCERS Rabbit Chat
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Please note that I am not a professional translator. If you come across any mistakes, feel free to let me know and I will make the necessary corrections.
Touma Inumaru: Good work, everyone! 😄
Touma Inumaru: Wait, maybe I got here too early? We're all separated today so I'm bored 🤔
Touma Inumaru: The "Ź" in ŹOOĻ stands for "Zealously always singing together!"~
Touma Inumaru: The first "O" in ŹOOĻ stands for "Outstanding and unrivaled!"~
Touma Inumaru: The second "O" in ŹOOĻ
Touma Inumaru: stands for "Oh, I can't think of anything!"~
Minami Natsume: Aren't you giving up too quickly?
Touma Inumaru: Mina!! You were watching? lololol
Minami Natsume: Yes. From the very beginning.
Touma Inumaru: The heck? You should've said something then! I wouldn't have wasted my time with that nonsense! 😂 lolol
Minami Natsume: I was waiting to see when you'd get lonely and call my name, but you started talking about ŹOOĻ instead. It was amusing so I couldn't help but observe you silently.
Touma Inumaru: Well, I'm glad you enjoyed yourself 😂 Are you done with your magazine shoot?
Minami Natsume: Yes, it went smoothly. Good work completing your variety show recording as well, Inumaru-san.
Touma Inumaru: Thanks! I'm on my way to the next location now 🚘 Is Utsugi-san going to join us after his meeting? Hope he'll be able to make it on time
Minami Natsume: I'm sure he'll make it no matter what. I believe he's a man who always keeps his word.
Touma Inumaru: That's true 😄‼️ Where are you now, Mina?
Minami Natsume: I had some free time, so I came to a café. It's wonderful here.
Touma Inumaru: Wonderful?
Minami Natsume: They're playing "ZONE OF OVERLAP" inside the café right now.
Touma Inumaru: Seriously!? That's a pretty hardcore café! 😆 lolol
Minami Natsume: Oh, the customers around me are getting excited, saying they love this song
Minami Natsume: I'm happy.
Touma Inumaru: Really...!? That's awesome. It's fulfilling to know that our songs are a natural part of our fans' daily lives
Touma Inumaru: Let's keep working hard, Mina!
Minami Natsume: Yes, of course.
Shiro Utsugi: Good work today! I'm dying to know what the "Ļ" in ŹOOĻ stands for!
Touma Inumaru: Ah, Utsugi-san, you too! I hadn't thought about that lolol
Touma Inumaru: Umm, the "Ļ" in ŹOOĻ is for "Lovely ŹOOĻ"~ 👍‼️
Shiro Utsugi: That's perfect! I'll make sure we'll be able to sing this at after-parties and such.
Minami Natsume: Good work, Utsugi-san. I'm glad you were able to make it.
Shiro Utsugi: I made it just in time, somehow!
Shiro Utsugi: Incidentally, "Sasagero" was playing on the radio this morning while I was driving. For a moment, I was genuinely startled, thinking Inumaru-san had called me.
Touma Inumaru: No way! Really? I've gotten a bit hesitant about what to say when I call people now LOL
Minami Natsume: Oh, so that’s why you always start so politely with, “Hello, this is Touma speaking.”
Touma Inumaru: I know they can see my name on their screens, but I still feel the need to say it 😅 Wait, it's time, isn't it? My bad!
Shiro Utsugi: Yes! Alright, let's begin then. I'm sorry that we have to conduct it remotely this time. 🙇‍♂️
Shiro Utsugi: Let me explain it once more. We've been asked to show your usual interactions in a friendly, dinner-table-like atmosphere, so we opted to have a conversation in this format using Rabbit Chat.
Shiro Utsugi: Natsume-san, how did you feel when you found out Inumaru-san would be your producer?
Minami Natsume: I was very excited. Composing a song is a lot like writing a love letter, as the lyrics and melody convey how the composer feels about the singer.
Minami Natsume: So I was curious what Inumaru-san would write about me. After all, I'm the one always writing love letters to them.
Touma Inumaru: A love letter! That’s our Mina; you know exactly how to put it! You're right, I do love you! 😊
Minami Natsume: You say it so casually
Touma Inumaru: No, I'm serious! You were on my mind so much, you even showed up in my dream 👍
Minami Natsume: In your dream…?
Touma Inumaru: That's right! We did stuff like attempting to break the record for eating the most fried rice and cycling across Japan together 😂
Minami Natsume: Is that so? You had quite a naughty dream, I see.
Touma Inumaru: Must've been because I watched a show about that before going to bed 😂
Minami Natsume: Well, I suppose it's fine. I’ll gladly accept it.
Touma Inumaru: Seriously, my mind was completely consumed by thoughts of you! I couldn't give anything less than my absolute best to ŹOOĻ's composer, after all. And above all, I really wanted you to like the song.
Minami Natsume: Thank you very much. It’s become one of my favorite songs.
Minami Natsume: Unlike ŹOOĻ's usual songs, the melody really complemented my singing voice. I could tell you put an incredible amount of thought into it.
Touma Inumaru: Really!? That makes me so happy!! Your voice is so sweet and delicate when you sing; I wanted to make sure it shone, so I worked closely with the composer!
Shiro Utsugi: It has such a pleasant rhythm and a trendy feel to it! Please tell us more about the creation process!
Touma Inumaru: Mina may be younger but he's the #2 Sexiest Man Alive so he's got that sex appeal, right? I figured fans would love it if I brought that out more!
Touma Inumaru: But I didn't want it to be too mellow either. I wanted to capture the lightness of Mina's dancing in the song 👍
Touma Inumaru: And, honestly, I just really wanted to hear Mina sing a love song!
Minami Natsume: Why?
Touma Inumaru: Because you're so affectionate, Mina. You're super observant, strong-willed, and dedicated to your work.
Minami Natsume: Are you sure? I'm someone who ran away once, you know.
Touma Inumaru: It’s because you cherish everything so much that you wanted to run away. If it didn’t matter, you would have just quit. But you didn’t give up on music or this job, did you?
Touma Inumaru: Remember the whole thing with Tora and his stunt a while back? You told us you understood how he felt. That was when I realized that you probably always face everything head-on, one thing at a time, just like this.
Shiro Utsugi: Inumaru-san…....
Touma Inumaru: Haha, this is a bit embarrassing!
Shiro Utsugi: Can I hug you?
Touma Inumaru: Huh!?
Minami Natsume: Why would you hug him!?
Shiro Utsugi: I apologize! I got carried away thinking about how great ŹOOĻ is.
Minami Natsume: Well, naturally. It's ŹOOĻ we're talking about.
Minami Natsume: Inumaru-san, thank you for sharing the story behind "FANTASY." I will cherish this song for the rest of my life.
Minami Natsume: There's no need to run away anymore. I won't be tied down by anyone’s feelings. The sounds surrounding me give me confidence. "Guided by the never-ending melody, let's take off and fly."
Touma Inumaru: Oh, those are the lyrics! The music you make always gives me confidence too, Mina.
Touma Inumaru: "There's a sight beyond the starry sky that I want to see someday," so let’s keep singing together — the four of us. ‼️😄
Touma Inumaru:
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Minami Natsume:
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Minami Natsume: Feeling good. Maybe I’ll order two cakes
Touma Inumaru: Sounds nice! All I have with me right now are some gummies. Guess I'll just eat those!
Shiro Utsugi: In that case, I’ll have the candy I got from Isumi-san yesterday!
Minami Natsume: Both of you are adorable. Next time, all five of us should go out to eat together.
Shiro Utsugi: That’s perfect for Lovely ŹOOĻ! 🐾 Please tell us about the outfits and photoshoot too!
Minami Natsume: I was curious about that as well. I was surprised that someone like Inumaru-san who prefers rugged materials would come up with these outfits.
Touma Inumaru: They were awesome, weren't they?
Minami Natsume: Yes, I honestly really loved them.
Touma Inumaru: I'm glad! 😆😆 I agonized over it a lot, you know! Our tastes are probably very different
Touma Inumaru: You're sophisticated, mature, but then suddenly you're cool and tough. You've got so many different sides to you, it's amazing. So I figured anything would suit you.
Touma Inumaru: I went for a nightclub-like vibe, with colors reminiscent of the night sky that I thought would complement your fair skin. I also used lots of soft, flowy materials and elements to accentuate your dance moves! ✨
Minami Natsume: I’m happy. I took a screenshot
Minami Natsume: The silk fabric felt great against my skin. And the delicate yet commanding accessories were also perfect.
Minami Natsume: So that's the reason why only my outfit used the chic colors. You wanted it to complement my skin tone.
Shiro Utsugi: Inumaru-san, you must be incredibly popular with the ladies.
Touma Inumaru: What!? Where'd that come from!?
Minami Natsume:
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Minami Natsume: For better or worse, you’re a very straightforward person. I don’t dislike it.
Touma Inumaru: I can't tell if that’s a compliment or not, but thanks!? lolol
Shiro Utsugi: Was the night pool for the photoshoot chosen because of the nightclub vibe you mentioned?
Touma Inumaru: That's right! Like I mentioned, Mina has this night-time feel to him. It suits him. But I thought a pool with soft lighting would fit him better than an overly flashy club 😆
Minami Natsume: Inumaru-san, you mentioned during the shoot that the four lights reflecting on the water were like ŹOOĻ.
Minami Natsume: Each light may be faint on its own, but when they come together, they shine brightly, illuminating each other and creating a large, warm and enveloping light.
Shiro Utsugi: You’re definitely popular, aren't you?
Touma Inumaru: Not in the slightest lololol
Minami Natsume: My, at the very least, your words did make my heart skip a beat. I'm moved by how romantically you described our relationship.
Touma Inumaru:
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Touma Inumaru: I’m usually not that great with my words but being your producer kinda made me feel like a better man as well, I guess 😂‼️
Minami Natsume: Because I'm a great man?
Touma Inumaru: Exactly! Isn't that obvious 😄👍
Minami Natsume: Thank you very much. I'm sure the fans will love "FANTASY", which is sung by two great men.
Shiro Utsugi: Sounds wonderful! Please keep bringing us incredible music as ŹOOĻ! 🐾 Lastly, do you have any message for your fans?
Touma Inumaru: Mina, the composer of ŹOOĻ and the #2 Sexiest Man Alive, has many sides. I wanted to create a song that highlights his delicate, loving nature and expansive vocal range.
Touma Inumaru: Be sure to give Mina's love song plenty of listens, alright? If you do, I'm sure you’ll fall in love with him even more! 😄
Minami Natsume: I have always been in search for people who would put their soul into my songs and sing them with all their heart. Laughing at and scorning the world, while hoping that someday... I'd find such people.
Minami Natsume: Meeting ŹOOĻ and being able to create the best music was already a blessing for me, but I never imagined that one day they would make music just for me like this.
Minami Natsume: However, this is not something to take for granted. It's all thanks to the support from our seniors and the staff.
Minami Natsume: So, just for tonight, following the lyrics of "FANTASY," I want to try being a bit more honest.
Minami Natsume: I love you all. As long as I live, I will never let go. Let's stay connected forever.
Touma Inumaru: So cool…
Shiro Utsugi: You both are the best! Super handsome!
Minami Natsume: Thank you. Next time we meet, you’ll hug me along with Inumaru-san, won't you, Utsugi-san?
Shiro Utsugi: What!? Is that really okay…!?
Touma Inumaru: Can I join too!? I'll join! I’m totally joining! Let’s get Haru and Tora too! 🤗🤗
Minami Natsume: My, it's starting to sound like we’re forming a huddle.
Touma Inumaru: True LOL but I'm sure it’ll be fun with the four of us!
Minami Natsume: Yes, I think so too.
The End.
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simplyreveries · 1 year ago
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Could you write Riddle & Sebek (seperate) with a reader who fluctuates between being just as loud as Sebek and being nonverbal (like just responding with noises or typing) (me. I'm requesting me lol)
hope this is alright!! lmk if I am wrong about anything concerning this^^
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riddle rosehearts
he was initially a little surprised when he had seen you experience that around him... he only grew worried because he thought you were upset about it something and he wanted to know what was wrong, he thought he had done something! even though that wasn’t the case, it was just at first it did stress him out a little haha.
eventually though when you do explain it him what you experience and deal with, he tries so hard to understand it. as he puts his spare time into reading about it to be able to be aware of it more for you. riddle is pretty much content with however you are loud or silent— as long as you’re okay. you’ll find him he’d even write down on a notebook and show you that you can too if you are able to communicate in that way instead. he’ll make sure to pay extra attention towards your gestures with your hands and movements or expressions. i think he’d be pretty educated on how to do some sign language and such if you want to do that.
after he has a better understanding of what exactly you're dealing with and hearing firsthand from you when you're able to communicate and no longer seems to feel worried that you're upset with him. riddle is very gentle with you still, its endearing- i can assure you that he does not want you to feel bad for it in any way… he’ll gently smile and hold your hand comfortingly.
sebek zigvolt
sebek actually likes that you can match his energy at times, even if you're not exactly like him and talking about his home kingdom, fae’s, or malleus he appreciates someone who can be just like him in that way! he doesn't seem to meet a lot of people who really can and he admires any boldness from others. (even if that causes… trouble with others as he’s pretty headstrong)
he is a bit confused when you do seem to go quiet— it'd probably unintentionally take a moment for him to realize that you did go silent, as he tends to get excited and loud himself. he’ll go about talking for a moment before noticing how quiet you’ve gotten and inquires what's wrong, unsure— if it was something he had said to you?!
once he does seem to get some basis and understanding when you later can explain - he’ll seem to continue talking or saying something to you, not pointing your sudden quietness out. you can noticeably see that he is also taking it down a slight notch with his tone though to not be as overwhelming haha. but it’s something you’ll never feel different or uncomfortable for doing. he actually is very attentive and observant (he’s a knight in training he has to be!) and will try to accommodate speaking for you if you needed. needless to say though, he does seem to get pretty overprotective of it may come to anyone making some sort of comment about it, he takes it quite personally and tends to get himself too stubborn to let it go.
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slut4thebroken · 2 years ago
Text
Exposure Therapy Prologue
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Jonathan Crane × reader
Summary | You find a new therapist who is more than willing to help you overcome your fears.
Warnings | 18+, talks about fear of being raped, talks about fear of being pregnant and giving birth, pretty much just a content warning for their conversation, the real bad stuff is in pt. 1
Words | 700
Notes | You don’t technically have to read this chapter, it just provides some more background for part 1.
Ao3 link | <3
Fic Masterlist
Main Masterlist
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You anxiously sat down on the small couch, picking at your cuticles as you waited. 
“Are you nervous?” He asked, giving you a calming smile. 
“A little. Sorry, I’ve never done this before.” 
“It’s completely normal to be nervous during the first session, especially if you’ve never done anything like this before.” That calmed your nerves a little. “Let’s start simple. Why don’t you tell me why you’re here.” 
“Um… The fears that I have are getting a little out of control and affecting my everyday life, so I was hoping you could help me get over them. At least a little bit.” 
“Knowing you need help and taking the initiative to seek that help is already a really good start.” You gave him a shy smile at the praise, not sure how to respond. “Since this is a consultation, I’d like to know what fears you need help overcoming so I can figure out the best treatment for you. Is that alright?” 
“Yeah, of course. There are two main ones. Um… being- being raped and being pregnant or giving birth.” He scribbled quickly as you spoke and you waited anxiously for him to respond. 
“I want to better understand you. Is it alright if I ask some questions?” He asked, crossing his hands and resting them on the notebook in his lap. 
“Yes.” 
“Is there any past trauma that might’ve caused these fears?” You shook your head. “Let’s just focus on the first one for now. What do you think might be the cause?” 
“I guess just knowing how common it is? I feel like I’m living every single day just waiting to become part of the statistic.” 
“That must be pretty debilitating feeling that way. Is that stopping you from doing a lot of the things your peers do?” You just nodded in response. “And what about the other one? How is that affecting your everyday life?” 
“Um…” You bit your lip as your cheeks grew warm, realizing what you would have to explain to answer his question. “It’s- I don’t…” Looking away from him, you swallowed thickly. 
“There’s no need to be embarrassed. I’m here to help you, but you have to help me understand before I can do that.” You nodded in agreement, trying to force yourself to just say it. 
“I'm on birth control, but I still don’t feel like I can rely on that completely. And when boyfriends or whatever find out, they usually want to- to…”
“Not use a condom?” 
“Yes.” 
“But you don’t feel safe doing that?” You shook your head as you bit your bottom lip. “So it’s affecting your relationships. Is it affecting you individually as well?” 
“Well I mean, I… want to do that with them too.” 
“You have a breeding kink?” You stared at him with wide eyes, floundering for a response. He was unfazed by the inappropriate question though. 
“I wasn’t going to say it like that, but yeah.” 
“Kinks can often be coping mechanisms. Do you have any other that could be related?” 
“…Cnc?”  
“Is it easier to partake in that one because there’s no real risk?” 
“Yeah I guess so.” This time when he started writing, he took a little longer than the past few times. When he finally looked back up, he gave you a small smile. 
“I think I’m going to be able to help you, I already have a few treatments in mind. Thank you for being so open with me, I know it’s not easy talking about something so personal.” You nodded, not sure what to say. “We can start regular therapy but in the meantime I can prescribe you some medication for the anxiety.”
“Oh I don’t- I don’t know if I want to take medication.” He passed the pen over the paper in one stroke, striking something out. 
“The old fashion way then.” He smiled and you chuckled awkwardly, wondering if you messed up by saying that. It didn’t seem like you did? Maybe you should just agree since he thinks it’ll help? He cut off your over thinking before you had the chance to say you changed your mind. “Do you think once a week will be a good start?” 
“That sounds perfect.” 
Part 1
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filmbyjy · 2 years ago
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enhypen reaction to accidentally hitting their s/o's boob? btw i love your writings very much 👍👍❤️
a/n: aww thank you for loving my writings🫶🏻 but anyways! this is gonna be crack and i’m so sorry😵‍💫
WARNINGS: sex is mention but like no smut duh. it’s used in a more crack way.
-
enhypen reacts to: accidentally hitting their s/o’s boobs
| LEE HEESEUNG
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I feel like there is two ways heeseung can react…
one: he is a dork
he is going to be soooo shy
like *smack* and he stays frozen in his seat
“uh hehe.” is all he manages to say
seriously he is so adorable :(
but like obviously he apologises like he hit the tiddies, it’s a pretty sensitive area you know
also blushes profusely bc baby shy shy
two: the shit head
smirks after hitting the boobs
like boy, I swear to god
he might just nonchalantly say, "it's mine to touch anyways."
BOY
EXCUSE YOU??
| PARK JONGSEONG
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definitely going to apologise
gentleman as fuck
*smack*
"oh sorry babe."
you can't even be mad at him :(
"it's alright, jongseong ^_^."
anything for you my king😍
i'm sorry, the jay biased is showing
okay but i do think at times though he hits your boobs accidentally, he may smirk
just a teeny tiny smirk
i'd say jay has a preference for boobs but he ain't picky. he likes ass too. too much?
he does like laying on your chest though. no matter the size of your boobs.
overall, he doesn’t think dirty at all. he just apologises.
| SIM JAEYUN
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overall, jake is a gentleman
like ignore the red flags he exhibits during concerts
he is truly a gentleman
so he is like heeseung a little
for one part, he will 100% apologise bc he feels bad
and besides it hurts
“oh, sorry babe.”
the other part however…
“soft tiddies.”
like? why?
I mean sure since you are his girlfriend, he technically can touch it. only if you are comfortable
but like?? it’s so random how he blurts it out after hitting it on accident
| PARK SUNGHOON
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being the dork he is
i’d say he’d act the same like jake
sure, he is shy
but that persona appears only if you just started dating him
*blushes* “I am so sorry, princess.”
see he is sweet
but oh lord, catch him 1 year later and you bet he doesn’t apologise for shit
“whoops.”
it’s all he says before continuing about his day
that is until he comments on it
“oh right, I hit your boobs. did it hurt? oh, it did? sorry. however, you did say during sex you liked to be roughly manhandled. I thought the pain would be over the top. I’ve done worse. you couldn’t walk the next d-”
bro what has that got to do with hitting your boobs😀
you just rolled your eyes and walked away from him bc boy what the hell
| KIM SUNOO
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he will apologise
i’m sorry if you were expecting something big
but this man is too sweet
he wouldn’t harm a single fly
okay maybe bugs he would harm but he wouldn’t harm you
he loves you so he isn’t just gonna fly pass that he hit your boobs
“OH MY GOD, IM SO SORRY. DOES IT HURT??”
okay maybe too worried
| YANG JUNGWON
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he will blush
he didn’t mean to hit it
like he was talking about his day while being pretty expressive with his gestures
and then…
*smack*
he looks at you with widened eyes, his cheeks turning red and shit
“sorry.”
then he looks away shyly
aww :(( he looked too cute that you just brushed the pain off
“no it’s okay, won. it was barely a hit, I didn’t feel anything.”
which was a lie bc goddamn it was a hard smack
but anything for jungwon🧎🏻‍♀️
| NISHIMURA RIKI
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since ni-ki is a child
he didn’t mean to smack it
he probably just was so into his game that he shoves you and accidentally hit your boobs
you of course groaned in pain
bc goddamn that was a hard shove
“ni-ki! YOU SMACKED MY BOOBS.”
stares at you. trying to think if he actually did
when realises he did it on accident, he blushes.
“sorry. I didn’t realise.”
he apologised which is great
until he does it again and you are definitely tackling him to the ground and play fighting him
“YOU HIT MY TITS AGAIN, NISHIMURA.”
“IT WASN’T ON PURPOSE, BABE. I WAS JUST SHOVING YOU SO YOU COULD LOSE!”
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candlewaxandp0lar0ids · 2 years ago
Text
jealousy, jealousy || I.N. x Reader
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Summary: Watching the guy you have a huge crush on be a pretend couple with one of the prettiest girls you know for a photoshoot isn't the perfect way of spending your morning, that's for sure.
Who knows though, things might start looking up sooner than you'd expect.
Word count: 3.9k
Genres: college AU, fluff with a little angst, idiots to lovers (but only one of them is an idiot and it's not IN)
Warnings & Tags: reader has anxiety, reader is insecure, someone is verbally unpleasant towards the reader, kissing, Tzuyu from Twice is in this
series masterlist
A/N: So this is part one of my lil project for Stray Kids' anniversary! I've got three one-shots written so far, so I'm confident I'll be able to post the maknae line in the next few days, and then take a couple of days to finish the hyung line or post them as I write them, I'll see. I hope you'll like it!
For this one-shot, please do suspend your disbelief for the way the school work is described in this lol, think of it as an artistic rendition or as something out of one of those shojos that go wayyyy overboard.
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The shoot is supposed to start at 10, which means you’re there at 8, and the second you walk through the door you’re already plagued with thoughts that you should have shown up half an hour ago. Even as you’re the only one from your team there, you feel the familiar lump forming in your throat. Your mind goes over everything that needs to be done, everything that can go wrong, everything that is likely to go wrong, and everything you’ll end up taking the blame for.
You force yourself to take a deep breath. You focus on the end of the shoot — supposed to be at noon, but likely to actually be at 2, and it should be around 3 by the time you finish cleaning up —, on how you’ll be able to get back to the quiet of your home afterwards, and on how the atmosphere here isn’t too bad, this early in the morning. You’re not the only one here, you’ve already met the tired eyes of a few of the other students who you suspect didn’t go home last night, but there is something light in the air. You saw the sun rising on the way over and the light is still gently pouring in through the windows.
What a shame this won’t last.
When the others start rolling in, you’ve set up your little corner, just the way you like it. Your lights, your mirrors, your brushes and products, right where they should be so that they’ll fall right under your fingers when you need them. It helps you breathe a little better, but the lump doesn’t go away. It’s alright; you’re used to it by now.
Nari’s the first one to walk in, which isn’t surprising considering she’s the one directing the shoot, and it’s her clothes that the ‘models’ are going to be wearing. That is to say, the students she’s recruited to model for her, just like she recruited you into doing the make-up for her. The two of you aren’t close, not even friends, but you’re good at your job and a bit of a pushover, which makes you the ideal target for that kind of things.
She waves at you with a tense smile, but you know it’s not meant for you, she’s just stressed out. She always is. Unlike you, though, she has a tendency of taking it out on others, and that explains at least half of the tension in your shoulders today.
You need to learn how to say no to people.
Tzuyu, from the dance program, enters next, looking unreal as always. You’ve worked with her a few times before, too. She’s a sweetheart and you know she’ll make your job easier.
The same can’t be said about the next person to make his way through the door, whose apparition you’ve been waiting for since you got here, embarrassingly glancing at the door every few minutes.
Yang Jeongin walks in like he owns the place.
To be fair, he kind of does. Also enrolled in the fashion course, he’s pretty much the go-to when it comes to getting male models. Hwang Hyunjin, from the dance programme, is the second one, mostly because he’s harder to get a hold of — and because, you’ve heard, his girlfriend is pretty scary.
Your breath hitches in your throat as he walks over to your spot. His coat is thrown casually over his shoulder, his walk confident, and stylish glasses that you know he doesn't need rest on the tip of his nose. He died his hair back to black recently, but you can see it’s still damaged from the light pink that was his previous color.
“We meet again,” Tzuyu chimes from her seat, grinning from ear to ear, and Jeongin smiles in response, his expression changing entirely the second he does.
“It’s great to see you, Jeongin,” Nari purrs as she approaches, before she sets her eyes on you. “Are you done with Tzuyu? We really need to get started here.”
You know you shouldn’t let her speak to you like that, you have no reason to, but all you can think about in the moment is to pacify her to ensure that she’ll leave you alone.
“I still need a few minutes with her,” you say, and Nari huffs in annoyance, before her attention is captured by a guy setting up the lights and she power walks over to him.
“Do you want me to tell her something?”
You shoot a surprised look at Jeongin, who’s staring at you with a frown on your face, and you immediately look away. You hope it looks like you’re just focusing back on Tzuyu, and not like your heart jumped up to your throat when you met his eyes.
“It’s fine,” you say, “I know how she gets on shoots. “Just sit down and I’ll be with you in a second.”
He nods slowly, eyes still on you as you busy yourself around Tzuyu, but the tension remains in his jaw, which you don’t miss. It gives you a pang in the chest — shit, you don’t like when people are displeased with you.
It also makes his jaw look really good.
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Tzuyu leaves to go appease Nari as soon as you’re done with her, and you’re relieved when she’s dragged away to go put on her clothes.
That doesn’t last, though, because next thing you know you’re a few inches away from Jeongin’s perfect face, and he’s staring straight at you.
You swallow. Then you grab one of your brushes, and you get to work.
“No late night snacks this time?” you ask, half-teasing because the last time you’d worked with him, his face had been somewhat puffy from it.
A smile breaks on his face, and immediately there are flowers blooming in your chest. He can look so serious and unapproachable one second, but as soon as his lips curl and his eyes crease, he’s a whole other person.
“I didn’t want to make your work harder,” he replies. You feel yourself freezing, and then you turn away to grab another product, praying that you didn’t just stare dumbly at him for too long.
“You got started on your take on the modernized hanbok already?”
He hums in reply.
“I have one sketch. You?”
“I’m counting on the rush of adrenaline I’ll get the week before to finish it,” you admit.
You’re too focused to see the curiosity in his eyes when you say that. You do, however, notice him tilting his head, and you immediately correct him, fingers sliding along his jaw to pull him back in his correct place. As you do, you feel him swallowing, and you’re quick to remove your hand.
If you’d been looking, you’d have noticed his ears turning red.
“You were the first one here, though,” he says after a few seconds of silence.
“Oh, yeah, that’s because I don’t want to let people down. I’m the only one who’ll get in trouble if I procrastinate too long.”
And even then, you won’t, you’ll just spend a horrible week telling yourself you’ll never do that again.
You inevitably will.
God, you’re so tired of living with yourself, sometimes.
“You should tell me if you need a last second model,” Jeongin mumbles. He’s careful not to move his lips, but you’ve perfected the art to understand that language over the years. The comment makes you laugh.
“You're always completely booked for shoots on the last week,” you grin. You yourself still give a few hours of your time here and there, though you don’t stick around very long. You know that Nari plans her shoots ahead partly for that reason. It’s kind of flattering, if you think about it.
Someone with her drive and her talent gets to have a shitty personality, you suppose.
“I’ll get Hyunjin to replace me.”
There goes your heart again. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that the only time you spend with him goes like that, because you’re too cowardly to approach him during class, and it’s not fair that invariably—
“Are you done soon?” Nari shouts from behind the screen she’s put up to make a corner into a changing room.
“Just a few minutes more!” you reply before focusing back on Jeongin. “I’ll think about it,” you tell him, though you know yourself well enough to be able to tell that you’re extremely unlikely to go through with it. Just the drafting of the text would take you hours, and actually sending it? The idea is laughable.
You really wish you were normal with that stuff.
“Don’t move, I’m almost done,” you say, and he goes still, and your heart’s hammering in your chest, but at least he’s no longer saying things you’re at risk of misconstruing.
As he closes his eyes to let you put on the finishing touches, though, you know you’re in for a long day.
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“Jeongin, can you put your hand a little lower? Tzuyu, smile with your eyes please? Now tilt your head more to the right? More? Jeongin, look at the camera but like, from the side, from— Okay, two seconds for touch ups, and then we’ll need to get things done a little faster everyone, alright?”
Nari’s forcing herself to smile so much that you think she might cramp. You rush past her to get to Tzuyu and Jeongin, carefully touching up their make up where you need and adjusting a little for the light. You also pat Jeongin’s forehead to catch beads of sweat that formed under the artificial light, and he gives you a grateful nod as you do your best not to think about things you shouldn’t be thinking about.
“We’ll be done soon,” Tzuyu says cheerfully, but even she seems to be forcing her smile at this point. You don’t blame her for it. You do, however, think she’s not being very realistic about how much work they have left.
It’s 11.30 and they’re nowhere near done. The start of the shoot ran late because of Nari’s adjustments to the clothing. After that, there was a heated conversation between her and the photograph over the subject of filters, leading to the guy throwing his hands in the air and quitting on the spot, meaning she’s the only one there. You can tell she’s fuming, and though you have sympathy for that, you’re also pretty terrified of becoming the subject of her ire.
“You’re not messing him up, right?” she asks, glaring at you, and you jump away from Jeongin.
“Sorry,” you say automatically, even though you haven’t done anything wrong. “I’m all done.”
She looks at him critically, trying to find flaws in your work.
“He has a spot on the chin,” she says finally, “seriously, if you don’t get your shit together we’ll never—”
“You don’t speak to her like that,” Jeongin interrupts her, and his voice sounds sharp and cutting.
The air freezes in the room. You risk a glance in his direction. He’s staring straight at Nari, lips curved ever so slightly downwards in distaste.
He also does have a little spot on the chin.
Shit.
Nari’s staring at him, too. She’s paled, and her lower lip is shaking.
“Sorry,” she finally says, voice trembling. “Sorry, I’m j-just— We don’t have that long and— Sorry.”
She looks small and vulnerable, and your heart melts on the spot. You can’t help it.
“It’s okay,” you say, “just give me a second to fix it.”
Jeongin exhales slowly next to you, but you suspect it’s in annoyance, not in relief. Still, he leans towards you to give you better access to his face.
“You don’t have to placate her,” he mumbles, lips barely moving.
“I know,” you reply. “It’s just easier that way.”
He frowns, but doesn’t add anything. For a second, you almost tell him that you wish you could stand up for yourself, that the truth is your ‘freeze’ response strikes you every single time and you can’t figure out what to say, that if you could, you’d—
“All good?” Nari asks.
You give her a nod and, this time, she doesn’t say anything about Jeongin — or about Tzuyu, for that matter. So you walk back to your spot, and you watch as the shoot continues.
You don’t really like watching these. That’s generally true. You have friends who do, who think that ‘this is where the magic happens’, but you know all the magician’s tricks, and that leaves no actual magic for you. Still, you’re needed here. You suppose you could have quit on the spot after Nari’s outburst, but it’s— you can’t actually do that. So you’ll stick it out until the end, even if you’re not enjoying yourself.
And that is particularly true as Nari directs Jeongin to pull Tzuyu closer to him. As he does, neither of them questioning it because they’re used to it by now, you find yourself sucking in a discreet breath between your teeth. Jeongin’s hand seems large over Tzuyu’s shoulder, long, pale fingers gently brushing against the skin and for a second, you think about the electric feeling that would run through you if he ever—
Just thinking about it makes heat shoot through your entire body, and you swallow. At least no one’s looking at you.
Another direction from Nari, and Tzuyu puts her hand over Jeongin’s chest, shooting a bold grin at the camera.
You bite the inside of your cheek.
Direction. They step away from each other, but Jeongin reaches out for her, and she delicately places her fingers into his open end, both of them longingly staring at their hands.
Your fingers dig into your arms.
Direction. Keeping Tzuyu’s hand in his, Jeongin brings it to his lips and they gaze into each other’s eyes. They look perfect together. They’re both stunning, and you know there’ve been whispers about them on campus already, in no small part because they’re often reunited for these shoots.
But God does it burn in your chest to look at them right now.
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“We’re done!” Nari shouts at 1.50 pm. Behind her, the group that’s supposed to get the room at 2 is huffing and puffing, but you don’t think a fucking panzer could have gotten her to clear the space until she was happy with her work.
You should be relieved. You’re not. You won’t be until you’ve locked the door to your room behind you.
“Wanna get a drink to celebrate?” Tzuyu asks Jeongin. Her smile’s back to its usual brightness, now that the tension’s mostly gone.
You start picking up your stuff, but, embarrassingly, you’re very much focused on hearing his answer to that. You wish you wouldn’t be doing that, because that’s not any of your business, yet you can’t seem to help yourself right now.
You probably would have caught it if Nari didn’t stop by your side just then.
“Hey,” she says, “I am really sorry about earlier. I shouldn’t have said that.”
The thing is, you’re pretty sure she meant it then, but now there’s a lightness to her voice that you find… annoying. It seems to you that she’s already moved on and expects you to do the same. Normally you would, but after having spent the last two hours watching the guy you have this stupid, hopeless crush on all over one of the prettiest girls you’ve ever seen, something in you just— snaps.
“I think you’ll have to find someone else next time,” you tell her with a polite smile. Her face falls, and you immediately feel guilty. You shouldn’t. Probably. Should you? Are you being mean? Are you doing something wrong? Does that make you a bad person?
“I— Okay,” she says, and this time her voice’s much softer. She looks down at her feet. “I get it. I know I’m not easy to— Yeah. I’m sorry.”
You thought standing up to her would feel good, that you’d feel Schadenfreude over this moment. This is the furthest thing from that. Actually, you only manage to bite back your own ‘I’m sorry’ at the last second.
“I just— this environment stresses me out,” you still say, speaking too fast. “It’s not really good or fun for me and—”
“Sure. Don’t worry about it.” A deep breath, and then Nari nods at you politely. “Well, I’ll get to cleaning up my stuff.”
And just as you’re replying “Same,” she’s spun around on her heels and started putting the clothes away.
You don’t know where that leaves the two of you, but that reaction makes the moment just a little easier on you.
You wonder, vaguely, if she did that on purpose. You don't linger on the thought though, and you go back to your own program, walking towards your little make-up station to start putting stuff away, getting everything back to its place in your bags. It’s something you slow at, just like you’re slow at setting them up, but it also helps you getting back to your normal self. With every object coming back to where they belong, you can breathe a little easier.
You still notice almost immediately the presence behind you, and you’re not particularly surprised to find Jeongin there. You give him a smile, and gesture at the chair.
“If you give me a second, I can get some of that off your face,” you say as you gesture to him. Camera make-up would look quite strange outside, and he’s been to enough of these things to know that at least as well as you do.
“I heard you told Nari off.”
“Oh. Yeah. I guess you, uh, were right.”
That’s not all that happened there, but that will have to do.
When you glance at him, though, he doesn’t look happy about it, a frown barring his expression, and your fragile confidence immediately falters.
“Do you think that was a bad idea…?”
His eyes widen and he's quick to shake his head.
“No, not at all, you did good!” You can’t help but smile at the words. He’s younger than you, but somehow keeps behaving like he’s not. “I just like working with you.” He gives you a sheepish smile, lips pressed together.
“Sit down,” you say like your heart didn't skip a beat, “the least I can do is not let you go out like that.”
So he does, and even though you still have stuff out that you should be taking care of, you lean close to him and get to work once more.
There’ll be other shoots, of course, Nari isn’t the only one who requires your services. In fact, you’re surprised that he’d have thought of that at all. You know that it didn’t cross your mind, probably because you think these moments mostly as fueling your delusions.
The idea that Jeongin could actually enjoy spending time with you hadn’t even occurred to you.
Huh. That might say a thing or two about your self-confidence.
“So, you’re going out with Tzuyu after this?” you ask before your thoughts start running wild.
His eyes open.
“We’re going to get drinks, yeah,” he says, a cautious edge to his voice. “You should come with us, actually.”
“Oh,” you laugh, “I don’t know if she’d be very happy if I did that. Wouldn’t want to third wheel, you know.”
You hope you do a good job of keeping any bitterness out of your voice. You certainly try your best to appear nonchalant, like you’re merely doing small talk while you’re removing his make-up, even if you avoid meeting his eyes, knowing that it would
That might be why it takes you by surprise when Jeongin’s fingers wrap around your wrist, interrupting you. When you look at him, you find him staring at you with a surprisingly serious expression.
“You wouldn’t third wheel,” he says, which you certainly don’t think warrants all of that.
“It’s fine,” you reply, attempting to joke about it even as the breath is knocked out of your lungs, because you will not be caught dead misreading the situation for something it’s not, “if anything getting a date with Tzuyu is—”
Then, several things happen at once. The hand around your wrist pulls you forward and you stumble, just as his other hand shoots up to cup your face.
And then he’s kissing you.
His mouth is warm, his lips soft, his fingers carding through your hair, and suddenly you’ve lost your balance and you’re half sitting in his lap and any attempt at forming a coherent thought is swallowed by what is happening.
A very, very distant part of your brain is thankful for Nari’s screen, which has been moved to the make-up station to make place for the group that comes after you, but that is only a fleeting thought, because still, Jeongin’s kissing you. His hands are gentle, holding you like you’re a porcelain doll, but his lips are fierce, and you feel, briefly, his teeth grazing against your lower lip. His right hand travels from your wrist to your waist, and you’re pulled even closer to him, and now you’re pressed against his chest and all you can think about is how you want more of this.
When he moves away from you, you’re panting, breath short, and you can only stare at him with wide eyes.
“You wouldn’t be the one third-wheeling,” he says.
“What,” you say in response, ever the eloquent one.
He sighs, runs a hand through his hair while the other one remains on your hips, not quite squeezing, but not letting go of you either.
“I— thought I’d made it pretty obvious I was interested in you,” he mumbles.
Oh. Uh, yeah, about that…
“I, uh, I assumed it was just wishful thinking,” you admit under your breath. “I mean, we don’t really, uh, talk outside of these shoots.”
He sighs and puts his forehead against yours. Your noses brush, and you’re acutely aware of the fact that you would just have to move a little to kiss him again.
“I— always looked forward to seeing you,” he admits quietly, almost shyly, something you’d never thought you would see, “but you always looked like you wanted to run away when I came up to you in class, so I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
“You don’t make me uncomfortable, just— just shy, I think.”
It makes him grin, and you realize that seeing that specific look on his face makes you want to kiss him even more. If you were bolder, you would, especially right now, but you don’t think you can dare to just yet.
It’s fine, though, because he’s the one who kisses you, briefly, tenderly, and then he looks at you like you’re one of the world’s seven wonders.
“Want to go make Tzuyu feel like a third wheel?” he asks, rising an eyebrow.
You laugh, and you can’t know it, but his chest swells with pride when you do.
“And then I can take you on a proper date,” he offers. “If you’d like.”
‘If you’d like,’ he says, and you suspect that he knows exactly how much you’d like that, but you humor him because how could you not.
“I’d love that.”
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this was my first time writing for IN and this made me realize that he's probably the member whose personality I'm least sure how to write, so I hope you enjoyed it still and I'll see you tomorrow for Seungmin's part! Any feedback, comment, reblogs or asks are extremely welcome, I may not be able to get to it right away because I'm working on the rest but I they're much appreciated ❤️
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lovelykil · 1 year ago
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headcanons─
: ➛killua
hc; s/o who is in a band
note; was requested (^_^) also lord have mercy I was listening to type o negative while writing this and him playing the guitar⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️ I'm going to start foaming at the mouth
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“you're in a band? That's kinda cool.”
you're in a band? Why didn't you tell him sooner?
doubts your words at first when you tell him but when he realizes you're serious he's like 🧍 "wait deadass?"
when he sees you play for the first time it's like he's fallen for you again, he's so astonished.
tbh I see killua in a band as well when he's like 16 or smth.. maybe an au idea 🤭
I knowww that boy goes home later that day to brag that you're in a band to gon.
all like
"hell yeah my girlfriend is in a band, isn't that so cool?" He leans against the kitchen counter, smiling proudly. Gon nods, sipping on his drink whilst kurapika who happened to be in the same room, grumbles as he folds his arms.
"killua you've said this about 7 times within the spam of 2 minutes, we get it."
"yeah but like she's in a band, isn't that so co–"
"killua."
"alright finee." kil leans himself off the surface, starting to walk away but he made one last comment with a smirk.
"she's in a band you know? Like my.. girlfriendd—"
"alright that's it." kurapika starts to motion turns the silverette, his eyes taking a shade of red.
everyone is tired of hearing him brag about it.. gon is supportive but even that ravenette is finding it kinda old 😔
If you play at any concert or maybe just at home best know that mf is gonna be there, loves watching you play.
doesn't admit it though.. of course.
but you always catch a glimpse of his love-sick gaze when you look up at him, he is not slick 🧏🏾‍♀️
most times when you finish the song or practice he tells you shit like
"It wasn't as bad as I thought."
"you were kinda late on the beat."
"you don't suck but aren't the best either."
"wow, you are such a supportive boyfriend.
"I know right"
"fuck you"
he's an asshole 😒
but he does really enjoy watching you play, you look so cool and thinks your band members are pretty cool aswell.
Imagine this if you will.. 🤗
kil plays the guitar or at least knows (mobage cards) and he's just giving you some tips on how to play (if you play the guitar) you're a little suspicious of the silverette but you agree anyway.
I mean it's good to know tips right?
"and then guide your fingers like this to make it sound like... this." with his hand on top of yours he helps you guide your digits against your instrument. You're on his lap, leaning against his chest, while he tells you this information right to the side of you.
you shift on him, holding the guitar in a better position in your hold as you scoff, snickering in the moment as well.
"I know how to play the guitar killua."
"yeah but you could be better." He messes with the tuning. You roll your eyes playfully and leap off his lap with your guitar.
"alright asshole, how about you play? Show me what you got pretty boy." You hand over the instrument with a teasing smirk. You could see a faint blush cover his pale face but he gladly accepted the instrument and held it in his grasp.
you stand with your arms folded, waiting for him to 'amaze' you. You've actually never seen him play even though he claims to. You wanted to see if he wasn't bluffing.
he thinks for a moment then looks up at you, his determined sapphire eyes stare back into yours.
"you sure? Don't wanna make feel stupid or something." He teases.
"just play the damn thing." With your approval he shrugs and begins to play.
he played a familiar song of arctic monkeys; do I wanna know?
he played for a good minute but it felt like years.. he played so effortlessly.. so damn well. How?? The hell??
he played that electric guitar so well you wanted to ask for his hand in marriage right in this garage.
once he was done he shook his wrist, trying to shake off the pain from playing with his fingers. You stood infront of him with your mouth open, you weren't jealous of his skill, no..
very much the opposite.
"crap now my fingers hu—"
"I think I want to marry you."
"HUHH?!"
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bella-rose29 · 1 year ago
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Idiot ~ Anthony Lockwood x f!reader
Requested by anon:
Hii I want to request Anthony Lockwood×fem!reader, with childhood bestfriends to rivals to lovers with the miscommunication trope, but also a happy ending with both of them being together. So the plot could be like, they were childhood best friends but then when Anthony's family died he later wanted to start the business, but she thought that he was out of his mind because she was scared about him being in danger, but he thought she just didn't think he can handle it so they got into an argument and she left. After that, they started hating each, later she joined Fittes as an agent, so he was even more angry. So they became rivals in the ghost hunting business. Then they got put on a mission later, and idk she gets injured and his like "who did this to you," but they're still enemies, even though the whole time there is sexual tension between them. This request is super chaotic, so just make your own plot with these elements, I guess. I'm not good at describing plots, I will be happy with whatever you write, but please let them have a happy ending and be together. Also, could you try to make this as long as you can because there aren't as many Lockwood fics as there should be.
I might have changed some bits a lil bit and probably spent way too long talking about their childhood, but hopefully this lives up to your expectations anon! (Please let me know if it doesn't though)
Word count: 9.5k exactly (holy shit this is insane i had way too much fun with this)
Warnings: swearing, violence, fighting, descriptions of injury, mentions and descriptions of Lockwood's family dying/being dead, major spoilers for the books (and the show), some stuff probably doesn't make sense (like at all), i might also have misremembered and made up some things but we'll go with it, Lockwood is actually kind of a dick for some of this oops, he gets better i promise, hospitals, mentions of being on morphine (for the pain), references to Lockwood being depressed, they're idiots in love.
Tag list: @anathemaloren, @augustisintheair, @avdiobliss, @dangelnleif, @el-de-phi, @karensirkobabes, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @ran23sblog, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @wandamaximoffbae, @wordsarelife
As always, let me know here if you'd like to be added or removed from the tag list!
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It was nearly 3am and Y/n L/n had had enough.
She was exhausted, weary, worn out, and pretty much any other synonym for the word 'tired', and she just wanted to go to bed, but Anthony Lockwood had other ideas.
"Give it here, come on!"
Y/n groaned, then half-heartedly chucked the bits of paper at her best friend from where she was lying on the floor of his living room. Jessica laughed, despite also losing to the 5 year old boy at Monopoly, and shook her head at his greedy smile as he counted the money. How he had ever managed to get the two of them to agree to play with him, Y/n didn't know, especially since she'd not really been paying attention when the rules were explained. But then she saw how happy he was at the idea of playing with the two girls, and Y/n knew she could never make her best friend sad.
She did really want to go to bed though.
Jessica Lockwood appeared to notice Y/n's droopy eyes, and quietly spoke to her brother, stifling a laugh at his pout when she told him they should probably stop.
"But we aren't done yet!"
"I know, Anthony, but you've definitely got the most money, I'm sure of it. You're going to win no matter what, so I think we should let Y/n/n go to sleep, yeah?"
"Oh..." he'd noticed his friend's demeanour now, and felt immediately bad for making her stay awake. "Alright then. Y/n/n?"
"Mmm?"
"You ready to go to bed? 'Cause Jess says I won, so I reckon we can go up now."
"Mkay," she murmured, too sleepy to answer in proper words. Going up to bed was a haze, and she only really woke up when she stubbed her toe at the bottom of the stairs (Anthony hadn't told her that was there, despite saying he'd guide her). She was sure she brushed her teeth, Jessica would have checked, and they were all already in their pyjamas, but the only other thing she remembered before dropping off completely was seeing Anthony's face on the pillow next to her, already snoring lightly.
~~~
Y/n couldn't remember most of Anthony's sixth birthday now, what with all the memories that came in between, but she did remember his joy at receiving her present.
He'd spent the majority of the morning since Y/n and her family went next door gloating about how he was finally six, and now he was old enough to do so much more than Y/n (who was still five). She'd rolled her eyes, laughing when he did victory dances all around the house, and laughing even harder when he fell over while doing one of the previously mentioned dances.
They'd run away and hidden in his room in the attic after collecting plates of cake, and Y/n made sure to pick up her carefully wrapped present on the way up. He'd noticed immediately that she was carrying it, of course, he was far too observant to miss it, and had demanded that she let him open it right then and there. Initially she'd refused, feeling shy and worried that he wouldn't like it, but he'd given her one of his secret smiles, one of the ones reserved specifically for her, and said "Please?" so sweetly she caved.
He placed the cake to the side, then spent a good minute unwrapping the gift, being oh so gentle with the paper in fear of breaking it. When he saw the item inside, his smile burst out, bright and blinding, and Y/n felt her own smile form on her face, pleased at his reaction.
"Do you like it?" Nerves were still coursing through her, but they left her body when he raised his head and met her eyes.
"I love it, Y/n/n," he whispered, lifting the picture frame all the way out of the wrapping. She'd convinced her parents to print the photo off, and then spent hours making a frame that would fit it perfectly, complete with lolly sticks and stickers, trying to make the best gift for the best friend she'd ever had.
The photo was the two of them the previous Christmas, bundled up in ridiculous festive jumpers and sat in front of the Lockwood family tree in the hallway, presents surrounding them. Their parents had insisted on a photo before they ruined the area with rubbish everywhere, and the two of them could barely contain their excitement. There was a slight blur to them, a testament to their energy, but their smiles were so wide and they were hugging so tightly Y/n knew it was the perfect photo to give him.
"Where did you even get this? I thought your mum hid the camera?"
Y/n giggled at his comically wide eyes. "I just asked her, silly. I did have to do some chores but I didn't mind, it was worth it."
She barely had time to move her plate of cake out of the way (she hadn't eaten any in the last few minutes, far too focused on Anthony's reaction) when he surged forward, bringing his arms around her in a crushing hug.
"Thank you," he said, although it was muffled since his head was pressed into her shoulder.
"Anything for you, Ant, anytime."
They stayed there for a while, just hugging on his bed and revelling in each others' presence, both knowing that Y/n had meant her words.
~~~
When Anthony had to fight his parents' ghosts, Y/n had cried.
He was crying too, since he'd seen them die less than a day ago and now he had to keep them dead, but seeing her best friend in so much pain had made Y/n cry harder.
Anthony was trying to push back the tears so that he could see, so that he could fight, and Y/n hated that he was doing this on his own.
She had been kept in her room by her parents, the adults being too scared for their daughter's safety to let her go and help Anthony, and she was watching him through her bedroom window. Despite the tears streaming down her face and the sobs racking her body, she could tell he was crying (or trying not to) because of the way he was hunched into himself, as if by making himself smaller he could make everything stop. His body was shaking too, heaving with silent cries as he fought off the two ghosts in front of him. Why they were in his back garden, Y/n wasn't sure, since they'd died on the road in an explosion a few minutes drive away, but she was only six, and didn't understand much anyway.
She wasn't sure how long she sat there, perched on the window seat with her gaze fixed on the boy next door, but she knew that it was far past her bedtime when he finally stopped them, and she woke up with her face stuck to the window, tear stains on her cheeks.
Realising it was light again, Y/n hurried to get dressed, tearing down the stairs and into the house next to them, knocking rapidly on the front door. It swung open a few moments later, revealing Jessica, who smiled sadly at the small girl in front of her and waved Y/n in.
"He's in his room," she said quietly, voice raw from crying.
Y/n nearly tripped countless times climbing the many stairs, and by the time she'd made it to the attic she was out of breath. Pushing his door open, and going up the last few steps (seriously, why were there so many steps?) she froze at the top when she saw him curled up under his bedsheets, shaking with near-silent cries.
"Anthony?"
She heard him sniff, the sound gross and snotty, and then he turned his body around to face her, and Y/n felt her heart break in her chest.
He clearly hadn't slept all night, eyes red from crying and lack of sleep, and he was struggling to keep back the fresh tears that threatened to break through.
"Oh, Ant."
Y/n rushed to the bed, climbing to sit next to him and pulling his head into her lap, brushing her fingers through his hair.
They sat like that for hours, long after Jessica brought up some toast for the two of them, and even when Y/n's back hurt from the headboard and her legs were numb from having his weight on them, she didn't stop stroking his hair, soothing him silently.
When he finally sat up, wiping his eyes and blowing his nose (Y/n made a mental note to put her clothes in the wash as soon as she got back home), she pulled him back in for a hug, both of them sat up this time.
"Thank you, Y/n/n."
She remembered the last time they'd done this, hugged on his bed while he thanked her, but this time it wasn't happy.
"Anything, Ant. Anytime."
~~~
"Ant, don't be stupid!" Y/n giggled, watching him climb the tree.
"I'm gonna get you an apple," he shouted, smiling down at her. "You're gonna love it, I promise!"
He'd just been reaching out for one, bright red and shining, when they'd heard a crash from inside his house, followed by a scream. They'd frozen where they stood, Y/n on the ground and Anthony in the tree, and then suddenly they snapped into action, scrambling to get inside and find Jessica.
They tore up the stairs (somehow Anthony had caught up to her, despite having been up the tree), and he pushed open her bedroom door just in time to see the ghost.
"NO!"
He moved before Y/n did, grabbing a spare rapier from the dresser and moving to fight, hoping to save his sister.
Y/n moved, but backwards, taking a step back out onto the landing, her hand on her mouth.
"Anthony."
He had pushed the ghost back, and was picking up a net.
"Anthony."
He had thrown the net over the broken pot, wrapping it up securely.
"Anthony," she said, eyes fixed on the bed.
"What?" His eyes were wide with terror as he turned to look at her, evidently scared that she was in danger, but when he followed her finger that pointed to the bed, he choked.
"No," he croaked hoarsely, and Y/n felt terrible for making him realise. "Jessica? Jessica please wake up. Jessica. Jessica, this isn't funny. Jessica, please. Jessica."
He kept on like that, repeating her name and asking her to wake up, but Y/n knew that she wouldn't. She moved again then, over to where he stood, rapier hanging limply in his hand. It had only been three years ago he'd lost his parents, why did he have to lose someone else that he loved? Pulling him into her, she let him sob into her shoulder (difficult, given his growth spurt).
Y/n knew at that point that she wouldn't ever leave him.
~~~
"You what?!"
"I'm starting training," Anthony replied, not looking up from where he stood at the kitchen counter, buttering toast.
"But... but why?"
"Because," he shrugged. When he didn't expand on it, Y/n sighed.
She was worried about him.
He'd been vacant, hollow, since Jessica's death, and although he tried to smile and make everybody think that he was doing just fine, Y/n knew her best friend better than that. She saw the bags under his eyes, the lack of joy and mischief that used to reside in his gaze.
"Because what, Anthony?"
"Look, I'll be fine. This guy called Nigel is gonna train me, and then I'll be an agent, and I can keep you safe."
"I can keep myself safe, idiot," Y/n huffed indignantly, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.
"I know, I just want to be extra sure that you'll be okay. And everyone else."
"We're nine, Anthony. You went to a funeral a week ago and already you're talking to agents?"
"Yes. I'd like it if you came with me, obviously, but if you don't that's fine too. I'm doing this anyway, with or without you."
That hurt.
They always did everything together, so why was he talking like this?
"Fine. I'll talk to my parents. You need protecting too, dummy."
She'd broached the subject that night at dinner, expecting them to say no.
"Are you sure you want to do this, darling?"
"Yep," she said, stabbing some peas with her fork.
Her parents shared a look.
"Alright. Just promise us you'll be careful, and you'll pay attention in your training, yeah?"
Surprise made Y/n jolt, sending peas skidding across the table. "I can go?"
"Yes, but you have to promise us-"
"I promise!" Her parents chuckled, shaking their heads in a way that reminded Y/n of Monopoly and a late night.
~~~
Training was horrible.
Everybody was mean to her, just because she couldn't run as fast as the others, or move as quickly with a rapier.
"Look at her, she's gonna die within minutes!"
"Nah, she'll never make it that long. On the plus side, if she's in our group we only have to run faster than her!"
"Won't be too difficult!"
Y/n scowled at the whispers, making her way over to Anthony. She huffed, plopping down on the bench next to him and glaring at the girls.
"What's up with you?"
"They're being mean about me. Saying I'll be useless in the field."
"Aw, Y/n/n, they're stupid if they think that. You'll be amazing, I'm sure." He nudged her shoulder with his, smile working its way onto his face. Y/n couldn't help but smile back; his was too infectious. "You'll prove them wrong, I'm sure of it."
After that day, Y/n worked ten times as hard on the practical elements, a new intensity coming into her training with the other agents. She sparred against Anthony when they got home, blunt rapiers clashing in her back garden while her parents cooked dinner.
Within a month, she could beat pretty much everyone she trained with, the only exception being Anthony. He'd shown a skill with the rapier from the very beginning, and his long body made him graceful in a fight. She'd nearly beaten him a few times, but then he'd had a fire light in his eyes and he'd push her back, focus deadly as he forgot everything but the fight. She grew scared in those moments, and had stopped trying to beat him, afraid that he'd forget who she was and hurt her.
~~~
When they were fourteen, Y/n broke her promise and walked out on Anthony Lockwood.
He'd started a business, his own goddamn agency, in his own goddamn house, and he'd wanted her to work with him. She barely recognised the boy that stood in front of her the day he asked her; he was a shell of the best friend she used to have. He was vacant still, and she just wanted Anthony Lockwood back.
"Please? It'll be so much better if we're working together! You can come and live here, and your parents are still next door so you're not too far away, and we'll go on cases together, and it'll be great!"
Y/n had shaken her head, fear creeping up her spine. He'd grown a death wish recently, and although he vehemently denied it, she'd seen how he didn't seem to care about his personal safety when on cases led by the trainers.
"Anthony, you can't do this, please. You're gonna get hurt," she pleaded, hoping he'd come to his senses. If he wasn't so broken, she'd say yes, gladly, and work with him as they had always planned they would. But he was broken, and this job could destroy him.
"What, do you think I can't do it?" His brow furrowed in confusion, and Y/n could practically feel his guard start to go up.
He'd never done that with her before.
"It's not that, I just don't want you getting hurt. You're my best friend, Ant, and I don't wanna lose you."
"You won't lose me," he'd raised his voice slightly, pushing off of the kitchen counter as he got defensive. "You've seen me," he swept an arm out, referencing the training missions. "I'm the best agent they've got, and we both know it. I won't get hurt. I'm too good for that."
Y/n scoffed. "Do you hear yourself, Anthony? Do you realise how arrogant you sound? Because that's gonna get you killed." She'd raised her voice too, to match his, and she jabbed a finger into his chest.
"Arrogant? You think I'm arrogant? I thought we were 'best friends'?"
"Why did you say it like that?"
"What?"
"'Best friends', like we're not. You did little finger quotes like it was sarcastic."
"You always do this! Make something out of nothing!"
"What?" Her eyes narrowed. "What does that have to do with anything?"
"You tell me! You're the one saying I'm gonna get killed when I'm the most skilled agent we know! Why can't you just trust me?!"
"Because you will, Anthony! You will get yourself killed, and I can't let that happen! You can't start a company, just join Fittes, or Rotwell!"
"Fittes? Rotwell? I'd rather eat my own foot than join one of them! You just think I'm not capable of any of this, don't you? You think, that because my family is dead, I can't do this, because I should be grieving instead. Well I have grieved, and if you don't want to stay, then you can leave. I don't want you here if you're gonna keep being like this. Come back when you've sorted your attitude out." He turned his back, busying himself with making a cup of tea.
Y/n stared at him, mouth open in shock and tears threatening to fall.
"Prick. You're the one that needs to sort your attitude, not me."
She left then, grabbing her bag from the chair and scribbling a 'fuck you, Lockwood' onto the paper cloth on the table.
~~~
A year later, Y/n was working a job, and was actually somewhat happy.
She'd joined Fittes after her argument with Lockwood (she stubbornly refused to call him 'Anthony' until he'd apologised to her), and had been put in Quill Kipps' team. He was nice enough, arrogant and conceited at times, but Y/n put that down to his failing Senses and the stress of being team leader, since he was alright the rest of the time. He was more like an overworked teacher on a school trip with a bunch of primary school kids, and the bags under his eyes really added to the image.
It was a minor threat, Type One ghost that was giving an old lady the creeps, but they'd been waylaid on their way back to Fittes by a group of ghosts in the park, and two figures struggling to fight them all. There had to have been around twenty to thirty ghosts (all Type Ones, but they were angry), and when Kipps wondered aloud who would be so daft as to take them on, Y/n sighed, knowing exactly who would do it.
The Fittes team had jumped in, using the remainder of their flares and energy to help, and Y/n found the source, securing it quickly and efficiently. Mass graves were never fun, and this one wasn't much better. Spreading the silver net over the area, Y/n stood, careful not to jostle it.
"We don't need Fittes coming in, thanks, we were perfectly fine on our own."
"Sure," Kipps snorted. "Because being completely surrounded by ghosts and nearly dying is being perfectly fine. Give it a rest, Tony. Go back to your house and leave the agent work to the professionals, yeah?" Y/n rolled her eyes as she got closer, but she couldn't help but agree with what her leader was saying.
Anthony Lockwood looked terrible.
She had no idea who the other boy was (although he did look vaguely familiar), but he at least didn't look like he was on death's door.
"Y/n?"
She raised her eyebrows (she still couldn't figure out how to raise just the one, despite practicing for hours).
"Lockwood."
He flinched, almost imperceptibly, but she knew him too well to miss it. Nobody else noticed.
"Why are you... Are you working for Fittes?"
"Yes." He wasn't getting more out of her, not until he apologised. Kipps was looking between the two of them, as was the other boy with Lockwood, both clearly confused.
"How do you know each other?" Kipps asked.
"We were-"
"We were neighbours. Didn't talk much outside of that." Her tone was bland, and her face nonchalant, and she turned to leave. "Has somebody called DEPRAC?" Ned nodded, waving the radio in his hand.
"Said they'd be two minutes. Should be here in a minute."
"Perfect. Can we get that tea now, Kipps?"
He hesitated, obviously still unsure about what was going on. "Sure. We'll drop the other Source off first though, yeah?"
They left, and although Y/n could feel Lockwood's stare on her back, she didn't turn around.
~~~
It was a month later that Y/n saw Lockwood again, and it was almost the same situation. Her team had been patrolling the streets, making sure the area was secure, when they'd seen magnesium flares going off. They'd rushed in, and Y/n had scoffed when she caught sight of the long black coat and flashy moves.
"Outta the way, Tony!"
The Fittes team had made quick work of the Type Two, bagging the Source and claiming the reward. Y/n felt a little bad about the money, but at the same time Lockwood needed to learn how to get control over the situations he put himself in if he wanted to keep the reward. He seemed to take on the cases that were ridiculously out of his reach, and if Y/n was speaking to him she'd guess that he was trying to prove a point.
She and her team were warming up in a cafe afterwards, one of the late night ones that opened specifically for agents, when Lockwood and his coworker walked in. The pair breezed past, and when the other boy had smiled apologetically at them and given Y/n a little wave, she remembered who he was.
"George! Wait, it is George, isn't it?"
"Uh, yeah," he scratched the back of his head, and adjusted his glasses on his face. "I wasn't sure you remembered me, to be honest."
"I knew I'd seen you before, it just took me a bit to remember where from. Also it was dark the last two times we saw each other, so that won't have helped. Anyway, how are you?"
They chatted for a while, George shifting the piles of paper he had in his arms.
"Do you need to put those down?" she asked after he readjusted them for what seemed like the millionth time.
"I should probably get over to Lockwood, actually. I'm pretty sure he's burning holes in my jumper right now."
"Oh, he's glaring at me, don't worry."
"Why would he be glaring at you? You're lovely," he questioned, confused. "I thought you were just neighbours anyway?"
"Yeah. We had an argument a while back. He was a knob."
"Oh. Yeah, I can see that he would be." George nodded in understanding. "I should definitely go and join him though. We've got all this to get through," he held up the papers slightly, and Y/n smiled up at him.
"Well good luck, George. See you soon?"
"Probably the next time you save us. Lockwood has a death wish apparently. Doesn't let me research for long enough," he complained, shaking his head as he turned and left. Y/n had been right. Lockwood was being reckless, and he'd get himself, and quite possibly George, killed.
She and her team were just finishing up, with Kipps paying the bill and her other teammates standing with him at the till, when Lockwood came over. Y/n had stepped outside, breathing in the cold night air, and when she heard the door she instinctively turned to look, expecting her coworkers.
"Oh. It's you."
"C'mon. Don't be like that, Y/n."
She snorted. "You know you're proving me right, right? You keep throwing yourself into situations you can't win in, and you're going to get yourself killed."
"I'm not proving you right," he started, frown forming on his face. He'd had another growth spurt, she realised. He'd stepped closer to her, out of the way of the cafe door so that other agents could enter, and now he towered over her.
"Yes, you are. Stop being a dick, Lockwood, and realise that you're going to get yourself seriously hurt someday."
"Since when was I Lockwood to you?"
"You know when."
"True. Lovely message, by the way. Great parting gift."
"Yeah, well you were being an asshole, and it felt fitting to write 'fuck you'."
He muttered something under his breath, too quiet for her to hear.
"Excuse me?"
"I said, 'Yeah, I bet you'd like to'," he repeated, louder this time, meeting her eyes with a smug smile on his face.
"Grow up, Lockwood."
"That's not a denial."
Y/n turned to him, looking him dead in the eyes. "Yes it is." She tried to sound threatening, but that was difficult when he was nearly a whole head taller than her. She was saved by her team coming out of the cafe, and she shoved her hands in her pockets, hunching her shoulders against the chill.
"You alright, Y/n?" Kipps asked, concern for his colleague appearing on his face.
"Yeah, fine. Let's go."
~~~
Those meetings kept happening, and it was beginning to frustrate Y/n.
Lockwood had started being more flirty, as if he actually enjoyed getting on her nerves, and the past year had been exhausting.
It was the same every time.
Y/n's Fittes team would be patrolling, or coming back from a job, or heading to a job, when they'd see two figures, or their flares, or hear their shouts, fighting an incessant number of ghosts. The group would jump in, joining the fight, and somehow Y/n and Lockwood ended up next to each other. She was certain he engineered it that way specifically so that he could irritate her with his comments, and that just irritated her even more. What he said was always the same thing, too.
"Do you come here often?"
"We have to stop meeting like this."
"What are you doing after this?"
When she told him to shut up and focus on the job, he'd ignore her, or answer with something just as bad.
"Make me."
"I'll stop talking if you join me later."
Both of those were said with smug smirks and winks, and Y/n went home to her crappy flat close to the Fittes building (she couldn't stand being near him after the argument) every night wondering what the hell had happened to her old best friend.
The last case had been particularly annoying.
The same routine had occurred, but this time there were three of them.
Y/n was surprised to see the girl, but as soon as she saw her fighting she decided that she liked her. She was feisty, and from what Y/n could tell, didn't take any of Lockwood's shit. She looked like the sort of person Y/n would be friends with, or at least get along with, like with George (they had limited contact outside of saving them).
But then the Fittes team had helped, and Lockwood hadn't come near Y/n.
She was glad in some ways, it meant she didn't have his incessant flirting in her ear, and she was glad, until she looked to see where he'd gone.
He was side by side with the girl, and they fought together like they'd been doing it their whole lives. For some reason it annoyed Y/n, despite the fact she'd sworn to block out any feelings for Lockwood other than annoyance and hate, and she grumbled the rest of the night. Kipps picked up on it, and questioned her.
"What's up with you? Surely you'd be happy that Tony left you alone?"
"Yeah, I am. It's something else, don't worry."
"Alright... well, don't let it get to you too much, yeah? We need you focusing on missions, you're too good at what you do."
Y/n nodded, flushing slightly at the compliment.
They made it to the cafe just as Lockwood and Co did, and Y/n bristled at seeing the three of them laughing together.
Well, at seeing Lockwood and the girl laughing together.
George she was just happy to see, he was always nice to her back when he worked at Fittes, and when they passed each other in the Archives or finished jobs together, and she didn't think she could ever be mad at him.
Lockwood and his new colleague, however, she could justify.
"Oh, hi!"
Ugh, she was nice. That made disliking her even harder.
"Hi," Y/n forced a smile, hoping it didn't look too fake.
"I'm Lucy," she said, coming closer to Y/n as the two of them trailed behind the others.
"Y/n. How long you been working with him then?"
"Uh, about a week? Do you... do you not like Lockwood or something?"
"What makes you say that?"
"You just... said 'him' like you wanted to rip his head off."
"Oh. Well, that's one thing I wanna do to him."
Apparently Lockwood tuned in to their conversation at that specific moment, because he turned around, smirk already in place.
"What are the other things you want to do to me, Y/n? I'd love to find out later. My place or yours?"
Y/n scoffed, pushing past him to join her teammates. Behind her she heard a thump, followed by a small "Ow!" Assuming that Lucy had hit him, Y/n smiled, and started liking the girl again. Maybe she wasn't as bad as she originally thought.
~~~
It had been nearly two years since Y/n had first met Lucy, and her second impression of the girl had stuck.
They'd saved Lockwood and Co far too many times since the girls had first met, but Y/n didn't mind. She enjoyed seeing Lucy and George (and Lockwood, but she wouldn't tell anyone that), and if getting involved and having to suffer Lockwood's chatter meant that the three of them lived another day, Y/n would gladly take that sacrifice.
Y/n and Lucy met up regularly in the down time that they both shared, either at Y/n's flat, or in a cafe or shop somewhere. Sometimes George came along, having snuck out under the pretence that he was researching at the Archives, and the three of them had lengthy chats about pretty much anything. Lockwood came up in conversation a lot, of course, given he was something they all had in common, but Y/n always steered away from the subject.
Tonight, however, she wasn't getting let off the hook.
"Why do you always do that?" Lucy asked, stuffing a chip in her mouth. They were sat on the floor of Y/n's tiny kitchen, take away boxes of food in front of them.
"Do what?"
"Whenever Lockwood gets mentioned you start talking about other things. Why do you do that?"
Y/n shrugged, eating some of her own food. "'Cause he's a knob and I don't want to think about him more than I have to?"
"He's always flirting with you though, and you always flirt back."
"Thanks for the observation, George. And I do not flirt back!"
"Oh you totally do, like earlier, right, he was saying something about how your uniform really compliments your complexion or something, and you look really good in it, and you said, wait, George, you take over, I need a drink," Lucy spoke.
"You said 'thanks, I look better without it', and winked at him. I had to physically push him out of the way of a ghost because he was stood staring at you like an idiot."
"He always looks like an idiot," Y/n mumbled, cheeks going red.
"George is right, he's actually gonna end up hurting himself if you two don't get on with it soon."
"He's at risk of death anyway! And get on with what?"
"Snogging," Lucy said, at the same time George said "Making out."
Y/n stared at her friends, hand pausing halfway to her mouth, chip in between her fingers. "What?!"
"Seriously, there's so much tension I could slice it with my rapier. Just stick your tongue in his mouth already."
"Lucy!"
The girl just shrugged. "We are seventeen, you know that right? I know people who've shagged at seventeen. I'm honestly surprised the two of you haven't yet, which is why you need to get on with it."
"That would be... no, that's too weird."
"Why is it weird? He's your old neighbour, you had an argument about something petty probably, and now he's flirting with you 'cause he's realised how hot you are. If he doesn't kiss you I will, just so I can say I kissed the hottest girl I know."
"Aw, thanks Luce. I'd rather kiss you than him, to be honest."
"The bar is low. He's punching."
"Definitely. You alright George?"
"I don't understand girls," he replied, having been quiet the last few minutes while Y/n and Lucy went back and forth. "What did you argue about, anyway? Because you've held a grudge against him for at least three years now and I have never known why."
"Was it petty?"
"No, Lucy, it wasn't petty." Y/n sighed, taking a break from eating. "He... We were fourteen, just finished all of our training, and he told me he wanted to start his agency."
"That is kinda petty though."
"Lemme finish. I don't know how much he's told you about his family," she paused, looking at the other two.
"Not much, but we know they're all dead."
"Yeah, and he showed us Jessica's room."
Y/n raised her eyebrows. He'd kept that room stubbornly locked since she'd died.
"Right. Well, a week after her funeral, he told me he wanted to start training to be an agent. We were nine, and he was definitely not okay at all. Anyway, we did it, and then like I said, when we'd finished, he told me he wanted to start an agency in his house and he wanted me to join him. He was still not himself, and I was just worried that he was going to end up killing himself. Hell, he'd almost hurt me a few times in training. We were the top two in our academy, so we ended up fighting together a lot. But he'd get... intense. Focused. But not in a good way. It was like... he saw anyone he was up against as a ghost, and he wanted revenge for what had happened with his family. We argued about the agency. I told him something about how if he did it he'd just end up hurt, because I knew him and I knew that he wouldn't think he had anything to live for. He took that to mean that I thought he was incapable, and he told me to leave and that I could come back when I'd fixed my attitude."
The three of them sat in silence for a few minutes, Y/n staring at her take away box in her lap, George and Lucy absorbing everything she'd told them.
"Fuck," Lucy finally said, breaking the quiet.
"Yeah."
"Wait, so you weren't just neighbours?" George asked. "You must have been closer than that if you knew him so well."
"Best friends. We're the same age, and our parents had lived next to each other since before we were born. Just made sense really that we were friends."
"Does he know? That you were worried about him?" Lucy questioned.
"Probably not. Should have guessed it though, given how close we were. I mean, he's seen me ugly cry at funerals, and they weren't even my relatives, they were his."
"Maybe you should talk to him? I know, I know, he needs to apologise for being a knob, but you were fourteen. I mean, it's three years on and he's still the mental age of a five year old, but talking might help?"
"Anyway, Lockwood's hopeless when it comes to women. Completely clueless," George added.
"How would you know?" Y/n frowned, not liking the way her heart clenched at the idea of Lockwood talking to other girls.
"Because he hasn't done anything about you, and you're probably the most amazing girl that's ever going to get a chance with in his life. Maybe he's intimidated by you."
"He's not getting a chance. Not like that. Don't look at me like that, Luce. If I don't kiss him that means I'm kissing you."
"Oh, alright then. I'm fine if you don't wanna make up with him," she replied, cheeky smile appearing on her face.
They left the topic alone after that, moving on to other subjects, but Y/n couldn't help but think about the boy with a death wish.
~~~
It was only a week after her evening with George and Lucy that Y/n had to help save Lockwood again (it was so ridiculous she was almost entirely convinced he came unprepared just so that he could see her).
"Miss me, darling?"
"In your dreams, Lockwood," she shouted back at him, dodging a Type Two. She gritted her teeth as she hit the ground, jagged rocks digging in and pain shooting through her side. Rolling, she stood again, panicking for a moment when she realised she'd dropped her rapier.
"Here you go, darling," Lockwood said, appearing out of nowhere with her rapier. "Do I get a reward for returning your belongings?"
"Yeah, you do, actually," she replied, getting close enough to him she could feel his breath on her face. "You get to not be stabbed by me. Duck." He did, almost immediately, and Y/n threw a flare at the Spectre behind him. Lockwood popped back up, somehow still smiling despite the utter carnage surrounding them.
"If I got hurt, would you visit me in hospital?"
"Yeah, to finish you off."
He laughed, and Y/n turned away so he couldn't see the blush rising on her face at the sound. As she did so, she caught a glimpse of something that definitely wasn't dead rummaging around where she had thought the Source for the cluster was.
Relic men.
"Lockwood?"
"Yes, my love?"
"Relic men, over by the Source. What are we gonna do about them?" She hadn't taken her eyes off of the two figures that were crouched by the oak tree, afraid that if she moved her gaze they would run off. When Lockwood only cursed, she panicked, wondering what was wrong. Normally by now he would have charged in to the fight, all guns blazing. Why wasn't he doing that now? Had he suddenly realised that she was right? Because this was really terrible timing if he had. "Lockwood?" Her voice had gone up in pitch, fear making it quiver. Relic men were nasty, and a lot harder to deal with than ghosts. Ghosts she'd been trained for.
"We're surrounded by them. They're blocking all reasonable exits."
"Shit. Okay. What about unreasonable exits?"
"What?"
"You said they're blocking all reasonable exits, yeah? So what about the unreasonable ones? Could we get out anywhere else?"
"Uh... there's a gap in the fence over there," he pointed. "But that would mean letting them have the Source. It's too powerful, we can't let that happen."
"Ugh, okay, hang on. Go and tell the others, just in case they haven't noticed."
"What about you?"
"I'm keeping an eye on these two, make sure they don't get away. I'll try and get closer, but there's a lot of Type Ones in the way."
"You'll be okay?"
"If I die you can take me on a date."
"That's... what? That doesn't make sense."
"Take it or leave it, Lockwood. Get a move on."
He left, casting a last look over his shoulder at her before disappearing into the night to find the others. Y/n felt unease creep up her spine, and she gripped her rapier tighter, her other hand hovering over the remaining flares in her belt. The relic men were still digging, and a few of the ghosts had noticed the disturbance now, moving over. Y/n frowned, a thought occurring to her.
Relic men waited until the ghosts were gone.
So what were they doing here, now? Why endanger themselves? Before she could think on it further, she felt the air shift behind her and ducked to the left just as a fist appeared in the space her head was in mere seconds ago.
Shit.
She pulled herself back up, readjusting her grip on the rapier and taking a quick glance over to the tree. Seeing the two relic men still there, Y/n whipped back around, ducking again just in time to miss the next punch. The man pulled out a knife, the edges jagged, and a wicked grin came over his face. Y/n gulped, then parried his attacks. He was relentless, swinging and then swinging again immediately after, never letting up on her. It was all she could do to keep her arm upright and strong enough to block him, and the ache in her side from hitting the ground earlier was turning into a throb that wracked her body with pain. The relic man noticed the weakness, and his grin grew wider, broken teeth showing. He became even more frantic in his attacks, and Y/n felt herself stumbling backwards over the grass. The floor was uneven, and she tripped, crashing onto her back. She got her rapier up in time to hold off the relic man's knife that had carved a path through the air to cut through her head, but he was stronger than her, and his blade was edging closer to her face. He was only using the one hand, and Y/n realised a split-second too late that his other hand was reaching for his belt, where a second knife was strapped. Her eyes widened in recognition briefly right before he plunged the blade into her side, and she let out a scream.
The pain was all-consuming, and it took everything in her to keep her rapier up, the shockwaves coursing through her body. She took a hazy note of the fact that he hadn't pulled it out yet, which was good, but her vision was blurry, which was not so good. At least if the knife was still inside her body then she wasn't losing too much blood. Her grip weakened, and she saw the other knife jolt towards her face before it disappeared, the man being flung backwards into the bushes in a flash of light. Lucy appeared, hair wild and filled with leaves, her own rapier in hand. She crouched down, pressing a hand to Y/n's cheek and checking if she was okay.
"Threw a flare at him, should knock him out for a while. LOCKWOOD! HURRY UP! Sorry, I told him to get his ass over here just now, but he's stuck with some ghosts, and they're-"
"Lucy?"
"Yeah?" Her voice was hopeful, glad that her friend was conscious enough to speak.
"Please stop talking."
"Y/N!"
She winced at the shout, and Lucy moved over to make room for Lockwood. Y/n rolled her eyes at the cuts on his face, and the gash on his arm. "You can't help yourself, can you? Gotta throw yourself into danger headfirst."
"Shut up. Can you sit?"
"Did you just tell me to shut up? Anthony Lockwood, do not tell me to shut up when I could be dying."
"Y/n, please, don't do this. Can you sit?" His voice was insistent, desperation seeping into his expression, and his glare was convincing enough that she tried to sit up. The pain in her side was too much though, and she ended up half-slumped against a tree. "Who did this? Y/n? Who did this to you?" His tone was lower now, with something dangerous in the background.
"Lucy hit him with a flare. He's over there somewhere." She waved in the general direction she'd seen him disappear in. "Anthony, where are you going?" He froze, looking down at her from where he now stood. The full moon was behind him, and he looked otherworldly in the silver light.
"Lucy will stay with you, okay? Just hang on. I'll be back in a minute. Don't die on me now, Y/n/n." He softened a little at the last part, trying to convey a million emotions in a few words.
"Wait, I'm staying here?"
"Yes, Lucy." And with that he left, stalking in the direction Y/n had pointed him in.
"You alright?"
"Brilliant, thanks Luce," Y/n replied, and then she promptly passed out.
~~~
A soft beeping woke Y/n up, and the harsh light above her and the sterile smell in the air immediately told her that she was in a hospital.
That didn't explain the warmth in her left hand though.
Blinking as she adjusted to the bright light, she turned her head to the left, and had she not been drugged up on painkillers she would have reacted much more quickly and jerked away.
But she was drugged up on painkillers, so instead she just stared at the boy asleep in the chair next to her bed.
Anthony looked peaceful when he slept, he always had, but he didn't look particularly comfortable right now. His right hand was holding her left, and he'd managed to pull one of his long legs up onto the chair, bracing his forehead on his knee while his left arm dangled off the side of the armrest. Yeah, he couldn't be comfortable like that. She squeezed his hand lightly, but he didn't wake. A nurse came in, and upon seeing Y/n awake, smiled.
"Your boyfriend must love you a lot. He hasn't left your side since you came in. Rode in the ambulance with you too, which he wasn't meant to. Paramedics said he was very insistent and needed treating anyway, so they let him. He's been really worried about you." Y/n was on too much morphine to fully comprehend what was going on, and her brain had stopped working properly at the word 'boyfriend' anyway.
"Oh," was all she said, and the nurse smiled, going through her checkups. Y/n drifted in and out of consciousness for half an hour before Anthony woke up.
He blinked a few times, just as she had, stretching like a cat, long limbs going everywhere but never removing his hand from hers. His grip only tightened, and when he saw her watching him with a small smile on her face, he returned it.
"You're awake."
"No, I'm dead," she deadpanned. "Obviously I'm awake, idiot. If I died I'd have to go on a date with you."
He frowned. "Would that really be so bad?"
"Yeah. You should be going on a date with me, not the other way around."
He laughed lightly, more an amused exhale than anything else. "You are so drugged up right now."
"Yep," she replied, popping the 'p'. His thumb was stroking across her hand, and Y/n wondered if he knew he was doing it.
~~~
"Ugh, do I have to live at yours? What's wrong with my house?"
"You live on the fifth floor and there aren't any lifts. You were also specifically told not to climb too many stairs."
"Yeah, but your house has almost as many stairs as my apartment building, so what's the difference?"
"The difference is that I can look after you here, because I live here. Don't touch that, it's still healing, and- ow!"
"Oh shit, sorry. It looks healed."
"Yeah, well you're not the only one that got stabbed, alright? Here, let me get the door."
Anthony sprung up the last step, fishing the keys out of his coat pocket and unlocking the door. Y/n followed behind, wincing when the movement up the stairs put pressure on her wound. She'd been in hospital for two weeks once she'd woken up, and had been told to stay at home until she was properly healed. Anthony had taken on the role of carer immediately, and the nurses had all mentioned (multiple times) what a good and loving boyfriend he was, looking after Y/n the way he was, despite his own injuries.
Neither of them had denied it.
Once inside 35 Portland Row, Y/n took a look around, and was surprised to see that it had barely changed in the last three years.
"Right. Tea? I think George has just put the kettle on."
"Anthony?"
"Yeah?" His smile was tentative, clearly not wanting to scare her off when she'd just started calling him by his first name again.
"Please don't make me sleep on the sofa. Because that looks like the same one your parents got when we were four and I remember how uncomfortable that one is." She pointed to the sofa in question, and he shook his head.
"No, you're not sleeping there. What sort of a boyfriend would I be if I let that happen?" he joked, and Y/n felt her heart flutter at the idea. "You can sleep in my bed, alright? It's only one flight of stairs, which will hurt, but it'll be good for you to get the exercise in, make sure you're healing properly."
Y/n frowned. "Where are you sleeping if I'm in your bed?" She half expected him to say that he'd be right next to her, but he smiled softly again.
"Sofa. No, don't look at me like that, I've slept in worse places."
"What worse places? Ant, you've got to look after yourself! God, you're gonna give me a heart attack one of these days."
She started making her way up the stairs, huffing from the effort. She was tired, despite having spent just over two weeks lying down, and it was already late in the evening.
"It doesn't matter, alright? Just... let's just get you to bed, okay?"
"You're sleeping in a bed, and that's that."
"You are so stubborn sometimes."
"So are you!" She made it to the half landing, and hobbled over to the door she remembered being Anthony's. "You still in here?" At his nod, she pushed the door open, going over to the bed and sitting on the edge. "Seriously, this bed is big enough for the both of us. I'm not letting you sleep on the sofa, Ant. It's super uncomfortable."
"Won't that be... I don't know. Won't that be weird?"
"Why would it be weird?"
"Because we haven't... we're not... you don't like me and I'm scared you're going to murder me in my sleep."
"You... what? Uh... okay. I'm not gonna murder you in your sleep, Ant. One, that's completely dishonourable. I would do it while you were awake so that you could look into the eyes of your killer. Two, I do like you, I just also need you to apologise. For what you said."
"You want me to apologise? I was just defending myself, because I was hurt by what you said. You made out like I wasn't capable and that stung, because you'd always been my biggest supporter."
"Oh for fuck's sake, Anthony. I wasn't saying that at all. I was worried about you because you weren't yourself after Jess died. You were... I don't know. You weren't you, and it freaked me out when you said you were starting an agency, because it's a crazy thing to do! You sort of became a shell of my best friend, and disappeared, and I was worried that you would die and I would lose you because you wouldn't care about living anymore. I know that you are perfectly capable of fighting, and you're one of the best swordsmen I've ever met, but you're an emotional wreck, Ant."
He was quiet for a bit, staring into space as he thought about her words. Y/n sighed, lying down on the covers and closing her eyes.
"I'm sorry." She felt the bed dip next to her as he sat down. "I'm sorry. I said some horrible things to you and you had every right to leave. I don't have an excuse for what I said, and if you want to leave tomorrow morning then I'll help you move into your flat again. But I just... I'm sorry, Y/n/n."
Y/n sighed again. "I don't want to go. I've missed it here," she admitted. "And yeah, you were an idiot and an arse, but you're my idiot, alright? You have a lot of grovelling to do as well." He nodded rapidly, and a secret smile spread on his face, one of the ones he showed her and nobody else.
"Your idiot?"
"Yes, Anthony. My idiot." They smiled at each other, soft and gentle. A thought occurred to Y/n, and her brow furrowed. "What happened after I passed out in the park? All I remember is you looking murderous and asking who stabbed me."
"Oh, right." Anthony looked away, blush creeping up his neck.
"What happened?"
"He's not coming after you again, if that helps. Or anyone. DEPRAC completely purified the area."
Y/n gaped at him. "You killed him?"
Anthony shrugged. "He hurt you, badly, and you could have been killed. If Lucy had been a second later..." He trailed off, eyes clouding over slightly.
"Ant?" Y/n pushed herself up into a sitting position, wincing at the stab of pain that shot through her in protest.
"Hmm?" he turned to look at her, and his eyes went wide when she slid an arm up around his neck.
"Lucy and George think that we need to make out."
"They, uh... they what?"
"They think that we need to make out."
He swallowed thickly, eyes flickering between hers, trying to figure out what was going on. When he spoke, it was in a hoarse whisper.
"What do you think?"
"I think we should listen to them. They're normally right about things. What about you?"
"Uh... okay?"
Y/n hesitated, suddenly unsure.
"Ant, do you want to? Because if you don't that's totally fine, I just assumed that you felt the same as me, and we were both fine with the hospital thinking that we're dating, and I genuinely really like you, and I probably love you-" she was cut off by his lips on hers, slightly chapped but still soft.
"I do want to, I'm just hopeless around girls, especially the ones I've loved since I was about ten." He'd barely pulled away, his nose brushing the side of hers, breath fanning over her lips.
"George was right about that too, then," she murmured, kissing him again. "He said you were hopeless with women."
"Thank god. I thought he knew I've been in love with you for years."
"Oh you're in love now, are you?"
"Started about seven years ago, but sure." He pushed forward again, bringing a hand up to cup her cheek as he kissed her softly and slowly.
"Is that why you flirted with me?"
Anthony flushed, nodding slightly. "In my defence I am completely hopeless with pretty girls, and I wanted to know if there was any chance of you sharing my feelings."
Y/n kissed him again, short and sweet. "I love you, Anthony Lockwood. Just look after yourself more, yeah?"
"I love you too," he replied. Y/n prodded him in the side.
"And?"
"And I'll look after myself more," he said, smiling. "Anything for you, anytime."
They kissed again, for longer this time, exploring each other and being mindful of their injuries, and Y/n thought she could happily spend eternity wrapped up in his arms
"You're definitely not sleeping on the sofa," she said when they paused for air a while later.
"If you say so," he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows. She smacked a hand against his chest, face going red at his implication.
"Not like that, idiot."
"Your idiot," he smiled, pure joy on his face as he pecked her lips.
"My idiot," she replied, mirroring his grin.
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yourlocalfriendlyhobbit · 2 years ago
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Hello! Could you do a merlin x reader to the prompt accidentally referencing them as "my". Maybe Merlin accidentally references the reader as his s/o when speaking to arthur or smthg and arthur gets all oooo and starts questioning merlin only for the reader to come into the room and Arthur just starts teasing them and it all ends in merlin confessing his feelings? Thank you!!!
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<< Part 2 | Part 3 (not posted yet) >>
• A/N:
It's actually the first time I write for the show! i'm happy there's still people who loves it! Please keep sending me requests for any characters of the show (bonus points if it's Mordred! i freaking loooove him!)
I kept the idea of Merlin refering to reader as 'my' but changed the plot because i couldn't find how to write it... i really hope you don't mind...
AND I AM SOOOO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE! And i also apologise to the other people who sent me requests! i have a major writing block at the moment, and i didn't want to write something that would be bad... y'all trust me with your ideas, i only want to give you guys the best <3
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With the tourney coming up, Camelot was bustling; servants were running back and forth, preparing rooms for the lords and ladies that would come. And Arthur didn't spare Merlin, who already had tones of chores to do... And more chores meant he wouldn't be spending time with you any time soon...
It wasn't really a secret that the young man had a crush on you; though he thought he was hiding it good enough, pretty much everyone saw it. Yes, even Arthur; he was just waiting for the perfect opportunity to tease Merlin about it.
And it's the day of the tourney that said opportunity came.
...
The day was just as chaotic as you would expect it to be. Servants and squires running around the grounds of the castle to get what their lords want; Horses were being tended to; Ladies could be seen occasionaly, looking for the knight they wished to give their favors to... And Arthur was being Arthur. He made Merlin run to his room to get him something that he forgot (of course he said that it was Merlin who forgot it).
Merlin was running in one of the corridors, dodging other servants and guards, apologising when he knocked into someone. But in his hurry, he spotted you carrying a basket of what looked like bed sheets. Merlin had not seen you in maybe 2 or 3 days. He was running so fast that when he saw you and tried to stop to talk to you, he tripped over his own feet, and fell face first on the hard ground, and what he was carrying ended up flying at the end of the corridor.
People around didn't stop to help him; some looked at him laying on the ground but kept walking. Everyone except you. You ran up to him.
"Merlin? Merlin, are you okay?"
You put your hand on his shoulder lightly. He growned in pain, holding the side of his head.
"I think I'm okay, but I have hit my head pretty hard..."
He said. Merlin knew that he would be okay, he could use magic to heal himself.
"Are you sure? Maybe we should get Gaius to check if you are really okay..."
He knew he shouldn't smiled but seeing you so worried for him was making him flustered. He sat up slowly, his hand still holding the side of his head.
"No, no, really I'm good... I have to go back to Arthur's tent to help him finish getting ready for the tourney. This dollophead can't do it alone."
He laughed. The last comment made you chuckle. It was impressive how Merlin could talk to the Prince and not get punished for it... You helped him stand up, making sure he could actually stand on his two feets.
"Alright Merlin, you go help him... but stop running please. You are going to really hurt yourself one day..."
He chuckled, and before he could really think, he kissed your forehead.
"Don't worry, my (Y/n), i wont!"
It took Merlin a second, seeing your red face, to realise what he had just done and said. Which resulted in him blushing just as much as you. He started stuttering, trying to apologise and his heart was racing. You found that endearing. You thought he was adorable.
Unbeknownst to both of you, Arthur, who was getting impatient seeing as Merlin had not come back, was standing at the end of the corridor, watching. Now, he had what he wanted to tease Merlin as much as much as possible...
"(Y/n) I- hum- I'm sorry I- I don't know why I did that-"
"Merlin, it's okay, no need to apologise..."
You said calmly. You just looked at eachother for a second before you both smiled. You were looking at the ground, with red cheeks, but Merlin couldn't look away from you, completely entranced by you. You cleared your throat before saying:
"I should go or I'm going to be yelled at.... And Arthur is going to be mad if you don't come back soon... But we could talk again, later..."
His heart was pounding so hard, he was sure you could hear it.
"Yes- Y-Yes, absolutely! Can't wait!"
He said breathlessly. You picked up your basket.
"Then , see you later."
You stood on your tip toes, and kissed his cheek. You gave him one last smile and left. Merlin stood there, smiling like a dork, watching you leave. When you turned a corner and disappeared from sight, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder. And when he turned, he saw Arthur smiling mischievously.
"I send you to my chambers to get something, and find you flirting with (Y/n)- Let me rephrase this. Flirting with your (Y/n)~"
Merlin became red from neck to the tip of his ears. It was really his luck... He wouldn't hear the end of it. Arthur added:
"I can't blame you, Merlin. They're very pretty... And it's about time you do something about that crush you have on them, because I was getting frustrated to see you all desesperate to get their attention..."
"Oh, you mean desesperate like you are when Guinevere is in your vicinity...?"
The words flew out of his mouth before he had time to stop them. Arthur looked at Merlin with raised eyebrows, as if saying 'oh, are we really doing that now...?'. Merlin started taking small steps backward, before breaking into a full sprint with Arthur chasing after him...
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DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS!
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artmolonara · 25 days ago
Text
Reset - Short Fic/Free Write
It was in darkness that I found them, tied to a chair so tight their hands were purple, a sting gone wrong.
They were not going to like what they became coherent to, but some small part would thank me, I know.
So as the last insect was squashed, stains seeping into wallpaper and plaster, I turned my care to my Detective, with a far more gentler hand.
First, unbinding, catching them in their slump, propping them up with my form, which was still drenched from the spray back of crimson liquid.
I softly rubbed blood back through their wrists, encouraging a return to their normal color.
Their hands... I can't help a moment to actually feel them, the rough callouses each digit holds, the small scars and imperfections of a life of hunting, like mine. The only thing that ruins it is the cold metal ring that chokes their perfect finger, like the zip ties just had done mere moments ago.
I wonder if there is something I can do about that...
But before I can entertain that notion, they stir, and I have a new objective.
"Come on, let's get you out of here."
I do not take them far; another room, away from my artwork. I know red isn't their color.
A kitchen is the nearest room that is clean, untouched, sparse, but there is at least ice to chill bruises. And the bump on their head looked like a nasty one.
... really bad actually, not that I'm looking at it.
A worry sets in, I inspect more closely, trying to remember the symptoms of a concussion.
"Detective? Hey, Detective? Are you with me?" I try to pry open an eyelid to see the pupil size, make sure they were even.
I'm shrugged off, they are rousing to attention, looking around bleary. I study, looking for signs of something off.
"What... happened?" They ask, a dull confusion in their voice.
I try to meet their eyes, to see the pupils. "You got beaten pretty badly, do you feel alright?"
Our eyes finally meet. Something isn't right. The pupils dilate, and in them, there is something missing. A panic grips me. I search their gaze for an answer, "Detective?"
They blink, eyebrows furrowing, "...I..." a question is trying to escape. I find myself leaning in unconsciously. Finally, they ask.
"...Who... who are you?"
Now I think it's my time for widened eyes. I look for a jest, but there is none, this is true. Real.... Appetizing.
I cannot help the smile that splits my face as I take their hand, running my thumb over the ring.
"I am your's," I answer with sincerity, approaching to lean into them, my forehead on their perfect marble hand, "And you are mine."
What followed would have been rejection, hurtful words and dirty looks.
But instead, a calloused hand rests, tentatively, upon my head, feeling my hair for the first time.
Hello new home.
Let the renovation begin.
...
(How we feel about amnesiac Detective? :0) I wonder how long Waldo can keep up the lie...)
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