#I was trying to imitate a cool thing some of my mutuals do when they render hair AND NOW! Glitter. glittery loverboy

[merklins]

For the funny art ask game, could I get a LoverBoy in F4 and the Hewwo palette pleeeease? :>

-🎠 Romeo

Sure you can! Fresh out of the heart shaped glitter factory hahaha

THE ASK GAME!

[lighthouseshepard]

ahhh been too afraid to pm you but hi from a silent mutual!!

writing prompt: john and yorick chat while arthur sleeps :))

HI HELLO!! im also always too afraid to pm everyone! thank you so much for sending this in and so sorry it took me a while! been a very busy few days (:

"Is he fully asleep, my king?"

John groans in annoyance among the relative darkness he'd been sulking within. Ever since Arthur's eyes shut once he fell into an exhausted, heavy slumber nearly thirty minutes prior, he'd been reluctant to try and exercise what little muscle control he possessed to squint them open again. Manipulating those muscles usually woke him regardless of how careful he was, leaving him with a splitting headache neither of them could explain. And at the moment, John couldn't bring himself to disturb the hard won sleep, as fitful as it was.

Yes, he's asleep, he hisses impatiently. Yorick's voice came from somewhere to their left, still attached by the chain threaded around their waist. Arthur's right arm twitches, fingers scrabbling for some imaginary thing, before falling still.

"Excellent," says the skull. "Our master requires much rest after that entire ordeal."

Our master? John snorts. The subtle stirrings of a cool night's breeze brush against the skin of his left hand, welcome after the wet, stale air of the cave. He's your master, not mine. 

"He is master to both of us!" Yorick exclaims, far too loudly. "Just as you are a king to him and myself. An inseparable pair, the dies irae, intertwined inexorably, dominion over one another and all else."

Jesus fucking Christ, John mutters, wishing he could wince. What does that even mean?

“Exactly as I said. Would you like me to repeat it?”

No, no. Can you quiet down? You're going to wake him.

“Certainly, my king.” His reply drops to a tone only slightly less loud than before. 

 And stop calling me that, he adds irritably. I'm not a king.

"You were once a king," Yorick states matter of fact, jaw clacking solidly as he speaks, a peculiarly troubling imitation of human life. "I do not see the issue with proclaiming this."

Once, he emphasizes. I'm not... I'm not that being any longer. I don't claim to be any kind of ruler anymore.

"Fair enough! What shall I call you if not a ruler, then?" 

John, he grinds out, the last droplet of water among the barren desert of his patience threatening to dissolve. John is fine.

"Alright," Yorick says, sounding pleased. "King John, how may I serve you?"

John heaves a haggard sigh. Unbelievable, he groans, and attempts to turn his attention away for a brief, blissful second to collect what surely remained of his sanity.

The thing that called itself vanguard spoke incessantly. Within the caves, climbing out into rain-damp earth and sky, walking to find shelter for nightfall in the hopes of catching at least a few hours sleep - it had not stopped talking the entire way. John had half a mind to untangle Yorick from Arthur's belt when he wasn't paying attention and throw him as far as his eyes could see. He'd never liked the thought of the vanguard anyway, had never wanted Arthur to take the head, keep the tooth. Something about a creature which existed simultaneously in the Dreamlands, the Dark World and their own reality never sat well with him. 

A hypocritical perspective, possibly, considering. Yet that similarity alone made him nervous, straddling a razor's cautious edge. He knew what he was capable of. Yorick remained a mystery.

They'd found an oak tree, its canopy stretching out far enough to provide cover from the last stray rain clouds rolling by, so long as Arthur kept curled at its trunk. He had fallen under almost immediately. One or two words exchanged between him and that damned skull, and he was out, John's name half formed on his lips in what sounded like the start of a question. It would likely be forgotten upon waking. Already Yorick was taking time meant for him.

Regardless, John knew him to be valuable, an asset they couldn't afford to get rid of. Certainly not now, with nothing to their names except the clothes Arthur wore and the bag he carried, no money, no food. If Yorick could be a wealth of information like he claimed, they'd have to put up with him a while longer. 

And then John could toss him into a lake.

In the stretch of thankful silence, Yorick apparently finally listening to his demands, he reaches over and inspects what remained of the wound. Dried blood coated Arthur's wrinkled shirt close to his heart, stiffening the fabric. Laying his palm flat and hesitantly across his chest, John takes solace in the flighty pulse tangibly felt there. Not too long ago there was none at all.

Arthur murmurs something wordless under his touch. John retracts his hand quickly, mildly guilty at having potentially disturbed him.

“You dislike when he sleeps,” Yorick says. Despite his position by Arthur's hip, rolled sideways where he'd come to rest as they laid down on dry grass, his voice still seemed to come from somewhere else around them. 

John waits a second for more to follow. Nothing comes - it's a statement, not an inquiry.

I don't dislike him sleeping, he huffs. He has to rest, obviously.

“Yet it troubles you regardless? The absence of him.”

I don't, John sputters out, struggling to keep his voice level. I'm not… lonely if that's what you're suggesting. Will you just shut up already? We're both going to wake him up at this rate.

“Our master is blind to the world in multiple senses of the word,” says Yorick. “Deep within a dream. He will not wake for some time.”

How do you know he's dreaming? he asks, perplexed. You can't… see into his mind, or-

“I know a great many things.” Another beat of silence, decorated by the cricket song in the surrounding brush shielding them from view. Again John waits for an explanation, growling agitatedly when none is forthcoming.

Such as? he prompts. What is he dreaming about? 

“I do not know the specifics,” clacks Yorick. “Yet I'm aware of the turmoil of his thoughts. There is a string of piano keys tied like wire around his ankles, a bathtub overflowing, a yellow sun-”

Okay, I get the specifics! John mutters. So a nightmare, clearly.

“Precisely! Excellent conclusion, King John.”

He was starting to immediately regret accidentally adding John to that title. Is there a way we can help him, then?

As if on cue, subconsciously aware he was being discussed, Arthur lets out a low, pained breath of air. Instinctively John’s hand jolts to attention, fingers delicately skimming the wound like he would find answers or assistance there. His legs were twitching, again his arm reaching and then recoiling from something John couldn’t see or understand. 

Nightmares were the only times he felt useful, whenever Arthur slept. Lingering in the corners of his mind, stuck between drifting into his own thoughts and keeping an active listen for anything that might hurt them while he was out - it wore him down in ways be couldn't explain. Yorick was right, even though John would rather revisit the Dark World than admit it. He did hate when Arthur had to sleep for the emptiness it left him with. Being able to wake him from a bad dream as soon as he caught the signs left him aware of a strange, disjointed sense of selfish pleasure. Even if it came at the risk of Arthur’s unhappiness, helping him out of a nightmare was one thing he could do consistently right.

“He will not wake until the nightmare is complete,” Yorick says nonchalantly. “He is too deep.”

Which will take how long?

“I know a great many things,” he says for the second time. “Yet this, I do not.”

Another whimper, softer than the last. John taps the side of his head, tugs at his shirt collar, goes so far as to flick his nose multiple times in a row, as hard as he could manage. Nothing caused him to stir. He could slap him, sure, but in this state he might break apart altogether.

Great. John heaves a sigh. So we just have to listen to this, then? Until he’s, what, done dreaming?

“That is correct. We could always pass the time discussing, my King.”

Discussing what? He snorts. The maggots we just crawled through? No thanks.

“Or,” Yorick adds, “you could always return your hand to his chest.”

What? 

“Your hand,” he repeats, jaw clicking knowingly. “It is the one thing which calms the dreams. I’ve witnessed it many times before.”

You didn’t even have eyes, then, John says sardonically. What could you possibly have witnessed?

“I have no physical eyes now, but I can see you and the master. I was aware then, and in a way, I am aware now.”

In the shrouding blackness of Arthur’s slumber, John imagines the two points of white light where the prince’s eyes once rested staring sideways up at them, awash in tendrils of green smoke. Was this how Arthur felt all the time, kept in the dark, left to wonder how everyone was looking at him? 

Carefully, he puts his hand back in the center of Arthur’s chest. Fingers splay out, one wooden pinky, the rest a thin collection of bruises and scars and broken, chipped nails. That fidgety pulse returns, a bird’s caught wing under his palm. The rhythm remains so for nearly a minute, stuttering and jumping to some melody John couldn’t follow along, and he’s about ready to give it up for nonsensical, stupid advice before he hears Arthur sigh.

It’s not the same troubled exhale as before. This one comes calmer, more even-keeled. As he focuses on his heartbeat he notices it begins to slow, calming bit by bit into a steady, softer pattern. Arthur’s movements drift to a halt. He shifts among the roots, mumbling something too quiet to comprehend, and eventually falls silent.

“He sleeps much like the dead in appearance,” Yorick states thoughtfully. “I believe the dream has come to a close, for now.”

Good, remarks John, at a loss for anything else to say. He wasn’t going to tell Yorick thank you; but it was tempting. The gentle rise and fall of Arthur’s breathing is a placid current, subtler than the new rain beginning to break through the clouds overhead in the night. He could plainly picture him, sprawled out uncomfortably, breeze touseling sweat damp hair, a downward curve in a mouth which always seemed to be frowning lately. Protected just enough beneath the oak, protected enough beneath John’s palm.

Well, at least one of us is content.

“I am much content, King John.”

That makes a total of two. Can you please shut the hell up now? 

“If that is what you wish," the skull says amicably. "Then I will."

It is, John bites. Just thirty minutes of fucking silence. Please.

Yorick says nothing. Relief settles over him as the break distends. Minutes pass until he finally accepts his desire had been properly observed. Crickets sing around them once more.

Sleep well, he whispers, hand firmly over heart. Perhaps we can wait a little longer to get rid of him.

[nobodysdaydreams]

Doug and Hera need to have their own spin-off comedy space podcast/sudden therapy be a regular thing, because there's no other duo I'd rather see confront Cutter outside of his office documentary style with cameras and mics demanding an explanation for his many crimes🎙️

(Or my reaction to episodes 50-52 of Wolf359)

Welcome back dear readers! It's been a long day, and I know it's been a long time since I've reacted so I thought I'd sit down for a little Wolf359 this evening. Please enjoy!

Tagging the mutuals who got me invested in this, and if you want to be tagged or untagged from these posts, lmk, or you can follow my blog or simply follow the tag "#bods wolf359 reactions". Anyone who has followed me for a while knows my updates are inconsistent, so I apologize in advance for that and for any spelling/grammar mistakes in my posts.

@sophieswundergarten @oflightningandstars @acollectionofcuriousreblogs @herawell @commsroom

Episode 50: The Hiccups Method

I agree Minkowski. When will Kepler get it through his head?

👏 No. 👏 One. 👏 Cares. 👏 What. 👏 He. 👏 Thinks. 👏

With all of Jacobi's sarcasm, I think he and Doug would have been drinking buddies in another life where things were different.

Poor Lovelace. I can see why she doesn't want to take the risk. These aliens are interesting. They called out Kepler for his violence, but they themselves have been extremely violent and hostile. Do they genuinely not realize how fragile humans are? Do they think humans can regenerate like they can so they don't bother being careful? Are they just not used to being careful?

Oh right. Because Hera has been taken over before too. She knows what it's like.

Hera deserves her moment. I hope she gets it, whatever it looks like.

Maybe they could listen to the music. Maybe that will draw the aliens out. They did seem to enjoy the tunes. 🎶📻👽

I mean...the brain IS like a computer...but it's not exact. It's way more complicated. And a "part alien" brain? Let's see how this goes...

Ah the creepy background music. 🎶 That must mean it's working.

Eiffel! Oh dear. I guess Lovelace doesn't do well with creepy silence and breathing.

I know that sound. A treadmill. My old enemy. /j /treadmills are actually fine, it's the pacer that gets me.

Oh no this sounds terrible. I'd be out. Bods would not be a pretty sight. I'll spare you all the details.

Keep trying Eiffel, I believe in you!

And it's not your fault Lovelace. It's none of your faults.

Well except Kepler it is his fault for sure. And Jacobi.

Kepler's idea would probably involve chugging some whiskey.

Oh this is bad too. I should have figured. Kepler would have probably hoarded the whiskey for himself anyway. Not to drink, but just to enjoy the feel in his...well feet now I guess since he um...could use a hand right now.

The aliens did make Lovelace pretty indestructible... except for the one that killed itself that they heard about...oh maybe they can self-destruct.

As horrible as they were, it would be way more useful to have Maxwell or Hilbert around. I get why they had to die. If you have characters who can explain things, you lose the plot. But it would be strategic to trade Jacobi and Kepler for them.

Oh they don't sleep much? Interesting. What happens when she sleeps? Do they take the data from her brain?

Alien duplicates have a more complex brain stem? Interesting. A more complex life support and control system.

Norepinephrine. I struggled to pronounce it to Doug.

So that would mean she needs the opposite of alcohol.

DOUG WHAT IS THIS PLAN?

HERA CAN IMITATE THEIR VOICES? That's kind of cool. I hope she uses that later to trick Cutter and Pryce.

"Complete the process?"

Cliff notes? Key inside is outside? Enter in order to leave? Douglas must what?

Do they want them to fly into the star? Is that why they tried to drag them in before? Is that what the aliens mean by "Kalabunga"?

They know that doesn't work with humans right? They've seen human bodies, they know that can't work right? Are they trying to make more human clones? Why?

Good work, Doug. At least they know what the aliens want now. Sort of.

Episode 51: Shut Up and Listen

Sophie has really been hyping up this episode, so I'm excited to listen.

I love these intros. ✨Hera✨, Captain Isabelle Lovelace the Second, all the aliases for Hilbert 😂 "Boom-boom wow Jacobi" oh my gosh the Kepler one 😂

Professor D.F. Eiffel. What is his middle name? What is he a professor of?

The Hephaestus files! I love the intro theme. It's very drama. UF Overview is good too.

Again with the dramatic music. This is perfect. I love Doug and Hera together they're fantastic!

Please Minkowski being the mom. "You're not poisoning anyone on your radio show are you?"

Man, Doug is never living down this "you poisoned yourself" thing.

Oh right the radio signals. The ones that couldn't possibly from 8 years ago, because no radio station has ever played old music before. It’s not like we have whole stations dedicated to music from the 70’s and 80’s.

Why are we listening to Kepler's opinions on the aliens? They already made it clear they don't like violence. Kepler tried to get violent and they chopped his hands off and talked down to him. These aliens don't really even seem to talk normally. Do they even normally communicate with sound?

The lion speech actually makes sense. You don't know what "that's a nice scent there" means.

But Kepler. You are ASSUMING that you can't get where the dear listeners are technology wise without doing horrible things. And even if that is true, you are also assuming that's where you want to be. Why are these aliens taking such an interest in you? Maybe they're desperate. You literally just said you don’t know anything about how they work, and now you’re claiming to know everything. Whatever fits your worldview I guess.

"Finish the process quickly" sure sounds urgent to me.

As for Maxwell's language logs, maybe Hera can take a look.

I knew it! Hera can understand it.

Math is math. There we go! And binary gives you yes and no. Simple, but effective for answering questions.

I'm sorry Hera. I know Maxwell wasn't here for you, but she was there for a while. I'm sorry she didn't make a better choice. It’s sad to think that if they made better choices in another life, Maxwell and Jacobi might have actually been friends with these guys.

"How to listen. How much have we missed already?" That's a good metaphor for life too.

Not the Goddard Futuristics sponsorship 😂😂😂

"Do you want to do horrible things? Do you wish more of your time was taken up by conspiracy theories? Are you tired of just being evil on earth and want to be evil 🚀in space🛰️?" 😂😂😂

"Experiences no other human has ever gone through" right, but Lovelace is technically not totally human. (no offense. Biologically I mean).

"The Doug Eiffel charm" oh goodness

"What could possibly go wrong" DO NOT ASK THAT QUESTION DOUGLAS.

The wonderful record scratch and future Hera. 😂

"Fancy meeting you here...in the bridge...of a space station...the USS Hephaestus" I can just tell Doug ran a comb through his hair and threw on his best shirt for this. And that’s all you need. Max effort. Charm to 100% 😂

✨my casual stance😎✨

smooth Doug, very smooth

"I won't record you without your permission" 😂

I would not be surprised at all if Cutter and Pryce have listened to 100% of their journey. Microphones hidden everywhere.

"Don't pull others into your sinking boat" you're all in the same boat.

Wow. Lovelace is getting real here. "What would Isabelle Lovelace do?"

Lovelace you are YOU. ...Aw, she wants to feel like herself again. You can still be you Lovelace.

"That doesn't work. You know why?" oh because she's not her? Eiffel? Oh no.

Oh Hera. He was afraid of Hera? Windup girl? Hal9000 impressions? Doug, they weren't just jokes, and you know it. That's why you stopped.

"People are always going to be afraid of me, aren't they?"

Ouch.

And Doug did deserve that slap. It know jokes are how he copes, but poor Hera and Lovelace.

...yeah that DID happen. And I'd imagine Doug has been MIA. He's probably ashamed.

Doug, they know you're not a bad guy. We all make mistakes, but you need to apologize.

Doug is not the best listener or good at remembering or reading subtext. Me too buddy. It's okay. Dang they really called me out with this character and I don’t like this part. Can we go back to him being funny and a good friend and the only person brave enough to point out the obvious “killing people is wrong”?

Minkowski's speech about how hard it was to change her language and accent was a lot. I wonder what she thought about all those times Doug mocked Hilbert’s accent and Nationality? It also makes me wonder whether the aliens are doing the same with them. Not the mocking, but changing their speech. Are they just trying to communicate or do they want to create a certain impression?

But this is getting sad. Why does this feel like a forever goodbye? I don't like that. I don't like that at all.

"That's the thing about you Eiffel. You try. You really really try. And then you stop trying. Don't stop."

Let's see if he does.

I also love that Hera continued the podcast even though she got mad at Doug. She's so sweet. HAHA...The Hephaestus Files, nice. Hera deserves that.

I love the exit music 🎶🎶🎶

I feel like this episode might be a good metaphor for the aliens and communication. Doug didn't listen to what his coworkers were really saying. Maybe the aliens are the same way. Who knows.

Hm. I should go to bed now.

Eh...one more couldn't hurt.

Episode 52: Constructive Criticism

Oh Hera's trying to take care of him. It's okay Hera, he'll get over it, he just needs time.

Good thoughts Doug! You're listening! Why classical music? What's so special about that to them? Maybe they don't have a concept of sound or music! Maybe that's what they came for! You're doing it Doug! Good job!

The music is what they are sending. The point is why.

Be careful, Doug. She cares about you. Your friends care about you!

Oh Doug. RUN!

What would he do without Hera?

Did Lovelace gag him? Is this Kepler or Jacobi?

...why does Hilbert's lab have it's own pressure and air? To protect the experiments or give Hilbert a way out? Is there a way to detach the lab?

Also, it was only a matter of time. Cutter's errand boys kept chiming in when they weren't wanted. I'm surprised they weren't gagged sooner.

"The rules apply to Eiffel?" I suspect many rules were created specifically for or because of Eiffel.

A game? Not Funzo I hope.

Huh. Fortunately, Unfortunately sounds like a fun story telling game.

The story will tell you when to stop. Or you get bored. Or everyone dies.

Well not everyone I hope.

Oh Jacobi was that kid wasn’t he?

A WEEK? What happened to Doug? I knew he'd be upset after what happened, but yikes.

I knew it. The NPR special. Doug's punishing himself.

Looks like Kepler and Jacobi are getting on slightly better terms. Don't like that.

Hera. Hera no! HERA!

Oh right. She doesn't want to do a full reset of her personality. She doesn't want to delete herself even if she won't remember.

Don't ask Kepler for his games.

Oh now Jacobi is upset. I wonder what happened to him during the last round.

Wait, the you can only ask questions game! I love that game!

"Run away while you still can" no thanks Jacobi I'll play.

Kill him, Hera. Ask him about his Whiskey.

Now here's a good question. How did Jacobi end up here?

Oh right...Kepler's too proud to stop the game. This is perfect.

So Goddard did some good things. Wonderful. But you can't kill someone, show up in court, and cry "what about the millions I gave to the orphaned children?" YOU COULD HAVE STILL DONE THAT WITHOUT KILLING PEOPLE.

And good and bad DOES matter when you talk about progress, because it determines what you are progressing towards. FORWARD TOWARDS WHERE JACOBI? ASK YOURSELF WHY DOES THE WORLD WORK THAT WAY? DO YOU THINK THAT'S A GOOD THING? ASK DEEPER QUESTIONS YOU SIMPLETON!

"There aren't sides. There's people you do things to and people you do things for"

So Jacobi would kill them if given the opportunity. Tell me something I don't know. Pity he wasn't interested in the redemption arc. I was hoping somebody, ANYBODY would reach for it. The standard is low. The bar is on the floor.

Doug just wants to be helpful. Poor guy.

Yeah Doug, I know how this feels. It hurts. It's okay buddy. It's okay. They're still you're friends. You’re not worthless.

Oh his poor stomach.

And...Hera wins the game! Yay! 🥳

That's a lot of music. But again, why. Why do they need the music?

I'm beginning to like fortunately, unfortunately game. Let’s try it.

Fortunately, Jacobi had a come to Jesus moment and decided to stop blowing things up and stop threatening to kill people...oh dang it Jacobi!

Should have seen that coming.

[cycat-carisi]

All Those Things and More

I tried a thing! We don’t know an awful lot about Detective Vlassic Pickle Joe Velasco, but I peg him as this more stoic person who keeps a lot of things bottled up inside. That said, I also think he would be a supportive person to those he cares about. Hence this drabble thing...Tah-dah!

Summary: You arrive at your long-time friend Joe’s apartment a drunken mess and in need of some answers. Pairing: Joe Velasco x Reader Warnings: Alcohol and language Words: 872 AO3 here

"I just don't get it, Joe!" you exclaim, haphazardly waving around the open bottle of wine in your hand. "Why are all men the same? Why d-do they all want women who l-look like carbon copies of each other?!?"

The Joe you are referring to sits across from you on his apartment floor, both your backs rest against a sofa. You had shown up at his door at 9pm, already half way through a bottle of wine and of course he had let you in.

You see, Joe Velasco had been your best friend since college. You'd taken the same classes, worked together on projects and found a mutual detest for your shithead fathers. The two of you clicked, understood each other and were just mutually supportive. Even going so far as to help one another through the roughest and darkest times in your lives. You and Joe could be yourselves around each other and neither of you were strangers to late-night venting sessions like this one.

"T-tell me," you press on, "yourra dude. Tell me why men d-do that!"

Joe speaks to you calmingly. "Okay, Chiquita, you’re drunk. Back up a bit. I have no idea what you're talking about."

You give him a scrutinizing look. Maybe you had just burst through his door and plopped yourself on the floor without an explanation. "M-my bad," you begin taking another swig from the bottle. "So, remember that reeeeally hot guy I've b-been wanting to get the n-number of?" Joe quirks a dark eyebrow at you. "A-anyway, so I, umm, I was a-about to waltz riiiiight up to him today b-but before I could this supermodel shows up out of the fucking blue and l-latches herself onto him! H-he's like, 'hey baby'", you imitate a deep voice before bringing it up several octaves, "and she's like, 'Hey baby!' and - and then they walk off together!" You raise your free hand incredulously. "Can y-you believe it?!!"

"So…he has a girlfriend?" Joe treads carefully.

"Duh! B-but that's n-not the point, Joe!" you aim a finger at him. "The p-point is that all men want the same thing! All of them want these size z-zero, five-foot ten b-bombshells with perky little boobs and tight butts!" Joe opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off. "No! Shhh!" you slam a finger to your lips. "I've s-seen you on Tinder, pal. I've s-seen the hotties you s-swipe right on. Don't lie to me, Joe! All men want the s-same thing. I-I just wanna know why!"

Joe tries to speak again, but you're in your own little drunken haze and continue to ramble. "I'm s-smart and I'm f-funny and I'm fun, but ooooooh noooo, I got tummy rolls!" You lift the hem of your shirt exposing your stomach. "Lookit it!" you exclaim, tapping your tummy. "It jiggles and w-wiggles and I g-gotta try and hide it in my pants!" Releasing your shirt, you then hold up and arm and shake it. "N-now look at this! My arm j-jiggles too! And don't even get me s-started on my ass!"

Rant over, you finally turn an expectant gaze onto Joe across from you. As usual, the bastard's resolve doesn't crack. "You done?" he finally speaks, unlinking his crossed arms. You flash him an angry pout. "Look, it's true that I've swiped for women who fit the quote-unquote supermodel look, but really, Tinder is a stupid place to date. None of those women wanted anything more than a hookup. Maybe they're nice people, who knows, but nothing came of it for me." Joe holds your gaze, steady and cool as always. "As for that guy today, well, it's his loss. Sometimes people are superficial and are only attracted to what someone looks like, but in 20, 30 years when those looks fade, what's left?"

Joe's expression softens, those dark eyes holding yours and grounding you in reality. That fiery fury that raged inside of you earlier is quickly extinguished by one single look from your long-time friend.

"Listen, Chiquita," he continues when you don't interject. "Like you say, you are smart and you are funny and you are so much fun." A smile spreads across his face. "And any guy who can't see that doesn't deserve you, tummy rolls or no tummy rolls, okay?"

Your shoulders slouch, touched by his words. You feel as if you're about to cry. "W-why are you always so g-good to me?" you sob before setting aside the wine bottle and scooting across the floor to hug him.

Startled at first, Joe hesitates, but as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, he relaxes and envelopes you in a warm embrace. A moment passes before he whispers softly into your hair. "Because I think you're all those things and more, Chiquita. To me you are beautiful."

Joe's certain you can feel his heart thundering in his chest, yet he doesn't get a response from you. Instead, he hears a quiet snore sound off in his ear. He gently leans you forward to see you sound asleep. He chuckles to himself, giving off a sideways smirk before delicately transferring you his sofa. For now, his little admission would just have to wait.

Tag list! @teamsladsandgents​ @witches-unruly-heart​ @barbasbodaciousbeard​ @caracalwithchips​ @averyhotchner​ @one-sweet-gubler​ @anlin2058 @katieslotherford​ @misscharlielulu​ @pjkimrn​ (I know this isn’t a Sonny fic, so if you wanna be removed for other character fics, no worries! Just lemme know!)

[sunsents]

Empty - F.W (1/2)

Gah daym this was a JOURNEY to write. I swore to myself to never write angst because, well I suck at it. But here we are, I swear this has a good ending because my heart can't bear that. I could've written this much better, so I promise to bring my A GAME for chapter 2. Enjoy, also Lee in this is a hate crime. This is very story telling-esk so I hope it flows well.

I wouldn't have written this chapter without the help of my good friend @mochiixjimin she helped me edit and spice up this whole thing so thank you so much to her! She's an amazing writer, go check out her work and show her some big love right now or else!! her wattpad

Chapter 1 out of 2 (Backstory)

Summary —> Life has always been a cruel joke to you, yet you simply play along. Overshadowed by Eva Burke your whole life, watching from the sidelines while everyone flooded each other with love, it would always feel like a joke.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 6.1k

Warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST (with a fluffy ending in the second part) / One mature scene (18+) and then it's angst again <3 / Some slander / Offensive language

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

You were a bright child.

Beaming bright enough to keep a tight lipped smile during flu-shots, and enough to put on a happy façade when your dad threw away the drawing you had done of your family dog, rather than hang it up on the fridge.

Children have foolish dreams, and that was yours. Your friends in preschool boasted about their pictures being hung like trophies on fridges, with decorative magnets and even bigger pink bow ties.

The fridge in the Y/L/N manor was empty. Always empty, just how Ms. Y/L/N liked it. Empty marble floors with empty rug designs, and empty rooms with even emptier people living in it. They were both empty people. Hollow and void of any emotion, at least towards you.

You were different though. You were filled to the brim with ambition and hope and so many positive emotions that your parents never seemed to reflect on you. You were like those Disney princesses. The princesses always had hope, and when you have hope good things happen.

Right?

Your dad never meant to give you false hope. He just wished you’d keep your mouth shut as he worked until late hours. Using big words and having big aspirations, you shouldn’t have.

Mr and Mrs Y/L/N weren't bad people per say, just busy. They didn't know how to raise a child, this was obvious, because the purpose of even having a child was to fix their marriage. But a temporary fix wouldn't do it, it never did. There was always that hole on the roof, leaking rain of despair into their falsely built home that no bucket big enough could hold back. Because it always found a way to overflow.

They didn't know how to show their love, so they did it with money, clothes, toys and crayons that you would later use to draw pictures of your family, only to have them end up in the dumpster once again.

They spoiled you rotten, bought you gifts you never even dreamed of asking. You just shut up and enjoyed it, what else could you do? Whine and demand attention? Risk losing their favor? There was no favor to lose.

You got yourself a fat A plus on your third grade math test. Star stickers on your chest, you entered through the glass double doors of your house with a crooked smile - two front teeth missing of course - making your joy all the more endearing. Your backpack strapped tightly over your narrow shoulders, hanging low with all the crammed books you pushed before leaving school because you were just so excited to show your parents.

You received a big sloppy kiss from your Nanny, who practically was like a second mom to you, and dashed right into your fathers office to show him your new accomplishment.

"Good job, I'm proud of you."

You froze. You found a way to actually get their attention. The attention you so craved, the recognition you would die for. This was revolutionary. Basically a new era for you.

Nanny made you a star shaped cake that night, and sat with you while gently stroking your hair and listening to you blabber about how easy the math questions were. It felt warm, motherly love. Even if it was false, it would never compare to the love of your own mother, a love you would never get.

You spent all your night studying, your eyes burning under the harsh light of your lamp in the early mornings and your pencil, ebbing away over sheets and sheets of blank paper. Writing away your little hands off until they ached, just to snatch another A and get a good job.

This was good, it worked out very well. You became that student who looked forward to class, just to get a good grade and have the validation of your parents. The sight of your father’s lips quirk up even in the slightest, and how your mother’s eyes shone briefly in appreciation of your hard work, even if it was for a quick second, it was worth it.

Until the new neighbors moved in.

Mr. Burke was a round, cheerful man with an even rounder belly, and a big fat pipe that always hung on his lips. Mrs Burke looked and acted like those fairy godmothers you adored. You couldn’t believe such people existed. Mr Y/L/N invited them over for dinner, for courtesy. He was not happy about said courtesy.

He ended up liking the couple, they had a little daughter called Eva, who was small and adorable with round red cheeks and big doe eyes. Not only Mr and Mrs Burke, but the Y/L/N’s adored Eva as well. She was happy, always smiling, and her teeth weren't nearly as crooked as yours, not to mention she had pretty long hair like a princess.

You liked her a lot, took her to pick flowers, showed her the drawings you had prepared for the empty fridge; in case Mr Y/L/N ever had a change of heart and hung them up, you had been trying for three years and weren't giving up any sooner.

Eva was nice, kind enough to share her M&M's and very used to compliments unlike you. She seemed to get a lot from her parents and yours. The adults were so kind to her, always smothering her with love and kisses. You were happy for Eva, happy that Eva somehow managed to gain the favor of your parents before you did.

Little girls tended to be jealous, you weren’t. You were just glad to have a friend so cool, she didn't blush and stutter under praise and apparently her drawings were pretty enough to go on a fridge.

It was a Thursday afternoon when your mom smiled at you for the first time since your last exam grade. "Look, Eva drew us a picture, isn't it pretty?"

The crayola stash under your bed was no longer needed, they appeared clumsily dumped in the neighborhood trash the next day, most of them stomped under the pressure of your little sneakers. And the bundle of drawings you hid under your pillow, wishing on fairy godmother that one day they would be hung up too, were ripped; clearly a struggle given. You had paper cuts on your hands, and your Nanny thankfully applied ointment before Ms and Mr Y/L/N noticed, or rather, stopped to care.

Though you knew that even if you paraded herself with bloody fingers dripping to your elbows, they wouldn't care.

Nanny did, she was there. There when you were haunted with nightmares when the moon was particularly dark, cooing at you and letting you sleep next to her in that small bed of hers. There when you tripped and fell, small scratch resulting in a screaming tantrum. She was gentle, sweet, paid well.

You decided to go and pick flowers with Eva, and make a pretty flower crown for yourself, months after your drawing incident. Of course, you didn't have such silly dreams anymore. You didn’t wish to have your pictures hung, to have your mother wear the flower crowns you made and frankly you didn’t care for the sight of the sparkle in your parents eyes. Nanny’s was enough.

Eva agreed, dressed in a pink tutu Mrs Y/L/N gifted. You didn't comment, though deep down you gazed at the skirt in sparkling envy. Your mother never bothered to get you such pretty things. The two of you gathered saturated petals and nice ribbons while giggling amongst yourselves. Until, you accidentally caused Eva’s flowers to levitate.

Eva ran home, crying and calling you a witch. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N’s dirty looks made her feel shameful, and even dirtier when a letter addressed to her was dropped by a pretty owl you insisted on petting. It was from a school called Hogwarts, in the faraway land of London, and it seemed, not only you but Eva got the same letter the next day.

Though the Y/L/N’s and Burke’s were proud of Eva’s letter. They weren’t with yours.

— — — —

The ride to Hogwarts was interesting to say the least. You had so many questions unanswered, were you a fairy godmother too? Was that your destiny? Was that the reason you never got any attention, because you were destined to give instead of receive?

Eva was cheerful as always, making fast friends in newly bought uniforms and holding a pretty, long and thin wand, with designs flowing across the premise. Your wand was...functional. You were sad you couldn't choose, and that the wand chose the owner. It didn't make sense, what if you didn't want this wand? What if you wanted something charming like Eva’s? It should have been mutual.

It was while trying to find your way to the bathroom that you met the Weasley twins. Quite handsome, a year older and absolute fucktards. A word you learned from the two. Though you always found yourself laughing more at Fred’s jokes, you liked them both equally.

“Hey George! Look.” Fred had exclaimed, clinging onto his brothers shoulder and dragging him across. “Who's that girl?”

You introduced yourself, happy façade on, gentle words slipping out of your mouth like nectar. They had to like you, you told yourself. Just this once, more than Eva.

When sorted into Gryffindor, Eva, you and the twins became inseparable. Your group grew in second year, when Katie, Lee and Alicia Spinnet joined the bunch. You would make fun of the ghastly Potions Professor Snape, and imitate Dumbledore in the hallways to mess with the older students.

You loved your time at Hogwarts, and the adventures that came every year. Especially when Harry Potter joined.

“Hey Fred.”

Fred, who was fiddling with his bracelet you had bought him hummed in response, not bothering to look up.

You sighed, “Do you think the flowers can feel it when we pluck them?”

Fred turned at that, his bracelet was now tightly secure after his struggles. “I hope not.” he smiled, a faraway look on his face whenever he gazed at you. “You know, some people like pain.” he winked.

You merely looked at him confused, clearly way too young for...whatever that is.

He started laughing loudly, slapping his knee and causing you to scoff and slap him on the shoulder.

Third year was when it bloomed. The slight girly attention you gave Fred grew. Fred was...Fred. A handsome ginger, beater for their house's Quidditch team, always charming and charismatic that somehow oozed out of him whenever he did anything really. It was not unusual, every girl in school had a crush on him. That wasn't the case, Fred was one of your best friends, and you refused to entertain the idea of a possible...relationship.

Yet sometimes, you'd find yourself thinking about hugging and kissing Fred like you’d seen couples in your favorite movies did and you’d fall asleep with reddened cheeks and a boy with even redder hair in your mind.

But feelings couldn’t be controlled, nor easily hidden. Eva found out in your fourth year after hearing you mumble his name in your dreams. Fred Weasley was getting more handsome as years passed, and you found it hard to contain your feelings. You were crushing, hard.

Eva was...Eva about it. Happy, but nothing changed. She didn't tease like George did when he found out, nor did she act any differently towards Fred.

“Hey ____!” Fred had sat next to you, shaking the entire couch because he grew that tall during summer. “Got a new girl after me.” he looked at you, almost expectantly, as if you wouldn’t react the way you always reacted.

“That’s great Fred.” you smiled, gulping whatever lump that was forming in your throat and struggling to come out as vulgar words you wished to yell.

“Yeah,” Fred sighed, “It’s...great.”

Fred Weasley was a ladies man, and he wasn't afraid to show it. It was okay, because you were happy enough to be one of his closest, and that was enough. He often boasted about getting girls, and how successful his jokes were, and you always loved snapping back to him cockily, even more cockily than him. Playful banter was easy, comforting between them and when he turned away you would love to shyly entertain the idea of being one of those girl’s Fred talked about.

Fifth year, you had a sudden growth spurt. That was also the year where you discovered Cosmopolitan, Vogue and of course Witch Weekly. Hair no longer in a ponytail, legs shaved and smooth, short skirts with no nylons, you were a new person. After getting your period in third year, your spurt came late, but sudden. Way too sudden in the time of three months. It was hard to handle the changes occurring to your body. It was all too much that you had to become a lady and the fact that you didn’t have your mother to help was a pain you hid deep within.

It was as if whichever god above decided to squeeze your entire life into a summer and call it a day, because it was simply too busy. How ironic. No one saw your growth except old Nanny Gladys. Not Eva, nor her parents considering they went on a getaway and the Burke's, who had gone to Brazil.

But you were over that, you discovered the great telephone, and the great Hermione Granger, package deal with Ginny Weasley. You guys would talk on the phone for hours upon hours, Ginny obscuring your personality and Hermione altering your view on your parents. And Hermione was right, they were assholes. You didn't give a flying fuck about empty praises anymore.

You had become almost too tall for your older clothes, and your breasts were way too big to fit in the training bra you bought not even a month ago. Your hips, now wide and swaying as you walk became graceful, were decorated with long gem bracelets.

You cursed like a sailor that summer, ran around fields with family - your family being your dog, Jambo - bare feet. You stomped on flowers you used to pick as a little girl, stomping on those silly fairytale dreams you used to nurse, and never felt freer. For the first time ever you felt that maybe being empty could be more freeing than having false hope weighing you down.

Returning to Hogwarts was a big deal to students. Who changed, who glowed up after what happened last year - nothing, it was all childish drama.

Before your parents could even see your new self, your escapade to the Granger household was successful. The Y/L/N's didn't care, nor did they write. You knew it should’ve hurt, but frankly, you didn’t think having the pain in your chest was worth it. Hermione was awestruck, of course, after laying her sights on you for the first time since May and insisted on walking into the Entrance Hall, arm in arm with her and Ginny to show you off like some sort of revelation.

It was a revelation all right, at least to the boys, and some girls. It seemed no one saw you as a girl before. George oogled, and Lee was so shocked to find out that you were actually a girl with a pretty figure and an even prettier smile that he stopped clapping you on the back like he always did. Not a girl, you have become a woman. It was far too sudden, new uniforms and a whole new wardrobe had to be bought.

"____? You were a girl?" Fred joked, ruffling your hair like nothing changed between you. And that's when you realized, no slutty skirt, how much pushup your bra, or no matter how pretty your hair looked, Fred would always see you as ____, the girl with crooked front teeth and who once ate a worm in second year. Your teeth weren't crooked at all anymore - thanks to a few years of braces - and finally clear of uncomfortable metals but you felt as if Fred would always see the ghost of them on your pearly whites when you smiled.

He had this view of you that blinded him, caused him to treat you as he treated Ginny while he flirted and played footsie with other girls, including Eva.

That did not stop Eva from giving you false hope, and you took the bait, naive like always. Hope, that's what ruined it all. "You're beautiful now, of course you have a chance!" she said, rubbing your shoulder reassuringly, as if she had warmth to begin with.

It was all false, yet you still believed. You always had. Like a fool.

Ginny didn't like Eva, and maybe that's why you gravitated towards her. She was the first person who had ever met Eva that wasn't charmed by her kind smile and attractive words. Eva was...displeased. She grew up having the attention of everyone around, so when Ginny Weasley told her straight to her face that she wasn't shit, Eva seethed. The attention of Ginny changed nothing though, because Eva was the main character. Everyone - except Ginny, and secretly Hermione (though she would never say it) - loved her, they followed her around like puppies and praised her on her wonky wand work.

The upcoming Yule Ball brought great upswing to Hogwarts.

You were far too busy with her classes to take interest in the tournament - even though the dragon race was the gnarliest sight you had ever seen. Your goal was set, become a badass Auror and move out as soon as possible, so you didn't have to face your parents (except Holidays, yuck.)

But the Yule Ball was your chance. A chance with Fred Weasley.

You could ask to go as friends and maybe, just maybe a little hope and the night would end much more romantic than you had anticipated.

Plucking up courage was the hardest part, you practiced with your bathroom mirror so long that Ginny had to blast through the door and drag you out of her dormitory.

Fred Weasley agreed, why wouldn't he? You, his closest friend, asking to go as a group and drink all night while gossiping? It was a win win. At least that's what you told herself.

That was a lie, it wasn't a win win.

You gave it your all getting ready, dress silk, makeup and expensive shoes. You took a long shower, scrubbing and shaving yourself to a smooth gliding porcelain, only for it all to be washed down with reddened eyes and a boy with even redder hair.

Fred greeted you the same, danced the same, and you chatted the same; you were reminded again, for the second time, that you stood no chance.

Fred told you that he was going to get drinks, a quick trip to the booth and mumbled I'll be back in a second. He was not back in a second. Several minutes passed, and your worries caused your feet to follow after Fred's footsteps.

You ran, trying to find him in the empty corridors of Hogwarts, tears welling in your eyes because he wouldn't. He wasn't that cruel, life wasn't that cruel.

But it was, and in a distant empty classroom you saw Fred Weasley, on his knees and between Eva's legs, groaning and praising her like a starved man. Worshipping her like everyone else had, burying himself in her and completely forgetting the drink he’d bring back in just a second. He’d left you thirsty and alone in the Great Hall and left you to drink from a cup he hadn’t known to be forbidden. Yet Eva did.

Eva's perfect dainty hands tangled in his ginger hair, thighs clamping shut while her high pitched moans flooded your mind and echoed around your head. They were so loud that she couldn’t even hear the loud echoes of your footsteps and the woeful cries that left your lips as you ran. It wouldn’t be the first time she had ignored your pain for her own selfish reasons.

Your heart shattered, and suddenly you were six again, watching your parents praise Eva, hang her drawing on the fridge. A soft breeze tickling your bare toes, dangling from the small cushioned seat you sat on while you watched Eva braid Mrs Y/L/N’s hair. Emotionless, silent, not asking for anything, knowing that you won't receive in return. Eva's small hands carefully placed the flower crown on Mrs Y/L/N’s pool of hair, and she smiled, heart warming and hopeful. Suddenly you remembered the feel of your own hands tangling in between your locks as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to imitate your mothers braid on yourself in the mirror you couldn't reach. You pretended, only for a moment before it twisted into knots.

What a cruel joke, you thought as you watched Eva receive the world from Fred, from your parents, from your friends and from every damn person you had met.

You cried on a big set of stairs that night, your wails echoing as you asked whoever, whatever what you had done. What you had done to deserve such treatment from the people around you. It was rather cliche - and maybe a bit too dramatic. It was an uncomfortable seat of course, and your body, as well as your heart, ached. Pain, misery, false hope and enough hair spray to melt the ozone.

The princesses always cried on big sets of stairs, uncomfortable stone floors causing them to shiver while they hid away their beautifully animated faces in their perfect hands. This was different, there was no fairy godmother to fix your makeup and clone a gentlemanly Fred Weasley, a perfect prince. You knew, because you cried, and prayed and cried and prayed until your throat was sore. There was no fairy godmother, it was all a lie. There was no happy ending. There would be none.

No one came to find you that night either, and you had to drag yourself back to the Gryffindor common room, feet bare, mascara, blush - anything else you put on in hopes of being able to become like Eva even only for one night - practically nonexistent from the way your tears washed them away.

You didn't sleep that night, and your head was unusually clear, pounding, but clear. You laid awake, eyes blood-shot and stinging while your dress shuffled uncomfortably between your sheets. You were too tired to change, and your dress was far too pretty to be worn so short.

Ginny's words replayed over and over again. "They're not worth it." her voice was so clear, and true. Mr and Mrs Burke weren't worth it. Your parents weren't worth it. Fred Weasley wasn't worth it. Eva wasn't worth it. The midnight chirping of bugs invited themselves in from your open window, and blue moonlight streaks beaming down in lines from the tulle curtain flowed with breeze, it was calming.

You felt calm, for the first time in sixteen years. You felt calm.

Fred and Eva started dating that week. Everyone acted like they expected it, and you realized just how blind you had been. Eva Burke and Fred Weasley, golden couple of Hogwarts.

You watched them, emotionless, as they embraced with love and so much passion that you felt embarrassed. Embarrassed at how you’d blushed and squeal over Fred in front of Eva and George and anyone who had found out because now you knew. Now you knew that their amused smiles were probably pitying grimaces because they knew that you two were never meant to be. It was always Fred and Eva.

Fred was an amazing boyfriend, making sure Eva was taken care of, lovingly staring at her whenever and wherever, arm looped around her waist at all times; you realized they were truly not worth it.

"You disgust me."

You didn't mean the words to escape so carelessly, but when you said them, you realized you didn't want to take them back. The growing pit in your stomach felt weightless. "Excuse me?" said Fred, stopping his nibbling on Eva's neck, who was just as shocked. You scoffed, Eva already had enough purple bruises to parade around so why did Fred have the need to add more?

"You heard me right," George, Lee, Ron, Harry, Katie and whoever sitting in their circle stared at you, wide-eyed, Ginny and Hermione, however, were grinning devilishly. Kind ____, wouldn't hurt a fly, quiet at times and didn't know how to stand up for herself. It was shocking, but you were done pretending. You didn't want to be like that anymore, you wanted to say whatever came to mind and not worry about the consequences. "You guys disgust me, I know I should be supportive but you don't match, at all."

You turned to George. "And you, no you can't talk about Katie like that." George went pink. "You're disgusting for sleeping around carelessly and telling girls you'd write, stop giving people false hope. Grow up. You’re nearly an adult and you can’t even treat a girl right."

"And you Lee," Lee went quiet. "What gives you the right to make fun of me like that. I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, just because you don't have the courage to wear a headband. If you can talk about my breasts, I'll talk about your shrimp."

"Ron, you take advantage of Hermione then lead her on. Open your eyes, asshole."

"Harry, you're not the main character. You're not always going to be the center of attention, nor do you have the right to yell at your friends."

"Alicia, god you're so stupid. I'm sorry, you're great but such an airhead. No, you can't ride a Thestral if you can't see them, and stop eating quill ink they're bad for you."

You stood up, grinning proudly, heart loud in your chest you feared someone might hear. "Frankly, I don't wanna be friends anymore. I'm done with this façade, except you two, 'Gin, Hermione. The rest of you are just so fake." she gestured to them. "Boys," she nodded again. "Don't talk to me anymore, and Lee, give me back the money, think it's about time don't you think? I've been paying for you since third year."

And with that, you left. You left Three Broomsticks, grin wide and chest heaving. Hermione and Ginny ran behind, whooping and cheering you on as they laughed.

The news of your outburst spread fast like wildfire caught in wind. That week was bliss, you no longer had to watch Fred and Eva, nor did you have to act sweet to anyone. You didn't have to laugh along Lee's sexist jokes and look away to wince, it was pure bliss. You realized that the feeling of being free didn’t have to be momentary.

Pansy Parkinson was surprisingly a good friend, she didn't have the same fakeness to her, the one Eva had where her smile was too kind. She spoke her mind, though every Slytherin did, and you liked that. Ginny wasn't happy with your new found friends, but she couldn't separate you. You made your own decisions from now on. It was refreshing.

You told your new friends everything, eager to get it off your chest and breathe, and they listened. For the first time, someone listened. You didn't have to get good grades, nor did you have to act like a sweet angel.

You teared up the first time Pansy said; "It's not your fault,". You knew it wasn't your fault, but hearing someone else say it with such genuine eyes made you believe. Actually believe.

It started off with you watching from the sidelines as Draco and Blaise pranked, insulted and shamed whatever your old friend group did. It wasn't unusual for Draco to act this way, but he got especially irritated after hearing what you told them. Blaise, someone usually quiet, had stepped up and decided to somehow release the pent up anger he had for the Gryffindor students.

The year ended, and you had started to sneak in an insult or two towards Fred and Eva. It felt nice, like finally, step by step you were clearing your years of hidden jealousy. But, there was no one to tell you that this simply wasn't the right way.

That summer, you stayed at the Burrow. Ginny had invited you and you were quick to say yes; obviously a fact forgotten. Fred, George and whoever you had insulted last year stayed in the same house. You simply didn't want to go home, and if this meant seeing Fred Weasley then you had to endure it.

Molly Weasley was the sweetest person you could ever meet, and it was genuine. It felt genuine, you feared your teeth might rot if the woman got another word in. Molly greeted you as if you were her own daughter she hadn't seen in years. You felt valued, seen.

Until Eva was there, Fred invited her. You had to watch the only person you were able to love, introduce the only person he was able to love to his mother. It wasn't you. It would never be you.

And you realized, even after everything, Eva had once again found a way to be more loved than you.

The grin Molly broke out was nothing short of beautiful, and you couldn't help but smile as well. The smile wasn't directed towards you of course, and you sat on that small kitchen chair, celebrating a relationship that caused your ruin.

Eva didn't care that your friendship was over, nothing budged in her life. She still got the same attention, still received the same love from Fred. The same affection, the same attention and the same everything. Or so it seemed.

Though unlike Eva, Fred merely watched you with sad eyes.

You stayed clear of the couple and the rest. You hung out with Ginny and Hermione only, ignoring the dirty looks Ron and Harry gave you. The secret, whispered insults Eva threw your way. George didn't say anything, but he didn't object either. This was enough to show how he felt. At this point you really didn't care. Why would you, when they didn’t either?

You held your head high just like Ginny and Hermione told you to, and you spoke in a loud and clear tone whenever asked something. Eva didn't, she stuttered when you spoke to her directly. Her words scrambled against each other when she tried to voice her insults in louder statements than a whisper. For the first time, you felt relief. You felt intimidating, protected by the barriers you had built around yourself.

Longest day of summer hit, and it boiled. Tanning became a distant dream, you would bake in this weather, and you were thankful to the big AC box you had brought from home. You couldn't sleep that night, sweat beads falling down your forehead that was already covered in a thin sheen. You had decided to get a cold glass of water, not sure how you ended up face to face with Fred Weasley. His wand tip shone with blue light, and his freckles were much darker because of the sun. It seemed the sun decided to be cruel to Fred Weasley back and wash Fred over with it's deathly heat. He was sunburnt, this was an understatement. He was burnt.

You couldn't help but start laughing when you met, ignoring the proximity, ignoring the sleeping house, dead silent and a big leap from the lively Burrow, ignoring Fred's soft breaths he let out every other second. You couldn't live off on false hope anymore.

Suddenly it wasn't so funny anymore, and your face quickly fell. You took a big step back and inhaled, ready to ignore him like you had been doing for the past year. But Fred Weasley was a persistent man, and he gripped your arm and looked at you with determined, doe-like eyes. "Tell me what I did wrong." he said, adamant on fixing this, whatever this was. You both didn't know.

You stood silent.

"Please flower,"

"Don't call me that." you said, stern and gaze sharp. Fred didn't react, he kept on insisting.

"Please, tell me how to fix this. I can fix it," he pleaded, a plethora of empty promises fell out of his lips like nothing. He lied like it was nothing, he was oblivious to everything he and everyone around them had put you through. It was infuriating.

You didn't say anything. You knew he would not fix anything but maybe staying silent would give him the false hope that spinned mockingly in your head for the past eighteen years.

"I'm sorry, just please. I can fix this, I promise, don't be like that." empty tears fell down from his eyes. He looked empty, tired. They lacked the charm they usually shined with and you wondered if it was only you that caused such dullness. Eye bags prominent that you never noticed before. It all felt like a lie, a cruel joke.

Fred Weasley was simply a cruel joke. His presence could only be compared to a shot of whiskey, especially when you down it like how Hagrid nurses a Firewhiskey filled pint glass. You never know how it will hit you. But in the end, you'd always find yourself curled next to the toilet, crying your eyes out because your headache was simply too much.

He was sobbing now, hanging onto your waist like you would simply vanish and you let him. The grip he had on was like steel vice - almost concerning - but you didn't touch him, didn't say anything. You just let him be, like he did to you. Allowed him to hopelessly hang off you before you would eventually leave him alone, like he did to you. "Where did I go wrong? How could we end up like this? What went wrong?"

‘You’, but your voice couldn’t be found.

Questions were useless when the answer was already right in front of his eyes. You didn’t let a single tear fall, you wouldn't forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

You blinked, and that night was over. Summer continued on like nothing happened, like it didn't leave you heart broken and in such shame yet again. You continued on ignoring Fred as he looked at you with sorrowful eyes. Looked at you more, with more than he did his own girlfriend.

You blinked and the school year started again with another terror looming around the corner. There was simply no need to keep up anymore, because school was easy. You attended classes, got good grades, a few scar here and there from Umbridge's torture chamber, a woman who stood at a whopping five foot three yet still teriffied an entire school.

You blinked and you had already become a proud member of Draco's insult the Gryffindor's club. You didn't even feel bad, being horrible to the people you hated for years felt like a breath of fresh air. You didn't go as far as physically hurting any of your old friends, but coming up with damaging insults was such fun. A lot more fun than sitting around with a fake smile.

You blinked, and you were already moving out from your childhood house. Mr and Mrs Y/L/N were unusually happy, this was a given. They would have a new empty room and make another office, like they didn't have enough already. You feared they would start getting rid of bathrooms once too into their work, and they would have to do their business in bushes or buckets. Scratch that, you didn't fear that, it would be fucking hilarious.

You blinked, and when had time passed too quickly? Where did all those empty childhood years had gone? You were already graduating, on your way to become an Auror. You had lost contact with all your old friends now, regretfully Ginny and Hermione too.

The war had hit too quickly, luckily you survived, so did your friends. Unluckily, it left you with a nasty scar right across your left brow. It looked sick, but the hit wasn't worth it. It hurt like a bitch. You could see, it was a close call but vision wasn't an issue. The trauma though, god did Bellatrix's breath smell bad.

When it was all over, you had seen Fred hugging his family tightly. It seemed the Weasley's all survived, and you gave them each tight lipped smiles while holding a bunched up rag to your head to stop the blood gushing out. This wasn't the reunion you wanted to have with Ginny, but hey, you take what you can get after a revolutionary Wizarding war you barely made out alive.

Before a franticly running Fred could reach you though, you apparated to your flat in Diagon Alley, ignoring the thrumming of your heart, and how you practiced in front of a mirror to congratulate their successful joke shop that morning.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I'm sorry but i'm addicted to our boy Spamton- I have a little unique request here. So this takes place where Spamton just moves in the Queen's mansion, he meets the reader and immediately falls for their kind words and gestures. Weeks pass, and he goes to see them, but catches them talking and hanging out with Swatch.. He gets really jealous to the point of changing his style to match Swatch's

"Oh [y/n]! Have You Met Our Newest Guest?"

"Uh, I don't believe-"

"He's An Interesting Addison Who Made A Big Name For Himself! Ohohoho!" Queen laughed joyously, pausing to sip her glass of battery acid. "I Wonder How He Got So Rich...No Matter. As My Peon, I Order You Greet Him......Whenever It's Convenient For You."

"Sure thing. I'll go now." With a respectful nod, you set off to the mansion's guest chambers to meet this newcomer. You've lived here for a long time--and somewhat reluctantly since Queen decided to make you one of her peons one day. But life was actually pretty good.

It wasn't like you had anything better to do, so if she needed someone to help her with plans that..didn't seem all-that urgent, you'll offer your assistance. She let you stay in the mansion for free and never made you do anything if you weren't feeling up to it.

For a tyrannical ruler she was rather kind.

Yet you didn't wanna take advantage of her hospitality, so you'd just listen to whatever she says. And if she wants you to meet this celebrity as part of her endless lists of requests, then you'll happily oblige. But you were eager too since you've seen his face on TV a lot. It felt like an honor.

After wandering the corridors of deactivated puzzles, Mona Lisa-esque portraits, and meticulously-placed pottery, you finally arrived at the guest rooms. You hummed a small tune as you passed by each one, stopping when you noticed one door was open.

Peeking inside, you saw the Addison still setting up things. A phone was tucked between his shoulder and ear as he moved a box whilst rambling to whoever was on the other end of the line.

"Yea! I promise I won't let you down, okay? Soon I'll be bigger than ever before! I know I'm already a big shot but....haha, yeah, I shouldn't get carried away. Okay. Right..we'll discuss more of this tomorrow. Thanks!"

After hanging up the phone and returning it to the receiver, he finally noticed you and smiled. "Hey, hey! Haven't seen your face around here yet. But surely you know mine, right?"

"Yeah." You smiled, not wanting to shy away from talking with him. "Spamton, right?"

"Everybody's favorite number-one rated salesman!!" He laughed. "It's good you know me..'cuz soon ALL of Cyber World will know my name! It's a pleasure to meet you...?"

"[Y/n]. I'm one of Queen's peons." You shook his hand politely. The energy that radiated from him was so bright. Just as much as his pearly smile was.

Stepping inside, you glanced around at the luxurious furniture. He definitely got the higher-class rooms, with the addition of a large window that showed the neon green meridians that stretched across the night sky. It was certainly a beautiful view to fall asleep to. "Need help unpacking?"

"Oh--sure!!" At first Spamton seemed surprised by your offer, but he nodded. "If you want, be my guest. And while we unpack, I gotta ask you..how's it being Queen's peon?"

............

Weeks passed, and you've gotten to know Spamton more and more. You realized he was actually a sweet down-to-earth guy all around. Although he was on the phone a lot, he'd make time to hang out with you, so you two became fast friends.

He was truly living the best life. Posters of his car advertisements were littered all over the city, and the Swatchlings attended to his every need. Though one thing was hard to admit, even when it seemed like he had it all:

You were his only friend now that everyone else is intimidated by his status--as they would shy away from conversing with him--and the Addisons, well, abandoned him out of jealousy.

Obviously that made him worry about driving you away, especially when he's on the phone nonstop. But...the fact you've been so kind to him in every word and gesture, treating him like a regular person and not some untouchable celebrity, was quite endearing. Most admired him for his products, not his personality.

Your kindness made him fall for you hard and fast, ever since day one. He wasn't sure if this was a good idea; to let it get in the way of his business.

But what the hell? He was a big shot! He can afford to go a bit bigger and take more risks. Living in this mansion with someone who loved him would be the perfect dream.

There was a much bigger dream that his valued caller insisted he focused on, but that can come later.

So this morning, Spamton set out to find you to address these feelings once and for all. Yet he was rather nervous. Addisons were most confident in selling products, not so much...everything else. But he didn't wanna back down. He kept smiling no matter what.

As he checked inside the color café that he usually frequented, he saw you eating at the table. He noticed you weren't alone but with Swatch, talking and...

Laughing with them?

And just like that, his smile faded much like his hope.

Of course, the head butler had their ways to swoon people. He tried not to think of it as anything more than just their personality. It's just their way to entice returning customers.

That's all...right?

Spamton ducked behind one of the displays, listening in on your conversation to determine if he should proceed or not.

"By the way, we've known each other for a while and..I've always wanted to ask you something.."

"Yes? What is your inquiry?"

He held his breath. This is exactly what he feared. Knowing that you've been here longer, it's obvious you'd be closer to that damn bird-

"Your outfit."

Then he exhaled shakily, relieved. 'What are you getting so worked up for, idiot?' He thought in the back of his mind, but he continued eavesdropping.

"Did the Queen make it or give it to you? It's very stylish and really makes you stand out from the other Swatchlings."

"Ah, in fact I decided this look for myself." Swatch chuckled softly, raising a wing to adjust their glasses. "The tailor did marvelous work with my vision: black suit, tinted glasses. Very fashionable, is it not?"

"It is. I like it a lot."

"Why thank you. I see why our Lady Grace admires you. Just for that compliment, I'll give you a discount on any of our products in the gift shop."

"Should be every day if you ask me." You joked, earning another chuckle from them.

Seeing all of this and the way you two spoke like close friends was a jab in Spamton's heart-shaped object. 'So [y/n] likes people who stand out? Well I can stand out, too..' He thought bitterly as he stormed out of the shop without either of you knowing he was there.

Why should he settle with being a blank-slate Addison like the rest of them? He didn't consider himself one anymore.

Today, he told his valued caller, he was gonna be a whole new person.

It would help him get closer to both of his dreams, but there was only one on his mind now.

............

Later that night as you were getting ready for bed, you heard a knock at the door. You huffed in annoyance, assuming Queen needed you for something.

She had a knack for disturbing you at ungodly hours. But knowing better than to ignore her, you went to answer the door anyways-

To some strange black-haired guy in a black suit and white turtleneck sweater.

"Hi, um...can I help you?"

"[Y/n]? It's me."

"....wait....Spamton?"

"Yeah!" The salesman laughed, throwing his arms out and making a pose. "Whatdya think of me now?"

Perplexed, you looked him up and down. He ditched the lime-green pants, instead wearing white trousers. And his hair was slicked back. But what was most peculiar about him were his glasses, tinted with pink and yellow lenses.

Had you not known any better, you would've thought Swatch suddenly shrunk and became robotized.

"Cool but..you kinda look like Swatch a little bit. Was that on purpose?" You mused.

"...haha....yeah uh..funny story. Um.." He dropped the act, losing his trademark grin as he wondered how to explain himself and this sudden transformation. You could tell he wanted to talk inside the room, so you let him in and shut the door.

"I don't recall Queen mentioning any costume contest-"

"It's not a costume." He muttered, uncomfortably rubbing his hands together as he looked at you with sadness. "This is who I am now. The new me."

"..huh? You serious?" When he nodded, you frowned slightly. "I'm confused. You don't look like an Addison anymore-"

"That's the point...! I...I don't wanna be associated with them anymore. I decided to stand out, y'know? If you're gonna be a big shot, ya gotta stand out from the crowd!" He forced a laugh that sounded rather glitchy.

You didn't buy it. It wasn't like him to do this out of the blue.

"Spamton, why imitate Swatch of all people? And why out of the blue like this? I mean..I don't mind if you like their style. But I didn't even recognize you until you spoke."

Try as he might, he couldn't make any better excuses. So seeing that he was cornered made him finally admit his jealousy, overhearing your conversation with Swatch while he was browsing--when he really wasn't, but he didn't wanna come off as creepy.

His voice glitched further due to stress, accidentally blurting out some kind of...flirtatious term as he explained how much you meant to him since day one.

You weren't sure if he meant to say "hot single" on purpose. Though you were flattered that such a famous guy like him...actually had a crush on you, an ordinary Darkner who just fetched the Queen's stick wherever she threw it.

You found it hard to believe he thought of you that way..so you kept your own feelings buried. So to see that it's mutual was a relief, and it made you smile.

Spamton, on the other hand, was stressing the hell out. So much so he didn't even see your smile. He just saw himself being stupid the more he rambled on.

It was such a stupid, stupid reason to get insecure--to the point of changing his entire appearance without warning. All because you were friends with a butler who was doing their job???

How selfish can he get when he already had everything he wanted and more?

When he did acknowledge your small smile, he thought you were holding yourself back from laughing. But you had every right to laugh and call him a joke for thinking this will get your attention.

As he finished talking, he could see your smile fade and huffed. He waited for you to tell him how stupid he looks and to go back to being the plain old Addison you met.

Instead of ridiculing him you...hugged him?

At this point you were sitting on the bed together. Of course yours wasn't as massive as his was, but it was big enough for you two to share.

"Spammy, I'm flattered you like me in that way but...you didn't have to do all of this to get my attention. I promise there's nothing going on between Swatch and I. We're just friends. They're not replacing you or anything."

"I know, it's just.." Taking off the glasses, he set them aside before hugging you tightly, head buried in your chest. "I don't wanna lose the only person in this damn place who makes me feel like myself. Who loves me for me, not my success. And...I-I felt like I had to change something about myself to make sure of that."

"Well..you don't need to change anymore. I love you no matter what you look like."

He blinked, his face turning as red as his cheeks.

You could sense his embarrassment from the way he tensed up in your arms and chuckled, patting his hair softly. "Just..don't feel pressured to change for me..or anybody for that matter, okay? Or at least let me know if you're gonna change things up again."

"You don't think..I look stupid or creepy like this?"

"No. Honestly you look pretty handsome. Black hair suits you well."

Hearing those words made him breathe a small sigh of relief. He nodded and hugged you tighter.

His new looks were staying for good.

[fangirling-is-my-passion]

🎃 Halloween Special 🎃 (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

Warnings: none, according to me

Summary: It’s your fifth year at Hogwarts and you decide to change things up a little bit by making a mix between muggle and magical traditions in Halloween.

A/N: Hellooooo, lovelies! I know it's been ages since the last time I posted any of my writings, but I got this idea the other day and I just couldn't let it die in my drafts. It's my first time writing for Draco, so if there's any mistake or stuff way too out of character, please, have mercy on me... 😔🙏 I love you and I really hope you enjoy it! Happy Halloween! :) <3

October was finally coming to its end and Halloween was just around the corner, so everybody's excitement was palpable. The Halloween celebration at Hogwarts was one of the most expected by the students and you were definitely not the exception, nonetheless, after already four years of spending the holiday the wizard style, you were kind of starting to miss the muggle celebrations you were so used to when you were only a child.

You missed the costumes so much. Everything was really cool, but why didn't wizards dress up for Halloween? I mean, can you imagine the possibilities?

And so your idea was born: A Halloween celebration in Hogsmeade with your friends and anybody else who wanted to join, but with costumes, like muggles did. It was going to be a little bit of a mix between the two worlds. And it was going to be fantastic.

"Guys, guys, guys, guys, guys!" you said excitedly on Monday morning, sitting at the Gryffindor table in a rush, "I was thinking, why don't we throw a costume party in Hogsmeade the night of Halloween? It could even be at the Three Broomsticks, if we ask for permission, of course, I gotta check that, but, a costume party! What do you think?"

"You mean like the muggle tradition?" asked Hermione.

"Yes! Exactly! I actually don't quite understand why wizards don't dress up for Halloween, but whatever. I think this would be great!"

"Of course, sounds amazing, (Y/N)! But we gotta plan it very well, so I'll help you with the organisation," said Hermione with a lopsided smile.

"Well, sounds like fun, so count me in," said Ron, "By the way, (Y/N), can you pass me the sausages, please?"

"Sure, there you go..."

"I'm definitely in too. It would be my first time dressing up for Halloween, so I wouldn't miss it for the world," Harry added, "Dudley was the one who went trick-or-treating every year; meanwhile I stayed at home, either inside the cupboard or doing whatever chores my aunt could come up with."

"Blimey, Harry, that sucks..." Ron commented before placing another sausage on his plate, which was already brimming with food. Harry simply shrugged.

"Erm, well, great then! I think..." you paused for a second and then added," Let's tell everybody else!"

"Who are you planning to invite?" Hermione questioned; she was definitely taking this organisation thing very seriously.

"I was thinking of simply spreading the word, so anybody who wants to can join."

"Oh, all right. That sounds fine," she said, although she didn't sound entirely convinced.

"Are you going to invite your boyfriend then?" Ron inquired with a sly look on his face.

"Oh, he's not my boyfriend! We're just... acquaintances... who hated each other in the past... but not anymore..."

He referred to no other than Draco Malfoy, the so called Slytherin Prince. At the very beginning of your Hogwarts days, you honestly couldn't stand each other, with all his arrogance and his superiority complex, however, at some point and for some strange and unknown reason to you, he stopped being an utter arsehole, your mutual teasing became more of an inside joke than actual bullying and you kinda started getting along. At least you were able to be in the same room without trying to hex one another.

"Yeaaah, of course, and who also study together in the library..." Ron continued.

"That happened one time!" you exclaimed, a flush creeping across your cheeks, "Or was it twice?"

"Twice" Harry and Ron answered in unison.

"Actually," Hermione interrupted, "it happened three times if we count the one where they had to work on the potions project together."

"But that does not count! It was a project! We had to!"

"Mmmmm, it counts because you chose to work together" she explained, a sly tone in her voice.

"That was just because he's the only Slytherin I've had an actual, relatively decent interaction with... Seriously, Hermione? That's not even the point here, guys, let's focus. And yes," you said making emphasis en the 'yes', "I am going to invite him, 'cause, why not? He's probably going to instantly reject the idea anyways, you know how he is." You crossed your arms over the table and took a deep breath.

"Wow", said Ron, "I can't believe you actually said all that without pausing to breathe. However," he said emphasising that last word," I'm telling you, (Y/N), you're gonna end up together. But if you're so sure of the contrary, let's make a bet."

"What?"

"Yes, whoever loses will have to do the winner's homework for a week." Ron smirked.

"A week! Are you nuts?" you exclaimed.

"Well, you have nothing to worry about... Unless you do think you're gonna end up being Malfoy's girlfriend..." His smirk widened and your cheeks went a little pinker than they already were.

"All right, fine. It's settled then. I only hope you're ready to do all my homework for a week, Ronald Weasley."

"We'll see about that."

After a busy and tiring week trying to plan an amazing Halloween party at the same time as doing all your class work, Saturday had finally arrived and everybody was filled with excitement. The news of your party had spread like wildfire and soon you and Hermione had to recalculate the supplies you'd need in order to have enough for every single person who wanted to drop by.

Also, you'd indeed told Draco about the party, nonetheless, just as you thought it would be, he didn't seem very excited about the whole idea... Well, yeah, he might have implied that he would never in his right mind attend a muggle celebration like that and that you were nuts to think of the possibility, however!, he didn't really, explicitly say no, so you'd taken his response as a maybe and still hoped he'd go for at least a little while (wait, why were you hoping that? It's not like you cared that much about him attending or not... Right?)

Since you'd been very busy with all the planning, you'd started working on your costume a little bit late, but you were very satisfied with the result: you were going to be Medusa. I mean, she's iconic! Being able to turn people into stone if they look you in the eye? Wicked! (At some point Harry made a joke comparing Medusa to a basilisk, and I mean, sure, but to be honest he really had to work on his humour). You'd even enchanted a diadem with snakes so they moved like they were alive! (Because, come on, you were committed to this holiday, but let's be sensible, you weren't going to wear actual snakes on your hair, there are levels).

The point is that, like everyone else, you were incredibly excited about your party. And also a bit nervous, you didn't want to screw something up, but you also knew not everything could be perfect and what mattered most was that everybody had fun.

"(Y/N)! Are you ready? We gotta get going!" Hermione called from outside the bathroom of your dormitory. You opened the door and stepped out, ready to rock and roll.

"So? How do I look?" you asked, twirling so she could take a look of your whole costume.

"Intimidatingly gorgeous."

"Oww! Thank you! Wait," you said now focusing on Hermione's costume," what are you wearing? No, no, not that, forget that, but why didn't you tell me you were going to be greek goddess, Hermione?"

"For your information, I am Athena," she said and imitated your twirl, "and I wanted it to be a surprise, I kind of got the idea thanks to you, when you told me you were going to be Medusa."

"Well, yeah... It's perfectly okay, but I would've liked to know before! Also, dressing up as specifically Athena is so you, Hermione, and you look gorgeous, seriously, I'm in love with you. Draco Malfoy who?"

"Is that a confession?" questioned Hermione with a sly smile.

"It's a joke" you clarified rolling your eyes but with a lopsided smile on your face.

"Yeah, sure, truly convincing," your friend said with sarcasm "Anyways, we gotta go now, come on!"

And off you went. You met Harry and Ron in the Gryffindor common room (Harry had dressed up as a Gryffindor quidditch player who'd been hit in the head by a bludger, and Ron was simply wearing a Chudley Cannons uniform. Boy, if these guys were obsessed with quidditch...) and the four of you headed happily towards the entrance of the castle, where all the students gathered before going to Hogsmeade. In your way there you were able to see a lot of different costumes from the students who were attending your party and you were deeply amused (and amazed) by they're creativity. Wizards should definitely do this more often.

When you finally arrived to the Three Broomsticks, you found the entire place decorated just as you'd imagined, and Madam Rosmerta (whom you'd previously sent a letter asking for her permission to use the place for your party in exchange of a reasonable amount of money, and she very kindly had agreed and even offered to help you with the organisation and setting the ambience too) was just applying the final touches.

"Oh, hello, dears!" she greeted you with a smile; she really was a very beautiful woman, no wonder why Ron and many other students fancied her, "So? What do you think? Is it like you imagined?"

"It definitely is!" you exclaimed looking around the place in awe, "It's truly fantastic, thank you so, so much! Now all we got to do is wait for everybody else to arrive!"

It didn't take too long before the first group of students entered the place, only a couple of minutes after the time of the appointment, and from then on, people just kept flooding the pub.

"All right, guys!" you shouted over the murmurs of the crowd so everybody could hear you and be quiet while you spoke, "Here's what we've got: You are allowed to order two butterbeers free of charge, however, if you want more you'll have to pay them yourselves. Now, there's relatively decent food on that table," you pointed to the table on the corner at your left side," and in that other table next to the entrance you will find a bunch of various sweets that are definitely unhealthy if eaten in excess, so, please, don't get too excited, people," the multitude before you chuckled and you smiled widely," Also, dear Colin here offered to take pictures of whoever asked him to, so if you want one, just let him now... Ah! And I almost forgot, there will be a costume contest at the end, so be sure to write your name down on the scroll that's on that wall,"you said and pointed to the wall opposite to you," if you want to participate. I think that's all for now, so enjoy the party, and Happy Halloween, everybody!"

The crowd cheered and applauded you before returning to their chatting or heading straight to where the food was. You walked towards the bar to tell something to Madam Rosmerta and soon some upbeat Halloween-themed music started playing. At some point, a few students took a corner of the place as improvised dance floor and, frankly, everything was even better than how you'd pictured it at first. And that was saying something.

"Amazing party, (Y/N)! You should totally do this more often!" cheered Fred and George Weasley about and hour after the beginning of the party. They'd dressed up as some quite creepy zombie conjoint twins and you thought it was brilliant.

"Thank you, guys! I'm glad you're having fun!" you shouted over the music, "By the way, I think your costume is brilliant, suits you perfectly!"

"Thanks! Hope it's enough to win that costume contest of yours, but being honest, there's a lot of competition here," Fred replied.

"Yeah, I mean, just look at your costume! You look fantastic!" George continued.

"Oww, well, luckily for you, I'm going to be a judge, so I'm not participating..."

The conversation went on for a couple more minutes until Lee Jordan called the twins to the dance floor.

Although the party was an absolute hit, you couldn't help but think about a certain someone who wasn't there.

"You look a bit disappointed," said Hermione from behind you, making you jump a bit, "Thinking about somebody who didn't come, perhaps?"

Sometimes it was truly scary how Hermione could know so much.

"What? No! What are you talking about?" you asked trying to brush the topic off.

"Will you please stop trying to deny your feelings, (Y/N)?" Hermione crossed her arms over her chest. "Look, it's pretty obvious that Malfoy isn't indifferent to you and, to be fair, I don't really mind! I mean, he's been a lot less annoying since you two started to get along a little better, so go ahead if you fancy him!"

"But what if I don't want to fancy him, Hermione?" you exclaimed finally giving in, "He was pretty awful to us in our first years and, yes, maybe we get along now, and he's been a lot better but... I just... I don't know! I guess I feel a bit guilty about it... Besides,he can still be considerably rude sometimes towards people and, even if we left that aside, what makes you think that he could possibly fancy me? I mean, come on, he didn't even come! And I don't... I don't want to be all head over heels for him or anything, and that's also the reason why I keep denying it! If I talk about it, it becomes more real, so maybe if I simply ignore it, my feelings will go away soon enough!"

Luckily for you, you were wearing your green Medusa makeup, otherwise Hermione would have been able to see your cheeks turn bright red.

"Okay, I understand that..." she said, "But I think you got something wrong there, (Y/N), he did come..."

"What?!"

"He just arrived, look, there he is! It's like you invoked him" You turned to look were Hermione had her eyes fixed. And, of course, she was right, there he was. Looking quite dreamy, but you shouldn't think about that, should you? "I'd give you my whole pep talk, but there's no time, you've got more important things to take care of right now. Just, I don't know, let it flow, okay?... But go on, then! Go with him!" she hurried you. You did as you were told and walked towards him changing your mood instantly and pretending that the previous conversation with Hermione had never happened. Just act normal, you thought.

"So you came!" you greeted him once you'd reached him.

"I did," Draco asserted, "Medusa, huh?" he said looking at you up and down with a raised eyebrow and... was that the spirit of a smirk? Once more your makeup helped you hide your blushing and you tried to act like there weren't some butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

...Ugh, this was exactly why you didn't want to admit you fancied him in the first place!

"Indeed," you replied smirking, "And a vampire, eh? Pretty simple if I'm honest, but you look good."

"I always look good, (Y/L/N), but if I'm honest," he said imitating your tone, "you look pretty good too."

"I always look good, Malfoy."

You explained him what you'd told the crowd at the beginning of the party and he decided to order a butterbeer. Then the conversation between the two of you simply kept on going without much difficulty; for some strange reason the fact that you had feelings for him and yet apparently not a single thing in common with him didn't affect your communication.

"All right, but this is insane," he said at some point, " how did you manage to pull this off? I mean, it must have cost you quite a fortune..."

"Well, I did get help from my friends with the budget, but, yes, I had to negotiate with my parents and trade my Christmas and birthday presents of the next year for some money to do this right."

"You're bloody insane..."

"I think you made that pretty clear when I first invited you to come, and yet here you are," you said with sufficiency, "so I guess I'm not the only one here who's gone a bit nuts."

He huffed and took another sip of his butterbeer. In that moment, Ginny Weasley, Parvati Patil and Hermione, who were currently dancing among a bunch of other students, called you and gestured at you to go dance with them. You nodded and turned to Draco in order to tell him that he could stay there while you danced for a while, but before you could articulate anything he said:

"No way you're leaving me here, you're the only person I can actually interact with in a mildly pacific way, so I'm sticking with you."

"Okay... But you're gonna have to dance, then."

"And you think am not qualified for the task?" he asked with his usual smirk.

"Are you really always such a showoff?"

"Only when I'm trying to impress somebody," that answer definitely took you by surprise, but you didn't have the chance to say anything, 'cause he added, "Go on, then, they're waiting for you. I'll go right behind."

And so you danced with your friends. And he danced. And you two danced together. And it was pretty unbelievable for everyone, including you, but nobody seemed to mind since they had never seen Draco in such an unproblematic mood.

A couple of hours later, the costume contest finally took place. The prize for the winner was a special package of sweets you'd prepared plus five galleons... Yeaaah, you'd definitely put a lot of effort in the planning of your party, and it had been completely worth it so far.

All the participants formed a line so each one could walk around showing their costume just as if it were a fashion runway. Meanwhile, you were arranging the seats for the judges. And, as a matter of fact, you had one judge missing. Your intention at first had been that there were four judges in the panel, nonetheless, since both Harry and Ron had declined the offer because they wanted to participate, you were only three: Madam Rosmerta, Hermione and yourself. And all the people you trusted also wanted to take part in it, so it seemed that you'd have to settle with only three judges. Unless...

"Hey, Draco!" Wait, since when did you address him by his first name? Oooh, this was getting out of control... You shouldn't have said anything!

"What is it?" he asked from the seat he had taken at some nearby table, just like all the other students who wouldn't take part in the contest, and were happy to simply watch, had done.

"Well, I was wondering..." you began doubtfully, "if you would like to be a judge too?"

"Me? A judge?" He frowned. "Why?"

"Because I wanted there to be four, but I've got one missing. And I think you'd make a fair judge, as long as you keep your good mood and you're not rude to our contestants... So?" you said bitting your lip.

"Erm, all right. Can't promise I won't be tough on them, though" there was that smirk again.

"Oh, shut up," you said playfully," You can be tough, just not rude. There's a difference."

And so the contest began.

An hour flew by and sooner than you'd expected, you found yourself deliberating with your three judges on whose costume was the best. A task which was pretty hard to do. Harder than you'd expected, actually.

At the moment, you had managed to leave only three finalists, each one provided by one of your fellow judges, and you were the one with the final word. The problem was that you couldn't make up your mind.

"I'm telling you!" Hermione insisted, "Harry's costume should win! It's creative and original and very thorough!"

"Granger, you're only saying that because he's your friend," intervened Draco," but come on! That kid with the Dementor costume? He is literally floating! And he's like in second grade or so! I really think he's the one who should win."

"Well, he definitely portrays a dementor better than you did in third year..." the girl countered.

"All right, guys, don't fight, we gotta make a decision quickly and you're getting on my nerves. Yes, both of you..."

"I still say that those Weasley twins are a lot of fun... They should win if you ask me," Madam Rosmerta mentioned, already losing interest in the matter; looking at three teenagers argue over a costume contest wasn't exactly her definition of "fun".

"Yeah, but they're costume is not as complex as Harry's, (Y/N)!" Hermione reiterated.

"But Potter is not floating, now, is he?" Draco retorted.

"Merlin's beard, you guys! Will you both please shut up?" you scolded, "If I'm completely honest, I wouldn't even consider any of them as my first option, I would choose Padma Patil!" you paused for a second thinking what to say next to state your point, "I mean, she dressed up as Celestina Warbeck! Are you joking? That's bloody brilliant if you ask me! And not only that but she brought Lavender, Parvati and that other girl whose name I don't remember at the moment as her Banshees! Come on! Creative, original... Besides, look at her dress! It looks pretty thorough to me! And yeah, she may not be floating," you added turning to Draco," but she's enchanted her necklace to play 'You stole my cauldron but you can't have my heart' to look like she's actually singing!"

There were a couple of seconds of silence, until Draco decided to break it.

"Then why on earth didn't you say that from the very beginning, (Y/L/N)?"

"Because you were so determined to say who you thought should win that I didn't want to cause more trouble with the decision!"

"Well, as a matter of fact, it makes it a lot easier for me," said Madam Rosmerta, "that girl and her friends were my second option. I simply love Celestina Warbeck."

"She was my third option, so I guess I don't mind," Draco stated shrugging and then leaned back on his chair.

You looked at Hermione.

"Well, yeah... She wasn't in my top three, but it's fine for me", she didn't sound entirely convinced, but it was enough.

"Okay, then..." you said finally, a little surprised by the result, yet satisfied," Brilliant! Then we've got our winner!"

The four of you stood up; Hermione, Draco and you walked to the center of the improvised runway while Madam Rosmerta simply returned to the back of the bar, clearly not wanting to take part in the decision-making of some fifteen-year-olds anymore.

"So, before we announce our winner, I wanted to say something," you began, "As you can see, it was quite difficult for us to make a decision, because all of your costumes are amazing. I truly think so! You're so creative and fun, and believe me when I say that if I had a larger budget I'd probably give prizes to all of you," you chuckled softly, " unfortunately, it isn't the case, so we had to choose only one... Are you ready to know who won?"

The multitude shouted a very enthusiastic "Yes" as response.

"All right, then... Padma Patil, congratulations, you and your Banshees are the winners!"

There were cheers, applause and a few disappointed sighs, but everybody seemed to be as satisfied with the decision as you. You gave the four girls their prize and the music started playing once more. However, the party was coming to its end and a lot of people were already saying their goodbyes and leaving. Therefore, before anything else could happen, you grabbed Draco's arm and dragged him all the way to where Colin Creevy was taking a few pictures of some third year students.

"What are you doing?"

"We're gonna take some pictures," you stated, "I've already got a few with Harry, Ron and Hermione, but since you arrived late..."

He didn't even get the chance to protest, because in that moment the third year students left and you dragged him once more to the spot where they'd been posing.

"What the... What am I supposed to do?" he inquired with a slight note of panic in his voice.

"Dunno, just think of cool poses! We've got two shots, so think fast!"

Your first shot was of you two in an average pose, you know, just smiling, you leaning on his shoulder, his arm around your waist and the butterflies in your stomach going a bit crazier about it.

"What now?!"

"I don't know! It's not like I'm used to doing this!" he exclaimed.

"I thought you were Draco bloody Malfoy, aren't you known enough to get a lot of pictures? You should be used to it!"

"I don't get a lot of fun pictures with weird poses!"

"Well, think of something then!" Colin could do nothing but stare in amusement at your absurd argument, trying to suppress his laughter.

"You think of something!" Draco countered.

"Why am I the one who always has to think of everything? Use your brain, mister!"

And you'd barely finished your sentence when, without a warning and almost against any common sense left on both of you, Draco's lips crushed against yours, his hands grabbing the sides of your face eagerly. Only an instant later he pulled away and looked at you, with his usually pale cheeks coloured in a bright shade of pink and his moon-like eyes reflecting the panic of maybe having done something very wrong. However, he quickly intended to hide it:

"Was that a proper use of my brain, miss?

You were flabbergasted. Totally. The whole night had been utter madness for you since this boy arrived... But it wasn't a bad type of madness, you were delighted. You fancied him. And now you knew that it was mutual.

"Well... Sure... but why did you stop?" you murmured, just inches away from his face, and then smiled bitting your lip. You saw his whole face lighten up as he smiled broadly, just before leaning in to kiss you once more, this time more passionately and intensely than before. You could feel the cold touch of his family ring against the soft skin of your cheeks, contrasting with the warmth of his palms.

The camera flashed and that single incredible moment was captured forever in a picture that would last for a long, long time, kept in scrapbooks and family photo albums.

"Oh, crap..." you grumbled after you pulled away the second time.

"What's wrong?" Draco asked, his voice hoarse due to the kiss.

"Now I'm going to have to do Ronald's homework for a week!"

[miraculousladybugandconsent]

Am I in a Healthy Relationship?

It Feels Like Love — But Is It?

It's totally normal to look at the world through rose-colored glasses in the early stages of a relationship. But for some people, those rose-colored glasses turn into blinders that keep them from seeing that a relationship isn't as healthy as it should be.

What Makes a Healthy Relationship?

Hopefully, you and your significant other are treating each other well. Not sure if that's the case? Take a step back from the dizzying sensation of being swept off your feet and think about whether your relationship has these qualities:

Mutual respect. 

Does he or she get how great you are and why? Make sure your BF or GF is into you for who you are.

Does your partner listen when you say you're not comfortable doing something and then back off right away, without trying to get you to change your mind?

Respect in a relationship means that each person values the other and understands — and would never challenge — the other person's boundaries.

Trust.

You're talking with a guy from French class and your boyfriend walks by. Does he completely lose his cool, or keep walking because he knows you'd never cheat on him?

It's okay to get a little jealous sometimes — jealousy is a natural emotion. But how a person reacts when feeling jealous is what matters.

There's no way you can have a healthy relationship if you don't trust each other.

Honesty.

This one goes hand-in-hand with trust, because it's tough to trust someone when one of you isn't being honest.

Have you ever caught your girlfriend in a major lie?

Like she told you that she had to work on Friday night but it turned out she was at the movies with her friends?

The next time she says she has to work, you'll have a lot more trouble believing her, and the trust will be on shaky ground.

Support.

It's not just in bad times that your partner should support you.

Some people are great when your whole world is falling apart, but not that interested in hearing about the good things in your life.

In a healthy relationship, your significant other is there with a shoulder to cry on when you find out your parents are getting divorced and to celebrate with you when you get the lead in a play.

Fairness/equality.

You need to have give-and-take in your relationship.

Do you take turns choosing which new movie to see?

As a couple, do you hang out with your partner's friends as often as they hang out with yours?

You'll know if it isn't a pretty fair balance.

Things get bad really fast when a relationship turns into a power struggle, with one person fighting to get their way all the time.

Separate identities.

In a healthy relationship, everyone needs to make compromises, but that doesn't mean you should feel like you're losing out on being yourself.

When you started going out, you both had your own lives (families, friends, interests, hobbies, etc.) and that shouldn't change.

Neither of you should have to pretend to like something you don't, or give up seeing your friends, or drop out of activities you love.

And you also should feel free to keep developing new talents or interests, making new friends, and moving forward.

Good communication.

Can you talk to each other and share feelings that are important to you?

Don't keep feelings bottled up because you're afraid it's not what your partner wants to hear.

And if you need some time to think something through before you're ready to talk about it, the right person will give you some space to do that.

What's an Unhealthy Relationship?

A relationship is unhealthy when it involves mean, disrespectful, controlling, or abusive behavior.

Some people live in homes with parents who fight a lot or abuse each other — emotionally, verbally, or physically. For some people who have grown up around this kind of behavior it can almost seem normal or okay, but it's not!

Many of us learn from watching and imitating the people close to us. So someone who has lived around violent or disrespectful behavior may not have learned how to treat others with kindness and respect, or how to expect the same treatment. This does not make it okay to disrespect you!

Qualities like kindness and respect are absolute requirements for a healthy relationship.

Someone who doesn't yet have this part down may need to work on it with a trained therapist before he or she is ready for a relationship.

Meanwhile, even though you might feel bad or feel for someone who's been mistreated, you need to take care of yourself — it's not healthy to stay in a relationship that involves abusive behavior of any kind.

Even if your partner was or is being abused, it is never okay for them to abuse you, and you aren’t a bad person for keeping yourself safe.

Warning Signs

When a boyfriend or girlfriend uses verbal insults, mean language, nasty putdowns, gets physical by hitting or slapping, or forces someone into sexual activity, it's a sign of verbal, emotional, or physical abuse.

Ask yourself, does my partner:

get angry when I don't drop everything for them?

criticize the way I look or dress, and say I'll never be able to find anyone else who would date me?

keep me from seeing friends or from talking to other guys or girls?

want me to quit an activity, even though I love it?

ever raise a hand when angry, like they were about to hit me?

try to force me to go further sexually than I want to?

These aren't the only questions you can ask yourself. If you can think of any way in which your partner is trying to control you, make you feel bad about yourself, isolate you from the rest of your world, or — this is a big one — harm you physically or sexually, then it's time to get out, fast.

Let a trusted friend or family member know what's going on, and make sure you're safe.

It can be tempting to make excuses or misinterpret violence, possessiveness, or anger as an expression of love.But even if you know that the person hurting you loves you, it is not healthy.

No one deserves to be hit, shoved, or forced into anything they don't want to do.

Why Are Some Relationships So Difficult?

Ever heard about how it's hard for someone to love you when you don't love yourself? It's a big relationship roadblock when one or both people struggle with self-esteem problems.

Your partner isn't there to make you feel good about yourself if you can't do that on your own.

Focus on being happy with yourself, and don't take on the responsibility of worrying about someone else's happiness.

What if you feel that your girlfriend or boyfriend needs too much from you? If the relationship feels like a burden or a drag instead of a joy, it might be time to think about whether it's a healthy match for you.

Even if your partner is mentally ill, or struggling with something in their personal life, it doesn’t mean you have to stay with them. A relationship is supposed to benefit both sides and make you both happy. If all it’s doing is making you miserable, it’s okay to end it.

You are never obligated to stay in a relationship, no matter your reasons for ending it. 

If your partner ever threatens you with hurting themselves if you leave them, tell a trusted adult immediately, and end the relationship. Even if someone is mentally ill, it is never okay to threaten self-harm or suicide to keep someone in a relationship, and you are not responsible for their actions, even if they try to blame you. Tell a trusted adult that your partner was threatening to hurt themselves, and end the relationship.

Manipulating someone with the threat of self-harm or suicide is abusive, and it is never okay.

If you are struggling with suicidal ideation or thought of self-harm, talk to a trusted adult or call a helpline. You can talk to your partner about the way you feel, but it is not okay for you to use your mental illness as a threat or a manipulation tactic.

Feeling suicidal doesn’t always mean you want to die, wishing you didn’t exist or were never born is another common symptom. Click here to find out how you can get help if you’re feeling suicidal or want to hurt yourself.

Another reason relationships might seem so difficult is because intense relationships can be hard for teens.

Some are so focused on their own developing feelings and responsibilities that they don't have the emotional energy it takes to respond to someone else's feelings and needs in a close relationship.

Don't worry if you're just not ready yet. You can take all the time you need, even if you decide you never want to date at all.

Ever notice that some teen relationships don't last very long? It's no wonder — you're both still growing and changing every day. You might seem perfect for each other at first, but that can change. If you try to hold on to the relationship anyway, there's a good chance it will turn sour. Better to part as friends than to stay in something that you've outgrown or that no longer feels right for one or both of you.

And before you go looking for amour from that hottie from French class, respect your current beau by breaking things off before you make your move. Cheating isn’t okay, no matter your reasons.

Relationships can be full of fun, romance, excitement, intense feelings, and occasional heartache, too.

Whether you're single or in a relationship, remember that it's good to be choosy about who you get close to. If you're still waiting, take your time and get to know plenty of people, and know that no choice needs to be permanent.

Think about the qualities you value in a friendship, and see how they match up with the ingredients of a healthy relationship.

Work on developing those good qualities in yourself — they make you a lot more attractive to others.

And if you're already part of a pair, make sure the relationship you're in brings out the best in both of you.

source

[crushzone]

relationship hcs for akiteru 🥺🥺🥺

Hi yes yes YESSS! More love for Akiteru, here we go! 💕

Being in a Relationship with Akiteru Tsukishima 🥰

Let me start off by saying this: if you ever find yourself in a relationship with him, then congratulations, you have very great taste and a wonderful boyfriend. 😘

How it all began:

You met Akiteru at your university. As someone who greatly values academic and genuinely enjoys going to classes, you always wake up a little earlier than you had to, just so you can get a head start. Little did you know that you’d run into the cutest fellow early bird on the first day of your second year.

As expected, the building is peaceful, so quiet, as the only sound are echos from your shoes. But to your surprise, you come across a silhouette of a tall male, sitting with his back to you, in front of the massive window that overlooks the empty university.

When your footsteps come to a stop, he turns to you, lowering the book that he’s holding on to his lap. “Are you here for World War 2 in Cinema?” He asks with a smile.

His smile widens when you respond with a nod, turning around to fully face you with an arm outstretched. “My name is Tsukishima Akiteru! But you can call me Akiteru.”

You walk up to him and shakes his warm hand, as you can’t help but be infected by his genuine smile and warm demeanor.

Also noting how calloused his palms are. Hmm, what could’ve caused that 🤔

From that day on, you two would come to class even earlier; from 10 minutes, to 15, even up to 20, just so you can chit chat.

He’d bring whatever he thought was cool to show you before class too. For instance, he’s gone thrift shopping with his other friends once, and came across a children dinosaur book. It made him very nostalgic as it reminded him of Kei, but he’s also way too excited to share it with you, so he bought it on the whim.

His friends totally gave him a weird look, but they’re like: ok, yea, Akiteru’s just being hella nerdy. The usual.

You would also bring cool things to share with him before class as well, and it makes him really happy when you do.

He’d come home everyday, since the day he’d met you, with a fuzzy feeling in his chest. So he likes to snuggle his side pillow with his warm cheeks squished to it with eyes closed, day dreaming about you.

In a way, you remind him a lot of younger Kei; when he’d have someone to share his interests and passion with. However, he’s well aware that you are not his brother and that his excitement to see you every morning is way too intense for it to be something that’s just platonic.

Is also a very observant person; if you’ve gotten a haircut, re-painted your nails, or is wearing something new, he will instantly compliment you on that. And the bizarre thing is that he’s not even trying to suck up to you, it’s actually how he felt and his eyes automatically notice new things about you, even if they may be subtle.

He’s usually the one asking a lot of questions; he wants to know more about you, where you’re from, your family, your passion, hobbies.

So you were pretty surprised when you found out he’s on Kaji Wild Dogs Volleyball team. You didn’t even know what a Wing Spiker or anything is because you were never really a big sports fan.

When you frankly told him that you do not know much about sports, but is still fruitlessly trying to come up with questions, just so he can talk about his passion some more, he just laugh, a wholesome grin on his cute freaking face. 😩

“It’s okay, Y/n-san, It means a lot to me that you’re trying to understand the sport that’s meant so much to me, but that doesn’t mean you have to force yourself to speak about it for my sake. I have other passions too, and I’d rather speak about what makes the both of us happy.”

Ughh, like how are you so observant!! It’s the big brother intuition, I tell ya. Since Kei barely communicates with him verbally, he’s gotten really good at observing micro-signs.

Which MEANSSS that this man KNOWSSSS you are into him and that he’s got a chance. Oh yea, he knows bby, and he may or may not have denied it for a day, before he’s like, nah dude, I like them too, so I’m going to go for it.

Your name keeps popping up in conversation with his friends, even without his awareness. BUT if there is ever a chance for him to promote you in a conversation, he will not hesitate, and totally go all out.

He is addicted to your smile, and he wants you to keep doing whatever makes you happy.

Will go out of his ways to support your hobbies; e.g. staying up late at night to brainstorm paper ideas with you, and he’s not even in the class your paper’s for.

Speaking of assignments, you guys are the POWER STUDY BUDDY. Like wow, you know those times when you meet up with your friends for a study sesh, but it turns into a distracting mess. No no, not with you two smarties.

There’s this mutual unspoken agreement, the moment he’s asked you to study with him at the library during mid-terms. You’ll be chit chatting about anything in the world on your way to the lib, but the moment you’ve found your work desk, you’re both completely silent as your eyes skim through the pages of your textbook, while his hands scribble like flaming wheels on his notebook.

The only time one of you would speak is when you’re hungry, and you want to stop by the library’s cafe. He will always ask you if you want anything, even if you already have your sandwich in front of you.

And even if you’ve said no, he’ll still buy something extra for you anyway, cuz he knows it’s going to be a late night at the library.

Knows your class schedule by memory, will always walk or offer to drive you home. And he’ll always make sure you actually enter your apartment before leaving.

On days when he cannot be there to drive you home because of practice, he can’t relax until you send him a photo of your cat at home or something haha.

He’s basically your main ride for almost anything, including groceries. He just enjoys spending time with you in general, it doesn’t have to be anything grand, just as long as you are with him, something as dreadful as waiting at the DMV no longer sounds as bad. 

There was never really a distinct moment of when your first date was, because your relationship started off with a very stable friendship of shared interests.

It’s likely that he’ll confess his feelings for you even before he’s officially asked you on a date, because you are so comfortable with each other’s presence. And you’re cool with that, you’ve always wanted a relationship with an S/O who’e like a best friend anyway.

When he confessed, he did it at least expected moments. It was when you were on your way back from grocery shopping together, you noticed a cheesy-looking Halloween shop, so you asked him if he’d be down. You didn’t even have to beg, he’s already turning his car around.

Can I also add that he’s a very smooth and calm driver?

You’ll be trying on the goofiest looking costume, and he cannot help but smile at how perfect you are to him. Then it slips.

You: Look at me, I’m a cat meow meow. Akiteru: *laughs* Wow, what an accurate imitation. You: I know right? I’m not as cute as my cat though. Akiteru: You are very cute to me. 😳

Wow okay, but was that like platonic cute, or romantic cute. You know? Sometimes, people are vague, what can I say. But not Akiteru.

Akiteru: and I meant it. I like you a lot, Y/n-san. He confesses, looking at you with a smile. Like how are you going to say no to that.

Earlier stages:

Congratulations, Akiteru is now your boyfriend. ✨

A lot of the things that had been mentioned above still remains: he’s still just as attentive and observant as he had been from the start.

He has a list on his phone, of all the things you would eye when you go window shopping, the food you crave when you are extra broke that month, and the different things that make you smile so widely, he could’ve sworn your cheeks were about to explode.

He may not be the richest person in the world, but he will go out of his way to bring your cravings/wishes to fruition. For instance, you were craving some vegetarian Ethiopian food, but it was way too pricy for you to splurge, and you can’t decide on just one. Akiteru will go out of his ways to gather all ingredients, and cook everything from scratch, just so you can experience it as identically to the original thing you had craved for.

You also like to cook together a lot, and he’s pretty great in the kitchen. Loves chopping things for you, especially onions, because he hates the way it makes you tear up. 🥺

Calls you pet names that are inspired by all the children books and anime he’d read and watch with Kei, such as “Olive Baby (Olive Oyl from Popeye the Sailor), Dokin-chan~ (From Go! Anpanman), and Lil Tweety (Warner Bros.) ”

He will just text you with “Cuddle Bug? 🐞” and that’s just code for “I want you to spoil me with cuddles right now.”

It’ll usually happen randomly, but you’ve been noticing him doing that a lot after you’ve had a long day at work or after studying. You often wonder if Cuddle Bug was actually meant to be for him, or if it’s because you looked like you needed one. Regardless, you are grateful.

You can never say no to his cuddle requests because he gives some of the best ones you’ve ever experienced.

His favorite cuddle position is when you are laying on his chest, as he bring both arms to wrap around your shoulders, tucking his nose to your hair as he ingrains the memory of your scent to his mind. The feeling of your warm hand on the dip of his broad chest, makes his heart beat a little faster, as he relishes in your presence.

But on days when you know he needs Cuddle Bug most, are when he’d return to university housing after his visit home.

On those days, he will be the one to lay on your nape, face down, as his long arms wrap around your waist, and underneath the curve of your back. Automatically, your fingers find its way to his honey hued hair, running it through his soft strands, massaging his scalp, as you occasionally brush his temple with your thumb.

You could’ve sworn he purrs like a cat whenever you do.

When you ask him how his visit home went, he always assures that it went well, but you wonder if that was the entire truth.

He always seems a little silent after his visits, not being as playful about his teasings, and his smiles being a little less energetic than what you’re used to. 

You were so concerned, you even asked some of his volleyball friends, and all they know was that Akiteru’s brother gives him a hard time, sometimes.

Strange, because Akiteru had only ever said great things about his brother to you: how Kei is a regular player in the team, and that he is killing the game at his blocks. Whenever he talks about his younger brother, his eyes sparkle and his voice booms proudly.

Knowing him, you decide to leave it at that, and not pry further into it. If he wants to tell you, he’ll tell you himself.

He’ll include you in all of his social events, as long as he’s allowed to, and likes to bring you with him whenever his friends want to hangout.

You felt a little bad, because you didn’t want to take away his guy time, but his friends genuinely enjoy your company. They even ask him how you’re doing sometimes, and for him to say hi for them.

Long term:

Okay, so when I say long term, I mean that it’s past the honeymoon phase.

At this point, you guys know each other so well, like it’s the back of your hands.

You also live together now, in a two bedroom apartment, where you turned one of the bedrooms into both your study rooms.

A very adventurous couple: would go hiking and camping all the time. But he’s also kind of a big introvert, so he’s totally down for chill movie nights at home.

And when you watch movies at home, you both SPRAWL out ALLLL over the couch, doesn’t even matter if you are short or tall, you both will take up every inch of the couch.

He’ll occasionally surprise you with some spontaneous dinner dates at home too, because he knows how badly you wish your cat could join you for all the dates you’ve gone to.

On those spontaneous dinner dates, you’ll come home and he’ll greet you in some nice button ups, 3 buttons undone, black trousers, and black dress shoes. When he draws you in a hug, you can smell the faintest cologne on his neck: a mix of caramel, and something subtly spicy but refreshing.

You also understand volleyball a little better now, and is always there to cheer for him to the fullest extent of your lungs, jumping up and down in excitement every time he score.

Whenever he’s feeling a little too exhausted than he intends to, all he needs is to look over at you, and just like that, he’s instantly recharged as he jumps up and down to your wave with a peace sign.

Is also not a clingy boyfriend at all, he trusts and respects you, and you are both very independent with your own set of interests. He’s totally fine not seeing you ALL the time during the day, but you ALWAYS make dinner together a thing (or if not, at least you’ll spend one of your meals together.)

He may not be the best at communication, such as when something’s bothering him, but that is just his way of protecting you of his burden.

And being around Mr.Perceptive, had taught you to be one as well. You pick up on subtle micro-signs, such as when he would count the grains of his rice with chopsticks, before pulling one grain to his lips at a time. You KNOW something bothersome is plaguing his mind when he plays with food.

He opens up to you about his past mistakes and the reason why Kei no longer talks to him very much. He’s very bothered by the way his little brother holes up in his own room when he visits, it makes him feel like a phantom, a walking failure that just occupies his parent’s home.

And every time his facade shatters, you instantly pull him into a hug, just the same way he’s always liked, his long limbs on top of yours, with your digits entangled in his hair.

You got him to work on his communication, clearly expressing the importance of it to you. And though he struggles sometimes, he’s still doing his best to improve.

Is a very clean person, kind of obsessed with keeping the kitchen clean; he cannot enjoy dinner until everything is in place.

Not that uptight about it though, there will be days when he lets it slip. But then he’ll be right back at it, after you’ve gone upstairs to prepare for bed: quickly washing the dishes and wiping everything down.

If that is not some husband energy then I do not know what is. 😩🥰

You jokingly told him how sexy he is, whenever he does home chores, and it’s now become an inside joke. Every time one of you wipes down the counter or puts the dishes away, you’ll turn to each other and wiggle your brows suggestively, before bursting into laughters.

At this point, if you were never good at teasing, you bet you’ve improved significantly just from dating him.

You’ll really worry when Akiteru gets home late from practice, so sometimes, you’ll stop by with his dinner to find that he is alone in the gym, just practicing his spikes.

When that happens, he’ll sit outside to eat with you, stargazing. Then he’ll return to the gym to lock it up,

But on days, when you’d stop by to say hi at the gym, in the morning, his team would great you very warmly. They’re pretty much your family now, and you like to host them at your apartment for potlucks.

Now, every time Akiteru visits home, he’ll bring you with him.

His mother LOVES you, she finds you to be one of the loveliest person she’s ever met, and keeps thanking you for taking such great care of her son.

With you there with him, he no longer feels lost when he’s home, he’s got you! And anytime he gets to see Kei for dinner, he’s just grateful.

Speaking of Kei, he suppose he does not mind you. You share a lot of similar interests with him — well, that would make a lot of sense because you and Akiteru does too, and that man had such a big influence through Kei’s adolescence.

Sometimes, Kei will chill with you and Akiteru at the balcony, your favorite music playing softly in the background as Kei watches his brother practice. You can’t help but smile, when you see that the brothers are slowly reconstructing their relationship.

Kei totally hates how you and Akiteru cheers so loudly at his matches though. Now he has to deal with another person embarrassing him at the stadium lol. (Though he is low key happy you both do 🤭)  

You spoil Akiteru with head massages every night, without fail. And in return, he gives you foot rubs every morning. 

Here’s how it usually goes: You’ll give him a head massage for a good minute, before patting his head, leaning down to gently pucker your lips against his forehead. Then he’d lift his chin with eyes closed, and that is when you’d give him three gentle pecks on the lips before crawling under the covers beside him. “Thank you”, he’d breath gratefully with a content smile, eyes still closed.

You no longer cuddle every night, especially during the hot summer, but you will link your middle and ring fingers as you both drift to sleep, bodies facing each other in a fetal position. 🥺

And on days when he’d wake up before you, he’ll spend a minute studying your adorable sleeping face with a smile. He wants to protect you from the world, to keep you safe in his arms as you both grow stronger together as individuals.

He has no idea how he’s ended up with you, but he thanks the sky every day for granting him your existence. He loves you so much, way more than he could ever put to words. With a gentle kiss to your forehead, you stir awake to see his warm smile, you’ve grown so accustomed to.

“Good morning, y/n-san. I love you, my lil Tweety.” 😘

---------

Taglist (open): @shhhlikeme @ceo-of-daichi @karasu-hoes @super-noya @nonexistent-social-life

[peaches-writes]

syncopated

description: the 6 instances you and chan almost dated and the 1 drinking party when you asked him about them  member: bang chan genre: angst (?), fluff, college au, almost lovers au word count: 5.5.k warnings: explicit language, drinking

italicized text - present day

Y/B - your birthday

prologue

Minho clears the messy table in one swift motion—by that meaning he haphazardly pushes the half-empty bottles of soju and snack wrappers with one arm to pile on one side in order to make way for the mysterious object he hides behind his back. “Okay, let’s see if this is any good.” He mutters under his breath, thinking about how much he spent on the lie detector toy he places at the very center of the table. “Rock, paper, scissors on who starts the game?”

Though most on the table are already floating between being dead drunk and half-asleep, everyone eventually manages to put out a hand for the game, even Changbin whom you swear has been asleep for the past rounds of the mafia game. “Oh, also, penalty shot if the toy buzzes you!” Jisung slurs with a giggle as if it’s been the brightest thing he’s said throughout their entire party. “Rock, paper, scissors!”

In some five or six rounds (you lose count because of the amount of unrelated small talk in between), it then comes down to you and Chan.

“Do we move to the left or to the right of the first player?” Seungmin asks but no one answers.

Instead, Minho shrugs. “It’s whatever, we’ll decide later.”

Looking to your left across the table, Chan is surprisingly looking more sober than your seven other drinking buddies for tonight. He nurses a shot glass in one hand and his phone in the other, camera open in case Changbin does something stupid again since he’s suddenly woken up. "We could just do a coin toss.” 

“Nah, let’s just do a round of rock, paper, scissors. I don’t have coins with me, anyway.” You hold out your hand and he mimics your actions. “Rock, paper, scissors!” 

You pull paper and he pulls rock. 

“Ah, yes. perfect!” Hyunjin clasps his hands together and suddenly everyone seated on the table is awake, eyes directed to Chan whose right hand immediately gets strapped to the lie detector toy by an equally excited Minho. “Minho, should you ask him or should I?”

Before Minho could open his mouth to speak, however, a now very-much-awake Jisung beats him to it. “I’ll do it!” Seated next to you, he stands up and reaches to the lie detector, finger hovering above the button. “Bang Chan, did you or did you not have a serious crush on Y/N at one point?”

“Jisung, what the fuck?” You pull him back to his seat by the back of his shirt but he’s significantly faster, pressing the button on the lie detector toy before you could say more, a smug smile on his face. “Chan, you don’t have to answer, it’s cool.”

But everyone ignores you (even the man in question), looking on curiously and more awake now than ever. Briefly catching Chan’s eye, you see him contemplating with pursed lips and eyes trained down to the flashing lights of the toy, making it feel as if its ominous music is dragging on longer than usual.

“Well?” Seungmin urges on when the song seems to be coming to an end, uncharacteristically impatient when drunk.

“No?” And as if on cue, a buzz sound cuts the music as Chan’s hand is briefly electrified, his first instinct being to bring his hand closer to his chest with a wince. “Ow, shit!”

A beat of silence. No one says a word—you can barely read the expressions everyone else wears on their faces as Chan proceeds to take his hand off of the lie detector toy. 

“Oh shit, indeed.” Felix pours a shot glass of soju for Chan, sliding it to him from the other end of the table, before pouring one for himself. “I’m drinking to that.”

“Called it.” Jisung loudly whispers to Changbin who doesn’t even seemed fazed about what had just transpired—unlike you as you suddenly feel lightheaded with this new information. “Ya, Yang Jeongin, pay up!”

“What? I’m not paying up!”

Amidst the chaos that follows and the awkward energy that seems to bounce off between you and Chan, across from you, Minho suddenly thinks of what he considers his best drunken idea yet. “Hey, since Y/N’s here, how about a chance—trade the penalty shot for a question.” He suggests to Chan, effectively silencing the table once again. “If you answer the question, the penalty shot passes on to the next person.”

Looking at Chan, he squints his eyes, deep in thought. “I mean...”

“What can you say about Chan’s answer, Y/N?” Hyunjin dramatically holds a soju bottle to your direction like a gossip reporter. Everyone immediately turns from Chan to you.

“I—Well—“ You stutter out, finally catching Chan’s gaze again. “Is it true?”

“I only had happy crushes on you before, we already talked about that.” He awkwardly laughs, a hand to the nape of his neck in embarrassment as he turns to Minho. “Okay, I answered their question, can we move on to the next person?”

A chorus of ‘what?’s and ‘no!’s erupt around the table in reply, you can even see Minho shaking his head in disapproval and tsking at Chan. 

“Well, he did answer my question.” You try to come to Chan’s defense and he sends you a grateful smile you almost missed. “And we’ve talked about this before.” 

Well, sort of, if being dead drunk and admitting to having a happy crush on each other at another party a long time ago counts.  

But Hyunjin is quick to complain. “Come on, Y/N, that can’t be your question!” Hyunjin exclaims dramatically. 

Even Jeongin nods in agreement and you’re quick to glare at him at the feeling of betrayal. “Yeah, especially not after a juicy question!” He quips as well, adding salt to the wound. “We want an explanation!”

“Jeongin! I protected you during the mafia game!” “Y/N, my money’s also on the line here!” 

"Y/N, you should ask when exactly Chan had a crush on you.” Jisung suggests before raising his voice to your pitch in a bad imitation of you, “’Chan, when exactly did you have a crush on me?’” 

“Hey!” You call him out. “I don’t sound like that!” 

“Oh, look, Y/N just asked a great question!” Changbin follows after, ignoring your complaints that follow. “Care to answer, Chan?”

You wanted to say more, maybe even slap Changbin on the back for making Chan uncomfortable, but Chan waves his electrified hand dismissively to you and Changbin. “No, it’s okay, I can answer—if it’s okay with you, of course.” 

“N—” You shake your head no but Jisung is quick again to cover your mouth and interjecting (still in a bad imitation of you), “‘Sure, Chan!’” 

You swat Jisung’s hand away after, sending said boy in a fit of drunken giggles. “Chan —”

Without missing a beat, Chan begins with “Firstly during the freshman orientation.” that immediately silences you and the entire table.

Though being an even worse drunk at the other party, that definitely wasn’t what you talked about last time. 

“Firstly? So there’s a second? Ooh, I wanna know!” Hyunjin exclaims. 

Unbeknownst to you, Chan is feeling braver tonight than the last party. He initiates eye contact this time, silently asking if he can continue. Finally giving in out of intrigue, you nod in agreement. 

one - freshman orientation (4 yrs ago)

You sat next to Chan to his left on this day, wearing a striped black and white shirt and cuffed jeans that he didn’t know was a go-to until much later, after the MC, Jae, mixed the arrangement of the people in your circle. The game instruction was simple: to provide information on the person either to your left or right when the microphone is pointed at you. As the game progresses, the questions become more random and specific and people get eliminated if their guesses aren’t witty or close enough.

“Guys, are we ready?” Jae asks through his microphone, to which everyone replies with a chorus of ‘yeah’s and ‘yes’s as energetically as possible. “Alright, I’ll give you 2 minutes to talk to your seatmates! Go!”

You turned to the person on your left and so Chan turns to his right. You didn’t really have to, he finds out after the game, since you were already familiar with Mina whom you met on the much earlier university open house, and so you spent the remaining 1 minute and 40 seconds trying to memorize basic information about Chan after.

“So, Bang Chan or Chan, music prod major, birthday October 3, and you make music on Soundcloud with your friends.” Chan nods along happily to you summarizing what he just told you. “3racha, right?”

He nods one last time before pointing at you, “And for you, Y/N Y/L/N, broadcast major, birthday on Y/B, and we have Minho as a mutual friend.

“I think we’re ready.” You raise your hand for a high-five and he immediately receives it enthusiastically. “Later, when the questions get funnier, just nod along, okay?”

At that, Chan laughs amusedly. “Sure, okay.”

And then, the game starts.

-

“You really liked me then?” You ask in bewilderment, half your face distorted behind a glass of mule Seungmin poured for you as Minho, Hyunjin, and Jisung pressure Chan for more specific details.

“Of course, I did! Why are you judging me?”

“I thought you were trying to be cheeky then!”

-

After a few rounds, the questions are now completely random without any time to ask your seatmates. Chan gets picked first by the MC.

“Left, right, left, right, left, right, Chan, what are the last 2 digits of Y/N’s phone number?” The microphone is pointed then pointed to a startled Chan. 

You better give a witty answer, you think as if sending a telepathic message to him. Cruelly, Jae’s also twisted the game so that if he didn’t accept the answers, the person whom the question is about would also get eliminated.

And as if reading your mind, he doesn’t miss a beat in answering, “I’ll think about letting you know when I do get them—and the rest—later.”

Your entire circle erupts in cheers and whistles, even you laugh at his wit. When Chan glances over to you, you make sure to slap his arm. “Yah!”

“That was witty, though, wasn’t it?”

“You’re so confident about getting my number, huh?”

“Ah, well, can I?”

At the center of your circle, Jae asks (and thus interrupting you), “Will we accept that guys?” To which he’s immediately met with agreement. “Okay, fine, fine, we’ll take it!”

Turning to Chan when the game proceeds again, you conclude, “I’ll think about that later too.”

The two of you forgot to exchange phone numbers that day but you did get each other’s Facebook through Minho afterward. Chan only got your number during your first semester break. 

“Ey, we already know this one! What’s the second one?” Changbin waves Chan’s story dismissively.

By now, the truth or shot game that instigated this mess is almost forgotten despite being at the center of the table. Everyone listens intently to Chan as he recalls what he still considers to this day his best line.

“You act as if you’re the one being questioned.” You frown in disapproval.

“Yeah ‘cause unlike Jae we’re not taking this pick-up line!” Minho counters, if you consider such drunken slur as a comeback. “What about The Gig thing?”

You shrug, “What gig thing?” while Chan only looks at Minho to continue.

-

two - ‘the gig thing’ (10 months ago)

This was a time when everybody was undeniably stressed and burned out from academics, which should have been a given to you by then in your last stretch of 3rd year. Despite your teachers’ (poor) attempts at scheduling major projects, a handful of your most important deadlines were still due after the weekend which would mark 2 weeks before your finals. For this reason, you and Chan were on videocall the entire Friday night and Saturday early morning of said weekend, responsibly making sure to start what you can on your projects to feel less guilty about booking your entire weekend for leisurely activities.

Plus, Chan barely saw you outside of his classes for the whole semester since, after classes, he’s forced to work on his practical projects in his shared dorm with 3racha. The study buddy through videocall was also (secretly) an excuse to see you on his part. 

He missed you terribly then. 

The call was mostly quiet of conversation in the beginning, the only significant noise being the sound of the two of you typing on your respective laptops, the faint music of Chan’s practical project, and your mouse occasionally clicking on random Twitter posts whenever you start feeling drowsy. It was some time after midnight, when Chan was speeding through an idea for the chorus of his song, that you came across an interesting Twitter post.

“I sent you something on Messenger.” You hold your earphones’ mic closer to your lips, gaining Chan’s attention after a 2-second delay on his part. “It’s right across the new bookstore.”

The boy in question pauses his music, opening his laptop’s Messenger to see what you’ve sent. It was a poster for a prom-themed gig at a bar and grill right outside campus on Sunday night. Like you, what immediately caught his attention was the option to actually wear prom attire.

“Oh, this is cute.” He comments, more to himself than to you, after a while before looking up at you, a relatively large icon on the corner of his laptop despite the amount of files open on his home screen. “Do you want to go?”

You nod with a hum. “It sounds really fun!”

“You mean the optional dress code sounds really fun?” Chan snickers, knowing how much you feel the least stressed when you dress up. 

“Well, it’s not just that! The line-up looks promising too! And think about it, we could’ve met on your high school prom if Minho and I weren’t feeling too lazy to go. This could be like fulfilling a parallel universe possibility!”

Chan simply chuckles, ringing your ears with his tired laughter. You can’t help but laugh as well, finding your words a bit silly—but a 2 AM-appropriate type of silly. He never judges your humor. 

“Okay, we should go. Day6 and N.Flying are performing.” He concludes, making you squeal in satisfaction that momentarily startles him. Any excuse to see them before finals, he thinks to himself. “I don’t have a proper suit, though.”

“Not like I have flashy attire in my dorm, either.” You roll your eyes with a laugh. “Just pick out something nice—for buying books and dancing! If people do show up dressing too well, we can just say our prom’s theme was vintage.”

The two of you laugh even harder.

-

“Hey, how come, I didn’t know any of this?” Seungmin complains at the mention of his favorite alumni band.

“Did you want to 3rd wheel on dumb and dumber over here?” Minho points to you and Chan. “Anyway, point is, Jisung and I caught these 2 red-handed!” 

“Red-handed of what? Listening to music?” 

On one end of the table, Felix giggles. “If Minho and Jisung caught dumb and dumber, then doesn’t that make 3rd wheel and 4th wheel? Like a car?” 

“Slow dancing!” Hyunjin dramatically gasps at this new information from an equally dramatic exclaim coming from Minho. 

-

You had no idea why Minho and Jisung came to know of this particular gig since it’s a fairly small event (not even your resident social butterfly Hyunjin knew about it), arriving 2 acts before Day6 came on stage. When they arrived (and dressed to the nines for people you haven’t seen outside a studio for the entire semester, as well), you and Chan were dancing to a cover of ‘I Love You So’ by the Walters in a crowd of mostly friend groups enjoying the music and reliving actual prom memories, making the snooping pair easily identify you. 

It wasn’t like seeing you and Chan dance closely, one of his hands on your waist while the other is picking a thumb wrestling fight with one of your own, was something different for your friend group, they were all used to it to the point of frequently confusing the 2 of you for a couple before, but Minho and Jisung had knowing smiles on their faces when they approached the 2 of you, copying your position even when the song that follows is livelier. 

“Oh, look at that, a cute couple!” Minho pretends to see you for the first time while twirling Jisung. “Chan, Y/N, we didn’t know you’d be here!” 

“We didn’t know you’d be here either.” You comment, unsure if you were mortified of being caught slow dancing with Chan just now or of the fact that it was Minho and Jisung, the 2 people who knew your past happy crush phase on Chan, of all people. 

- 

“I actually texted Minho.” Chan adds sheepishly as he recounts your ‘prom’. 

“What?” “I just asked him what to wear then I...sort of let it slip what I was dressing up for.” 

“What about Jisung?” “Oh, don’t worry Y/N, Minho invited me to snoop around.” 

- 

"Alright, continue slow dancing like an old couple then, we just came over to say hi.” Jisung then tugs Minho closer to the crowd forming right below the stage. “C’mon, Minho, they’re offering discounted drinks for couples with good outfits!” 

 “Okay, have fun you two, and leave 6 inches in between for Jesus!” You hear Minho yell at you as he’s being pulled away, making you laugh. 

“What the fuck was that?” You roll your eyes when the pair have disappeared to the nearby bar. 

At this, Chan notices the next act setting up on stage, “Oh, hey, N.Flying’s on. Do you want to get closer to the stage?” 

You follow his line of vision, seeing your favorite band greeting everyone on stage. “Oh shit, you’re right, let’s go!” 

Chan followed you around the dance floor throughout most of the night, even with Minho and Jisung coming over to dance and tease you every now and then. 

“Are you guys satisfied yet?” Chan asks, downing what remains of his soju. “Are we still even playing truth or shot?” 

“I was there so I can provide expert testimony.” Jisung hiccups on his drink. “And I think you were just hung up on what happened at the Christmas party.”

“And what are you suggesting, Sung?” You challenge him, swiping away his drink before he completely passes out. 

“That Chan had the most intense crush on you throughout Christmas break because of what you did at the party!” 

“Ugh, not that!”

-  

three - radio club christmas party (1 yr ago)

Last year, the exchange gift method on your radio club’s Christmas party was patterned to cheesy high school promposals. The dramatic the gesture, the better. It was Jisung’s idea and your alumnae moderator, Younghyun, was more than happy to back him up because it was right up his type of humor.

On the day of the Christmas party itself at the radio station’s lobby, all members huddled over a table of food and gifts, wearing questionable attires and hiding equally questionable props in their school bags. 

“Ah, I’m so embarrassed! Y/N, quick, it’s your turn!” Mina exclaims, running to you as you giggle, clutching her gift to you in your arms. At this point in the party, Jisung had just danced to all girl groups imaginable for Ryujin until she accepted his Christmas present, Ryujin had everyone (led by Mina whom she picked) on a treasure hunt around the school oval, and Mina had prepared the cheesiest tribute video imaginable documenting your friendship for the past 3 years before handing you your present.

 “Don’t worry, I loved it.” You chuckle, hugging her with your free hand while she covers her face with your other arm. Eventually, she lets you when you gesture that you need to stand up. 

You take out the signs you’ve been secretly making for the past week along with the present you’ve prepared for Chan before proceeding to your makeshift stage of the words “MERRY CHRISTMAS” in glittery buntings, a small Christmas tree decorated with any figurines but actual Christmas-related ones, and an oddly detailed portrait of Santa Clause. “I didn’t have the remaining braincells to think of something witty.” You chuckle, to which everyone follows along. “Which is especially disappointing since the person I’ve picked was being very witty when we met.” 

“But I know this person cried over Love, Actually, on last year’s Christmas party so I’m taking advantage of that.” Everyone but Chan laughs at this, already knowing that it’s him you’re referring to. 

So you turn to him, a mix of surprise, amusement, and secondhand embarrassment evident on his face, as you flip the signs you hold in time with your following words, “Christmas, love, gifts, festivities, and carols.” You cringe internally at your next words, hands visibly shaking as you flip to the last pair of signs, the one you just made (and decorated excessively) last night. “These are really pretty words but the prettiest word would be your yes when you agree to receive my gift as your Secret Santa this year.” 

Everyone bursts laughing, even you as you approach the now flustered Chan with your gift. He takes a moment to take his gift, too busy covering his reddened face as everyone else tries catching their breath, which allows you time to fan your own flushed face and calm your rapid heartbeat. 

“You have to say yes Chan!” Changbin scolds the older boy when he finally takes the gift from your hands. 

“No, it’s okay.” You wave your hand dismissively in front of the two before sitting down. 

“This is promposal-themed and you asked a yes so we need to hear a yes!” Jisung, ever the instigator of all of your troubles. 

“Chan, do you accept?” Mina asks in between laughs. 

“Y-Yes.” Chan manages to stutter out before breaking into more excited laughs. 

- 

“Ah, I think I do have to pay up.” Jeongin comments, feigning sadness. You glare at him. But then, he suddenly turns hopeful, “But then, Seungmin has to pay up too!” 

“What now this time?” You send daggers across the table to Seungmin who sips his soju with wide eyes. “Has everyone been betting on us this entire time?” 

“Just a couple...” Seungmin continues to sip on his soju slowly like he’s drinking tea. “Whether any one of you two has as ever had a serious crush on the other.” 

“Seungmin has to pay up because he thinks that you never had a serious crush on Chan because I know for a fact, as your neighbor, that you had a serious crush on Chan during that Christmas and before that.” 

“What?!” The entire table is quick to exclaim, even Chan who almost spat his drink on Minho. 

“Yah Yang Jeongin!” You hiss in an attempt to reach across the table before Changbin and Jisung managed to hold you down on your seat. 

“Tell us more, Jeongin.” Hyunjin now has his soju bottle pointed at the youngest. 

four - second year semester break (2 yrs ago)

Chan offered to help you prepare for an internship and treat you with coffee on the first day of your semester break, mostly on Changbin’s insistence since the older boy’s been cooped up in their dorms for the past month despite his deadlines being close to Christmas break. You were supposed to go home for the 2-week break, actually, but Jeongin tipped you off on a flyer he saw on his department building the other day for an internship that suited you better, the deadline of submissions being on the last day of the break. 

Plus, Changbin and Jisung needed someone to watch over Chan and make sure he’s not staying inside all the time. 

And so, the two of you sat outside the Starbuck’s inside campus, papers and laptops carefully laid around your coffee cups on the round table. You give Chan a book to occupy himself with in place of his laptop he usually looks at 24 hours a day while you worked on your internship application. 

 After a while, however, Chan decides on putting down the book to watch you fill out your form and research on the place you were applying for. 

“What?” You look up at him from your laptop. His coffee cup has been empty for a while and the book you lent him, an old copy of Pride and Prejudice, sits next to it with a bookmark halfway through. “Bored already?” 

“Do you need help?” He asks. “It’s not that Pride and Prejudice is boring, no offense, it’s just that I feel so...so idle.” 

“You sit for hours in one spot when you make music too, what gives?” You shrug with a teasing smile. 

He shrugs as well, not exactly sure of himself. “It’s like...I’m starting to have ideas while being outside but they’re not clear yet, while sitting here.” 

“Ah...” You nod understandingly. “Tell you what, I’m almost done with this actually so why don’t we go to the campus oval? Some kids play frisbee there on weekends, plus the sun’s warmest there around this time.”

“Really?” His eyes widen at the suggestion. 

You chuckle. “Sure. You need to explore around your own campus more anyway.” 

When you were finished with your papers, you took Chan to the campus oval and sat on the grass, watching some families play frisbee. 

- 

“That sounds suspiciously like a date.”  Hyunjin comments. “What can you say on this, Chan?” 

“It was a hangout.” Chan hesitantly corrects. 

“A babysitting job, more likely.” You add to which Changbin and Chan both laugh knowingly. 

- 

“So is this a date?” Chan asks you later that day. 

“You didn’t ask me out to this as a date.” You counter immediately. “Plus, I was working most of the time.” 

Chan shrugs. “But if it were, would you have considered it?” 

He was walking you back to your dorms and you realized that wording it that way (along with your current conversation) made it seem that you were just on a date, the thought suddenly lingering in your thoughts more than you wanted it to. “Maybe? I don’t know, Chan...” You conclude, trailing off. “You’re a cool person, though...”

“Should I try better next time?” “If you’re ever going to ask someone out, make sure to tell them your exact intentions, please, you’re a Libra for God’s sake.” 

That seems to diffuse the sudden tension between the two of you as Chan laughs. “Okay, noted.” 

Chan still thinks about this to this day every time he asks you to hangout alone and you vented out your conflicting feelings to Jeongin later that night. 

“Anything else, Jeongin?” Hyunjin asks. 

“Oh, hey, I remember something!” Changbin exclaims. “How could we miss Chan’s birthday from 3 years ago?” 

- 

five - chan’s birthday (3 yrs ago) 

You’ve never heard of the paranoia game until Chan’s birthday when Minho suggested it and called on all of Chan’s guests to participate. “Rules are simple.” The unofficial MC announced over his bottle of soju like a microphone. “I start by picking out someone and asking them a question in private. They answer by choosing another person then we do a coin flip if the person I asked reveals the question or not. And it goes on and on and on!” 

The game does goes on and on but it only seemed endless because every time Minho flipped a coin, it would always land on the choice to not reveal the question, frustrating everyone to no end. 

“This game should have some drama but the drama’s not coming.” Sana frowns next to you while Felix whispers something in Chan’s ear at the center of the circle. 

“I know.” You agree, that is, until you see Chan approaching you from the corner of your eye. 

He extends a hand out to help you stand up. Behind him, everyone cheers for a reason you weren’t aware then (only to later find out that almost everyone you knew confused the two of you for a couple). So, reluctantly, you accept his hand, standing up and following him to the center of the circle without even noticing that he didn’t let go of your hand until Minho tossed a coin. 

“Ah, goddamn it!” Minho groans. “Stupid coin doesn’t want to reveal the stupid questions!” 

“Ey, everyone knows what the question is anyway.” Changbin dismisses. 

“I don’t know.” You mutter under your breath which Chan immediately catches. 

“Ah, you don’t have to know.” He hurriedly tells you with flushes cheeks. 

- 

“We didn’t miss that, fool, that was what Chan and Y/N were talking about when they said they’ve talked about this before.” Seungmin points out. 

You shake your head disapprovingly, “Okay, I’ve had enough. Can we talk about something else?” You push the lie detector toy to Minho. “Since you started this mess, come on, Lee, I dare you.” 

epilogue - chan’s birthday party (3 yrs ago)

The party was slowly dying down at around 3:15 AM, when your Uber messaged you in the middle of an intimate conversation with your friends. “My Uber’s here.” You announce softly over the acoustic music playing from Changbin’s phone, standing up afterwards to straighten out your attire. Turning to Chan you add, “I’m heading out, happy birthday again, Chan.” 

“Wait, let me see you out.” The birthday boy in question follows your actions after.

“You don’t have to.” “I insist, it’s late and there could be creeps out on the street.”

He sends you a persistent look and you give in tiredly. “Okay, fine. Let’s go.” The group then proceeds to bid you goodbye in hugs and ‘goodnight’s before Chan escorts you out of his dorm. 

You reach the elevator in no time, finding its lights harsh against the soft light of the hallway your eyes have been accustomed to throughout your walk. 

“Thanks for coming, by the way.” Chan decides to speak up once the elevator door closes. His dorm is on the topmost floor, the elevator ride down taking around 3 minutes since the elevator itself’s already rusty and has a tendency to stop on floors for no reason. 

"Of course.” You nod. “Wouldn’t want to miss out on Seungmin’s first alcoholic drink.” 

Chan laughs with you at this but both of you can unconsciously agree that there was an awkward tension in the air. “Listen, about the paranoia game a while ago...” He starts, trailing off when you finally turn your head towards his direction. 

You pretend to be nonchalant about it, shrugging, “What about it?” 

“It just seems like the question Felix asked me bothers you.” 

You try to smile reassuringly. “I’m sure Felix doesn’t talk shit about me behind my back...unless of course he told you something embarrassing then that would be a different story!” 

The elevator dings! and opens on the wrong floor. Chan is quick to press on the lobby button again. “Well, since it’s just us...he just asked me to pick the person whom I have a happy crush on.” 

He said it casually as he can, with the best attempt he had of ignoring his rapid heartbeat and clammy hands, almost missing the way your eyes widened in the brief silence that followed.

“Y-You? Have a crush on me?” You repeated in disbelief, a bit breathless for no reason. “Wow...” 

“Yeah but it’s just a happy crush, though!” He’s quick to clarify, hands waving frantically around while he speaks. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” 

“No, no, it’s cool, it’s cool.” You assure him, cringing internally at repeating your words. “I had a happy crush on you too some time ago so it’s...it’s cool.” 

“Really?” You nod at his question. 

“I don’t have a happy crush on you now, though, if that’s what you’re thinking.” You chuckle awkwardly. 

Finally, the elevator door opens to the lobby. You quickly step out. 

“I think it’d be weird.” You add, though deep inside you knew it felt weird saying that out loud. “Similar friend groups and all.” 

Chan nods in agreement. “Right! Right.” 

“So...this is me, unless you want to escort me to the Uber?” You call for your Uber driver’s attention, signalling for him that you’ll be there in a second. “I’ll just text you the plate number and everything in case something happens.” 

“Okay.” He nods again. “Go home safe and remember to text me.” 

“Yup! Goodnight, Chan.” You smile at him one last time, though it feels heavy somehow (it still does to this day). “Happy birthday...well, belated.” 

“Thanks.” He returns your smile. “Goodnight, too.” 

When you arrived home, you made sure to text Chan again with a goodnight message and a happy birthday, ending it with the sloppy ‘I hope we’re still good friends after this’ remark that you’ve long deleted from your phone history. 

Of course, Chan read and re-read this message until morning.

[dinosaurtsukki]

❀ promises | “a house by the sea for the two of us, that’s what i want” feat. iwaizumi hajime + pacific rim AU

⇢ day 10 of angstcember

⇢ synopsis: you knew the risks that came with the job when you agreed to co-pilot a jaeger with iwaizumi, even more so when you two grew close. every time you get sent out on a mission, you wonder if both of you would be coming back

⇢ content warnings: character death, suicide attack

⇢ a/n: so, back in the day (probs 2015) i was reading this notoriously long and famous hq!! pacific rim AU and it was amazing so i wanted to write my own (it’s nowhere near the quality of that fic tho but i tried ;-;)

⇢ pairing: iwaizumi hajime x f!reader

⇢ word count: 2.5k words

ANGSTCEMBER MASTERLIST (feat. haikyuu!! and bungou stray dogs)

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nothing else in the world could compare to the feeling of co-piloting a jaeger. you always remember the first time you saw one up close: all metal and weapons as far as the eye could see, being dropped into the ocean to fight off a kaiju. it looked invincible, it looked like humankind’s problems all solved. 

co-piloting one was absolutely nerve-wracking. just the idea of being able to control a large weapon of that size with your mind and have it imitate your body movements sent your head spinning. even now, as you made it move across the ocean towards where the kaiju was, you still felt that unease.

“hey, don’t act like this is the first time you’re doing this,” iwaizumi’s voice and thoughts interrupted you. he flashed you a cocky grin, shaking you out of your thoughts.

of course, you weren’t doing it alone. a jaeger could never be piloted alone, both in the physical and mental sense. “sorry, just had something on my mind,” you chuckled nervously.

“yeah, well the sooner you get that out of your mind, the sooner we’ll be able to beat this thing and still be able to get something to drink later,” iwaizumi, your co-pilot and lover winked at you.

“is alcohol always on your mind, iwaizumi?” you teased.

“you know for a fact it isn’t, l/n,” he grinned. you smiled, squaring your shoulders in-sync with iwaizumi as your jaeger stood before the prowling category 3 kaiju. 

“let’s do this thing.” 

...

“what did you say, cadet?” 

“i said, i can beat you in five moves,” you retorted, jutting your chin up as you stared straight into the eyes of iwaizumi hajime, one of the youngest jaeger pilots who also happened to be your trainer.

“i’d like to see you try,”  he narrowed his eyes at you before jerking his head in the direction of the training mat in the center used for sparring matches. you strode to your end of the mat and got into fighting stance. it wasn’t that you didn’t respect iwaizumi, quite the opposite actually, but you were eager to prove yourself, eager to get recruited to become a co-pilot. 

and besides, as someone who had to fight every single day when your town was destroyed, you were confident in your skills.

but so was iwaizumi, who had been a cadet when he was just a teenager and a pilot when he hit eighteen. he had fought people and kaijus alike and expected that he would make you eat your words seconds into your sparring match. 

what neither of you expected was that you would be trading blows, without ever landing a single hit, for quite some time. it came to a point that not only the cadets but other officers nearby came to watch the match unfold. suddenly, both of you were stopped by the captain and head of the base.

while you felt a sudden rush of adrenaline at his approving gaze, iwaizumi felt as if a weight was dropped in his stomach. there was a chance that you two were drift-compatible.

...

“let’s finish him off!” iwaizumi exclaimed. 

“you read my mind!” you grinned as the two of you raised your jaeger’s plasma cannon and aimed it at the badly wounded kaiju. there was a loud hum and the crackle of electricity as the plasma cannon charged before firing a shot. you watched with a smile on your face as the kaiju was blown to pieces across the ocean.

“well, that’s that then,” iwaizumi said. 

“good work you two,” your captain’s voice crackled over the radio. “as expected of miyagi base’s best duo.” 

“we have to come up with a flashier name,” you told iwaizumi as you two maneuvered your jaeger back to base. “i mean, that just sounds like a mouthful and not nearly as fear-striking.” 

“oh yeah?” iwaizumi raised an eyebrow at you. “how about the miyagi demons?” 

“why demons? aren’t we supposed to be helping people?” 

“yeah but from the kaiju’s perspective, we’re the demons.” 

“i don’t know if they’re capable of having that opinion,” you snorted. 

“hmm, miyagi menaces!” iwaizumi said proudly, causing you to laugh. 

“you are such a dork, you know that?” 

“shut up, i don’t see you coming up with cool names,” he pouted. 

“we have the rest of the night to come up with all the cool names,” you smiled, visibly relaxing now that the entire ordeal was over. even though it was an honorable job, being a jaeger pilot meant that whenever you and iwaizumi went out on a mission, there was a chance that you wouldn’t come back. you had lost too many friends and acquaintances along the way from kaiju attacks and each time you and iwaizumi made it home only felt like you had prolonged your death date. if it wasn’t today, it was going to be on another day.

‘but not today,’ you smiled to yourself as you and iwaizumi headed back to base. only, you were suddenly interrupted by your captain’s voice on the radio.

“l/n, iwaizumi! our signals have picked up something new!” he exclaimed. you felt iwaizumi’s panic first hand as you two quickly turned around to find the spot where you had just killed the category 3 kaiju turn red, meaning another was about to surface. 

“a double attack?!” you verified, hoping you were wrong.

“i-it wasn’t in the prediction,” your captain replied. “some kind of anomaly or the enemy just getting smarter.”

“either way, we still have to kill it, right?” iwaizumi growled, hefting the plasma cannon up. 

“i don’t feel good about this...” you murmured as you two got into stance.

“neither do i,” iwaizumi said through gritted teeth. “but i’ll make sure you get back home in one piece. i promise.” 

“alright,” you nodded, smiling a tight-lipped smile at him before turning your attention to the kaiju that rose to the surface. this one was much bigger than the one you had just faced before, probably twice the size of the jaeger you were in. and to make matters worse, you could tell that it’s entire body was covered with armor plating and it had a long tail with spikes on the end.

with your thoughts connected to iwaizumi’s, you could feel even his unease wash over you like a wave. who knew if either of you were going to make it?

...

it was the drifting that you were worried about. almost anybody could train themselves physically in preparation to become a jaeger pilot, but very few had what it takes to expose themselves mentally with someone else. it was easier for people who were siblings or lovers or best friends, but you and iwaizumi didn’t know each other prior to your first meeting. even after you two were forced to share a living space in the base so that you two would get closer.

but you and iwaizumi were guarded with your own demons that you were reluctant to expose to the other. the first time you tried drifting, neither of you were willing to open your minds and ended up with both of you getting kicked out of the drift. 

which was why you and iwaizumi finally decided to sit down inside your shared bedroom to have a little sharing session. you couldn’t help but laugh when he suggested it but both of you knew just how much you needed this. it was either that, or pass on the role of co-piloting to other cadets.

“okay, i guess i’ll be the one to start,” you exhaled, gripping the sheets under you for comfort as you told iwaizumi how you ended up in the co-piloting program. you lived in a town near the coast and when the kaiju started showing up, it was one of the first ever places that was hit. nobody was prepared, especially not you. 

“i’m sorry,” iwaizumi whispered as you recounted how you were running through the city, pushing past the crowds, only to turn around to see that your parents who were supposed to be right behind you were lying in a crumpled heap on the ground.

“all the more reason to fight them, you know? so less people end up like me,” you shrugged. “you... don’t have to open up again if you don’t want to.” after all, iwaizumi and his former co-pilot, oikawa tooru, had been quite famous back in the day for being young, amazing jaeger pilots. that is, until they faced a category five kaiju with a broken plasma cannon. 

you still couldn’t forget the sight of the kaiju punching a hole through the jaeger, through the pilot’s chamber. you could only imagine how it felt like for iwaizumi.

“it was... intense,” he exhaled, his brow furrowing. “one minute he was just there and the next, the drift connection had completely disappeared but i could just feel him leave. luckily i was able to activate the escape pod.”

“we’ll fight them,” you said, resting your hand over his. “together. we’ll fight as many of them as we can.” 

for the first time in a while, you and iwaizumi had come to a mutual understanding. iwaizumi had a legitimate reason for not wanting to be in the pilots’ chamber again, so you wanted to make it worth it.

...

you were living right in your worst nightmare. 

fighting category five kaijus was nearly impossible without some form of back-up. the miyagi base sent in their jets to fire bombs at the kaiju but with its armor plating, it had little to no effect. your only hope was aiming at the kaiju’s underbelly, but even that was difficult.

your own jaeger was beat up, thanks to the kaiju’s tail and from sustaining a flurry of hits. “brace yourself!” iwaizumi yelled as the kaiju closed its jaws around your jaeger’s right arm and using it to haul you up and toss you to the side. the force of the impact was absolutely jarring and it felt as if your entire head was scrambled.

“y/n! are you alright?” you heard iwaizumi call out to you. the side of his head was bleeding after you were both thrown against the back of the pilot’s chamber. luckily, you were both still strapped into your suits and still very much in the drift. you both got to your feet to find the kaiju still prowling towards you, taking its sweet time.

“how are we going to beat this thing?” your voice shook, knowing that iwaizumi could feel your hopelessness. your mind through the memories of earlier that day: you and iwaizumi eating cereal while watching TV, watering the little succulent you kept by the window, eating and joking around with some of your friends at the base, iwaizumi giving you a quick kiss before you both suited up. was this going to be your last memories?

“hey. we’ll be alright,” iwaizumi said aloud, looking at you with a soft smile on his face. you wondered how he could even smile like that in this situation. “i promised, didn’t i?” 

you nodded slowly. as a jaeger pilot, you were always prepared to die when you went out on new missions. and if that meant going down fighting, hopefully taking the kaiju down with you, with the man you loved, you were prepared to do just that.

...

it wasn’t that rare for couples to end up as jaeger co-pilots, or for co-pilots to end up as couples. but that only made it all the more tragic whenever one or both of them died during a mission. you knew fellow co-pilots who had postponed their weddings only for them to die, or for one co-pilot to be driven mad after losing their partner. it was enough to deter you from having feelings for iwaizumi, but not completely.

because of your drift connection, it didn’t take long for either of you to discover your feelings for each other. after a particularly hard mission where both of you almost died, iwaizumi ended up confessing to you in the changing room after you both departed your jaeger. 

and seeing that it was impossible for you to be apart from each other, both of you gave in.

“do you think we would have met if it weren’t for the kaijus and the jaeger program?” you asked one night while the two of you were in bed, your head laying on his chest. 

“i like to think that we do,” iwaizumi chuckled, running his hand through your hair. “maybe we’d meet each other in high school or university or something.” 

“what would you have wanted to be?” 

“a sports trainer,” iwaizumi said softly. “i was actually into playing sports back then. how about you?” 

“i wanted to own a flower shop,” you chuckled.

“you? a flower shop?” 

“don’t laugh!” you smacked his arm lightly. 

“you’d make a wonderful florist,” your boyfriend laughed and kiss you on the forehead. “maybe i’d run into you while buying flowers for my mom on mother’s day.” 

“and i’d definitely remember the large, muscular guy who entered my shop,” you giggled. “do you think it’s possible? for things to go back to normal? for us to actually survive this whole thing?”

“i don’t know,” iwaizumi replied honestly. “but i know what i want: a house by the sea for the two of us, that’s what i want.” 

...

“i’m sorry, y/n.” 

that was the last thing you could feel him think before iwaizumi kicked you out of the drift, sending you reeling. the kaiju was approaching and fast. 

“hajime! what are you doing?!” you panicked, turning to look at him but his brow was furrowed in concentration as he manipulated a few buttons on his controller. he was piloting the jaeger by himself. before you could say anything else or force yourself back into the drift, you felt yourself being pulled back by the security straps attached to your suit. you recognized the sensation back from when you were still in co-pilot training practicing the emergency protocols for evacuation.

evacuation.

with sudden horror, you realized what iwaizumi was planning, what he planned all along, to do.

“captain? i’ve initiated emergency evacuation for l/n,” you heard him speak into the radio. “please, please make sure to get to their escape pod.”

“understood, iwaizumi,” your captain’s voice crackled over the speakers. “we can’t thank you enough for your bravery and sacrifice.” 

“no! hajime don’t! let me stay! let me do this with you,” you screamed even as you were loaded into the escape pod. 

“sorry, y/n,” you finally heard him speak. it was as if time had slowed down as he turned to look at you once more. you didn’t want to believe that this was going to be the last time you would see iwaizumi’s face ever again. you would never wake up next to him in bed or eat cereal from the same bowl or dream about a future that you knew now you could never have.

“i... i don’t want to go back if you’re not coming with me,” you said.

“i know it’s going to be hard but, try to live well, alright?” iwaizumi said and pressed the button, fully ejecting your pod out of the jaeger before you could say anything else. your screams filled the escape pod as you hammered against it uselessly, even as the kaiju descended on the jaeger with its lone pilot before iwaizumi pressed the self-destruct button.

you’ve always hated funerals, having gone to far too many of them. especially when the deceased co-pilot’s partner was there to receive any medals of honor in their place. that was the first thing you thought of as the people in the base helped you out of your escape pod, offering messages of sympathy for your loss. because of his sacrifice, iwaizumi was surely going to be granted quite a lot of medals with you receiving them in his place. as if they could be enough to make up for the space in your bed and the house by the sea that would forever stay empty. 

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[pekorosu]

just a lil “if ash lived” headcanon that i need to unload somewhere bc i've been holding it in for a long time

- set within the manga ‘verse

- takes place when ash and eiji are in their early 30s... so around the mid 1990s?

- i don’t get the weird animanga trope where older = longer hair, so they’re gonna look the same... maybe with slightly shorter hair bc they get regular haircuts now 

- (note: i've always interpreted long-haired eiji as symbolic of the fact that he couldn't move on from ash’s death)

- ash and eiji will continue living in the states, idk if still in NYC or somewhere else. they’ll move around a lot though.

- ash will mostly remain underground as he had to fake his death after lao’s stab, but he does it in a "hiding in plain sight" kind of way. only a handful of people know he’s still alive.  

- ash spends most of his time on the computer, mostly coding, hacking, being a nerd, among other fun stuff.

- he also takes on “jobs” anonymously, and occasionally from max (who’s still into investigative journalism) when he needs info that can only be obtained through Dubious Means.

- i also like to think that ash's a bit of a hacker robin hood lol. but he isn’t doing it purely out of the goodness of his heart, as part of it is a subconscious need to atone for his “sins” and cleanse the gnawing and persistent feeling of shame that gets amplified when he’s around eiji.

- also whatever he’s up to these days would ofc still be Highly Dangerous and Illegal, but it keeps him busy and would sate the part of him that’s still hungry for adrenaline without him having to engage in stuff like active bloodshed or substance abuse. basically that’s how i imagine he’d try to cope with life the only way he knows.

- eiji continues to do photography and other part time gigs bc he does not like the idea of mooching off ash forever, and he slowly makes a name for himself.

- ash and eiji live together but they are NOT together in a romantic sense... not yet >:)

- therefore eiji will probably date other people in the meantime, which gets a little troublesome bc it's not like he can bring them home to where his secret Very Important Friend is secretly hiding.

- ash will maybe have one-night stands every now and then. or not. idk. this isn’t a very important detail.

- anyway there will be lots of clueless but mutual pining :)

- ash especially, is of the opinion that they should start living separately bc someone will eventually track him down, maybe someone who has a past or present grudge on him. combined with his current activities, it’s only a matter of time before eiji would unwittingly get dragged into his problems again.

- eiji is v adamantly against that plan bc he's sorta developed a debilitating sense of paranoia that ash might just get killed somewhere while he’s not looking. not that ash isn’t paranoid either, but his insecurities often tip the scale over to “eiji is safer away from me” than “with me”.

- basically they’re doing their whole “stay. no, leave. no, stay” dance all over again, but like, dragged out over MANY YEARS.

- you thought eiji’s letter would’ve cleared up any crossed wires? 

- HELL NO

- like yea, there was probably a beautiful honeymoon period of about a year or two after they reunited, before their respective trauma and issues started creeping in and fucking things up again.

- esp on ash’s end, i think he’d engage in a lot of self-sabotage. and eiji is only human, he has his own limits and baggage too.

- there will be a government conspiracy plotline but on a smaller scale compared to canon that i am unfortunately not knowledgeable enough to worldbuild on, but it will probably have something to do with cybercrime/cyberterrorism/stuff like that bc it needs to tie in with ash's hacking shenanigans.

- i've heard that sing ends up becoming some sorta political big shot in yasha? idk, i haven't read it myself, but since china’s rising status was mentioned in GoL i imagine the plot should relate to that somehow.

- therefore sing would also get to be in this story! 

- i guess this means yut-lung would come into the picture at some point as well, and it would be a good opportunity for a redemption arc but i haven’t given it much of a thought bc i’m indifferent to his character orz SORRY.

- look i can’t do plot, but i am basically envisioning a political thriller with a side of slow burn romance (wait, you mean like a rehash of canon?)

- i’m thinking max is the one who kicks off the story by bringing something fishy to ash, and they just end up uncovering more and more and MORE stuff as they keep going.

- so for like 80% of the story, ash and eiji will be separated bc ash will be busy spying or infiltrating something... and being at the center of Plot Things, while max and eiji will be more on the outside dealing with the journalist side of things. i’m fond of max-ash interactions but i’m also REALLY CURIOUS about max-eiji’s dynamic :D

- meanwhile sing will be like, half in and half out i imagine. he's versatile like that lol

- ...i did NOT mean that in a dirty way

- anyway, this will provide ash and eiji ample space to work out their issues separately, as i think living in close quarters for so many years has actually been aggravating them. ofc those issues don’t get 100% resolved by the end, but some time apart from each other to cool off and spend with other people should provide a bit of perspective.

- i want ash to make some NEW FRIENDS (!!!) that are on the same wavelength as him bc there’s only so much that he can tell eiji and i’m sure he gets rather lonely, so there will be OCs that he will meet in the middle of Plot Things.

- ash will get trapped at some point. preferably with sing so they can have a much needed heart-to-heart talk. they’ll have a lot to hash out, ranging from the events in BF, shorter’s and lao’s death, all the way to ash’s love life. 

- btw i like the idea of eiji and sing being close drinking buddies who confide in one another but ash is kinda, justalittle, not very happy about that LOL 

- i mean, it's not like eiji can confide in ash when ash is the topic at hand, ya get me? as for sing, he’s similar to ash in the sense that they live dangerous lives, so i imagine he just finds it nice to be able to hang out with someone mundane like eiji every now and then.

- not to say that ash and sing aren’t talking to each other at all, but i think they’d have a bit of a rift between them. sing probably does feel some resentment, both at ash for killing lao AND at himself bc he knows deep down that given a choice, he would’ve saved ash over his own brother. ash can sense that tortured vibe, so eiji’s like their middle man. AND THAT’S WHY THEY NEED A HEART-TO-HEART TALK

- (SIDE NOTE: i want akira to have a role in this too. i actually have a separate headcanon that happens prior to this story... kinda like an alternate GoL? 

akira goes to the states to visit eiji, but ash is also there, yeah? akira and ash start out sorta prickly with each other bc ash is all weird and standoffish and always cooped up in his room. she probably mistook him as a jobless model mooching off eiji at first since 1) eiji and ibe have never spoken about him back in japan (cuz he’s supposed to be dead), 2) why would eiji be living with some random hot guy? unless they met during one of his photography gigs? right??? 

and then she ends up witnessing them in the middle of a tiff, which makes her not like ash even more bc HOW DARE HE YELL AT POOR OKUMURA-SAN??? UNGRATEFUL JERK!!!

but over the course of her visit, she snoops around learns a bit about their history and gathers hints as to why their r’ship is kinda strained. also ash and akira somehow end up bonding (reluctantly) over their emotional insecurities and part on a friendly rivalry to win over eiji’s affections (which eiji is completely oblivious to. also akira may have been 100% serious but ash was just jokingly playing along with her (OR WAS HE???)). anyway long story short, ash teaches akira some cool tech/IT stuff along the way so that leads to her gaining an interest in the field. 

she won’t be able to do much in this story, but a minor role would be cool :)

 ^ a lighthearted gyoza-making scene amid all the angst)

- (SIDE NOTE #2: i ALSO want cain to feature in this, but bc canon provided very little bg info on him it’s hard for me to figure out where he’d fit. but i suppose that’s precisely why it would be great to include him, since i can just make up my own backstory! lol. for now, i think he should be connected to one of the new OCs to make him more central to the plot. or heck, he can be involved himself! ...yeah, i’m just salty about how cain was treated more like a convenient plot device compared to the other major side characters. we barely know anything about him even though he was one of ash’s most trusted allies. #caindeservedbetter2k20)

- anyway, back to the main story. ash (and his new "friends") barely escape where they’re held hostage. ash would be rusty with combat now as he’s spent the past few years doing only stealth work and being rather sedentary. 

- so there’ll be lotsa old man!ash jokes like them poking fun at him whenever he complains about his back hehe

- when they finally emerge outside they find themselves in the middle of nowhere! they then hijack a passing pickup truck and do a roadtrip back to civilisation. ROAD TRIP FTW

- at this point, quite some time has already passed and ash even has a fuzzy beard and mane and all. he’s standing at the back of the truck with a small smile on his face and the wind blowing in his hair, thinking GONNA GO BACK AND SEE EIJI, MISS HIM LOADS, HELL YEA 

- (bonus: this song and this scene is the catalyst for this entire headcanon btw)

(drew this about a year ago. i was trying to imitate the manga’s art style... and the ash i had in my mind was a little different. i’m too lazy to redraw, but he’s fuzzier now okay! MORE FUZZ! like an actual freakin LION!)

- meanwhile, eiji and max will get into some deep shit around this point? 

- eiji in the pic above was me imagining that the Bad Guys had tossed some damning evidence (eg. severed body part?) on the ground like “ash’s dead/ash’s in a lot of danger now so hand over all the info u have”

- and eiji and max are like. SHOOKETH

- this would be the 3rd time ash has “died” after all, and as they say... 3rd time's the charm...

- eiji almost gives in, but then max spits in their face like fuck no and then... yeah. they get beat up and taken away or something lol

- EDIT: hmm... what if the Bad Guy is someone IN the government, and he uses his power to get eiji and max arrested for aiding and abetting a wanted fugitive (ash). and then ash has to rescue them... JAILBREAK STYLE

- also it might be cool to introduce ash's mom somewhere in this story... maybe SHE'S the villain! mwahaha *drama intensifies*

- anyways they will get saved by ash and gang bc that’s just the way things go, BUT! only on the condition they already made it out at least 80% of the way bc GODDAMN IT👏LET👏EIJI👏BE👏BADASS👏FOR👏ONCE👏 

- (that is, after he overcomes the initial shock of ash possibly being dead again... again...... again............)

- there will ofc be moments of “oh my god, you’re okay” "i thought i lost you...!"

- something like this, because one can never have enough cheesy reunion scenes

- this will eventually lead to REVELATIONS (of the romantic kind, yes) 

- buuuut they will never say "i love you" directly to each other bc ash is too emotionally constipated and eiji is too japanese. it's okay, they will communicate it through heated stares 👀

- i would love for there to be a scene where they have to be separated again for Plot Reasons and ash sorta hesitantly goes all "...will you wait for me?" as a direct parallel to canon!eiji's "i'll be waiting" and it’s like,

- FINALLY! 

- FINALLY!!!!!!!!!! ash has finally allowed himself to ask for this, to let himself want it! 

- and eiji would be like OF COURSE I WILL YOU BIG DUMMY, ALWAYS AND FOREVER

- but i think it'd be hilarious if eiji pops up while ash's in the middle of the final showdown and ash's like WTF I TOLD YOU TO WAIT FOR ME and eiji's like I WAS WORRIED OKAY YOU WERE TAKING SO LONG

- idk how this is supposed to end...

- oh wait! since the plot is government-related, maybe Someone will be able to pull strings to wipe out ash’s criminal record (past and present) and give him a brand new 100% legal identity, as thanks for his efforts? or maybe ash (or sing) just does it himself somewhere along the way LOL. anyway, he’ll be able to start over with a fresh clean slate and finally work on recovery FOR REAL NOW. yes this is a happy ending AND it didn’t require him to go to japan /flips off canon

- ...i realise it’s never going to be that simple but W H A T E V E R

- (also they probably will visit japan in the future with that shiny new passport... gotta meet the in-laws and all y’know)

- who do i gotta pay to write this cheesy self-indulgent fic for me

[sheabuttahwrites]

[I Know]

. five : two and a possible

four

I finished up my ‘morning’ routine and walked back over to sit next to him, finally ready to eat something. “I'm hungry. What we having?”

“Oh shit!” 

“What?”

“I forgot to get food.”

I tilted my head, my features overtaken by displeasure. “You’ve been eating hella takeout, huh? You know that’s not good.” We’d had this conversation a couple times before. He was generally a healthy guy, but his diet could be so trash at times. 

“I mean, I was. But I’ve been at my mom’s house eating Thanksgiving leftovers the past few days.”

I snorted. “You are such a man,” I playfully huffed, shaking my head.

“I’ma do better,” he mumbled listlessly with a laugh. “You can order something, though. I’ll pick some stuff up tomorrow after my last meeting.”

“Ok. We can just get pizza. That cool?”

“Yeah. ”

“You got dessert at least?”

He stared at the wall in deep thought, his mouth doubtfully agape. “ …I think I have ice cream?”

“Ok.” I left my seat with the kitchen in mind solely because of the obvious lack of confidence he had just displayed. “Come look with me.”  

“What?” The presence of a frown was more than apparent on his face.   

“Come with me,” I insisted, unfazed. 

“For what? You aren’t a guest anymore.”

“I am, too.” Now I was frowning. 

“No, you're not. You know where the kitchen is, the pantry, the fridge; you know where everything is,” he listed candidly, but stood to his feet anyway.  

“So. You don't have to be rude.” I rolled my eyes, turning to walk out with him in tow. I’d had to hide the smile trying to creep onto my face. I loved messing with him. 

He smacked his lips, clearly agitated, and I couldn't hold my laughs. “I’m coming, woman.”

We stepped into his kitchen and I pulled the freezer drawer open, searching for the ice cream I had sort of been promised? Curious, I paused to look in the refrigerator. Other than a few bottles of water, a carton of eggs, a couple carryout plates and various condiments, there wasn’t much inside. “Damn, you weren't lying. Ain’t shit in here.”

“I told you.”

I laughed as I closed the doors and went back to the freezer. I moved a bag of broccoli to the side, then a bag of pineapple chunks. “Found it,” I gleefully announced, lifting the pint of vanilla Haagen Dazs. I removed the top and the seal was still there. Perfect. I turned to show him just as he was coming out of the pantry.

“Here’s some stuff my sister had.” He held up a box of fudge brownie mix in one hand and an unopened bottle of vegetable oil in the other. 

“Oh, hell yeah,” I approved with a satisfied nod, before putting the ice cream away. That was right up my alley.

He chuckled, shaking his head, as he sat them both on the counter. I walked over and slid them closer to me. “I swear you a junkie.”

“Glucose gang ‘til I die, cuz.”

“You bangin’ sugar?” I looked up at him and we fell out almost immediately. I leaned over onto the marble in front of me, cracking all the way up while he stood beside me doing the same. “You got a problem.”

“Nah, that’s why I’m so sweet.” I winked and stuck my tongue out before laughing a little harder. He just grinned at me, his eyes slightly narrowed. “Now, go order the pizza,” I snappily instructed, waving him off and pulling out one of the chairs at the island.

“That wasn't sweet at all.”

I took a seat and pompously crossed my legs, clutching my knee with laced hands and being sure to keep my eyes away from him, even as I spoke. “This is just payback for making me spend the day by myself tomorrow.” 

He smacked his lips. “Girl, hush.” He was so serious I couldn't help but laugh, but also don’t be telling me to hush. He went to leave and I reached out to push him. The joke was on me, though, because he had gotten too far. All I had done was push air and almost fallen out of my chair. “Look at you. So sweet I don’t know what I’ma do with you.” 

I snorted. “Shut up.”

“You feel like baking for real, though? I need one of them fire ass strawberry cheesecakes.”

“I got you, babe. You know I always feel like baking.”

“Bet. Text me a list so I can get the stuff tomorrow.”

“Ok.”

He came back with his laptop and credit card, settling in the seat next to mine. Normally this part would take a while, because one of us—me—would have a time trying to figure out what they wanted. But that wasn’t the case today. I was starving and my pizza order didn't usually get too complicated anyway. I quickly decided on pepperoni and green peppers, and he went with chicken and spinach. I couldn't wait to eat some of mine and his. 

“So… how has it been? How are you?”

I shrugged my shoulder, taking my focus to my hands down on the counter. I really didn't want to talk about this. Honestly, it was the furthest thing from my mind. But I knew he was probably worried. “…Ok, I guess. I’ve been good.”

“Have things gotten any better? Be honest.” 

I looked up, seeing the care and concern that I always saw in his eyes. And that shit made it extremely hard for me to lie to him. I wasn’t a good liar either. So, I shook my head. It had actually gotten much worse since the last time he and I saw each other. But, that part, I had to keep to myself. “Not really. Just the same ol’, same ol’.” 

His gaze never left me, but he didn’t speak another word. Probably just didn’t have anything to say. I could definitely understand.

At this point my only concern was her wellbeing. I couldn't give anymore advice, because I had long tapped out. It had all been falling on deaf ears anyway. We’d known each other for about a year and a half now, and nothing had changed. I didn't mean to judge her, but she seemed content just where she was. Content with disarray. In my eyes, her reasons for staying were bullshit. Because love damn sure wasn't keeping her. Love wouldn't be doing half the shit she was enduring. It certainly wouldn't have her going into another man’s home just to get away. 

Nah.

Love is what had me making accommodations every sixty days for a woman who wasn't mine. It’s what had me turning down the advances of other women when I didn't have to. It’s the five hundred dollar mixer and numerous other baking supplies in my kitchen that I don't even use. It’s what kept me up at night asking myself what the fuck I was doing, and actually attempting to justify it. Love is me throwing everything reasonable, and everything sensible, and everything rational, and everything logical out the window when I knew better.

I felt like it was time for me to make a choice. For my own good if nothing else. Without question, things just weren't gonna work themselves out. I needed to start using my better judgment. It was on me, because she wasn't moving. I needed to take myself out of the picture. I knew this, but it was hard as hell to even think about. A sign from God is what I really needed. Soon. Because I felt that my next move was about to be a mistake no matter what. I hated to admit it, but I was getting tired of going to pick her up every time that ungrateful ass nigga left, having so much fun with her, and then taking her back to him. I wanted her. So fucking bad. And I knew the feeling was mutual. But being on the sidelines of her life was slowly breaking me. I had to accept that whatever I was to her now was likely all I would ever be. Equally, I couldn't stand seeing her allow someone to treat her so poorly when she was worth so much more. I just wish that I had been able to make her understand that. I wish all of it could've gone differently. 

“So, what you been up to?” she quietly asked, breaking the silence.

“Not much. Just working, the occasional event, linking with my boys. You know, the usual.”

“Any new possibles?” She couldn't even get it out before her lips started to form a grin. This was what she had really meant by her previous question. She always found a way to work it into the conversation. And each time was less cunning than the last, even though she was for sure trying to be slick. 

“Oh, of course.”

“Ewww,” she drawled, simultaneously smiling and scrunching her face in disgust. I chuckled. 

“What?”

“‘Oh, of course’!”

I dropped my head, laughing at her exaggerated imitation of me. I did not sound like that. “I'm just saying. Women love the king.”

“Oooh. You weren't this cocky the last time I saw you,” I teased lightheartedly, clutching my imaginary pearls. He was so tickled.

“I’m joking.”

“Nah, you're serious.”

“I know what I bring to the table, but I'm not over feeling myself.”

“I hear you, homie.”

He cut his eyes at me as I kept up my production of faux amazement. “You get on my nerves so bad, Jay.”

I grabbed his shoulder and leaned over on him, laughing too hard. Yeah, I was picking, but I couldn’t be mad. He was telling the truth. Women did indeed love his ass. Whenever we were out, I would catch them staring constantly. A couple of them had even had the gumption to approach him. But seeing him interact with the women who actually knew him, the women in his family, I could just feel it. They really loved him. His mom, his best friend’s mom, his little sister and a cousin were the ones I’d had the opportunity to witness him in conversation with. The adoration was practically radiating from the screen during their Facetime calls. He even had an aunt who would send him care packages from time to time. I understood fully. I absolutely adored him myself. He just had this light about himself and it was fiercely captivating. Even if I’d wanted to let go, I don't believe I could. His place in my heart had been solidified. I couldn't imagine my life without Omari. I didn't even like to think of the possibility. 

“So, these possibles,” I continued, a smile still lingering. “Is there looove in the air?” 

“Nah.” He reclined in his seat and propped his elbow on the back. In a matter of seconds, all enthusiasm had left his body. “I’m not really on that right now.”

I frowned. He wasn't usually so dry with me. “Did something happen?” 

“Nah, not really.”

“So, what’s up? You don't have your eye on anybody?” I found that very hard to believe. 

“I mean…” The sly smirk that made its way onto his face caused me to drop my concern like a hot potato. I knew he was holding out. 

“Mhmm. Spill, bruh.”

He reached up to rub the back of his neck, laughing a little as he leaned toward the island again. “I didn't say that, I just been chillin’.”

“Nah, something’s going on. We tell each other everything, now cat got your tongue.” 

“It’s not even like that. To be completely honest with you, it just feels like nobody is genuine anymore. Now, these women either just out here on the come up or they're only interested for superficial reasons. They don’t really like you. I can’t mess with none of that.”

“Well, I can definitely understand not being able to trust.”

“You know? It’s hard. And I do want that special something with someone, someone I can do life with, but I don't know. Risking your heart like that is just…” 

“Yeah. I get it.”

“So, yeah. That’s all it is.”

“Maybe you can start looking in some different places than usual. Where you be?”

“I'm not looking for anything currently.”

“Why do you sound so sad when you say that, though?” 

He glanced over at me and laughed, but I didn't return his supposed joy. I can’t lie, it was a bit troubling. We had spoken on this kind of stuff before, but he had never seemed so affected by it. “I’m not sad. I’m good, I promise.”

“Ok, so what qualities would your ideal lady have?” I switched to a lighter, more giddy tone, in hopes of making his mood follow. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, I wanna know. Maybe I can help you out a lil bit.”

[edenfalling]

[Fic] “Between the Saltwater and the Sea-Strand” - Naruto

Summary: Yukiko and Kakashi run an undercover mission in the coastal port of Asase during monsoon season. Rain can make anyone philosophical. Part of the Apartment Manager AU, set after The Guardian in Spite of Herself and before An Unorthodox Pedagogical Approach. (3,515 words) Note: Written for warriordrgnmage, in response to the prompt: Naruto: Hatake Kakashi/Ayakawa Yukiko set in the Way of the Apartment Manager Series Timeline. For the Bingo card: Monsoon. It is also a fill for the genprompt_bingo square monsoon. For obvious reasons, Yukiko and Kakashi are using fake names while undercover. Yukiko is Aoi, and Kakashi is Hyoujin. Also, you may notice that this is gen! See, while I am perfectly cool with people shipping Yukiko with Kakashi, that is 100% never going to become Apartment Manager canon, for many, many reasons. If anyone wants a shippy AU, you are welcome to write it yourself, because I flat-out CANNOT. Seriously, even if I tried, you wouldn't want the results. They would be awful. Trust me on that. --------------------------------------------- Between the Saltwater and the Sea-Strand --------------------------------------------- Kuwa Natsume looked up as Yukiko slung herself in through the office window in a spray of rain, raised one eyebrow, and then looked back down to her account books. "Misplaced your shadow?" "Does anyone have a shadow in this weather?" Yukiko said wryly as she shut the window, reducing the sound of rain from deafening to merely incessant and inescapable. "I thought I was used to rain, but coastal monsoons are something new, yeah?" "We get that a lot from inlanders," Kuwa-san said as she drew a sharp line under a column of numbers and wrote a sum. "You get used to it, and it's easier for shinobi -- you have all that fancy ninpou and whatnot. But in all honesty, Aoi-san, where is your partner? I can't finalize your supply contract without both of your signatures." Yukiko made a face as she combed water out of her black-dyed hair. "Is it that important to be fussy when this is all ninety percent illegal anyway?"

"The more illegal, the more important to nail down all the details," Kuwa-san said. "What court would adjudicate the case if you sign alone and Hyoujin-san decides next week that he won't pay for his share?" Yukiko personally agreed with Kuwa-san's caution, but her cover persona would probably make one further push. So, "Oh, don't worry about him. Hyoujin trusts me completely--" Kuwa-san raised her eyebrow again. "--nearly completely when it comes to contracts. What's the point of having a partner if you can't split your responsibilities?" "I would say partners split focus, not responsibility. If you don't maintain some degree of joint liability, what's to stop one of you from turning on the other?" "Ethics?" Yukiko said with a winning smile, and allowed herself to laugh at Kuwa-san's carefully calculated answering smirk. "Fair enough. Let me look over the terms and I'll drag him over here to pretend he knows how to use a brush sometime before-- when do you close today?" "Six." "Before six. Actually, let's say before five, yeah? He's not that hard to track or sweet-talk if you know what you're doing." Yukiko held out her now-dry hand for the supply contract and wiggled her fingers until Kuwa-san passed it across her desk. She retreated to the broad windowsill and began flicking through the pages. It wasn't complicated, just a dead drop of miscellaneous dry goods in neutral territory that would hopefully establish her and Kakashi as reliable clients and Kuwa-san as a reliable supplier -- a standard way for missing-nin and gray market merchants to feel each other out. If the goods wound up as a cache for a long-term Leaf-nin mission, well, nothing in the contract specified that Yukiko and Kakashi had to be the ones to make the pickup. And their cash was perfectly legitimate Fire Country tender, so as far as Kuwa-san was concerned, there was nothing to worry about. (Yukiko was fairly certain there was nothing to worry about on Konoha's end of the bargain either. Kuwa-san had a rock-solid reputation for following through on her contracts. Nobody survived twenty years in the gray market without either keeping their word almost religiously or spending a fortune on bodyguards, and Kuwa-san barely bothered to pay for warehouse security.) "Where do you source kunai?" she asked as the rain's intensity kicked up a notch, beating against the windowpane in a nearly solid sheet of water. "Wind Country," Kuwa-san said without looking up from her accounts. "Earth Country's metallurgy is better, but the border tariffs aren't usually worth the slight increase in quality. I could change that if you're willing to pay the difference." Yukiko feigned consideration. "I don't care, but Hyoujin can get picky about steel composition. What would the increase be for this number of kunai and senbon?" Kuwa-san named a figure. Yukiko made an exaggerated expression of disgust. "No thanks! He can whine and make do. I'm not paying that much more for what, a half percent less chance of flaws? It's not like anyone expects kunai to last anyway. Use 'em and lose 'em and buy some more, that's what I say. Or steal whatever's left from your targets! That's economy, yeah?" "Officially, I can't encourage any behavior that would reduce my chance to sell you more equipment, Aoi-san. Unofficially? Yes, that's very economical. If only all my clients were equally practical." "Eh, there's all kinds of ways to be practical. What we're good at is mostly spying and killing -- it's more efficient to hire a ninja than do that stuff in-house, yeah? Just like you're good at moving stuff around to where we need it, so it's more efficient to hire you instead of us trying to figure all that stuff out from scratch. It's win-win, is how I see it." Yukiko tapped the papers to shuffle them into a neat pile, then handed them back to Kuwa-san. "That looks fine on my ends. Me and Hyoujin will be back sometime this afternoon to sign and pay the next installment." "It's a pleasure doing business with you, Aoi-san," Kuwa-san said. Yukiko grinned and dove backward out the window, into the pounding rain. --------------- Kakashi was lurking in one of Asase's numerous quayside bars, most of which were run out of the back doors of warehouses and also did a brisk side business in assorted seafood dishes. Rain pelted down on the roof tiles in a clattering racket that Yukiko found personally soothing but professionally irritating -- it was a lot harder to eavesdrop through the constant noise, not to mention the complications it added to genjutsu. She and Kakashi had spent their first night in Asase mutually grousing about the unpredictability of electric ninjutsu in waterlogged conditions and the difficulty of filtering ambient sounds out of illusions. Today Kakashi was sipping a bowl of lobster broth through a long, curved straw that vanished into the deep blue folds of the scarf he'd used to shroud his face. To the casual eye he was staring out an open window toward the rainswept harbor, his oversized gray hood restricting his range of sight and hearing, but Yukiko followed the combined angle of his feet and chopsticks to their targets: a trio of young missing-nin drinking in the far corner, defaced forehead protectors proclaiming their renunciation of Kiri. They were small-time, only a few months out on their own each with barely a name and one line of description in the latest bingo book editions, but anyone willing to go against the Bloody Mist was worth a second look. Whether this particular investigation would conclude in a job offer or an assassination was still up in the air. "Heya, Hyoujin. Thinking of roping in some new blood for larger contracts?" Yukiko asked as she dropped into a seat across from him (back to their targets) and set her ramen down on the unsanded wood of the table. Kakashi shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Three's better than two for flexibility, but more than four on a mission gets awkward without ranks and a chain of command. Nobody who leaves a village wants to go back to those kind of restrictions." Yukiko tilted her hand. "Eh, there's assholes on power trips and there's division of labor -- not necessarily the same thing. I let you take the lead in a fight and you let me take the lead on retrievals. That's just practical, yeah? But we wouldn't throw each other away. Shinobi are tools, sure, but if you don't look out for your teammates, how can you trust they'll look out for you?" Kakashi shrugged again and continued sipping his broth. Targets hear? Yukiko signed under the guise of snapping apart her chopsticks. Yes, Kakashi signed back as he lifted his bowl and drank the last of his broth under the shadow of his hood and scarf. No bite. Yukiko slurped a mouthful of noodles and nicely salted broth. "Grouch. Well, whatever we do for future contracts, today we have to sign off on the supply contract with Kuwa-san. We'll need the goods for that thing in Tea Country and she wants both of our names in writing." "Sign for me," Kakashi said "Tried that. She won't bite." "So fake it. Illusions are your thing, Aoi; pretend I'm there and forge my seal." Yukiko slurped another mouthful of noodles in her best imitation of Naruto's sloppy manners. "Oh, sure. Lying is the best way to establish trust for future contracts, yeah?" "She's a civilian, how would she know?" "Not the point. C'mon, Hyoujin. You won't melt in the rain. Let's go make nice with Kuwa-san and I'll make it real worth your while." She ran the edge of her sandal up the side of Kakashi's shin and gave him her best imitation of her cousin Yura's flirtatious smile. Kakashi twitched. Yukiko slapped the table and let her smile shade into a more genuine grin. "Ha, I win." "Fine. Finish your soup and let's go drown ourselves. Again." "Eh, getting soaked's not that bad. Especially when you've got a partner around to help you peel out of all your soggy clothes and warm up when you get home, yeah?" Kakashi twitched again, then rallied and let a tiny arc of electricity jump between two raised fingers. "And then get wet again?" Yukiko held onto her cover persona by the skin of her teeth. "Now you're talking my language. All right, I'm done. Let's go give a little now so we get more back later." --------------- Signing the contract with Kuwa-san took all of twenty minutes -- half of which was entirely for show, as Kakashi lived up to his cover persona and whined about the kunai quality until Yukiko overruled him -- after which they had the afternoon and evening entirely to themselves and a conveniently established reason to retreat to their rented room and lock themselves inside Yukiko's best privacy genjutsu. "We can't stay longer than another day now that the contract's signed," Kakashi said as he flashed his hands through the seals for a quick and subtle bit of ninjutsu that left their clothes and skin completely dry without spilling any excess heat. "Do you think the targets will be receptive if we approach them openly?" Yukiko shook her head, grimaced at the awkward motion of her still-tangled hair, and began working the tie out of her ponytail. "No chance. I don't know if they'd even be open to a joint mission with Aoi and Hyoujin at this point. Sumire wants security and Kenichi likes profit, but they're still raw enough to see tigers in every other shadow, and Eriko's almost too paranoid to make deals with someone as solid and non-threatening as Kuwa-san. On the bright side, they're wildly unlikely to join up with anyone else." Kakashi slumped back onto the futon with an annoyed set to his eyebrow. "And since they haven't moved against Fire Country assets, there's nothing to justify an assassination without a contract. I hate leaving loose ends." Yukiko dropped down to sit cross-legged beside him, fingers slowly working through her tangles. "Think of it as a guaranteed vacation in a few months. Our agents will send word the next time our trio pass through Asase, Aoi and Hyoujin turn up to sign a new contract with Kuwa-san, and we sound them out for a joint mission. They ought to be the right balance of calmer and hungrier by then, and we'll get a better reading after a week or so of close contact." "Ugh." "Yeah, yeah, talking to people is terrible and scary." Kakashi rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face in his arms, the soft, voluminous fabric of his hood blocking all apparent lines of sight. "Only the living." Yukiko froze, then sighed and flopped onto her back with her arms above her head. "Yeah. The dead talk back just as much, but it's still so much easier." "Sometimes I wonder how many people in Konoha would qualify for a 'Lone Survivor of My Genin Team, Including My Teacher' club," Kakashi said into the futon. "Then I stop wondering because the math is too depressing. But we could start a private chapter just for us." "Sometimes I hate that you trust me enough to say things like that," Yukiko said to the ceiling. "Then I tell myself not to be an idiot, because it means I get to say equally horrible things to you. Like that I'm pretty sure if we recruit our targets, at least one of them will be dead within two years, and I'm not sure that balances the odds that all three of them will die within one year if they keep working as missing-nin. After all, there's always a chance they might retire and start a farm." "Says the woman who got so bored with civilian life she jumped into a chuunin exam the minute Sandaime offered her a chance." "Says the Anbu assassin." Kakashi snorted. "We're all so fucked up." "Yeah." "Might as well be fucked up with other people who understand." "Yeah." They lay in silence for some time, listening to the steady thrum of rain on the roof tiles above. The air was warm and sticky, and the breeze eeling through the open window smelled faintly green beneath the ever-present fish-salt-rot odor of the sea. "Let's accidentally-on-purpose bump into the targets tomorrow morning, buy them breakfast, and float the idea of a joint mission later in the year," Yukiko said eventually. "Might as well plant seeds when the ground is soft." "You pay." "It's all mission funds in the end." "To clarify: you handle all the human interactions. I'll stand behind you and look vaguely menacing so they'll think at least one of us is competent." "To clarify: you'll look vaguely constipated, while I impress them with my social competency. Networking is an important skill for missing-nin." "I object to that assessment." "Which one of us has experience making business deals directly with civilians instead of through the mission office?" Kakashi flicked a gust of wind at her, re-tangling her hair. Yukiko pulled out Aoi's grin as she kicked Kakashi gently in the ankle. "Ninjutsu isn't a valid argument, which means I win. Your forfeit is fixing my hair." "Having teammates and friends is a terrible choice and I should never have made it a second time," Kakashi grumbled, but he sat up and tapped Yukiko's shoulder. "Turn around and hand me your comb." --------------- They hadn't been able to slap any chakra tags on the targets -- Eriko's paranoia was too thorough for even the subtlest of genjutsu threads to make it past her guard longer than a couple hours -- but Yukiko had gotten a decent sense of their chakra signatures over a series of not-quite-encounters during the past week. It helped to have rooms in the same lodging house, of course. Kakashi took first watch, leaving Yukiko to spend the back half of the night with a manual on steam heating systems and the interminable patter of rain. Eventually the sky began to lighten from matte black to flat gray and her spider-light sweep across the building and surrounding streets caught movement from their targets. "Time to go," she said as she stood. Kakashi remained unmoving until she nudged him with her foot, secure that he was actually awake and wouldn't strike her in reflexive defense. "I remember pretending to be a morning person when I was too young to know better," Kakashi grumbled into the futon. "It was a terrible idea then and it's a terrible idea now. Nobody should be awake before the sun is halfway up the sky." "Unfortunately the targets set the schedule," Yukiko said as she tucked her book away into a holding scroll. "Come on, put on your face and let's get to work." Kakashi flicked a minor wind jutsu in her direction as he rolled to his feet, but Yukiko had braided her hair so this time it stayed secure and untangled. "I wonder if I should switch to bulky scarves as an off-duty option. It's easier to eat and drink through the gaps between layers than to yank a mask up and down very fast or while people are looking away, and people have been much less interested in Hyoujin's face than they tend to be in mine." "That's because Hyoujin doesn't have a reputation. There's no glory in pulling down some random missing-nin's scarf." Yukiko grinned at Kakashi's affronted eyebrow and slipped out the window ahead of another wind jutsu. It wasn't hard to find their targets today: apparently Sumire's morning grumpiness had won over Eriko's paranoia and the trio of former Mist-nin were huddled near a breakfast yatai, half-sheltered from the incessant rain, and haggling over prices with the male half of the married couple behind the counter. Yukiko couldn't have asked for a better opening if she'd tried. She eeled her way up to the counter and grinned at the woman scraping down the stove from whatever she'd last been grilling. "Two miso and two fish on rice -- salmon for me, mackerel for my partner," she said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at Kakashi, who was standing, smugly dry, under a wind jutsu shaped into an invisible umbrella. "Oh, and how much extra for nori with the salmon?" The woman named a price. Yukiko rolled her eyes. "I hate bargaining on an empty stomach, so I'll just pay nine tenths of that and we'll all pretend you're not robbing me blind, yeah?" She glanced sideways to where the three young missing-nin were still arguing with the other cook. "I hate listening to arguments on an empty stomach, too, so how about I cover these loudmouths, too? Or at least the difference between what they're willing to pay and what you're asking." "Deal," the man said, interrupting the mockery of persuasion Kenichi was currently attempting. "Pay up and thank the nice lady for making sure I don't turn you away unfed." Eriko slapped her hand over Sumire's wallet. "No. It's poisoned." Yukiko rolled her eyes again. "There's a difference between reasonable caution and paranoia, yeah? I want a peaceful breakfast and our last mission went well, so I'm willing to pay a little extra to smooth things over. It's not like it's that much money. And hey, if it'll make you feel better, consider it a-- a-- Hyoujin, what's the word I want?" "Why would I know? You handle contracts," Kakashi said as he slipped a bite of mackerel through the folds of his scarf. "Ugh, why are we still partners?" "Because I'm very good with knives." "Point!" Yukiko slapped the yatai counter and turned back to the trio of missing-nin. "Anyway, breakfast. You're right that nothing comes free, so let's say that I'm paying for you to consider a joint mission sometime in the future, if me and Hyoujin have a line on a job that needs more than three people and we're kicking around the same market, yeah?" Sumire blinked. Kenichi looked like she'd slapped his face with a whole salmon. Eriko scowled and said, "That's not how contracts work." "Yes it is. It's called a-- a-- it's an option, that's the word! You can ask any of the suppliers in town, they'll tell you. I'm paying for the chance to run a job past you, because anyone who makes it out of Hidden Mist is worth a trial run, yeah? You don't have to accept. You just have to listen. And now I'm done with this conversation because I don't like having arguments on an empty stomach any more than I like listening to them. Don't die, and me and Hyoujin will see you around." She grabbed her rice bowl, her cup of miso, and her disposable bamboo chopsticks and kicked Kakashi's ankle to make him turn around and stop staring creepily at the trio of missing-nin through the folds of his scarf. Bite? she asked in handsign masked by a low-level illusion -- the chakra for which ought to be covered by Kakashi's own completely explicable umbrella jutsu. Maybe, Kakashi signed back, then added aloud, "What do you want to do for our next vacation, if this job goes as well as the last one?" Yukiko shrugged elaborately as she swallowed a mouthful of fish and rice. "Eh, there's worse places than the ocean. And by then, the rain should be over for the year. I like water a lot better when it stays flat on the ground than when it's trying to crawl up my nose and into my ears, yeah?" "That's because you have no imagination," Kakashi drawled. Yukiko considered countering with her own innuendo, but no; they were leaving Asase. They could leave Aoi and Hyoujin behind with the rain and introspection and return to more familiar ground. So she poked Kakashi with her chopsticks instead, and laughed when he neatly dodged the strike. As they walked past Kuwa-san's warehouse, bickering companionably, a watery ray of sun pierced briefly through the clouds over the storm-wracked sea and laid a path west to the green reaches of home. --------------------------------------------- End of Story --------------------------------------------- Well, that took significantly longer than it needed to, but I won in the end. \o/ Also, Kuwa Natsume (from Whose Allegiance Is Ruled by Expedience) is now officially part of Apartment Manager continuity. You're welcome. :D

[bergarachan]

just let me adore you (oh honey)

rating: T

summary: Ryan, a couple weeks after experiencing a shitty breakup, goes to a bar to take his mind off of things. He quickly realizes the bar is a gay bar. He also realizes that Shane has been hiding some things from him.

read on ao3!

or, read here:

Ryan Bergara had had a long fucking day. 

A long fucking month, to be fair. He hadn’t really told anyone except for his roommates (because it’s hard to hide things from the people you live with), but he and his girlfriend had broken up after a year of being together. They realized together that the affection they were giving each other was just an imitation of romantic love. They wanted to love each other, but honestly, they only thought of each other as friends. It was a relieving and devastating realization for both of them. Ryan cried, he was miserable for a week or two, but after that, friends they had become. It was almost like nothing had changed, that he and Mari were almost meant to be friends. And that revelation had sent Ryan into a spiral of a questioning panic. Ryan had never experimented with guys before… but honestly? Feeling a man’s stubble scratch him while they kissed…shit. Ryan shuddered. Maybe he should go out, get his head out of the gutter for a bit.

Ryan texted Shane, his best friend, asking if he wanted to come. But the latter just texted back with a “busy, sorry lil guy!!!!!!!!!!!!” (yes, with that many exclamation points), so clearly he was going alone for the night.

He threw on a long brown coat over the current black turtleneck he had on, and he looked at himself in the mirror. Holy shit, he looked good. He usually just shoved on a tee-shirt and skinny jeans but recently since the break-up he had been experimenting with style and he realized just how much he liked to dress up. It was quite fun, actually. Running his hands in his hair one last time while looking in the mirror, he decided he looked good enough to go out.

He decided to go to a bar that somehow he hadn’t really gone to before, nor had he heard of. Hopefully it wouldn’t be too crowded; however, it was a Friday night so maybe he was pushing his luck. He booked an uber and was swiftly picked up and driven to the bar.

Walking in, he noticed something was a little different. The people seemed louder, more confident, more lively, which made him frown in confusion to himself as he sat down. He ordered a beer; the bartender gave him a wink as he handed it to Ryan, and Ryan tried very hard to hide the blush that appeared on his face at the action. Jesus, what was happening to him? He had just started questioning his sexuality and he was already blushing like a newborn flower.

“Hey, is that Ryan Bergara?!” A familiar voice shouted from behind him.

Ryan whipped around and, seeing the person in question, he smiled. Finally, some good fucking company. “Hey, Curly!”

Curly, who was wearing a very Curly-typical outfit, slid into the seat next to Ryan. “Hey, Ryry! Didn’t expect to see you here. What brings you to a gay bar on a Friday night?”

Ryan was taking a sip of his beer and he nearly spat it out. “What?”

Curly frowned. “What?”

“This… this is a gay bar?” Ryan exclaimed. Curly chuckled a little in response, almost in disbelief.

“Was that not obvious, chico?” Curly asked, and watching Ryan shyly shake his head no, he smiled. “Oh, Ryan. Sweet, innocent Ryan. What would Mari say?” Ryan knows this was a complete joke, that Curly didn’t know, that he was just playing around and expected Ryan to laugh. But it kinda stung. Ryan immediately looked down to his lap.

“Oh. Uhm… actually,” Ryan stammered, “Her and I… we… split. About a month ago.”

Curly’s face immediately turned from playful to sympathetic. “Oh, no, Ryan…” And no, Ryan didn’t want to have this conversation.

“No, no… it was mutual. Besides… I’ve kinda been, uh, wanting to… experiment… lately?” He blushed as he said it out loud.

Curly’s eyebrows raised. “Oh?”

Ryan smiled shyly. “Yeah… I’ve been thinking about it and…”

“You realized boys are actually really pretty and hot and you want to get that D?” Curly finished for him.

Ryan laughed, embarrassed, cheeks flushing. “Yeah, I do, I guess.” He started to take a sip of his beer.

“It’s okay, mi principito,” Curly said, patting Ryan’s head as if he were a silly child. “We all knew you were a bottom, anyways.”

Ryan choked on his beer. “WhAT?” He coughed a couple times while Curly laughed, trying to regain the ability to breathe.

After laughing, Curly ignored him. “Anyways,” he turned towards the stage towards the back wall of the bar. “Usually on Fridays we have a music guest or two. I’ve come a couple times to listen, they’re usually really good.”

“Cool,” said Ryan. “When do they come on?”

“Around, like, eight, so in…” Curly checked his watch. “Ten minutes. You should stay and listen!”

Ryan shrugged. “Sure! It sounds like fun, and I’m planning on having a lot more beers than one tonight.” Curly laughed.

The two men talked for the next ten minutes, Curly asking lots of questions about Ryan discovering his sexuality, and Ryan answered as best as he could. It wasn’t a long story, really. After his breakup, he had just thought “Huh. Men are hot too. I should try dating one. I want a boyfriend. Wait what?” and that’s basically how it went. Curly asked Ryan if there were any guys he was interested in, and Ryan thought for a moment. As much as he didn’t really like to admit it, Shane was the first person that came to Ryan’s mind. Shane was always there for him, was there through his breakup with Helen, there through his recovery, supportive of him and Mari and their breakup respectively. He was there to care for Ryan when he felt down, they sang songs together, ran a show together, ran a goddamned business together, and not to mention, as much as Ryan hated it, Shane was hot. Ryan even caught himself staring at his scruffy beard, his shiny brown eyes, and the muscles he liked to pretend he didn’t have but definitely did have. Shane wasn’t fucking ripped like Ryan was (according to all his friends), but he had muscles. Shane was strong. And Ryan wondered what his strong hands would look like wrapped around Ryan’s ne- nope, nope, Ryan, you’re in public.

Choking kink aside, Ryan really did like Shane. Maybe Ryan even loved Shane. It wasn’t likely Shane had ever, or will ever feel the same back.

“What’re you thinking about, my friend?” Curly asked from beside him.

Ryan shook his head. “Nothing important.” It wasn’t important, really. Ryan would go on pretending he didn’t have feelings for Shane, just like he had probably been pretending for the past five years, and life would go on. Had it really been five years? Yeesh.

Curly looked like he was about to say something, but a loud mic feedback from across the room stopped them both. They turned their heads to a man at the mic. He had dark hair, smoothed back; but he also looked like he came here literally every day. He was wearing a hawaiian t-shirt, as you do, and worn-down jeans.

“Hey, everyone,” said the man as the people went quiet, “I’m Jared, I run this place. I hope you’re all having a great time so far.” He cleared his throat, then continued. “So, uh, today we have a musical guest. I think he should introduce himself actually, so…” He looked to his side, seemingly looking for someone standing at the side of the stage, then turned back. “take it away!” Jared exclaimed, and everybody started to clap. Ryan did, too.

Jared hastily came off the stage, and then another man walked onstage. He was wearing a white button-down, with the first couple of buttons undone, showing off his chest and collarbone. He wore black dresspants and clear framed glasses. He was tall and his hair was a light brown and his beard was neatly trimmed and oh my fucking god, that’s Shane. Ryan realized. His eyes widened like golf balls, and he turned to exchange a look with Curly, who’s eyes were equally as wide.

“Hey,” Shane said (oh my god, it’s fucking Shane) into the mic. “I uh, have a song to sing. I wrote it myself, actually.” The crowd cheered a little, and Shane laughed bashfully. “Yeah.”

As Shane continued talking to the crowd Ryan leaned into Curly and hissed, “Did you know anything about this?!”

Curly whispered back, “No, I would’ve told you. Holy shit, Ryan, he looks good.” And Ryan couldn’t argue with that. Jesus, Shane looked downright incredible in that outfit, and he must’ve gotten another haircut, because he looked like a sophisticated lawyer. For whatever reason, Ryan was into it.

“So, uh, this song is called ‘adore you’,” Shane continued, “It’s about one of my friends. He’s… he’s incredible, really. Inside and out. And, in our friendship we don’t get to, like, express our feelings a lot. It’s mostly jokes and bits. And… I wrote this when I was feeling emotional one day and I just wanted to tell him that- you know what? I’ll just sing it for you.” Shane cut himself off from his story, and in the back of his mind, Ryan wondered who the song was about. Shane had a lot of friendships that were more joking than emotional.

The band behind Shane started to play, and as the intro to the song faded in Shane vocalized with this “Ahh…” that was beautiful and controlled and incredible and how did Ryan not realize that Shane was that good at singing. It made Ryan’s heart do a flip-flop in his chest.

The drums kicked in, and Shane started to sing.

“Walk in your rainbow paradise Strawberry lipstick state of mind”

Holy shit. This song was lovely so far, in Ryan’s opinion. Whoever Shane had written the song about was the luckiest person in the world.

“I get so lost inside your eyes,” Shane continued to sing, “Would you believe it?”

“Never took Shane as a romantic,” Curly nudged Ryan in the shoulder, and Ryan shrugged.

“Me either.” Ryan dazedly wished it was him Shane was singing about. He’d pay good money to get a song as good as that, written just for him.

“You don’t have to say you love me You don’t have to say nothin You don’t have to say you’re mine honey,”

Ryan sighed, smiling. What a sap Shane was. Ryan always knew Shane was a sweetheart. He couldn’t wait to tease him about this.

The chorus kicked in, and Ryan’s breath caught. Shane sang this soft “ahhh” with backing harmonies from the band, and Ryan refused to believe Shane had that much talent. Maybe Ryan was less straight than he originally assumed.

“I’d walk through fire for you, Just let me adore you, oh honey, I’d walk through fire for you, Just let me adore you Like it’s the only thing I’ll ever do,” Shane gripped the mic stand with both his hands, started to tap with his feet, gaining a little bit of confidence as the crowd wooed a little bit. It made Ryan smile even wider to see Shane so happy, so relieved the crowd was enjoying what he’d made.

Shane started to sing the second verse. “Your wonder under summer skies Brown skin and lemon over ice Would you believe it?”

Curly nudged him again. “What?” Ryan asked. Curly just wiggled his eyebrows in response, causing Ryan to flush and shove him playfully. “Curly, you think he’s-? Oh god, dude, no. No. No.” Ryan giggled, embarrassed at the thought.

“I’m just saying,” Curly said, smug, and Ryan decided to give him a shove again.

“You don’t have to say you love me I just wanna tell you something Lately you’ve been on my mind,” The crowd had started to clap along with Shane’s song as the short instrumental in between the bridge and chorus started. Shane laughed bashfully, looking among the crowd of hands clapping. His smile fell ever so slightly as his gaze landed, consequently, on Ryan. Ryan’s breath hitched. Their eye contact was intense, full of an emotion Ryan couldn’t place. He quickly broke the eye contact by shyly looking down at his shoes. Shane’s voice didn’t waver, even if his expression did. He just continued to sing as beautifully as he ever had. The music faded to a simple base as Shane sang the chorus again,

“I’d walk through fire for you Just let me adore you Oh, honey,” The drums and guitar with the lovely melody and the rest of the instruments started to play again. Shane’s gaze flicked to Ryan’s again, and stayed there as he sang the rest of the chorus.

“I’d walk through fire for you Just let me adore you Oh, honey I’d walk through fire for you just let me adore you Like it’s the only thing i’d ever do,” Shane bounced along to the beat as the crowd started to clap again and cheer. Shane was smiling again, and this time the smile didn’t waver as he looked Ryan deep in the eyes and crooned, “Like it’s the only thing I’ll ever do,”

Ryan’s heart skipped a beat. This song couldn’t be about him, it just couldn’t. Shane could never like Ryan. Ryan was… a lot, emotionally. Ryan’s face wasn’t as symmetrical as it could be. Ryan talked too much about sports, his smile was wonky, his-

And with the last kick of the bass drum, the song ended. The crowd, including curly, whooped and cheered and clapped, and Ryan swore he’d never seen Shane smile wider. Ryan clapped too, laughing and smiling. He felt like a proud mother, even though he literally had never seen Shane sing like that.

“Alright, well,” Shane gripped the mic again, and the crowd settled down. “That was a cheese-show, wasn’t it? Gross,” Shane was clearly joking, and the crowd laughed along with him, including Ryan. “Anyways, here’s a song I did not write. Here’s What You Know by Two Door Cinema Club.” The band started to play again, and the crowd cheered as Shane started to sing.

Shane sang a bunch more songs, the rest of them just being covers of other songs that Ryan knew Shane liked. Ryan was genuinely enjoying himself too, and so were the rest of the people in the bar. He even saw some of the bartenders bobbing their heads and tapping their fingers along to the beat of whatever song Shane was singing. Every once in a while, Shane and Ryan would make eye contact, Ryan would flush, and Shane would smile as if he knew something Ryan didn’t; a secret. It was exhilarating to see Shane look at him like that. Ryan didn’t want Shane to stop doing that.

Once Shane finished his last song, he said in the mic to the crowd, “That’s it for tonight, folks. I, uh, I don’t sing often in front of a crowd,” Unless you count creating and singing a song about moonlight and french fries in front of people, Ryan thought to himself, making himself smirk.”So this was really special for me. Thanks to the band back here,” He motioned to the band, and people started to clap, “And thanks for clapping along and stuff. This was fun. Goodnight, enjoy the rest of your night!” And with that, the band started to pack up and Shane walked off of the stage.

Ryan locked eyes with Curly, and they shared a smile. “Should we go up and see him?”

Curly nodded enthusiastically, “Yes, omigod, yes, I am going to tell him to get on the radio, oh my gosh, that was amazing!” He gushed, and grabbed Ryan’s hand and pulled him through the crowd to get to the side of the stage where Shane would be putting away his gear.

When they got to the side of the stage, Shane was standing there, fixing his hair (as if it didn’t look gorgeous already, Ryan thought) and Curly pushed Ryan forward, having him face Shane up close.

“Hey there, Ryan,” Shane said with a soft smile, as suave and as cool as ever, and Ryan couldn’t do anything but gaze up at him amazedly, knowing full-well he looked like a swooning 15 year old girl, and giggle a little bit. God, what was Shane doing to him? He had literally never reacted like this, and yet, after Shane’s whole show, seeing him singing like that, looking like that, dressed like that, Ryan really could do nothing but swoon in his presence.

“Uh, Shane?!” Curly gushed from behind Ryan, taking a step forward and saving Ryan from any more embarrassment. “That was incredible! I didn’t know you could sing like that?!”

“Oh, hey, Curly!” At Curly’s response, Shane blushed a little bit, rubbed the back of his neck bashfully, “Well, uh, yeah. I’ve been writing and singing for a while now, just never got the chance to, like, perform. I struck up a conversation with the guy who owns the place and he brought up the musical guest thing, I told him about my songs, and… yeah. It went from there.” Shane turned back to Ryan, “Now what I want to know, is what you’re doing here.”

Ryan blushed even more. Usually when he blushed it didn’t show too much under slightly dimmed lights like these and under his tanned skin, but he probably looked like an anime girl at this point. “I didn’t know it was a gay bar. Whoops.”

A short silence fell upon the three, and finally Ryan, feeling awkward, softly said, “You were incredible.”

Shane said, “You look incredible.” Ryan looked down, shy. Fuck Shane for making him so bashful.

“Hey, Ryan?” Shane asked. His brown eyes looked so deep, yet so bright and full of emotion.

“Yeah, big guy?” Ryan responded, breath taken away.

“Can we… head outside for a moment?” He looked to Curly for permission, and Curly, the bastard, nodded, a smirk growing on his face. Fuck you, Curly.

“Oh,” Ryan blinked, taken aback by the question, “Yeah. Of course. Sure.”

Shane led the way, and he and Ryan stepped outside the bar. The air was slightly chilly, the sky was dark, devoid of stars, and the wind blew slightly. Ryan shivered, and he felt a large, warm hand on his shoulder.

“Uh,” Shane started, and Ryan glanced at Shane. He seemed… nervous. He was looking at his feet, hands in his pockets. “So… the song… the one I sang in the beginning.” He said, looking unsure/

Ryan nodded, goading him on. “Yeah, that was such a beautiful song, Shane. Whoever you wrote it about is super lucky.” Oh, god, I just said that out loud. Of course. “Uh… it was really good. I liked it. A lot.”

Shane smiled at that, a beautiful smile that Ryan was glad to see on Shane’s face. “Remember when we were filming tourist trapped?”

Ryan nodded. “Yeah?” He remembered it clearly. It was one of the best days of his 2019, hands down.

“I really loved those few days we were filming. It… it was amazing. I loved eating hotdogs and gin with you, going on stupidly scary roller coasters with you, hugging Snoopy with you,” That got a laugh out of both of them, “And it really was some of the greatest days of my life.” That makes two of us. “So… I got home, and… I wrote a song about it.”

Ryans breath caught. He couldn’t mean… “You…” Ryan stammered.

“Adore You is about you, Ry.”

Ryan’s face turned red. “Really?” He practically whispered. Shane nodded. “Shane…”

“Shh,” Shane shushed him, placing a hand on his cheek softly and swooping down to kiss Ryan.

Ryan gasped into the kiss, going still for a few moments before going Oh, yeah, your super hot super cute super sweet best friend is kissing you, you should probably kiss back, and kiss back he did. Shane wouldn’t let the kiss go beyond anything but chaste and sweet, wrapping his arms around Ryan’s waist to pull him closer as Ryan (on his tiptoes) wrapped his arms around Shane’s neck. “Shane,” Ryan sighed dreamily into the kiss, and Shane smiled against his lips in response.

When they finally broke apart for air, Shane smiled, pressing one last kiss to Ryan’s cheek. “Shane.” Ryan said, out of breath.

“Ryan.” Shane replied.

Ryan played with Shane’s collar. “Wanna go back inside?” He shot Shane with his classic puppydog eyes, glancing at him through his lashes. He knew Shane was a sucker for them, kiss or no kiss.

“If you insist,” said Shane, and the two went back inside, blushes on their cheeks and smiles on their faces. Ryan wondered what this meant for them. That kiss was something Ryan didn’t even know that he wanted, until tonight. He shook his head, deciding they’d discuss it later. Right now, he was happy, he was with Shane, and Curly, and this is where we wanted to be.

As they walked back inside, Ryan caught himself humming the ever-so-familiar tune,

just let me adore you, like it’s the only thing i’ll ever do.

[kindofaslutformichaelmyers-2]

Blood and Wine, a Hannibal x Reader

In honor of me getting back on Tumblr, here’s a Hannibal x Psychiatrist!Reader fic. This is SFW (although I can make a part two if you like it) 

Warnings: personal injury, alcohol, use of drugs (normally, I would never, but Hannibal canonically is known to make use of them), implied murder

Enjoy :)

_______________________________________________________________________

Music poured from brightly lit windows outside the Maryland townhouse, the harmonies of many-stringed instruments reaching my ears. I did not feel as though I should be there, nor did I quite understand why the invitation was extended to me. Nevertheless, the thick yellowed cardstock stated its intentions quite clearly; I was invited to a dinner party, 9:00, at the residence of Dr. Lecter, my friend and colleague. I knocked on the door, once, twice. The door swung open, flooding me in light.

“Dr. Y/L/N! I did hope you would come. Please, come in!” A tall, handsome man stepped aside to allow me into the threshold. His face was darkly attractive, and he was dressed sharply in a deep, wine-red suit with a black dress shirt. 

“Dr. Lecter. It’s lovely to see you again, thank you for the invitation.” 

“Please, it was my pleasure. May I take your coat?” His voice sent shivers down my spine. With a smirk composed of teeth just slightly too sharp, he helped me slip out of my thick overcoat and hung it. “Shall we?” 

I took his arm as he led me to the sitting room, the source of the music and the location of the party. There were women in lace and silk, soft furs and fabrics of every kind, hair plaited in complex patterns. There were men in dark suits of satin and velvet. And the food! Oh lord, the food, elegantly plated on china and glass, spattered with red sauces and rich glazes. 

“Oh, Hannibal… It’s beautiful.” 

“Yes,” he acquiesced, my eyes lifting to meet the gaze that was already upon me. “Yes, it is.” 

Another rapt knock on the door stole away the company of my host, and I joined the nearest group of socialites, attempting to tame the thudding of my heart. A waiter passed with glasses of chianti, and I took one gracefully as he passed. 

Imitating the pompous demeanor of the group, I drank, and listened. Underneath the questions of everyday life and which-concert-you-went-to talks, though, I heard whispers. Rumors, gossip, the real thing that the rich came to do. 

“Did you hear that the FBI consults him?” “Did you know that he saved my life?” “I heard he isn’t as kind as he seems” “I’ve heard-” “Did you know?” “He has a dark side” “I wouldn’t get too close”

A gentle hand was placed on the small of my back, a man’s hand, by the feel of it. My attention was suddenly back with a vengeance, focused on the hand. Hot breath grazed my cheek as my new company leaned in to whisper. 

“Care to join me for some hors d’oeuvres?” my host hinted, voice deep and low, as sultry and many-layered as the wine in my glass. A shock of electricity shot through me. Hannibal’s hand pressed, ever so softly, and my body followed his faintest suggestions as he led me through the crowd. “Here, try this. Heart tartare.” 

He raised a small shell of tartare to my lips and I obliged without a second thought. It was delicious, of course, complex in many ways. 

“Wow… that’s amazing, Hannibal.” 

“Thank you. I have to go check in the kitchens. Pardon me, please.” 

I approached the nearest circle, still dazed but somehow also hyper aware of everything. My pulse was racing, the many voices becoming blurred, but each face was sharper in definition than a movie screen. I was greeted with cheery hellos, probably the result of a little too much champagne already. They were curious about my job, my family, my hobbies, etc. Curious about how I met Hannibal, as if that would explain the way he was behaving, standing not even inches away from me when he could. As if we were together. Of course, it would have been most interesting for people to hear about a love life between the host and a mysterious guest of honor. Unfortunately, I was just another psychiatrist. 

Hannibal’s familiar hand came to rest between my shoulder blades, warmth emanating from the spot. I prayed he couldn’t feel my racing heart. Our conversations continued, entertaining me with their attempts to have me admit to something that wasn’t reality. The closeness of my colleague did not help the case I was attempting to make. And yet, after fifteen minutes, I was bored, and the tapping of Hannibal’s fingers on the nape of my neck alerted me to the fact that the center of the room had been cleared. The music had stopped. 

Hannibal had swept in front of me, bowing deep. The crowd gasped in fascination. His hand was held, extended, for me to take. “Care to dance?”  

With the cue from the orchestra, I was swept into a waltz formation, my partner’s right hand holding my own while the left rested on the small of my back, holding us so that our faces were mere inches away. A soft “oh!” of surprise left my lips. 

The music started and we moved, my feet following Hannibal’s with a grace I never knew myself to possess. I found it hard to break away from his scarlet gaze. 

“I’m still not entirely sure why you invited me tonight, Dr. Lecter,” I murmured, low enough that the crowd would not hear. 

“That wasn’t obvious?” 

“No,” I replied, embarrassed. 

“I enjoy your company, Y/N. You don’t ask me such redundant questions,” he answered, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And I consider you a friend.” 

My heart leapt into my throat as I was lowered into a graceful dip, Hannibal holding me securely. Against my better judgement, my fingertips crept up to his face, trailing along his jawline. His face angled to bring his lips to my ear, his breath creating a  barely audible whisper-

“Join me, after the party. We need to talk about something.” A soft kiss was planted on my collarbone, and my whole body buzzed with electricity.

With that, the waltz was over, and he vanished as suddenly as he had been appearing. 

His absence left me with hundreds of questions, and about ten-thousand emotions as the crowd bombarded me with questions about our dance. To name a few, I was confused, frustrated, curious… and also, quite a bit more aroused than I’d have liked to be. As much as I tried, I couldn’t shake the image of his hands on me, his lips (which had been so close just minutes ago) pressing into my skin. Against my better judgement I indulged in another glass of wine. 

“I hope you know that you aren’t special. To Hannibal, I mean,” a rude woman from the crowd with a sharp, unpleasant face jeered, interrupting my thoughts. 

“Of… course I don’t, we both just have mutual admiration for each other’s practices. I… I don’t understand where you’re coming from.”

“We all saw the way he looks at you. I’m just telling you that he bores easily.” Her face was pulled into a grotesque sneer. I wanted nothing more than to gouge her eyes out. “Honestly, I can’t even see why he invited you.” 

“Look, okay? I didn’t ask for an invite. Why don’t you bring it up with him if you don’t want me here? I didn’t get my fucking doctorate for some asshole to come up to me and tell me that I don’t deserve the attention and respect of my colleagues! I do!” I could feel the heat rising within me as my voice began to shake.

 I trembled with rage. My hand constricted harshly on my wine glass and it shattered, shards falling and slicing my palm. For a second, it was difficult to distinguish the deep red from my blood. Tears of humiliation gathered in my eyes. “Fuck off. I don’t even know your name, you bitch.” 

Gentle hands came to rest on my shoulders as Hannibal looked deep into my eyes, his irises glowing red with the reflection of my blood. 

“Y/N, I need you to take a deep breath. It’s going to be alright.” I nodded. A cloth was pressed into my hand softly, to stop the bleeding. “Have a seat. I’ll be right with you.

“Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen, but the night is over. Please take a favor from the parlor as you make your way out. Elizabeth?” he addressed the pointy-faced bitch. “I would appreciate it if you could join me in the kitchen for a word.” His gentle ease and poised demeanor had the crowd following his instruction, filing out, as he led Elizabeth away. I wondered why. I hoped it wouldn’t make me jealous. 

I knocked on the kitchen door before entering and received a ‘come in,’ so it couldn’t have been anything lengthy. The woman was nowhere to be seen. 

“Have a seat, Y/N, I think that I can fix your hand right up,” Hannibal, cool as always, motioned. His kitchen was meticulous, and yet the only thing I noticed was that he was now missing his suit jacket and had rolled his sleeves up to his forearms. 

He was gentle with my hand, never using too much pressure, always making sure that I was okay as he removed the slivers of glass with silver tweezers. He had certainly earned his license. Finally, my palm was wrapped in soft gauze. He planted a sweet kiss on the bandage.

“Where did that woman go? I didn’t see her leave,” I asked, still feeling pangs of jealousy. 

“She left through the backdoor. I didn’t want her to cause any more of a commotion.” 

“What did you talk to her about?” I continued, still not satisfied despite the rudeness of my question. 

“Her attitude. She isn’t allowed to treat my guests like that.”

“But-” 

“Y/N,” he interjected calmly. “Normally envy isn’t a pretty face. You seem to be immune to that effect. Would you like a cup of tea?” He offered. 

“I… yes, but… I’m not envious of her!” I watched his movements, entranced by the simple elegance of his process. 

“On the contrary, it would appear that you are, indeed, quite jealous. I’m actually rather flattered that you think me worth of jealousy. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve been trying to grab your attention all night.” 

A teacup of steaming mint waited for me on the counter. I took a sip before continuing. 

“But... she told me I was a phase.” 

“She and I were never an item, if you’re asking. She tried to make it happen, but I am not attracted to her in any way. Intellectually she was quite dull.” 

“And…” I took another drink from the cup. 

“You are not a phase in my life. You’re quite beautiful, worth much more than just a phase. You’re worth all of my attention.” 

The blood rushed to my face. “Hannibal, I… I find you very attractive as well. I’ve actually had feelings for you for a long time, I just…could never find the words... what’s that?” My eyes focused on the tile of the floor next to a shelf, currently seeping with viscous red liquid. I stood, but got a head rush, dizziness blurring my vision. 

“Hannibal, what did you…” black dots spotted my sight as he swooped in, picking me up bridal style. The teacup slipped from my hand and shattered on the ground, my consciousness fading into darkness.