#Ironically if i even knew how to talk and edit this could’ve been one of those 9 hour video essay type things.

[cozymochi]

“but cozy why would u wanna watch all of those didney movies” GOoD QUESTION, i know we all know this but it was a mix of “well i already saw majority of these, i might as well finish it off”, personal stuff, and at it’s most primal form: curiosity

then as it went on it started to evolve into some quasi-critical thinkpiece on how a single entity managed to just ….be. And it got so extra i can’t even fully articulate what I mean at all without hand gestures

but that gets into heavy shit, i just wanted to see just so i could say i did. It’s not much of a bragging right at all but, i don’t regret it either

[theonewiththefanfics]

A Life Worth Living (one-shot)

Synopsis: As sickness creeps closer in taking her life, Y/N has come to make her final amends. Though the Astarion she fell for no longer exists, even the cold clutch of absolute power can't match true love.

This is sort of an AU! because in truth, Ascended Astarion would not give a single shit if you've left him at this point, sorry :D I just had to get this out of my head

Pairing: Ascended Astarion x fem!Reader; Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: angst, fluff

Warnings: talks of sickness (not specified), dying, death, swearing etc. Minimally edited :)

Word count: 5115

The day was much like any other in Baldur’s Gate – sunny without even a single wispy cloud in the sky, yet the Ancunin palace rose above all the rest like a beast in the night, drowning the houses in menacing shadows.

Matches, Y/N thought, to the person living inside.

Wrought iron gate surrounded the grounds, thorny rose vines looping through, while beautiful blooms opened towards the slowly moving star above.

This could’ve been her home, had she not said no. She shuddered to think what her life would’ve been like.

That had been almost five years ago. So much had changed during that time. It didn’t even feel like just half a decade had passed, it felt more like a century since Y/N had left Astarion. But she couldn’t stay with him. Not after he’d Ascended, completing the ritual he’d killed Cazador for, and became what he had always hated – a version of Cazador himself.

Her hand had barely touched the handle of the gates before it swung open on its own accord. Y/N shouldn’t be surprised by it, not with how much magic she’d seen and experienced during her travels, but still, such small things made their impact. Whether it was an invitation inside, or a trap only time would tell.

She didn’t have much of it, which is why she was there in the first place. Had that cursed sickness not been slowly taking over her body, eating away at it, cell by cell, Y/N would have dragged this final meeting with Astarion as far in the future as she could, but there were still friends she wanted to visit, places to see, no matter how limited her life had become.

With thinly veiled amazement, because she didn’t want to marvel at what surely was slave work, she walked down the gravel path towards the large double doors of the mansion, looking at the meticulously groomed gardens. Not even a single leaf was out of place. A bittersweet smile tugged at her lips. Where once she would’ve believed Astarion to be the one to care for these plants, now Y/N knew in her heart, he’d never stoop so low as to even get on one knee to prune a rose. Such a thing was below him nowadays. Let alone sleeping next to her on a bedroll.

When she stood face to face with the large carved oak doors, her heart picked up its rhythm. She couldn’t help it, as years of memories, of love won and lost, rushed through her mind. Slowly, she raised her hand to knock.

It took about half a minute for the doors to open, an unfamiliar face staring back at her.

A vampire spawn, eyes red and glowing, looking at her with a cocked head.

“Can I help you?” he asked, giving her an appraising glance.

 Y/N let out a breath. “I’m here to see Astarion.”

“Master Ancunin is not taking any visitors. Not without a previous notice,” he said it almost with a sneer, but she just gave him a smile.

“Tell him an old friend has stopped by. From the times before.”

The vampire looked ready to scoff and throw the door closed in her face, but stopped as he was closing it, a recollection of something flashing across his features. Whether he recognised her as a hero of Baldur’s Gate, or maybe he recognised her from a story Astarion might’ve told didn’t matter, because whatever it was, hopefully would grant her this one meeting.

With that though, Y/N was left to wait outside, pretty much twiddling her thumbs. Astarion probably wouldn’t take it too kindly if she went and took a bloom, though it used to be something he did for her. He used to do so much for her…

About five minutes later, the same spawn appeared, opening the door and motioning for her to enter.

“Master Ancunin will be with you shortly.”

And once again, she was left awing at the hallway, this time completely alone. She guessed no one saw her as a threat, despite the fact she had felled many enemies, including the Absolute. But oh well. At least she didn’t have to awkwardly stand with a guard or something, trying to figure out what small talk to fill the silence with. This gave her a chance to have a look at her surroundings.

A grand staircase, looping up to both sides, stood in front of her, while the palace spiralled away to the right and left. The entrance itself was almost like a ballroom, and she was sure, Astarion had at least one, if not more. What would those look like? What would a ball itself in the Ancunin residence look like? Would there be dancing and singing? Would people be laughing?

She couldn’t imagine it. Not with how he had degraded her after Ascending, telling her to kneel, telling her he’d turn her into a spawn, not because he wanted to spend the rest of their eternities together, but because of the control he now wished to exert over her.

A vision of herself, a blood-red gown, her eyes matching the velvet he’d no doubt dress her in, flashed across her mind. And a beautiful pearl necklace cinched tightly, two large bite marks across the slant of the skin. A collar disguised as gems to tether her to him. One large gilded cage to keep her in.

“Well, well, well… if it isn’t my darling, crawling back home.”

Astarion stood at the top of the staircase landing, bringing Y/N out of her pondering.

He was a vision, as he always had been, but now, were vulnerability and love had shone in his eyes, only wry amusement and cruelty were left in their place.

His steps echoed across the empty house as he made his way down, not taking his gaze away from her. Y/N could imagine how she looked to him – covered in dirt and dust from weeks of traveling, eyes hollowed by dark circles and hair a complete mess, skin cracked around her lips, its colour dull. Compared to his meticulously coifed locks, the intricate frock and trousers, and even his gem-covered boots, she was a disaster.

Despite the pain in her heart, Y/N managed a smile. “You look good, Astarion.”

He scoffed, coming to stand before her. “Of course, I look good. I always did. You just didn’t appreciate it. Have you come back to beg? I do like a bit of grovelling. Though after what you did, there might be more you have to do than just plead for me to take you back.”

She chuckled, shaking her head and looped her arm through his elbow, undoubtedly surprising him, as she took charge and led them to the left, no idea where the hallway was going to bring her to, otherwise she might start crying. “Tell me everything Astarion. I want to know how you’ve faired these past five years.”

Her nonchalance, her whole attitude had completely stunned him, something Y/N didn’t think she was capable of, but maybe it was good. Without having knocked him off balance a bit, he might’ve just turned her away, but she needed this conversation. This closure before the sickness took her.

Together they walked inside what turned out to be a dining room. Did he even need one? He didn’t eat human food, even though he was Ascended now, and could enjoy the tastes.

“I have to say,” he started, “I did not expect to see you again.”

Y/N sighed, looking at the paintings hung along the walls, at the gleaming chandeliers above. “Believe me, I did not expect to come either.”

“Then why are you here? If not to apologise for what you did, why bother wasting my time?”

The words stung, but she wasn’t going to tell him the real reason. It wouldn’t matter to him anyway. He told her he wished she died screaming, and though that might still be a possibility, it was more likely she would simply go to sleep one night and never wake up. “Because, although I do not believe I have anything to apologise for, I did wish to make amends. Life for us mortals, is so short… and the thought of living the rest of mine, without at least having tried, seemed… wrong.”

Astarion scoffed, but she could feel him tightening his elbow, as if he didn’t want her hand to slip from the crook it rested in. “I will not apologise for my decisions.”

“I am not asking you to,” Y/N said. “I simply wish for us to become friends once more. If only for the sake of sentimentality.”

“Sentiment,” Astarion sneered. “But what else can I expect from such a creature as a human.”

Y/N let out an amused huff, pressing down the real impact it left on her heart. He knew right where to cut, because when they’d been together during the tadpole adventure, she’d laid her soul bare to him. Told him all about her fears and hopes, how much of a hopeless romantic she was, so now, to tell her it was foolish to try and rekindle if only a friendship, was stupid… but she hadn’t expected more from this version of Astarion.

He’d already given much more time than she’d expected. Half of her had thought when the spawn would tell him who was at the door, he would take the chance and fulfil his words by killing her himself.

Absolute power corrupts absolutely. It’s what she’d told him when she’d tried to talk him out of the ritual. How he would be condemning seven thousand other lives. But he hadn’t cared. Astarion had believed he deserved the power, deserved to complete what Cazador couldn’t. Y/N couldn’t stand by and watch, nor would her conscience allow her to be by his side.

And so she’d left. Because there was nothing left of the man she’d fallen in love with. For these five years after, she’d avoided Baldur’s Gate, hearing from whispers and gossip how he’d risen in the ranks of politics and society, how brutal he could be to his servants and those who stood in his way, almost reminding her of when he’d talked about his Magistrate days, only amped to a hundred. A new, sickening Cazador at the helm.

“But how have you been, darling?” Astarion almost sounded bored as they moved into what passed for a living room in this palace, Y/N assumed. “What shenanigans have you caused?”

And so she told him. As a servant spawn brought a tea-set laying out two cups, though Astarion didn’t even pick his up, Y/N recounted how she’d gone all across the Sword Coast, had travelled over the seas and seen knew lands. How she’d done the things he’d promised they would do together.

“Sounds rather… dull,” he commented, lounging on the seat. “But I suppose to such simple minds and hearts as yours, it’s all very exciting and enthralling.”

She wanted to snap at him, remind how half of the ideas she’d completed, had been his, but instead, Y/N just took a deep breath. “Have you finally gotten everything you wanted, Astarion?” she asked instead. “Are you finally happy?”

That had been the true question plaguing her mind these past years.

He turned to look at her, eyes blazing. “I have power, status, people bow to my every whim. What more could I possibly want?”

“Then I’m happy for you,” she said, setting down her half-drunk tea. “Even if it means nothing to you anymore, I am happy you’ve finally gotten what you wished.”

An awkward silence settled between the two, and Y/N took it as her cue to wrap things up. “I best take my leave.”

“And where will you possibly go?” he sneered, but stood up alongside her, making their way back to the grand oak doors.

“Karlach and I are meeting up at a local tavern. And then we’re all going to the get together at Wyll’s. You would know that, had you come to the party Wither’s invited us all to.”

“And waste my time?” he scoffed. “No thanks. This conversation has done enough of that.”

By now they were at the doors, and Y/N turned around, taking in her final fill of the vampire. No doubt this would be the last time she ever saw him. “I hope you have a good life, Astarion. You deserve it. Despite how things went down between us, I do wish all the best for you.”

Slowly, she leaned up and pressed a kiss against his cheek. It was cold, but not as cold as she had been used to. No doubt he used every opportunity to lazy out in the sun, or feed on someone.

Just as she was about to exit, he grabbed her by the wrist, his hold tight and not something she’d be able to break out of.

Astarion’s scarlet eyes narrowed in on her, pulling her closer to him.

Y/N’s heart spiked. Was he really still that hurt, he would finally cash in on that revenge? She knew she would never be able to hurt him. No matter what, that romantic heart of hers would betray her.

He snapped her to his chest, her breath hitching in her lungs, as he leaned down by her neck and inhaled. Her frame was ramrod straight, not daring to move a muscle. When he finally moved back, anger and something else raged in his eyes. Was it… fear?

“Now, my dear, tell me the real reason you came here.”

“I -,”

“And don’t lie,” he hissed. “Because I can smell it on you. In your blood.”

“Smell what?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Death.” And Y/N had to be hallucinating, because she was sure she heard his voice crack. “Sickness and death runs through your veins. It’s – it’s like acid.”

“What’s it matter, Astarion? What would any of it change?”

“It would chan-,” but he stopped himself.

Y/N leaned a bit closer, her Y/E/C eyes narrowed, trying to decipher what she was seeing on that stony face, but pulled back, shaking her head. “Maybe you will finally get your wish and I will die screaming.”

By the look on his face, she understood Astarion did not appreciate the comment. “You dare enter my home, under the pretences of lies and deceit,” but his vile words didn’t match what she could see brewing underneath – despair. If only she was still naïve enough to believe he felt anything else but contempt for her. “I deserve to know the truth.”

“But you do know it.” Y/N shrugged. “So I’m going to ask you once again – what does the knowledge that I am dying, change? I would still die someday. Whether it is in a week or in half a century, I would still die. What’s it matter?”

“Had you not been stupid, and accepted my offer of becoming a spawn, you wouldn’t be in this mess,” Astarion spit, but didn’t release his grip.

“I did not come here to ask you to change me.” She placed her hand against where his heart should be beating, yet everything was still under her fingers. “I am not afraid of death. I am not happy its coming for me so quickly, but I would rather have my life end now, than live as a spawn.”

Hurt crossed his face. “Would living with me really be so repulsive to you?”

“Living as your slave would.” Y/N lifted her chin. “We would not be equals. You would never see me as the person I am, but rather as a thing to own. And I, for one, thought you would be the first person to understand why I would never choose such an option.”

This was not how she wanted them to part, but it seemed like it would once again leave them as enemies.

She pulled away from Astarion, and this time he let her.

“I hope one day you do understand my choices. Because as much as I disagree with yours, I have always accepted and understood them. Live Astarion, if only for yourself.”

Sunlight greeted her, as she opened the door, but she didn’t manage to put a single foot outside, when the vampire grabbed her by the nape of the neck, pulling her back in and slamming the door shut.

“I am sorry my dear, but that simply won’t do.”

Fear didn’t even get a chance to rush through her veins when everything went black.

It was a while before Y/N finally came to, but when she did, she was laid on a plush bed, body covered in a duvet, head resting against the softest pillow in the universe, and the sky outside was the violet of the setting day.

Horror struck her as her memories came to her – of Astarion pressing his palm against her nose and mouth, preventing her from breathing. Of how unconsciousness took over, while his red eyes glared at her fading form. But worse – the conversation they’d had right before that, about refusing to become a spawn.

Did he really hate her that much, he’d turn her against her will?

But instead of Astarion sitting in the room she found…

“Gale?” Y/N’s brow furrowed as she raised herself to her forearms on the mattress. “What are you doing here?”

“Ah, you’re awake.” The wizard stood with a smile, walking to sit beside her. “How are you feeling?” He pressed a palm against her forehead, checking the temperature, and hummed when he deemed it to be normal.

“Fine,” she mumbled. “But again – what are you doing here?”

“Astarion called.”

“Astarion?” Y/N was befuddled. She would’ve assumed Gale would be the last person ever he would contact, well, last except for her. Especially if he’d turned her into a spawn. No doubt would their friends come to battle if they heard such a thing. And yet Gale seemed perfectly content in the vampire’s castle.

“He sent such a panicked message, I portaled here as quickly as the Weave would allow and-,”

Gale was stopped mid-sentence as the door clicked open.

But the man standing in the doorway wasn’t the Astarion she’d known before, the man she had fallen head over heels in love with, or even the Ascended Astarion she’d spoken to that day. No. This Astarion had eyes as bright green as freshly grown grass, cheeks red and full of life and the blunt incisors of a human, hope and shame shining in his irises.

She whipped her head to Gale. “What in the name of all the Hells did you two do?”

“We saved your life,” the now ex-vampire entered the room, his movements slow as if Y/N was a deer he would startle if he did anything quicker than the pace of a snail. “And I paid the price for it.”

She swallowed hard. “And what exactly was the price?”

“My immortality.”

Now, Y/N assumed she’d been cured as she was inclined to believe not only because of Astarion’s transformation, but because Gale so meticulously was counting her breaths and heartbeat, but that confession almost did take her out, the shock of it all.

She threw a wary glance at the wizard. “So – so I’m not a spawn?”

“No,” Astarion shook his head. “But I don’t blame you for believing I would do such a… vile thing.”

Heavy silence settled in the room when she finally turned to look at him. “But I thought you had everything you ever wanted.”

“I did so too,” he nodded. “But when I smelled it, that – that sickness in your blood… I guess it is true what they say – love is the most powerful magic of all. Because the thought of you dying – it did something to my head… my heart. I could not let that happen.”

Y/N surveyed him, the new person standing before her. “You gave up everything for me. All the power… everything…”

“I won’t lie – I almost gave into the temptation, I almost did bite you. But these past five years were… miserable. And the thought of living the rest of eternity with the knowledge you hated me before you died… it wasn’t something I could do. Even with all the power in the world, the one weakness I have never been able to rid myself of is you.”

Neither noticed Gale clear his throat and motion towards the door, and neither noticed how it shut behind the wizard, leaving them on their own.

She watched as Astarion crossed the room, and sat himself down at the very foot of the bed, eyes locked onto the fingers in his lap. He was still as graceful as ever, but no longer was there this predatory supernatural sense to it. Now he was more a ballet dancer, than a stalking panther.

“So what happens now?”

“Now,” he sighed. “Now I don’t know. I didn’t really think further than Gale performing the ritual and hoping it would be enough.”

“Am I… immortal now?”

“No,” Astarion shook his head, and his smile was so warm, it almost knocked her back down to the bed. “You’re as human, as human can be. Only healthy now. Hopefully with many a decade before you yet to be lived.”

“And you?” she had to address the elephant in the room. “What exactly are you now?”

“I,” he sighed and looked at the wall. No, not the wall, but a large mirror, his eyes boring into the ones of his reflection. “I am what I was before Cazador. As common as a high elf can be.”

“I just don’t understand,” Y/N said. “I don’t get why you would do such a thing. Seven thousand spawn died for you to gain all that power, for you to prove you could complete what Cazador couldn’t. How could you just throw it all away?”

Astarion sighed, standing up and moving to the other side of the room where a large open door stood, leading out to a balcony. He leaned against the railing, and Y/N finally got out of the bed.

She could feel the strength having returned to her muscles. No longer did they ache, no longer did her bones scream, no longer did she feel tired and weak. A new zeal of life had filled her, and she couldn’t get why Astarion had given it all up for her to – what? Live maybe just a couple of more decades?

Together they leaned on the marble railing, overlooking the lush gardens, the flowers now a duller colour, but still as beautiful in moonlight, as they were in the sun.

“For five years I imagined what I would do if you showed up on my doorstep,” Astarion started. “There were times I imagined taking you and putting you in chains, dragging you to a dungeon and inflicting unspeakable pain, because that’s how it felt when you left. I wanted to do nothing but hurt you. And then I imagined how you would have come to your senses, how you would come and beg me to turn you into a spawn, finally realising your place was always beside me.”

He looked at her. “But then you did turn up. And all I could do was barely hold it together and not kiss you then and there. When you said you were dying, but that it would be a better life than with me, something… something cracked. Whether it was my sense coming back to me, the part of my brain that made good decisions being released from a prison of power, I don’t know.” Astarion chuckled. “But the only thing running through my head was – the one person that has always loved you selflessly, is dying. And you’re a pathetic coward that can’t do anything to stop it.”

“When Gale told me there was a way to heal you, but it would cost me, somehow I didn’t even pause to think. I just told him to do it. If the price for you being able to live a fulfilled life was having my power, my immortality stripped away, he could’ve for all I cared, spilled all my blood and let me bleed dry. As long as it meant you were here – living and breathing.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s what you would’ve done. And I couldn’t be bested by a dying woman. Would turn you into a full martyr, and I couldn’t have someone outshining me like that.”

Y/N wiped at her eyes and cleared her throat, letting out a choked back laugh. “What was the ritual?”

“Apparently Gale had been looking at certain transfers of power for a while.” Astarion shrugged. “When I contacted him, I didn’t even have anything specific in mind, I just knew he would probably be the best at figuring out what, if anything, could be done. Of course, had the answer been negative, it would not have ended well for our dear wizard, but you understand my point.”

“Well, I am glad Gale is still in one piece.” Y/N looked at him as she slowly covered his palm with hers. Astarion’s breath hitched, when she intertwined their fingers. “And I am grateful to the both of you for what you did. But I will forever be in debted to you.”

“No,” Astarion shook his head, tightening his hold, as if terrified she’d slip away like sand. “There is no debt to be repaid. Actually, I think I should be the one thanking you. For showing up. For even thinking I was worth enough to say goodbye to, but I have to ask… Were you ever going to tell? Had I not smelled it on you, would you have ever told anyone? Because when I told Gale, he was so stunned, I almost thought he would join you and pass out.”

“No,” Y/N shook her head. “By the time I decided I had to see you at least once more before I… well, you know… I’d already met all of our friends individually. I had thought of asking Shadowheart if there was a spell maybe, but ultimately, no.”

“Why would you keep something like that to yourself?”

“I didn’t feel like burdening the others.” She shrugged her shoulders. “We’ve all gone through so much darkness, have so much else to worry about, I didn’t want to add more to that.”

“Surely you know those idiots would ride blindfolded into battle for you.”

“I do. But it’s not like I would want that. Besides… if those were to be my last days, I wanted them to be filled with joy and fun things. Not with Halsin worrying if such excitement was healthy for me, or Lae’Zel scolding me for certain decisions. And let’s not even mention Karlach who’d cross the world searching for a cure that might not even exist.”

“And you left me for last…”

Y/N bit down hard on her lip. “Because it took everything in me to get over the hurt. Get over what you did and said. Because I was terrified you would slam the door in my face if I showed up.”

A tear rolled down his own cheek, as he bit the inside of it. “A fair assumption. And maybe if you’d come earlier, I would have. But… deep down I knew, I would have done everything to try and make you stay. Even through the haze of that power… my heart has always been yours. And still is. If you will have it.”

The words coming out of her mouth hurt, but they had to be said, despite how ardently she wished to say yes and return to how things were. But she knew she couldn’t neither of them could. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Astarion.” She could see him visibly shrink down, tears now unabated as they flowed like rivers from his eye. He wanted to pull away, but she didn’t let him, holding onto his hand tighter, running a soothing thumb over his hand, so warm and alive under her touch, it made her sigh.

 “You’ve just regained yourself.” Y/N tried to give what was an endearing smile, but was probably more a grimace.  “You’ve just become an elf again… there is so much you need to grasp and realise… I don’t think a relationship is what would be good right now.”

Two green eyes met her Y/E/C ones. Gods, the colour was so gorgeous, she felt like drowning in his gaze. “The only thing I was ever sure of in my life was you. Even as an Ascended bastard. And then I blew it. Absolutely smashed my chance to pieces like an idiot, but… if you’ll allow it. I would like another try. If only at being someone worthy to stand by your side.”

Y/N felt her lips quirk up. “Would it be overtly presumptuous of me to think, that by the end of it, you would wish to be more than friends?”

“If I am only allowed to be your friends, I will fall to my knees before you and beg for the chance. But no longer will I lie and say my true intentions aren’t to hopefully, one day, get on one knee, and wish for a shared life.”

She had not seen such a version of Astarion, so candid and vulnerable, since leaving him. And for him to be so open, made some resolve in her melt a bit. “We can try. Slowly.”

It was like a boulder had rolled off Astarion’s chest, his whole body visibly shuddering in relief, before he tentatively, as if waiting for her rejection, weaved a hand around her waist.

She rested her head against his shoulder, revelling in the feeling of him pressing his cheek to the top of it. And when he tilted her chin up, a hopeful gaze in his eyes as it slipped to her lips, she didn’t stop him when he pressed his mouth to hers.

It was like surfacing for a breath after years of being pulled down in an abyss, something Y/N never thought she’d be able to do again. And that kiss – it was filled with so much love, she didn’t need oxygen to breathe.

There was still a world of hurt between then, a universe of making up to be done, but they had time. They had all the time they wanted or could need.

“To a new start, my love.” She muttered against his lips, and the smile Astarion gave her was more brilliant than the moon and stars shining in the sky combined.

“And to a life worth living.”

The next kiss they shared sure as hells was.

Tags:

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird @omggiannarosa @poisonquinzell @iffazu @alisoncdariel

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstrange

A/N: My tags are always open

Please don't repost onto other platforms! That is called plaigarism :)

I also had an idea of writing this from Astarion's POV, so if that is something of interest, do let me know :)

[yanderecrazysie]

ur yandere bakugou is so good can u continue it?/nf

Of course! (This was written around the time I released “Hate That I Love You”, so I assumed that was the oneshot you were referring to- I hope that’s the case >3<)

Title: Hate That I Love You (Part 2)

Pairings: Bakugou x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, swearing, physical harm towards reader

Summary: Hating you would be easier than what Bakugou feels.

Part 1: here

“And I hate how much I love you, girl

I can’t stand how much I need you

And I hate how much I love you, girl

But I just can’t let you go

But I hate that I love you so.”

-from “Hate That I Love You” by Rhianna

 Bakugou couldn’t bring himself to throw away the Heroes Weekly magazine. Not when it had you featured on the cover and centerfold.

Of all things you could wear, why a swimsuit edition?

It doesn’t help that he’d taken to following you around like a lovestruck fanboy whenever you were on patrol and he wasn’t.

He wanted to show you how pissed off at you he was- hurt you like your words had hurt him.

Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

And maybe he could’ve been fine. He could’ve taken time to cool his head and get a hold on himself again.

If you hadn’t been assigned his sidekick for a full week.

He knew on the first day he wouldn’t make it long. He even considered calling out sick, because he sure felt sick. His stomach was in knots when he got close to you and he felt like he might throw up all over your iron-toed boots.

He had grown weak.

On your fourth patrol with him, he remembered what you had said about him not too long ago and decided to question you about it.

“I don’t remember saying that, sorry.”

You were so infuriating he wanted to strangle you right there and then. But he’d continue on, palms sweating and a blush constantly heating his cheeks, because he wouldn’t give in to these asinine feelings.

Bakugou’s a strange guy.

You couldn’t help but feel ashamed that he’d overheard you talking bad about him to other heroes. That was definitely not something you wanted to end up in the papers. You could see the headline now “Drama between two well-known heroes…”

There wasn’t any drama between you, though. He hated you equally as much as everyone else, if you could judge his glares and gruff orders correctly. Maybe a little more than that, since you had a feeling he didn’t approve of quirkless people trying to become heroes. 

The muscular pro hero was storming away… in the wrong direction. Letting out an annoyed huff, you called out to him and waved him over. If the lightning wasn’t so dim, you probably could have seen the blush spreading up his cheeks at your call.

“We were asked to go north, remember?” You were impatient, yes, but it wouldn’t be anything ruder than what Bakugou had to say to you every time he opened his mouth.

“Fuck that, we’re going south.”

You threw your arms up in the air, exasperated, “And why the hell are we going to do that?”

He glared back at you with blazing red eyes. His gaze was so fierce you were a little afraid you might spontaneously combust.

“Fine, fine, we’ll go south. Geez…” You reluctantly followed the explosive hero, knowing full well he wouldn’t listen to you anyways. It was easier to pretend you had a say than fight him on it and lose.

You followed him a ways, chewing on your lip in boredom. There wasn’t anything down this way and, if you got called to help, you’d both have to rush extra fast north. This was stupid. He was stupid. Why did you agree to help his stupid agency?

“Ladies first,” Bakugou said, mockingly gesturing towards a dark alleyway. Confusion and light suspicion clouded your mind. Why was he suddenly telling you to go ahead? Was he going to ditch you? Was he actually scared to go down a silly alley?

“Fine,” you scoffed,squeezing by him into the narrow alleyway, listening for the sound of him following you. It didn’t come and you started to turn around to yell at him to hurry up!

One of Bakugou’s small grenades came skittering down, rolling across your feet. You barely had a second to recoil in surprise before blinding light shocked your vision and your ears began to ring.

A flash grenade? What the hell?

You wanted to yell at him, but the sound in your ears was making your head spin. And your vision literally hurt.

Something made contact with the back of your head and your vision went from white to black, Bakugou catching you before your legs buckled too much. He swung your body up and over his shoulder like a bag of potatoes.

“Serves you right, lying to me,” he snorted, looking apprecaitively at your unconscious body.

Maybe he liked it better when you couldn’t talk back.

[renegadewangs]

Van Zieks - the Examination, part 2

Warnings: SPOILERS for The Great Ace Attorney: Chronicles. Additional warning for racist sentiments uttered by fictional characters (and screencaps to show these sentiments).

Disclaimer: (see Part 1 for the more detailed disclaimer.) - These posts are not meant to be taken as fact. Everything I'm outlining stems from my own views and experiences. If you believe that I've missed or misinterpreted something, please let me know so I can edit the post accordingly.  -The purpose of these posts is an analysis, nothing more. Please do not come into these posts expecting me to either defend Barok van Zieks from haters, nor expecting me to encourage the hatred. - I'm using the Western release of The Great Ace Attorney Chronicles for these posts, but may refer to the original Japanese dialogue of Dai Gyakuten Saiban if needed to compare what's said. This also means I’m using the localized names and localized romanization of the names to stay consistent. -It doesn't matter one bit to me whether you like Barok van Zieks or dislike him. However, I will ask that everyone who comments refrains from attacking real, actual people.

It’s time to take a close look at Episode 3, The Runaway Room!

Episode 3: The Runaway Room.

We're skipping the first two cases, as they have no relevance to Barok van Zieks, and starting off here.

So Ryu is tossed into the deep. The Lord Chief Justice tells him that he’s basically the defendant’s only hope; if he doesn’t at least try to fight in court, McGilded will lose the trial and die for sure. (HAH… Good one, Stronghart.) So Ryu falls for this would-be motivational speech and heads for the courthouse where he finds out why McGilded doesn’t have a defense attorney to begin with; it’s because of the prosecution. No one dares to go up against Lord Barok van Zieks, also known as the Reaper of the Old Bailey, because all who he prosecutes are damned. This should sound familiar to anyone who’s played an Ace Attorney game before. ‘The prosecution has never been defeated before’ is the implication, which would initially lead us to believe Van Zieks is another one of those prodigies. Sure enough, Susato points out he must be very talented, to which McGilded replies that Van Zieks is not talented, rather, he’s cursed. This sets the mood even further. With words like “Reaper” and “curse” being tossed around, we’re sooner reminded of a prosecutor like Simon Blackquill, who was a convicted murderer wielding psychological manipulation techniques. Either way, with the grim atmosphere set, Ryu is ushered into the courtroom before he can ask any more questions.

As a sidenote, McGilded really scored some negative points with this remark:

Feels a bit softened compared to how fan translations tackled that line, but a nasty jab all the same.

So anyway, entering the courtroom we get our first look at Van Zieks and if the foreshadowing in the Defendant Antechamber wasn’t already bad enough, he honors his eerie reputation.

So far, he’s meeting the requirements then. He’s intimidating and as a wealthy white man, he’s perfectly juxtaposed to Ryu, the rookie from another country. Meanwhile, the first micro-aggression of this trial is actually uttered by the judge:

Which also makes narrative sense. Ryu’s more practical goal isn’t to win the prosecution’s trust. Heck, he could get through any trial just fine with Van Zieks’s dislike. No, what he needs is to win over the judge and the members of the jury. For them to also hold prejudice but put that aside in order to side with the truth is another important end-game here. So let’s continue. Van Zieks also has something to say here:

Initially, the remark about Ryu’s eyes might read as a typical racist jab towards someone from the East, but he is in fact referring to the way Ryu’s eyes are ‘swimming’ when he’s nervous, as evidenced by the next lines. “They shroud your fear, your doubt, your trepidation… They run wild, clinging to some phantom notion of courage.” Van Zieks is saying that while Ryu puts up a brave front, his swimming eyes betray just how nervous and unsure of his cause he really is. So really, he’s targeting the fact that Ryu is new to the courts. He did, however, make a point of tossing the word “Nipponese” in there when he didn’t need to, drawing attention to Ryu’s race in a derogatory fashion.

After the jurors are introduced, something else of interest happens. The judge points out that Van Zieks hasn’t been seen in the courtroom in a number of years. The judge had assumed that Van Zieks had renounced his fame, to which he replies with the following:

This is a very telling line. We learn several things. Firstly, Van Zieks had retired, and secondly, he doesn’t seem to think too highly of his title of Reaper. If he did, he would have gloated. To describe his reputation as infamy implies negative associations with this ‘curse’ that McGilded spoke of. Putting these two things together, one might conclude he retired because of this curse. When asked why he’s returned to the courts, he says that he’ll leave that to the judge’s imagination. So there’s hints of a backstory already being tossed in before the trial’s even properly kicked off.

Which it does now. So the opening statement happens as always and witnesses are brought in, but once it’s done Ryu interjects to say that he doesn’t understand the circumstances. ‘How could the witnesses have seen the inside of a moving carriage’? It shocks the entire courtroom and Van Zieks is the one to speak:

“-But you’re here in London yourself. Are you really so ignorant about our omnibuses? Tell me, my Nipponese friend… Have you even travelled in an omnibus?”

I have to be honest, I struggled to pinpoint just how I felt about these remarks. Sure, I can overanalyze this, looking at how the words “I’d read-” imply he doesn’t know the following sentiment to be true and therefore doesn’t feel confident enough to say something like “I knew-”... But it doesn’t change that he’s being scummy here. In a roundabout way, he’s still saying Japan is far less civilised than Britain and that Ryu is extra ignorant for not knowing about omnibuses when he’s in London. So basically, he gets scumbag points for this. But then there’s…:

Which is just a basic jab at Ryu’s intelligence. It’s the sort of remark we’d get from every single prosecutor. I think even Klavier would say this sort of line with a smile on his face.

But definitely more scumbag points here, because this was a direct attack in more ways than one. Particularly the word “stray” was uncalled for. CEO of Racism, indeed. Something very interesting happens when the knife gets pulled into the story halfway into the first cross-examination, though. When Ryu asks about it, Van Zieks replies with this:

He’s… actually being civil? (I doublechecked with Scarlet Study, and they are in agreement on the timid nature of this line, translating “yes, Counsel” as “Quite so”.) Instead, Van Zieks turns his attention to the fact that there’s an M on the sheath, directing all his offensive attitude towards McGilded. It gets even more curious when the last juror refuses to cast a guilty verdict, instead talking about what a good man she believes McGilded to be. Van Zieks says:

So he’s not only frustrated with McGilded now, he’s frustrated with the people of London for not knowing what sort of person McGilded really is. Van Zieks reveals he’s a dirty money lender who gained his fortune through corrupt means. He even takes the time to inform Ryu of this with the words “Your client is a shylock, sir!” Edit: I feel a need to address this: shylock is a word with antisemitic roots. It originally came from a Shakespeare play involving a very bad stereotype. It later evolved to have a more broad meaning basically synonymous to loan shark and I think that’s the context the localization means to use it in. There’s absolutely no indication of McGilded’s religious beliefs and even if there were, I highly doubt the localization would use that sort of slur. Still, it’s a very unfortunate choice of words and is sure to accidentally sour Van Zieks even more with some players.

With that, the last juror votes, the scale tips towards Guilty and Van Zieks assumes the trial to be over. He thanks the jurors for their work. Unfortunately, once Susato brings up the Summation Examination, Van Zieks gets very frustrated again. This happens:

IIII don’t know what to do with this line. On first glance, I didn’t think much of it and was even willing to consider it was a compliment. Then I thought it must’ve been passive aggressive somehow; that it’s the sort of thing he wouldn’t believe until he’d seen it with his own eyes. A friend directed me to the notion that it might be referencing a stereotype that ‘Eastern women are fierce’ because they were associated with, well, certain ‘paid services’. I don’t think I need to explain, I’m sure you understand what I mean. And if indeed that’s what Barok is insinuating, that’s a new low I never thought he’d reach. However, when you’ve finished the games and know that Barok was friends with a married Japanese man, it’s entirely possible that he’s remembering a story once told to him by Genshin Asogi. So this is either a bittersweet reminiscence or the most scumbag association he ever could’ve made, but I’m not sure we can ever prove which it is. Edit: As another option, it’s possible he’s referring to the Yamato Nadeshiko stereotype, if indeed it already held the ‘touch of iron’ aspect to it back in 1900. He proceeds to toast his hallowed chalice to “the enigmatic East” and to be honest, I’ve once again got nothing. All I know is that he once again drew attention to the defense’s race when he didn’t need to, so… Scumbag point. As a sidenote, in regards to the wine… I don’t count this as a humanizing trait. The same applies to the leg slam. These are animations meant to add some more lighthearted air and breathe more life into Van Zieks, so he doesn’t just stand there like a statue. They’re just quirks meant to have him stand out from other characters. So yeah, fun as the wine and leg slam animations are, they don’t count in the redemption requirements. Anyway, Van Zieks mocks the age of Susato’s book, saying that judging by its bindings it must be fifty years old. Considering the context of the conversation, this isn’t out of bounds. The defense is using ‘outdated’ information on the law, so he points that out. Any prosecutor would’ve done it like this. Simon Blackquill likely would’ve offered to shred that outdated tome to bits for Susato. Van Zieks does toss in a “Hmph, typical Nipponese” later though, which earns him one more scumbag point. Van Zieks continues to dismiss the Summation Examination, but the judge overrules him and allows it. Law is law, after all! And this is what I meant in my previous post when I said it’s satisfying to see Ryu use actual British law against Van Zieks. Ryu is using a perfectly legitimate technique to win the jurors over, and as Susato tells him, he can only do it by turning the jurors against one another with facts. He can’t appeal to them, he can only have them see sense. Which is difficult, because some jurors are more prejudiced than others:

… Yeah. Uh. Calling Ryu a “Dark Jinx” is pretty awful. Scumbag points for Juror No. 1! Meanwhile, Juror No. 4 keeps us updated on Barok’s actions throughout this trial:

Wow. Typical prosecutor behavior, though. Regardless, Ryu manages to win them all over in the end. With enough of the scales set back to not-guilty, the trial is allowed to continue, which leads to this:

Bye, hallowed chalice. A fun animation to keep things fresh and show us that the trial is about to take a turn. Once again, nothing new. We’ve seen prosecutors lose their patience before. What does interest me, though, is that Barok doesn’t direct physical frustration towards the defense. Remember: Franziska snaps a whip at Phoenix, Godot throws coffee at his head, Blackquill sends a hawk to attack the defense or uses that aijutsu slicing move, Nahyuta throws restricting beads… These were all direct physical attacks. Van Zieks, much like Edgeworth and Klavier, directs his frustration more inward and as a result he destroys his own property.

He succeeds in intimidating Ryu, though. Van Zieks explains that he kept silent, as is the norm during Examination Summation, but makes it clear that he considers it a charade all the same.

Van Zieks has been a pretty good gentleman towards the jury up until now, speaking to them politely despite that one remark about having their head in the clouds. Now that he’s seeing them ‘buy into Ryu’s stories’, as one might describe it, he’s getting frustrated with them. Maybe he’s even frustrated they’re choosing the defense’s side over his own.

He removes his cloak, entering what he says to be the next round of their ‘battle’. More typical prosecutor behavior, this. I’m not sure there’s an underlying thought to this, other than to indicate to the audience that ‘things have gotten serious’. When the next bit of testimony is going on, I noticed something odd. Both Fairplay and Furst testify to having seen blood on McGilded’s hands, to which Van Zieks says:

“... Reported that there was no trace of blood on Mr. McGilded’s gloved hands.” So in a way, by establishing this fact, he’s helping the defense and going against what the witnesses are saying. It doesn’t help the prosecution in any way at all.

The trial continues on, with Van Zieks uttering things like “My Nipponese friend” and “my learned friend from the East” and lord knows what else… I suppose to soften the harshness of the original wording a bit and make Van Zieks just a bit less dislikable? Edit: Tumblr user @beevean​ has pointed out that “my learned friend” is an actual term used in courts of law. There’s a tradition (also employed in British courts of law) that when addressing either the court or the judge, a barrister refers to the opposing counsel using the respectful term, "my learned friend". Of course, it can be said with an air of passive aggression and pretending to be respectful to the court while shamelessly disrespecting it is something Barok has always done, so the addition of “my learned friend” to the localization text is amazingly in-character. Then of course we have:

This is both a scumbag remark and foreshadowing. Naturally, those playing the game for the first time won’t recognize it as the latter and therefore take it as nothing more than a harsh blow. Things spiral even further out of control when he starts talking about how people who claim the island nations of the Far East have a learning and culture of their own use those terms ill-advisedly. He also uses the words “artless backwater” and really, this is the low point of the trial right here when it comes to prejudice. Van Zieks is just plain lashing out with these sort of jabs.

Eventually, McGilded is dragged onto the witness stand to testify about whether or not there was another passenger aboard the omnibus. McGilded admits that there was, and Van Zieks snaps at him some more for using convenient excuses. Ryu is forgotten here for a moment. The whole smoke bomb thing happens, Van Zieks confers with McGilded and Gina in his own chambers, then the trial resumes. McGilded testifies, then Gina testifies… The jury votes not-guilty, buying into McGilded’s story about protecting a poor young pickpocket and Van Zieks loses it. He slams his heel down on the bench, pointing out that this is why he doesn’t like the jury system; because emotions are ruling where evidence and facts ought to be paramount. He points out while the cubbyhole Gina had been hiding in was empty now, it had been full of the coachman’s belongings during the police investigation. Someone tampered with the omnibus. This is where things get interesting, because Van Zieks addresses Ryu:

He’s giving Ryu the benefit of the doubt here. He’s offering an option for Ryu to be truthful about this matter. And that’s curious, because any defense attorney would naturally say what’s best for his client- or so it’s assumed. It puts Ryu in a difficult position for sure, but for some reason Van Zieks put the question forward anyway. The game responds as follows:

For the sake of argument, I attempted all three options. So when Ryu says he didn’t look, Van Zieks says: “Hm… Perhaps I credited you with too much intelligence.”

So when feigning ignorance, Van Zieks is kind of a scumbag about it. He is correct in his expectation that any attorney worth his badge would thoroughly examine the details of the evidence, but he didn’t need to be such a jerk about it. Now, when outright lying and saying it was empty, Van Zieks instead says:

The lines are very similar, which is an interesting note. It adds a feel of these responses being 'rehearsed', in a way. Just a default for him to fall back to. But the real kicker comes when Ryu tells the truth and says it wasn’t empty. Van Zieks is actually speechless at first with no more than a “...!” Clearly, he wasn’t expecting Ryu to respond like this. Everyone in court is baffled, McGilded gets angry… Van Zieks is a bit rattled now.

“Your task is to defend the man in the stand. Why would you say something to compromise his position?”

So really, it seems as if Van Zieks had only ever offered the question to Ryu with pessimistic intentions. He too had assumed there was only one answer the defense could give and was prepared for just that with his silly little wine analogies, only to be shocked when Ryu defies his expectations. Ryu confesses that he’s not entirely sure on where he stands in the matter, to which Van Zieks replies with “... Interesting.” 

So now the jury members are doubting themselves again, with some offering guilty verdicts. Van Zieks decides to honor the ‘Scales of Justice’ once more now that they’re back in his favor, like the hypocrite he is. Gina testifies, Ryu points out an inconsistency, Van Zieks takes that opportunity to turn the tables back in his favor by implying Gina is a liar… He passive aggressively thanks Ryu for saving him considerable trouble and whatnot with some more “my learned Nipponese friend” remarks in there… Ryu turns the tables once more by insisting the victim came into the omnibus through the skylight, Van Zieks demands evidence and points out that furthermore, if indeed such a thing had happened, the witnesses on the roof would’ve seen it. McGilded hops into the conversation to imply that the witnesses themselves were the killers, which sends the court into a frenzy. Both Van Zieks and the judge shift the responsibility of the accusation towards Ryu, even though he never said a word to directly accuse the witnesses. Kind of a douchey move. Barok even states that Ryu’s ‘command of the English tongue must be wanting’, since

Yeahhh, that's pretty unfair. McGilded was the one who dropped that implication. However, since the judge basically accuses Ryu of the same thing, it’s a narrative choice to warn Ryu he needs to anticipate where his reasoning will lead him. Fairplay and Furst testify, pandemonium ensues. McGilded eventually gets what he wants when it’s revealed the skylight can open and there’s blood in there. Van Zieks once again turns his attention to McGilded:

He knows McGilded is at the root of all this tomfoolery and evidence manipulation. McGilded is the real enemy here, in Van Zieks’s eyes. The conversation shows this by having Van Zieks point out that he’s well aware of McGilded’s involvement in dubious matters and that evidence is often ‘adapted’ to suit this guy’s stories. And now, once again, he turns his attention to Ryu. Once again, he’s giving the defense the benefit of the doubt:

The game gives you the illusion of choice here. If you choose to say it’s ‘out of the question’ that the evidence was tampered with, Ryu will refuse to say it out loud. If you say it’s entirely possible, Ryu will admit to that.

This is probably baffling to Van Zieks. It would’ve been so easy for Ryu to insist the tampering couldn’t have happened, but he doesn’t. The game won’t even let him. No matter what you choose, Van Zieks is clued in on the fact that Ryu doesn’t condone the deceit that McGilded is resorting to. But it gets even better, because a short time later, we get:

Another option to either draw attention to forgery, or to feign ignorance. Once again, I chose both options for argument’s sake, but having Ryu say he has no idea doesn’t get us anywhere. Susato will instead object to say it for him. With “I have an inkling”, Ryu says it himself. Van Zieks once again confesses, in his own words, that he’s caught off guard.

Ryu clarifies that he thinks the blood stain inside the omnibus is decisive evidence, but he can’t say for certain whether it’s genuine. McGilded loses it and by this point, is outright branding Van Zieks an enemy. Since the player at this point doesn't know whether McGilded is guilty or not, it leaves Van Zieks in a bit of narrative limbo. One might think: 'if the prosecutor is so intent on taking down a murderer, shouldn't we be on his side? Is he perhaps not as bad as he seems?' Unfortunately, McGilded points out that recollection and memories don’t matter, only evidence does. And… Well.

Which means they can’t rule on a guilty verdict and will have to let McGilded go. Van Zieks admits that he has no more witnesses or evidence to present. He’s out of options. As a formality, the judge asks the defense’s closing statement and we get one last option. Do we believe him to be guilty or not-guilty? When claiming he’s innocent, Van Zieks says:

It seems he means “abject” in the sense of “without pride/respect/dignity for oneself”, which… You know, is fair. By this point it’s very clear that McGilded is guilty, and since Ryu has already admitted that the evidence may be forged, insisting otherwise is indeed pretty spineless. Scumbag points to Van Zieks for continuing to draw attention to the fact that Ryu is from Japan, though.

Let’s instead just admit that we can’t say for certain McGilded is innocent. Unfortunately, we don’t see Van Zieks react to this, which is a bummer because this could’ve been very telling. The judge questions Ryu’s sanity (no joke) and McGilded laughs because it doesn’t matter; it was just a formality anyway. The judge scolds Van Zieks, saying that his case was flawed and it was his job to keep the evidence secure. Instead of objecting, Van Zieks just outright takes the blame for this and apologizes. Very interesting reaction, here. He stops pointing the finger to McGilded, he doesn’t attempt to accuse anyone else… He just admits his performance was flawed. Ryu tries to interject here:

(A badly-timed screenshot if I’ve ever seen one.) Ryu is making an attempt here to defend Van Zieks, the guy who has built up like 20 scumbag points by now. Ryu sincerely doesn’t hold a grudge against him. That’s very interesting. It doesn’t matter, though. The judge won’t hear of it, Ryu thinks it’s unfair, Van Zieks warns McGilded that this isn’t over and then we get the not-guilty verdict.

Hurray??? Profit??? It’s a victory that’s bound to leave the player feeling conflicted and jarred.

But after all’s said and done, we get one last cutscene to establish just how ominous Van Zieks really is. The omnibus is on fire, someone is inside and we know McGilded went into the courtroom earlier to investigate the omnibus in question. So really, by putting two and two together we can already guess what’s going on here. Van Zieks approaches the scene and watches silently.

It’s a good reminder to us that every defendant he prosecutes is ‘damned’ and he’s called the Reaper for a reason. Really puts the finishing touch on the eerie undertones of his character.

All in all, a pretty typical first time against a new prosecutor. Now I just want to draw attention to the fact that the first time we face Van Zieks in court… he’s actually on the right side of the courtroom and Ryu is not. Van Zieks presumably specifically returned to the court after those five years to target McGilded, as he knows about this guy’s shady reputation when it comes to ‘adapting’ evidence. Barok is 'cursed' in such a way that every defendant he faces is damned. So long as he stands as the prosecutor, McGilded can’t get away with his crimes. No matter how much forgery is done, the Reaper will go after McGilded and it seems Van Zieks was banking on this happening.

He likely also expected Ryu to have been bought off by McGilded; to say whatever’s convenient for his case. Turns out, Ryu is actually a man of integrity who’s invested in the truth and near the end of the trial, Barok has seen evidence of this. So what will happen next? We’ll have to play The Clouded Kokoro and find out! Stay tuned!

[quirklessidiot]

Title: coward :: choco pies Pairing: Y/N x Miya Atsumu  Genre: major angst train ahead, romance, and very slow burn [ex to lovers au] Synopsis: its been eight years since you first met Miya Atsumu, six years since you broke it off.  Warnings: Cursing, alchohol, mentions of unprotected sex, unplanned pregnancy, and mentions of abortion. Notes: I am super happy by the positive response sIKE thank u so much, i hope yall stay safe in this pandemic!

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“...L/N-san, why aren’t you going to the banquet tonight?”

“I’m busy.” you simply replied to your co-worker, not even looking up from the sheets of finance papers in your hands, your brows furrowing in deep thought as you encircled some mistakes on the paper.

“It's the weekend tomorrow!” Aiko exclaims, shaking you lightly, “You can take your work home and finish it there! This is only held once a year and it's your first year in the company! You can’t miss it!”

You finally turned to your over-enthusiastic office mate and narrowed your eyes, “I can’t miss the grocery sale tonight.” You deadpan. Aiko blinks once then twice and suddenly she bursts out into a boisterous laugh, “Y-You got me there, Y/N.” she says, clutching her stomach.

Your expression remains the same though and it slowly dawned upon your raven-haired office mate that you weren’t joking at all, “Oh, you were serious.” Aiko stops laughing, realizing how stupid she must’ve looked. You return to your work but she continues to stare at you, ever since you entered the company six months ago, you refused to attend any work-related parties or do a lot of overtimes (this wasn’t a surprise, you always managed to finish your work before deadline)

No one really knew you at the office, you had a mysterious air around you and a rather intimidating aura that scared about half of the people in the finance department, oddly enough, Aiko was one of the few who approached you and made conversation. It was more one-sided in Aiko’s part though since your replies were usually curt and to the point.

The only thing scary about you was how blank your expression was ninety percent of the time.

“Can’t you go to the grocery tomorrow?”

“Can’t.” Your voice seemed a bit assertive now, “Those limited choco pie editions are coming out and they sold out pretty quick.”

“Choco pie?” Aiko blinked, “Aren’t you diabetic?”

“It’s for my kids.”

Kids.

Kids.

Kids?

“What the fuck, Y/N?” she cursed, her eyes as wide as an owl, “My kids? You have kids?”

You hummed a reply, continuing your work, clearly not surprised by her reaction since you were used to these types of things, “Twins actually, they’re in the first grade.” you corrected, remaining indifferent.

“You.” she paused, “You, the Y/N L/N, have kids. Like blood-related kids? With a husband and all that?”

“Yes, although the dad moved on.” You stopped encircling the file, a brief memory of the blonde slowly crossed your mind, “He’s in a better place now.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, per say, your ex was technically in a better place now. He’s a famous pro-volleyball player who represented Japan two years ago in the Olympics and was currently part of the top national teams in the country. 

You just didn’t bother correcting them when they thought he’s dead.

“Oh, oh, I’m so sorry.” 

“Hm.” You simply hummed a response, “I don’t like leaving them alone a lot.”

“I-I understand,” Aiko sighs, comforting you but it's deaf on your ears as usual, “Have you never considered dating again?”

“Waste of time.”

“Like ever?”

“I’ve got two growing boys, they’re enough for me already.”

Aiko shuts her mouth when she notices that your tone is sharp as if you’re telling her to drop the topic because it’s not in your best interest as of the moment, “May I see what they look like, L/N-san?” she asks in pure curiosity, changing the subject instead.

You simply open your phone next to you and there sits the lockscreen of two wide-grinning and identical-looking boys with raven-colored hair, “They don’t look like you.” she loudly observes but you’re not at all hurt by it.

“They got the best parts from their otosan, I guess.” 

The only thing the boys got from you was your eye color, it seemed like they were their father through and through in terms of looks, over-enthusiastic attitude, and love for the sport. In fact, only recently, the youngest twin had expressed his excitement to learn volleyball, the oldest, being the competitive one too, decided to join in and expressed that he had started to truly like it after a class.

Thankfully, your officemate doesn’t pry more about your life. You ended up resuming your work without much disturbance. You try to finish quickly, you have a sale to catch after all.

People often found it odd when you pointed out that you were the mother of Youta and Yuuto, for one, they looked and acted nothing like you. If you had to describe them, it would be balls of sunshine while you were just the gloomy rain clouds looming over them. It was definitely an amusing sight for many when they got to know your dynamic and many wondered how you made it work.

You watched the pair rush down the grocery lane in a hurry as you push the cart filled with essentials needed for this month, Youta was annoying his twin once again as they paced down the snack lane and tried to find the choco pie they’ve been raving about these past two weeks, “Slow down, you’ll fall.” You scolded lightly.

“Hai!” They called out in unison as they went behind one of the shelves, you stopped to take a biscuit off the shelf and read the nutritional facts, keeping an eye out on your boys from time to time. You suddenly felt a presence on your side, were they done taking the choco pie already? Sighing under your breath, you’re getting ready to be fake scared because they loved sneaking up on you but when you feel no tug on your leg, you’re immediately surprised for real by the familiar face in front of you.

“Miya-san?” 

You regain your composure almost immediately, not wanting him to notice how tense and scared you were, amongst everyone you had to run into, it had to be the twin brother of your ex, “ Well this is a surprise.” he greets, you could feel the distant tone on his voice and you weren’t phased by it the slightest, after what you did to his other half, you’re surprised he even approached you, “Me and ‘tsumu wondered where the hell you ended up after disappearing on him randomly and breaking up over the phone after a week.”

It wasn’t exactly the best plan but it was the fastest way out.

“I apologize.” You bowed down, you were sincerely sorry about what happened but if you could’ve done it again, you’d do it for the sake of your kids and his career, “Whenever I look back, I knew I could’ve done something better than treat him like that.”

Osamu’s brow quirks up, you were still as calm, cool, and collected as you were six years ago. It was scary how Atsumu fell for you when you were this unphased and cold. What the hell was he on when he fell in love with you?

“Well, thanks to you, he worked himself to the bone.” He shrugs, “He’s got a better life now.”

“I know.”

It may not look like it but from time to time, you’d check up and see how he was doing. Even more so during these days since your boys were getting into volleyball. Youta’s favorite was Hinata since he was one of the small guys in the league and he played very, very well. Ironically, Yuuto’s favorite setter was not his own father but a guy named Kageyama Tobio from the adlers who could set the ball at any place and had the greatest timing ever.

“He’s got a girl too.”

“That’s goo-”

“ ‘Kaasan!” A loud yell bursts out, cutting out the younger Miya twin. Osamu looks around, wondering who the boy was calling but when he realizes it was you, he’s in shock and he doesn’t even hide it. The cold facade he was waving in front of you immediately diminished when two identical looking boys ran to you at a fast speed, one clung onto your leg while the other was tattle-taling.

“Oh, is that Miya Atsumu, ‘kaasan? You didn’t tell me you knew him!” Yuuto points out, staring at the large man in complete awe. Youta who seems to finally notice who the guy was, immediately lets go of your leg and joins in with his twin, completely forgetting about the little spat they have.

“I’m his twin.” he corrects, Osamu wasn’t very good with talking to kids yet they didn’t seem to mind at all, they were still as excited when they realized that he used to play too and was the one who spiked his brothers sets back then.

“Woah,” Yuuto exclaims, “How are you not in volleyball? I betcha as good as him! Mom would comment how good he plays when we watch him on TV and mom hates sports!”

Osamu doesn’t know what to say next, he’s just surprised that you even watched and kept track of his twin brother after all those harsh words you said on the phone, what’s even more surprising was that you were a mom (and someone's wife probably)  and you seem to have a good life judging by these kids energetic upkeep. 

“...wish we could watch it live though! I heard the adlers and the jackal’s have another game soon!” Yuuto frowns, crossing his arms, “ ‘kaasan’s always busy.”

“How about yer otosan?” Osamu wanted to let that out for a while, he’s very curious to see who you settled down with, according to one of the many stories about you from his twin,  you weren’t a big fan of marriage and settling down permanently. 

“Oh,” Youta blinks, “Kaasan says otosan’s in a better place now. Do you know what that means, Mister?”

Osamu feels his throat constrict at how casual and nonchalant the boy is, he probably got that characteristic from you. These set of twins dealt with the idea of death way too casually towards a stranger.

“Baby, I think you should give him a rest now. Why don’t you both grab the wafers over there.” You try to calmly take them away in front of the grey-haired man, you didn’t want Osamu to keep interacting with them. There would be breadcrumbs left if the boys kept divulging about their lives towards him, Osamu had always been quick-witted despite his quiet nature.

The boys seemed downcasted right after but they listened quickly and wobbled towards the wafer shelf at the front.

“I thought ya didn’t want to get married.” 

“We didn’t,” you blinked, “He was gone before the boys were born, I wasn’t able to tell him.”

Osamu’s eyes narrowed, “You love him or something?” 

“I do,” you replied coolly, “Very much so until today.”

“I see,” the grey-haired man was still looking at you, trying to gouge any reaction but you remained the same, “I wish you did the same to my brother.”

“He seems happy and successful now.” was all you could reply to his bitter phrase, “As sorry as I am, I can’t take back what I did. I can only atone and keep moving forward.”

Miya Osamu wants to yell at you because you didn’t see the state his brother was in after you left but he couldn’t bring himself to, after all, it seemed like you were unappalled by him and that his words would mean absolutely nothing.

“Then I hope I don’t see you again, L/N-san.” he spat, putting as much hatred in his words as possible.

“Have a good night, Miya-san.” You simply replied, bowing down. 

“I wish you did the same to my brother.”

“Kaasan says otosan is in a better place now.”

“Kaasan, do you think otosan would be proud if I became the super best volleyball player?”

“Stupid, it should be the both of us who’re the best!”

“Yeah! If we became the super best volleyball players, maybe he’d come back from that better place when he sees us on tv!”

You suddenly dropped the plate you were holding, a loud sound resonated in the small kitchen. Shakily, as you picked up the broken shards of the plate, you felt something trickling down your cheeks, “Ah…” you breathed out, wiping out the stray tear.

When was the last time you cried?

“Kaasan?” a small voice called out, you hurriedly wipe out the tears and pick up the broken shards of the plates before turning to the two boys in transformer pajamas.

“Hey.” you tried to reply steadily but the little lump on your throat prevented you from doing so, “Have you brushed your teeth?”

The boys gave each other a quick glance and the only thing they replied with was opening their arms to you, you blink for a moment,surprised by their quietness and their open arms, “When we have a bad day, you’d always do this to us.” Youta mutters, seemingly shy by this, they were never one for big hugs and kisses, saying they were big boys now.

“Did that miya atsumu-fake make you cry, kaasan? Should we get’im?” Yuuto grumbles, their attitude seems to contrast their exciting ones a while ago.

You bend down to their level and just encompassed them in a hug, “Kaasan’s just tired,” you hummed as you buried yourself between them, seeping in the warmth of their hugs and comfort, “I’m all better now, I’ve got you two anyways.”

You placed the small encounter you had with Miya Osamu at the back of your head, not wanting it to be a distraction or a hindrance. You couldn’t cry in front of your kids anymore than that night, you shouldn’t. You were a single parent, the only rock and permanent companion your kids would have for the rest of their lives, you couldn’t let them down.

“L/N-san have you heard?” 

Thankfully it was your day-off today and you could pick up the boys earlier than usual. The mom next to you looked more excited and elated, you were betting that this had something to do with gossip around their circles.

“I’m sure she hasn’t, she’s a rather busy mom, akiko-san.” another gushed.

“Ah yes!” she giggled, “Sorry I can’t contain my excitement but Sugawara-sensei is very good friends with a member of the black jackals, apparently he was his kohai back in high school.”

You feel your shoulders tense, it couldn’t be right? The amount of coincidences seemed to hit you like a truck, first osamu, now your kids teacher?

“Ninja Shoyou was it? Yes, well, they’ve decided to host a mini training camp this weekend! All the members would be there! Ah, I hope my boy gets noticed!” Riya grins, “Your boys would be very pumped, right? I personally heard Sensei telling them how natural they seemed to be. They even had their own jerseys made for the class!”

You could only nervously nod along and excuse yourself, you wanted to hurry home and deny your boys to go to this training camp. As much as you supported their love for the sport, you weren’t ready for them to meet him. They loved to blab and if Atsumu were to get wind of them, what would he say?

You didn’t want him to deny them right at their faces.

At the same time, somewhere at an upstate part of the city. Miya Atsumu lays on his bed with a naked woman sprawled next to him. His head’s fuzzy from the alcohol he drank last night and how early he and his partner had finished.

“What the fuck, put some clothes on, ya freak.” He hears his brother curse as soon as he goes out of his bedroom. Osamu would randomly make an appearance in Tokyo to fix up his plans for the franchising of his store.

“Thought you had your own place to crash?” Atsumu ignores his brother’s statement as he grabs a short that had been thrown to the side last night.

“I’m going back later, thought I’d swing by before I went home.”

“How nice of you.” the blonde deadpanned, “You should leave though, Riku’s still here.”

“You don’t say...you lot like to go at it like animals in heat.” he mutters, a look of disgust crossed his features, “I’m just here to drop by some food, I can’t leave you dying.”

“Could’ve left it in the ref and dashed off when you saw the panty on the couch.”

“Again,” Osamu crinkles his nose, “Disgusting. Kita-san would throw some disinfectant at you.”

The blonde rolled his eyes in reply as he grabbed some water by the refrigerator, Osamu watched his brother for a bit, wondering if he should tell him. They’ve never talked about Y/N after that phone call six years ago, he had to walk on eggshells around his brother for a year because of that, taking in a quick breather, he confessed, “I saw Y/N.” 

The room turned silent, Osamu waits for a reaction, a curse or anything similar to that yet he’s surprised by the lazy smirk adorning his brother's features, “Hn, it looks like you’re the one who she called and broke up with on the phone.” he laughs.

Osamu is wary but he doesn’t push it, “I was just surprised that’s all, you weren’t exactly in a good place after she left.”

“That was ages ago, ‘samu!” he exclaims, shaking it off, “I betcha she still doesn’t give two shits about me and what happened because that’s how she is but i don’t care because i’m living the life now! I’ve even got a nicer and prettier girl now! Who, mind you, is better than her in many emotional levels. Y/N’s history.”

Osamu didn’t want to tell him about the kids or the ‘man’ you met after Atsumu who you claim to love very dearly so he kept his mouth shut and just went with the flow of the conversation. Not pointing out how his twin just changed the topic right after as if he didn’t want to dwell on it and open anymore wounds.

tag list (closed)

@fortheloveofiwaizumi @svtbitch @ryaaaax @kiyoomile @lovedanii @juno-multifandom​ @gyubit17​

[im-whatchamccallit]

New Normal//Mark Tuan (Got7)

Request: Could you write a Mark Tuan Scenario where he starts crushing on the shy short cute girl that works at his local grocery store? I hope this makes sense and I hope you are staying safe and healthy!

Pairing: Idol!Mark Tuan x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: Mentions of Covid-19

Words: 4.5k

(A/N: This is kinda all over the place so sorry about that (Also running on 0 hours of sleep for the past two days so the editing is a little sloppy). And I feel like I didn’t really execute the concept too well but this was just one of the plots I came up with that honestly stuck with me

Mark put on the fakest genuine smile he could as the two girls snapped photos, quickly pulling his mask back on as they checked to make sure the pictures came out perfectly. He was prepared to walk away as they said their thanks, bowing politely and even inching further from the area, only to stop with wide eyes.

“Wait, Mark, do you live in this neighborhood? We live just a few blocks away, I can’t believe we haven’t seen you bef-“

“N-no! No, I’m not from the area, I just had to find a fully stocked grocery store is all. Everyone’s been going crazy since the outbreak so-“

“Right!” The girls spoke simultaneously, still not moving away as they discussed how people have been handling Covid-19 so far, Mark staring intently and nodding as if he were listening but, really, he was using all his willpower to not roll his eyes in annoyance.

Mark didn’t hate his fans, he adored them more than anything, but the idea that even during a pandemic they would bother him for photos and autographs, even in a busy and buzzing grocery store, was irritating. He didn’t even want to leave his home that day, but the fact he was running low on toiletries and needed more perishables made the trip essential. But after standing in this one spot for the past ten minutes with a shopping cart filled with food, tissue, and body wash, and two girls that seemed to be in their own world as their topic jumped from Covid to Loona fancams, he was determined to make this his last trip for at least a month.

“But did you see Yves?! She’s so pretty and-“

“Excuse me, I’m going to have to ask you to move from the area and maintain a distance of 2 meters between all of you.” A man said with a cheery voice and smile that could be seen through his mask although it reached his eyes as well.

“Oh! Sorry! Thank you for the photos!” One of them said, dragging her friend along as Mark let out a sigh of relief, the man stepping slightly closer to him but not enough to invade his space.

“You don’t have to leave the area. One of our cashiers said those girls wouldn’t leave you alone and assumed you needed help. Sorry to disturb you.” He said, preparing to walk off before Mark hurried to tap his shoulder.

“Wait, which cashier?” He asked. He was tired of human contact at this point, but really thought they deserved a proper thanking.

“Oh, right there. Her name’s (Y/n).” He said, giving one more smile before finally walking off.

It seems like you had been watching the scene unfold for a while, gaze intense and focused on the male ahead of you and, even as you watched your manager point in your direction, causing him to lock eyes with you, you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. Well, not until you saw him walk in your direction with his cart ahead of him.

You didn’t mean to stare at him, it was natural for your eyes to wander to people entering the store, but to see someone this attractive? It felt like you spotted a unicorn. You would glance up occasionally to see if he’d pass by again, watching him going back and forth in the aisles as if he’d been there forever, yet you’ve never seen him before. Maybe it’s because you were working full-time now that you didn’t have to travel so far out to school, or maybe he was just new to the area. You wanted to ask, but how could you just approach someone like him? He was cool and you were…Well, you. He’d probably walk past you like you were some nobody. But once you saw him stop to speak with two girls, you knew you most likely had a chance, but you couldn’t just interrupt their conversation to start your own. So, you waited. And waited. And waited, until so much time had passed you managed to check out three customers with enough groceries per person to feed five villages, but you couldn’t shake off how expressive his eyes were. He was miserable, obviously not in the mood to stand around and chat all day, and if you weren’t going to start a conversation, you could at least help him go back to shopping and getting back home instead of lingering in the virus hotspot you called work. You thought all would be well and done once you alerted your manager, but you didn’t expect the very man you were creeping on to approach you.

You were freaking out, trying to look busy in hopes he’d go away but the sound of his cart only grew louder, a pathetic whine leaving your mouth once you looked back up, putting on the bright smile you typically did as you greeted him, not wanting to seem even more ridiculous than you did.

“H-hello, sir, are you ready to check out?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Mark said, clearing his throat as he began unloading his cart, eyes trained on you although your head was low, gaze focused on the items slowly approaching you on the conveyor belt.

He couldn’t see your face but he knew you were cute, your voice evidence enough of that. You were working fast but just slow enough for him to notice small quirks about you. You mumbled under your breath about how ridiculously priced a bag of rice was, making some joke about how it was probably the cure to every disease since it was so expensive. You weren’t talking to him but he could tell you had a sarcastic nature to you, your jokes making him stifle chuckles to save you from being anymore nervous around him. He didn’t like the awkwardness though, the way you avoid his eyes to continue scanning the candy he threw onto the belt in an attempt to stay in your line for as long as possible without speaking not what he had planned when approaching you. He was naturally timid, but the way you were watching him proved you knew who he was, so he didn’t have to be himself. Right now, he just had to think of you as one of the fangirls you saved him from, and his idol persona could ease the situation immediately.

“I just wanted to thank you for your help. I don’t think I would’ve gotten out of here if you weren’t watching.”

Your eyes snapped up to see his face, a blush creeping onto your own as you tried to find some excuse as to why you were staring before, nothing coming to mind except maybe just being honest, but is telling him you only noticed his distress because he was so gorgeous the right way to go? No, you had to be cool about this, maybe it’ll keep you from turning into a tomato, especially with the way his eyes went from doughy and sweet to sharp and flirtatious.

“W-well, I figured you just wanted to hurry out of here, y’know? No one wants to be out during a pandemic, right?” You giggled and Mark could’ve sworn he was having a heart attack.

He swallowed thickly, eyes scanning your entire being as you finally bagged the final item, pressing total and reading it back to him, your eye smile all he could see. He figured you knew who he was once he took of his mask earlier, but it seemed like you were completely oblivious. He didn’t want another encounter like before but, knowing he could simply pay and leave at this point was comforting, so giving a quick thanks to a potential fan that saved him wasn’t too big of a deal.

“You probably don’t have idols come by a lot, do you?” He asked, watching to see your reaction, only to find your eyes glancing to the side and brows furrow in confusion, deep in thought before gasping out loud.

“Well, not idols, but Son Heung-Min stopped by once and took photos with some of us! He was a lot nicer than he looks!” You joked, Mark nodding in both understanding and confusion.

So you were more of a sports girl? You certainly didn’t look that way. Even from behind the register, he could tell he towered above you by a good 6 or 7 inches, your introverted personality made it hard to believe you’d work well in a team, and you seemed just a bit too young to care more about sports than idol groups. Not that it was anything rare, but almost every girl in your age group knew one or more kpop group, but you managed to name a soccer player that plays six months out of a year instead of a single idol that had promotions almost year round. You treated him as if he wasn’t famous, like any other customer. And he loved it. He didn’t feel the need to repay you by making your heart flutter at the mere presence of his celebrity status, but rather as a human would another human.

Before he could think of such a way to do so, he found himself in your debt once more, your hands filled with ten bags of various items he purchased, placing them neatly into his cart before sighing in relief, giving another smile to him.

“I’m guessing we won’t see you here for a while.” You joked, his lips unable to curve upward in amusement at the statement, knowing he really had no reason to return any time soon, but his curiosity made it impossible for him to accept that.

You were strange to him. Other idols treated him like a celebrity even when they were at the same height of fame, fans treated him like some god, but you? You were instructing him to use the pin pad to complete his transaction like you did any other person to walk through your line. Maybe you didn’t care that he was an idol, maybe you just didn’t know, but to think you were someone he didn’t have to fear when leaving his home, someone he didn’t have to hide from in case they wanted to invade his privacy and risk his health. Ironically, you were the breath of fresh air he couldn’t seem to get in the outside world.

“Yeah, I guess I won’t be seeing you for a while.” He commented, watching you bow politely before diverting your attention to an elderly man slowly unloading his basket, Mark’s body reluctantly heading to the exit as he tried not to stare at you any longer. It really would be a while before he saw you again.

But a while for Mark was only three days. He made the excuse that he forgot to buy kimchi to come back, scanning the store until he spotted you pushing a shopping cart filled with cans, scanning the shelves before grabbing a few to place them into empty slots. He was hoping he could talk to you personally at your register again, but he figured this would do for now.

You didn’t sense him as you hummed an unfamiliar tune, hands busy tidying the two rows of canned corn before moving on to the canned bread, a grimace on your face at the idea of bread in a tin can.

“That sounds gross.” You nearly screamed as Mark’s voice echoed behind you, your body turning to face him as you shrank under his gaze. It wasn’t scary, just very intense despite his eyes being so soft and inviting.

“Oh. How are you today, sir?” You asked, bowing politely as you smiled brightly at him, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he tried to keep his face from going bright red, silently praying this interaction goes the way he fantasized in his head the past few days.

“’sir’? I’m surprised my hero doesn’t remember me.” He wanted to hide at how stupid that sounded, suddenly rethinking his entire plan of even showing up here, but the way your eyes grew in size while scanning the floor around you, picking apart your memories to decipher what he meant and who he was, slightly put him at ease once more.

“I-I don’t kno-“

“It’s me.” Mark chuckled, pulling his mask down just enough to give you a warm smile before covering his face once more, a relieved giggle leaving you as you realized it was only him.

“You really had me worried. I didn’t think you’d be back so soon.” You admitted, turning back and continuing to placing the cans on the shelves behind you, not wanting to slow down on your work.

Mark was anxious, not wanting to lose your attention but not wanting to seem desperate. You were most likely going ask how was his day then move on without another thought, but he didn’t come all the way back here just to have a two minute conversation with you. But that’s really all he needed, just a bit of normalcy in the now upside down world.

“Yeah, I just needed some kimchi. Didn’t realize I was running low.” He chuckled, growing worried as you remained silent, only to see you jumping pathetically to place a can of mackerel onto a higher shelf, your free hand grasping the shelf below it to hoist yourself up, a gasp leaving you as you stumbled backwards, Mark placing his jar onto the floor and catching you by your waist to hold you steady.

Your eyes were wide, flickering up to him as he set you back onto the ground, grabbing the can from you and placing it into its spot.

“How about I help you? I don’t want you to get hurt.” He said, your cheeks burning as your body felt like it was shrinking in on itself, trying to escape the tingles his invisible handprints left on you, your head low as you nodded with a meek ‘thank you’.

You stood at his side as he placed cans onto higher shelves, you working on the lower ones to keep him from feeling like an unpaid worker. It was a bit too quiet for your liking, your eyes glancing at him every once in a while to take in his appearance, hoping you could find something to talk about. He was only wearing black joggers and a white t-shirt, his hair a honey brown shade, the only thing that stood out was the beauty hiding beneath his mask, but you couldn’t start a conversation like that! It’d be too weird! You had to stop overthinking, the answer right in front of you as you noticed the jar of kimchi waiting idly by as he focused on making each row straight.

“Are you sure one jar of kimchi’s gonna be enough for you? I usually finish an entire jar with one meal.” You said, partially lying considering you could finish half a jar before feeling full.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t really eat it all that often but I was craving it today.”

“Oh.”

More silence. You didn’t bother to speak again, feeling as if he didn’t want to talk to you anymore. Maybe it’s because you’re making him do your work, or you’re just boring, that last idea causing you to feel a little embarrassed seeing as he happily came to you with the intentions of talking, only for you to have nothing to say. You wanted to just crawl back to your tiny register and hide at that point.

“You must work a lot.” He commented, your eyes snapping up as his words, body jolting when you realize he had his eyes locked on you.

“I would’ve figured you’d have a few days off since I last saw you, just so you aren’t too overwhelmed.” He added, a dry laugh leaving you as you returned to your work, crouching down to straighten the bowls of instant ramen that were suddenly mixed up and unorganized.

“Well, I could took some days off but if I don’t work, this place would be in chaos with everyone trying to stock up before this virus gets worse. Plus, it keeps me from being bored at home every day.” You admitted, not thinking the conversation would take such an upsetting turn, your mood a bit down as you finally felt weeks’ worth of exhaustion hit you, your words flowing out precariously as he listened carefully.

“I’m honestly really socially awkward, but I value human connection, so I try to stay positive and pretend nothing’s changed but, it’s like I’m always having one-sided conversations with customers. No one has time to talk when they’re busy trying to stay healthy, so I can’t really blame them. But, I was really happy when you talked to me, I finally had an actual conversation again. Talking to you makes it feel like nothing’s changed.” You giggled, finally facing the man above you.

Mark’s eyes were hard with a strange mixture of sadness and understanding. He had his groupmates to talk to, his family and friends as well, but facetime conversations were nothing like being there and present. It was comforting knowing you felt somewhat normal when talking with him, the same way he felt just by seeing you, but it pained him knowing that he could show up any day and you wouldn’t be here, cooped up in your home with nothing but your thoughts, or him staying home while you assisted customers that only acknowledged you when they were ready to pay and leave. He didn’t know why you made him feel this way, not acting on pity but a protective instinct that seemed to gnaw at his very being with every second that passed. You were his new normal as he was yours, and he wanted you to know that.

“You know, I only really came here to see you.” He admitted, slowly lowering himself until he was crouching at your level, your eyes locked on one another’s as he tried find the right words.

“When I met you, I thought you were so weird, but it makes me want to see you even more. And I hope you’re fine with seeing me too.”

“S-seeing you?” Your voice was small, the way you swallowed as you anticipated his next words was visible as he gave you a final glance before fishing his phone from his back pocket, pressing the ‘Create New Contact’ option and handing it to you, your eyes going between the device and his hidden but noticeably kind face.

“Whenever you’re working, let me know so I can at least stop by to keep you company, even if it’s for a few minutes. And, on your days off, we can talk as much as you want, m-maybe go out to any place that’s open.” He didn’t want that last part to sound like a confession, it was way too soon for that, but he was silently praying you took it that way.

It took a second to comprehend the situation, a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside of you as you slowly took his phone, typing away at both letters and numbers before pressing ‘Done’ at the upper corner. Mark allowed you to slip the phone back into his hand, a smile on his lips at the random string of numbers followed by a name he couldn’t stop thinking about since he met you. He hurriedly sent you a text before placing his phone back into his pocket, holding his hands out once more for you to take as you both slowly stood.

“I should probably get back to work. The cool manager isn’t here today.” You joked, hand cupping his as a silent plea for him to stay, but you knew he couldn’t, that’s what his number was for, right?

“You can always reach me if you need someone to talk to. But, I don’t think I’ll be back for a few days.” He said with a sad tone, your head nodding understandingly although your disappointment was evident.

“Don’t overwork yourself, okay?” He released one of your hands to ruffle your hair, your body shrinking under his touch as you giggled unconsciously.

The air around you seemed thick as you watched him collect his jar of kimchi and head down the aisle and away from you. It felt like an empty promise the way he said he’d be there for you, but you knew you couldn’t keep him there forever. It wasn’t fair.

You sighed, returning to the now empty cart to take it back outside for customers to use, but not before checking your phone. It was always on silent because they weren’t allowed to use it during work, but you never knew what kind of emergency could arise during your shifts. You took a quick peak, expecting nothing important before seeing an unsaved number had texted you, your finger quickly opening it and, at that moment, you couldn’t be happier about the sly lie you were just told.

‘I’ll stop by before the store closes :) -Mark’

Ever since then, Mark kept his word. He was always in the store whenever you told him you’d be working, he would pick you up from work and go to any available restaurant to make sure you’ve eaten, and he always text or called you on your days off to either invite you to hang out or just pass the time in your own homes, separate but together. You were two weeks into the new arrangement and haven’t felt more alive, mainly because the nervousness you felt in the presence of someone so handsome turned into a full blown crush, every interaction sending you into a fit of blushes and giggles. You both were shy but grew to be playful and a lot more flirtatious, Mark’s confidence with every pick-up line causing your once bold behavior to fade into the bashful one he experienced upon your first meeting.

He thought you were cute, he said it all the time. You thought he was cute, you admitted it just a few nights ago once you gathered to courage to explain how you ended up “saving him”. He was smart, kind, always sharing funny stories about his old “roommates” that you couldn’t get enough of. He would sing songs softly as they played from the speakers in his car, his voice soft and angelic just like the smile he adorned, everything about him screaming perfection. You never wanted someone more than you wanted him and, tonight, as you finally settled into the passenger seat of his car after an eight hour shift, his free hand in yours as he steered out of the parking lot, you know he felt the same.

“You’re a lot touchier lately.” You joked, your free hand playing with his fingers as his eyes flickered between you and the road.

“What? You don’t like it?” His lips curled into a smirk, your heart stuttering in your chest.

“It’s not that. I just didn’t think you’d be into awkward cashiers.”

“And how do you know I’m into you?” Luckily there was a red light so that Mark could give you his undivided attention, a wave of contentment washing over him as you looked away, still flustered by his simple acts.

“I don’t know. I guess the same way I knew you were a k-pop idol.”

“So you knew?” He chuckled, giving a quick glance to the light that had yet changed.

“You were really obvious about it. You asked me about it when we first met, you sing like an angel, plus you kept saying ‘your friend BamBam’ and, knowing he’s already pretty famous just for being hilarious, it wasn’t hard to find a simple picture of you two with the rest of your group.” You said smugly, almost as if you decoded a million piece puzzle that no one else dared to touch.

“I’d honestly spend hours daydreaming you weren’t an idol, just because the thought of dating a regular person is easier. But you’ll always be an idol, and daydreaming about dating an idol is no different than actually dating one; you’d never have time together so it’d never really work.” It was such a strange confession, almost as if you were pushing him away but begging to be by his side. Your eyes were low, voice filled with sadness at the realization this was all unreal and all fairytales had to come to an end, but Mark didn’t think it had to.

He didn’t expect to be here with you, not this soon or this fast, but the last few weeks felt like months to him. You were his biggest weakness now, a constant fear that his desire to be with you would cause a slip up. Maybe a tabloid will discover your yet-to-be relationship and expose who you are, maybe some fans will catch on he lives in the area with how often he visits you at work. He was scared by how reckless he was being, yet he didn’t care. For every reckless act he was met with a bright eye smile, a warm hug only for you to scream ‘2 meters apart!’ and launch yourself away from him, and the sound of your giggles. You were the best risk he’s ever taken and he’d be damned if he’d give you up after jumping through so many hoops to get to this moment

You looked at your joined hands, his fingers weaving between yours until they were firmly intertwined, your eyes slowly ascending to his face that held no amusement or playfulness, just sincerity and a sternness that demanded you take in his every word.

“(Y/n/n), I could be a million miles away or right next to you every day and night, and I’d always have time for you. And if I don’t, I’d find a way. I promised you that.” You felt like you could faint with the way his eyes bore into yours, or that you could melt with the way his voice was so gentle yet firm, but you damn near died with the way his face slowly inched closer to yours, heart hammering against your ribcage as you silently applauded yourself for taking off your mask earlier so that nothing would slow him down.

Your eyes fluttered close, waiting for the impact of his lips on yours when a sudden honk brought you back to reality, Mark’s body withdrawing from yours reluctantly before facing forward once more, the green light causing him to immediately step on the gas, both of you hot faced but at ease. Mark might not have gotten his kiss, but he got the confirmation he needed that he wasn’t crazy for feeling the way he did, that it wasn’t a one-side attraction. The weight on his shoulders finally gone as he was free to enjoy the night with no awkwardness, no tension, just you. It truly felt like he could breathe freely again.

[imsofthelp]

Katsuki Bakugou x reader

Category: angst, fluff

Warnings: cursing

A.N This was originally supposed to be done much sooner, but i'm just lazy like that, so here u go. Huge thanks to @velvet-kissesss for editing this so fast!! 🥰🥰

*~~~~*~~~~~~*~~~~~*~~~~~*

You tried to look away from the mirror, from your reflection that reminded you of everything that was going to happen just a moment later.

You focused on the wallpaper - blue hues were painted into the shape of waves that looked as if they crashed here, forever trapped in one moment. You couldn't help but feel the same, trapped in a moment that you couldn't escape.

You took in the view of the creaky old floor with an expensive yet tattered pattern of golden flowers. Your eyes drank in the view of small rays of sunshine that seem to bounce from one place to another.

As much as you wanted to avoid it, your body seemed to betray you as you turned to fully face your reflection. You looked flawless. Although it was a true irony as it was the most miserable day of your life. A most miserable day yet, probably.

The strapless white dress was made from the softest of materials, it reached the floor and resembled dove wings while hugging your figure perfectly. A corset was adjusted to make your waist look impossibly thin but it only made your burning lungs even harder to fill with air.

Lifting your head up, you put two fingers on your tear ducts to try contain tears from spilling and ruining your too flawlessly done makeup.

You didn't want this. Any of this. You didn't ask to be born with a powerful quirk. You didn't ask to marry a man with quirk that was deemed 'compactable' with yours to make perfect, hero worthy babies when combined.

All you ever wanted was to finish U.A with the best grades and then become a hero. To save people, to help those in trouble and to always be an inspiration for heroes yet to be.

You blinked. Then blinked a few more times. Sorrow clouded your mind, making you relive your happiest memories on replay again and again, as if your mind wanted to torment you - to put 'that's what you're losing' right in your fucking face.

You reminisced about your first meeting with a certain blonde-haired boy. You recalled your first date, looked back on the first kiss and awkward first sex. Your searches for an affordable apartment for starting heroes like you two and your late night talks. Everything. Everything was bright and clear in your mind.

You hated them. You hated them for forcing you into this. You were powerful, hell, they wouldn't of been able to make you comply. That's what you thought at first but... when they threatened to hurt Katsuki, everything was done.

All the stubborness, all the mean things you had to say and an offer to shove that proposal up his ass was erased as if it never even crossed your mind.

You could marry a man you didn't love. You could learn to live with the constant dolor of letting go your dreams and your career that had just started. You were fine with leaving your old life behind as long as... as long as he was safe. You loved him so much it hurt sometimes. You loved him so much that you could give up everything for him.

It didn't matter. Not anymore at least. You couldn't change your mind right now. Not when there were only five minutes left until the ceremony started. Five minutes until you stepped out there all dolled up with a fake smile as his companion, waving and smiling to all these people that thought you truly loved the man you were marrying.

Your dress was like dove wings... Ironic how doves are meant to be free, free to go wherever they want. Yet here you were about to be trapped by a fancy ring on your finger and your own words 'I do'.

You counted the minutes. Your heart thumping harder with every tick of the clock, almost as if it was threatening to burst through your ribcage.

When there were only two minutes left and you were struggling to calm yourself, you heard a silent knock on the door.

At first, you thought the knock came from the front door of the room. It could’ve been someone already inviting you to go, but no. It was at the emergency escape door.

You couldn’t even get to the door, almost tripping on your shitty fancy dress on the way when the door burst open and hit the wall.

There he was as real as in your memories - blond hair messy refusing to stay in any other style, his signature skull shirt and black sweats on, stance intimidating, his whole body tense and ruby red eyes radiating nothing else but pure fury. Bakugou fucking Katsuki.

Seeing him made you question your eye sight or even more, sanity.

"Katsuki-" you managed to blurt out, feeling light-headed.

"We're leaving, get out of the stupid dress." he commanded, not explaining anything further, just tossing you a pair of sweats and a hoodie. Your sweats and hoodie.

"What-? Katsu, we can't just do that, I-"

He snickered, looking at the clock then looking back at you.

"You think I'm just going to let you give your life to some shitty extra with a powerful quirk, just because he and your parents want to?" he asked, arms that were in his pockets beginning to shake, his muscular arms tensed. "Over my dead fucking body, and I'm really hard to kill, princess." he managed to make something similar to a smile. "Now hurry, we don't want to cause a scene." With every word of his, you were more and more stunned.

"But... but they're going to hurt you if I don't do this! I would kill myself if anything happened to you because of me!" you said, clenching your clothes to your chest as you tried to keep your tears at bay.

"Deku will become the number 1 hero before they hurt me, babe."

You wanted to believe him. Oh god how you wanted to believe him.

Damn, what made you think he could be defeated at the first place? Who made you so sure that you could just give your life to someone you hated? Not for who they were, but for simply taking the right to make your own decision away from you.

Katsuki's look was quite unreadable. A mix of anger, re-assurance and confidence.

He raised his much bigger hand, taking your own into his to brush your hand lovingly with his thumb.

At that moment, you got all the confidence you wanted. He was your future. He was the one you loved the most and Bakugou was the one that made you braver. The one who made you say,

"Fuck it... Let's go."

His eyes lit up, a cocky smile finding its way to his face as if he knew that this would be your final choice from the start.

You turned, asking him to unzip the shitty, fancy dress but the feeling of his hand on your back almost made you break into sweat. This was wrong.

This was dangerous. You stripped out of the dress, the smooth, expensive material falling to the ground as if was a useless piece of fabric made for cleaning the floor. It felt satisfying as if you had nothing to worry about anymore. As if it was the only burden that kept you from running away from your own wedding.

You sighed, your mind running so wildly in your head almost making it hurt. You knew that this was gonna end up badly but here you were, letting him untie the ribbons of the corset and finally being able to take full breaths while watching him throw it to the other side of the small dressing room.

"These fucking assholes really just made you wear that fucking shit? It looks like it could crush your fucking ribs." he commented, frowning.

Your heart fluttered in your chest, a slight sigh of relief escaping your lips knowing that the corset didn’t make you any more attractive to Bakugou.

You slipped on your sweats before Bakugou made you turn to him, looking you up and down, making your face flush red since you were standing just in your sweats and lacy white bra.

"So you put this fancy shit bra on just for that asshole?" he asked, hues of hurt and jealousy painting his voice a different color than what you were used to. “Were you planning to have sex with him?” he asked, tone as casual as if he was asking what was for dinner tonight. Still, the way his teeth were subtlety clenched made what he was feeling clear.

"Ah, I-"

Warm arms circled around your body, pulling you close against his heaving chest as you could feel the slight tremble of his embrace but didn’t say anything about it, not wanting to make him feel worse than he already felt.

You closed your eyes, wanting to stay like that. Not bothering about the time.

Katsuki littered your jawline with unusually soft kisses, tracing shapes onto the small of your back in calming motions.

His lips trailed down your neck, soft and loving pecks turned into a passion that would definitely leave a mark. You tilted your head back, giving Katsuki better access as you softly caress his hair, tugging it caused him to groan.

When he was so close you could smell the lingering smell of caramel filling all your senses, making him feel so real.

Your breaths were sharp and short and suddenly he bit down, making you gasp but he swallowed all your protests by putting his lips on yours with teeth softly biting your bottom lip, demanding entrance.

You immediately parted your lips, letting his tongue explore your mouth to fill it with the lingering taste of sweet rum he must’ve drank earlier, making your head dizzy.

His hands explored your waist, one going up to caress your clothed breast.

You buried your fingers deeper in his surprisingly soft hair, tugging it, making the kiss even deeper as your tongues were fighting for dominance. Neither of the two wanted to give each other the satisfaction of winning.

The need to breathe was pushed to the back of your mind, afraid that if you let go, everything you had at this moment will shatter. A lingering feeling of irrational fear made you afraid to open your eyes.

Finally, you two parted with string of saliva that connected your lips still it broke. You could almost hear him murmur a quiet ‘i love you’ in his usual gruff voice.

The dream you so desperately held on, the one that felt so real it made your heart throb, was broken by a loud ‘you may now kiss the bride’ from the priest. You could only catch the heartbroken gaze and bittersweet smile of Katsuki as you were kissed by a man you hated and the crowd broke into cheers.

You had the first dance, thanked all the people for congratulating you and cut the cake as you tried to look at your new husband as lovingly as possible. It was partly because of the look you had to keep up, but partly because you thought that if you imagined hard enough, you could almost pretend it was your Katsuki.

Soon you got tired of all the people and told your husband that you needed to get some fresh air.

It was already dark as you closed the door to the hall where the ceremony was held, escaping from everyone with only quieted down music that was the wouldn’t let you forget you about what was still happening inside.

The fact that there were no people out here made you feel lonely as you crept through the garden that was buried in the silent tones of some shitty pop song.

In distance you saw the small light of a lighter flicker and then the most handsome face, recognizable to the point it hurt, lit by a light of a cigarette.

With a few short strides you reached Bakugou. His expression was unreadable, top of his top unbuttoned and tie already untied.

“I thought you wouldn’t come.” you finally said, breaking the unbearable silence that lingered between you.

Katsuki let a line of smoke leave his mouth, looking you straight in the eyes,

“Yeah, I was surprised myself.”

Your gaze was turned downwards, almost in shame. You couldn’t look back into his ruby red eyes without a scorching red pain burning through every nerve of your body.

You didn’t say anything as you wrapped your hands around him, feeling him stiffen in your embrace. It almost made you jump back, your thoughts racing. Maybe he didn’t want to hug you. Maybe he didn’t want to even see you. Maybe-

That’s when he wrapped his arms around you in a protective manner, the smell of caramel with a hint of cigarette smoke taking you away. The feeling made yourself tear up.

Bakugou took a step back as soon as he felt your tears wet his shirt. You quickly tried to wipe every trace of them away, but he took the cigarette out of his mouth, stomping the butt and softly wiping your tears away with his thumb, his expression softening.

“Hey, hey, you okay?” his voice was so unusually soft it made you tear up all over again. You couldn’t answer his question. You were afraid that as soon as you spoke he would disappear all over again.

He softly took your face into his hands, his thumbs stroking the tear stained skin carefully.

“Y/N, please answer me.”

“Before he kissed me... before he kissed me I imagined you... we were kissing and you- you were so real and then-” you managed to whimper out before sobs rocked your whole body. Bakugou took you into his embrace, his arms wrapping around your body, one stroking the small of your back comfortingly. “You dissappeared. You said you’d run away with me and then- then you disappeared.”

Katsuki littered your skin with small kisses, making you wonder if the experience was real this time. It couldn’t be fake this time too, right? Everything felt far too real now, you could even hear the rhythmic sound of his heart thumping as he held you close.

“I’m real and I’m not going anywhere.” he assured, kissing the tip of your icy cold nose as you wrapped your trembling hands around his neck. “You said we wanted to run away in the dream you had, right?”

You managed to nod with the hot breaths of your lover tickling the skin of your neck.

“Well what if I told you that we can make that come true?”

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Twenty-Eight

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: TW- Mention of past abuse. Smut.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

Your day with Harry was nice. You got in and out of Walmart as soon as you could so you could get back home to love on each other. You lost track of how many times you made each other come. You weren’t sure what came over him, or what came over you really. Maybe you both were trying to get five days’ worth of pleasure in before your period came.

Right on cue, you got your period Monday morning. You were fully prepared, so no waking up to a crime scene or embarrassment. Your body felt tired from your day of being worked over repeatedly. Harry knew you were getting close to being ready for him. The fact you let him rub his tip against you, even if it was just your clit, made him so happy. He knew you wanted him badly.

You wore your hair down and wavy, and made sure to wear a scarf with your outfit. There was one love bite you had to put some makeup over to cover up, it was just too high up to cover. You felt like the makeup just made it more obvious, but your hair would cover the rest. If anything, you could just tell anyone who asked it was from your curling iron. A lame excuse, but a viable one.

When you walk out of the bathroom, you see Harry sitting up on his laptop. He was starting to edit the photos he took of your family.

“Can I get a peak?” You ask walking to him. He smiles at you and shows you his screen. “Oh, Harry they’re going to love these. I can’t believe these were taken in their living room.”

“Thanks babe. I’m excited to get these over to them.” He looks at the time on his computer and sighs. “I need to shower before I leave for work.” He gets up and stretches. “How’s aunt flow, she show up yet?”

“Yes.” You groan. He gives your lower stomach a little pat, and gives you a kiss on the cheek. “Will I see you tonight?” He raises an eyebrow at you, as if you’ve offended him.

“Course.”

“Well, I didn’t know. We barely saw each other last week.”

“I’m caught up on a lot, won’t be as busy, love.”

“Alright. Well, we didn’t go grocery shopping yesterday.” You blush.

“Don’t know how we could’ve forgotten.” He says facetiously.

“I’d like to go to the gym after work, and then I can stop quickly to pick something up.”

“I can go grocery shoppin’.”

“You’d have time?”

“Sure. S’not a big deal, I know what we both like to eat.” He yawns.

You give him a little hug and a quick kiss in appreciation.

“Have a good day.” He says, patting your bum as you leave.

“You too!”

//

Around ten in the morning, Niall comes bursting into your office and closes the door behind him.

“They’re makin’ me the director!” You stand up and run into his arms. “And, and they’re makin’ you the associate director!” You both jump up and down giddy while hugging. He lets go of you and furrows his brows. “How dare you keep a secret like that from me.”

“They told me not to tell you! You have to apply for your position.”

“I know, but I’m sure to get it. And you! Congratulations!”

“Same to you! Can you believe they’re going to pay for grad school?”

“This is seriously the best place to work. I’m over the moon. We need to find a night to celebrate.”

“Yes yes yes! Hmm, I’m not really free this weekend, it’s my uncle’s Hanukkah party.”

“Is that Saturday?”

“Mhm.”

“How about Friday night? We could just do somethin’ simple.”

“Why don’t we have like a movie night or something? Been ages since we did something like that. We could have wine and junk food.”

“Ooo, I like that idea. How about Friday night then?”

“That should work, I can check with Harry.” You two hug again. You let go of him when you feel like you’re getting kicked in the stomach. “Shit.” You clutch at your stomach and walk over to your desk, and open the drawer where you keep ibuprofen.

“You’ve got to be kiddin’ me.” He rolls his eyes.

“What? A girl can’t pop pills in her own office anymore?” He laughs.

“No, you and Sarah are on the same cycle.”

“Still? That’s funny.”

“Great, so Harry and I will be with two women who have their periods at the same time on Friday, wonderful.”

“Oh stop, should be done by then.”

“How about you and I go out for lunch today, as a little pre-celebration?”

“Love the way you think.”

//

You enjoy a good session at the gym. You did mostly weights standing up, and got on the treadmill for a quick run. You didn’t love working out on your period, but it helped with the cramps. It was starting to get really cold out, but you hated putting all of your warm clothes on after sweating. As you sat down to wipe your neck and chest with a small towel, you noticed a couple people looking at you. You had completely forgotten that with your hair up, and a loose tank top on, all of your love bites were visible. You tried to ignore it, but an older woman sat down next to you to change her shoes.

“You really shouldn’t let someone do that to you.” She says.

“Pardon?”

“Your neck.” She points to one of the marks. “I’ve seen you around here, I’ve seen you with those before, but never quite so dark.”

“Oh…Um, it was just from-“

“Those are not from a curling iron.” She scoffs. “My teenage daughter says the same thing to me. That looks borderline abusive honey.” You stand up, feeling a pit of rage come over you. This woman picked the wrong day to fuck with you.

“Excuse me, but my boyfriend is not abusive.” She stands up.

“Listen, if you don’t feel safe to speak up-“

“I’ve been abused before, so I think I would know the difference between someone intentionally trying to hurt me, and someone simply biting me.” You gather up all your things. “And I’ll have you know, I enjoy it, so why don’t you mind your own damn business. Worry about whoever your daughter is fucking, okay?”

You storm out of the gym, leaving the woman stunned. How dare a stranger come up to you like that, even if she meant well. You drove home, and couldn’t wait to change into some loose sweats, and see Harry. You smiled at the thought of him being in your apartment when you got there.

When you keyed in you smelled something delicious coming from the kitchen. You saw him at your stove, making some pasta and veggies.

“Hey babe.” You smile.

“Evenin’.” He smiles back. “Dinner’s just about ready.”

“How much I owe you for the groceries?” You ask, taking out your wallet. He scoffs. “Harry.”

“It wasn’t expensive, don’t worry about it.” You go to stand behind him and stick your hand in his back pocket, taking his wallet out. “Oi! What do you think you’re doin’?”

“I am putting some money in here.” You take forty dollars out of your wallet, and open his up.

“You don’t have to, and it wasn’t that much.”

“Harry, you are not…” Your voice trails off when you open his wallet. The picture of you Harry from your weekend away was in there. It was the one of you two laughing. “You had this made into a wallet size?” You look at him with loving eyes. His face was beat red.

“Um…yeah.” He runs a hand through his hair. You hand his wallet back to him, and he shoves it into his pocket.

“Do you have more? I’d like one for mine too.”

“I could print one for you, yeah.” He coughs. “Dinner’s just about ready.”

“I’m just gonna go change.”

You peel off your sweaty clothes, and run over your body with a hot wash cloth quick. Then you throw on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Harry squints at your shirt when you come out.

“What?”

“Are you seriously wearing a Jonas Brothers concert shirt?” You look down at yourself. You didn’t really think about what you had put on.

“Well…yeah. I saw them this summer when they came around for their Happiness Begins tour. It was amazing, the girls and I went. I hadn’t seen them since 2010. They really put on a good show.” You shrug, and sit down at the table where your plate of food was waiting for you.

“You really have a variety of music taste, don’t you?” He chuckles, sitting down as well.

“I guess so. We mostly went for nostalgic purposes. I was living, it was so much fun to actually get drunk at a Jonas Brothers concert.” You take a bite of food. “Mm, so good Harry, thank you.”

“So which one is your favorite?”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone has a favorite brother, which one’s yours?” You point to Joe Jonas, who is in the middle of the shirt. “Which one’s he?”

“Joe.” You swoon.

“Why’s he your favorite?”

“He’s just a really good front man.” You shrug. “I also think he has a better voice than Nick, I mean, it’s like butter. I saw his group DNCE live a couple years ago, and they were so good. He sounds better by himself.” You laugh. “But I’m glad they’re back together. It like, gave me hope in a weird way.”

“Hope?”

“Yeah, when I heard they got back together it was one of the first time I felt overjoyed about something. And they all just looked so happy. It was a great way to start off 2019.”

“Sarah, Rachel, and Kate…you didn’t know of them from high school right?”

“Nope. Only met in college.”

“Do you have any friends from high school you still talk to?”

“A couple here and there. I have one childhood best friend that it’s easy to pick up with when we get together. I had a very small group of friends in high school. I sort of jumped around from different friend groups too. I didn’t really find my people until I went to college. What about you?”

“Yeah, I’ve got some mates back home I’m still close with. Try to face time once in a while. I suppose that Lou and Niall are my best mates though.”

“Maybe after we get back from our trip we could find some time to go see Louis and Eleanor.” He gives you a half smile. “I can keep her preoccupied while the two of you catch up.” You giggle.

“She’s really not that bad, I just don’t like competin’ with people for attention.” Niall was right, Harry is a bit clingy. “But yeah, we could plan somethin’ for after we get back.”

//

Tuesday after work, you had your appointment with Dr. Mara. You had a lot to tell her.

“That’s wonderful news about your job!”

“Thanks, I’m so excited. I think I’ve narrowed it down to two different schools. If I can get this figured out soon, I could enroll for the spring semester.”

“How do you think your stress load will be? Adding something on like that?”

“Well, I’d really only be able to take one or two classes a semester. One school has these great eight week courses. I’m going to speak with my supervisor this week to see what she thinks.”

“What did Harry say when you told him?”

“He was over the moon! He said he was really proud of me, he even took me out to celebrate. He’s very supportive of my career.”

“That’s great. How long have you two been together now?”

“Four months now.” You smile. “It’s been amazing. Not all of it has been perfect, but nothing ever is. There’s so much that’s good between us.”

“Speaking of that, anything new with him you’d like to tell me?”

“Um…I had a trigger recently, a week or so ago.”

“I see, what happened?”

“I was…um…well…” You were used to talking to her about all of these things, but it always took you a minute to find the words. “I was pleasuring him, and my hair was up in this ponytail, and he, well, he yanked me by that hair and he did it a little too hard. And…”

“You saw Jake…” She frowns.

“Not so much that I saw him, but I had flashes to his hands pulling my hair harshly. I ended up biting down on Harry.”

“Did you tell him what happened?”

“Yes, he was very understanding. I was shaken up, but I was fine afterwards.”

“Anything happen since then?”

“No…I feel like I’m getting closer with him. I let him rub his tip against me.” You look away. “Only on my...well...you know, so not all over me, but it didn’t scare me.”

“That’s very good. Did he ask you to do this, or did you initiate?”

“I initiated. I’ve found myself wanting him more and more, but I’m still terrified. I mean, I didn’t even know him pulling my hair was going to trigger me like that. What if we’re doing it, and he jerks the wrong way, or hits too hard by accident?”

“You can think of these what ifs and keep scaring yourself, or you could do what you’ve been doing and just let things happen as they happen. You’ve made a tremendous amount of progress. The truth is, you may not know what’s going to set you off, but I think as long as you two talk it through together, you should be fine.”

“I just feel like talking the whole time takes the heat out of it. Is this okay? How does that feel? Doing alright?” You mimic his accent. “I love that he checks in with me, but I also don’t want him to feel like he’s going to hurt me.”

“Just tell him you’ll let him know if you don’t like something.”

“I do! But he still checks in with me, he gets this worried look on his face every time I make a sound he hasn’t heard before. I feel terrible. I’d rather he be more cautious and careful than not, but…” You sigh. She nods in understanding. “I think I just get frustrated because I just wish I could go back to the way I was before. When I’m with Harry, I feel that way, and then these things happen. And I know he’s frustrated too…”

“How can you tell?” You take the scarf away from around your neck. She gasps. “Christ, he isn’t hurting you is he?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. They look a lot worse than they feel.” You give a small laugh. “But I can tell he does it harder when he’s…trying not to show how frustrated he is. I think it’s a way for him to release some tension.”

“And you just let him do this? In such visible areas?”

“Well, I talked with him about it and he said he’d try to be more careful…he did say something interesting though.”

“Interesting how?”

“When we were talking about it, he said if he didn’t do it here.” You point to your neck. “Then how were other people supposed to know I had a boyfriend…”

“How did it make you feel when he said something like that to you?” Your cheeks heat up.

“Um…well, I sort of liked it. You don’t think it’s possessive do you?”

“Does he talk to you like that often?”

“Not really, once in a while he’ll say something sort of flirty in that context.”

“Hm.” She pauses, clearly thinking over what she’s going to say to you. “Have you and Harry ever discussed what you like or don’t like during sex?”

“I’m not sure I know what you’re getting at…”

“Kinks, has Harry ever talked to you about his kinks in the bedroom?”

“Not really…I mean the biting is definitely one of them.”

“That, the hair pulling.”

“He more so likes it when I pull his hair.”

“I think this is something you two should discuss. It seems he may be into some things…that may be a little more aggressive, which is fine, but you’ll sort of want to be prepared.”

“It’s not like he’s into BDSM Dr. Mara.”

“He could be. How do you know? You haven’t discussed it. He could easily be holding a lot back because he wants to make sure you’re alright.”

//

You drove home wrapping your head around everything Dr. Mara said. She could easily be right, all of the signs point to Harry being a little kinky…although you weren’t sure how to bring something like that up. You two usually just discovered what the other liked while you were doing it. But if you were going to have sex with him soon, you needed to know ahead of time what he might do to you.

Harry was watching TV when you walked in. He was wrapped in a blanket, laying down. He sat up when you came in. You walk over and kiss him on the cheek.

“Hi love. There’s some leftovers in the fridge.”

“Thanks, I’m not super hungry right now.” You yawn. You usually didn’t feel hungry after therapy. “Maybe later, but thanks for making something.”

“How was your session?” He asks, adjusting himself to lay his head in your lap. You run your hands through his soft hair.

“Good.”

“That’s it?” He looks up at you.

“She was, um, concerned about my neck.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure really.” You didn’t like lying to him, but you didn’t really feel like having the conversation in that moment. “She just pointed it out, a couple people have actually.” Harry sits up to look at you.

“What people?”

“This random woman at the gym last night…she usually goes around the same time. She was like you shouldn’t let someone do that to you, and all this other shit.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He puts a hand on your thigh.

“I don’t know…because I don’t want you to stop doing it. I like it.” You groan. “Just wish they were better accepted in society. I mean, it really is just a way to show affection.” You look at him for a moment. “Does anyone ever say anything to you?”

“Not really…you don’t bite me as hard as I bite you. It’s already healed up.” He reaches his thumb up to run over one of the spots on your neck. “Guess I should take a break from this spot.”

“Why do you like to bite so hard?”

“Don’t know really, I don’t think I realize how hard I’m doin’ it.” He shrugs. You squint at him, not really believing that’s the whole truth.

“I think you do realize. I can tell, depending on how hot and heavy we’re going at it.” Harry was starting to sweat. “It’s okay if you have a reason, I’m not mad…curious mostly.”

“You really wanna know?”

“Please, enlighten me.”

“Turns me on when I see your skin turn that dark purple.” He says matter of factly.  

“Why?” You say blushing. He doesn’t answer at first. He runs a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know.”

“Harry.” You smile and put a hand on his knee.

“I really don’t! Just somethin’ I like doin’. Can’t really explain it.”

“Do you think it’s an, um, territory thing? You said the other day, like, how would everyone know I had a boyfriend.”

“I was just jokin’ when I said that. I’m not a possessive guy.”

“I don’t think possession and territory mean the same thing in this instance. Like, you’re marking your territory so everyone knows they can’t have me.”

“That doesn’t sound possessive to you?”

“No? It’s not like you’re controlling me. Like, I think if you were possessive, like, oh! Like, over the weekend, if you were possessive, you either would have told Rachel to leave, or you would have stayed to hang out with us, and wouldn’t have allowed me to see my friend.”

“So, you’re okay with me marking my territory?” You felt your pulse rising. Earlier, you weren’t sure how you felt about it. But now that you two were talking about it, it did sort of turn you on.

“Yes.” He leans forward to kiss you, but you press your hands against him. “But, we need to cool it with how visible these are for a couple weeks. We see my family Saturday, and then a week after that we head to England. I am not meeting your mother with a giant, purple hickey on my neck, I’m just not.”

“Okay, but you’re gonna have to let me do it somewhere else then.”

“As long as it’s somewhere discrete, that’s fine with me.”

Harry’s shit eating grin grew over his face. He scoops you up, and carries you to the bedroom. You giggle as he puts you down on the bed.

“Take your clothes off.” He stands and waits for you to undress. You suddenly remember your period.

“Babe, I have to leave my underwear on. In fact, let me just put some shorts on.” You throw on a pair of cotton shorts. “Aunt Flow’s here, remember?” He nods yes.

He walks around your half-naked body. “Hmmm.” You feel goosebumps raise all over you.

Harry wraps his arms around you from behind, holding you in place as he sucks on the top of your left shoulder. You shiver as his teeth slowly sink into you, sucking the skin into his mouth. He lets go of it, and you hear a pop come from his lips. He moves to the back of your right shoulder blade, and does the same exact thing, leaving a nice purple bruise behind. A loud groan escapes. One of his hands slides down to your stomach, and you feel his smile against you.

“Feels that good, huh?”

“You know it does.” You say blushing.

“So I can keep going then?”

“Yes.”

“Lay down on the bed.” He watches you get on the bed as he takes his shirt off. He smirks at you. “Ass up, please.” You blush and flip over.

He climbs on top of you, and leaves gentle kisses on your shoulders and neck. His kisses move down your back, and takes the skin on your lower back just above your ass cheek between his teeth. You gasp as he bites down hard and sucks on the skin.

“Doin’ okay?”

“Yes.”

His hands reach your hips, and flips you over. He gazes at your body, not sure where he should start first.

“What are you going to do to me, Harry?” You seemed so innocent in this moment, it was a massive turn on for him.

“Just gonna kiss ya all over, you okay with that?” He coos. You nod your head yes.

He kisses you on the lips, and runs his thumb over one of the marks that already exists on your neck. He kisses down to your chest. He takes the skin just above your best between your teeth and sucks hard. Your hands grasp at the sheets. You didn’t realize you loved the sensation quite so much. Maybe it was just because it was Harry doing it, and you knew he liked it.

He sucked on both of your nipples pretty hard, and worked his way down your stomach. He nipped at the skin just above your hips, paying equal attention to each one. He spreads your legs, and sinks his teeth into your inner left thigh. Your breath hitches when you hear the popping noise as he lets go.

Harry looks up at you, and scans over your body. He’s extremely happy with his work. You had nice purple splotches all over your body. His lips were swollen and a shade of raspberry.

“What do you think?” He asks. You lean up on your elbows and scan over yourself. “Your body was the perfect canvas for my art.” You giggle at his joke.

“Well…I have to say, looks pretty good on me.” You lick your lips. You wished you didn’t have your period, you wanted his mouth back on you so bad.

You give him a devious smile. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“What?”

[queen-erika-the-songful]

Okay, here are my initial thoughts on Princess Adventure. These are in no way organized; they’re just as I can remember them. Feel free to send asks if you want

- Barbie defending Chelsea’s creativity and imagination is great to see. It’s one of the best parts of Dreamhouse Adventures so it’s nice to see them continue that in this film

- I like “Try It On” a lot more now. It’s not my favorite, and I think it’s one of the weaker songs in comparison to the rest of the soundtrack, but it’s honestly kind of a bop.

- “It’s like they don’t even want me in this movie!” LOL even Tammy herself knows she’s been done an absolute injustice.

- Holy crap Amelia’s plan is so freaking funny to me. She could’ve just, like...invited Barbie over to her kingdom since she’s the princess and was already a fan of Barbie’s vlogs anyway. But nah, she’s gotta have this whole convoluted “cultural exchange” bullshit I just can’t

- Speaking of Amelia, it’s a little disappointing that we don’t spend nearly as much time with her as we do with Barbie, and, thus, we don’t get to see who the supposed “real” her really is. She says she finally got to explore things about herself, like her fears and dreams, but she never goes into details. Ironically, the audience never gets to see who the true Amelia is, we just have to go off what she said about “who [she] is does matter”. I mean, we certainly get glimpses of it (again, the convoluted plan - she’s obviously ‘act first think later’), but overall it’s not nearly enough, at least to me

- “(Not A) Picture Perfect Girl” might just be my favorite song from this movie. It honestly made me tear up a bit. We’ll see if that changes over my next rewatches

- The running gag with Trey mixing up Barbie and Amelia while Ted and Ned knew was a lot funnier than I expected it to be

- Trey is now trans and you can’t change my mind.

- I really appreciate “Somewhere New” a lot more now since seeing it in the movie. I love that the choreography starts on the plane. It was a cool choice that really felt like a “musical” thing to do. I also like that everyone got to sing at leaset a line or two on their own. 

- WTF happened between Floravia and Johanistan? Did they have a war or something? Why are they being united into just a bigger Floravia? It sounds pretty fishy. I can understand why Johan is so upset based on what little information is given to us, so I wish they had gone into it a bit more.

- Johan asked “Amelia” (Barbie in disguise) if she remembered what they said they would do as rulers when they were kids. That never comes back and it really bothered me. What was the promise? That they’d rule together? That they’d treat each other’s kingdom equally? I actually thought at the coronation that Amelia would give the answer to that question (something like “Johan, remember what we told each other...”) and then do something like absolve the treaty so that she and Johan would rule their own respective kingdoms. l

- IDK, I think I would’ve just liked it more if Johan had been like Amelia’s brother/cousin/whatever that wanted to become King. He’d be a more boring villain that way but it would be less complicated than this.

- WE GOT REPRISES OF 2 SONGS BUT THEY AREN’T ON THE SOUNDTRACK?! I will NOT stand for that. As soon as the movie comes out on DVD I’m ripping those tracks out and adding them to my playlist

- I really thought Ken and Barbie were finally going to get together. I shall now accept my clown shoes and wig. I’m already applying the makeup now.

- The sequence for “Life in Color” disappointed me a bit. It’s one of my favorite songs on the soundtrack, but the placement in the movie felt like it came out of nowhere. I was really hoping for a nice, tender moment between Barbie and Amelia. Even if they were kept separated, it could’ve started with them video-chatting again. Maybe they’d talk about their personal struggles and then Barbie would stop the recording (”We don’t have to film this...”) and they’d just have a moment between themselves to talk.

- On the other hand, “King of the Kingdom” was such a good scene. It was very entertaining and I laughed a lot (which I had to hold back a lot since I was still at work). Also, those boys can move!!

- To make up for all of the interruptions and missed opportunities, Ken Carson deserves at least 3 episodes centered on him and his life and 1 where he finally tells Barbie how he feels

- TAFFY HAD NO REASON TO BE IN THIS MOVIE. I don’t care that Barbie almost always needs an animal sidekick. Snowy (Amelia’s bunny) fills that role. Taffy just gave everyone a freaking heart attack. Also, how the heck did she survive the plane ride? California to Floravia is a 10-hour flight so how did she stay unnoticed for so long?? ROBERTS FAMILY, GET SOME DAMN LEASHES!

- Speaking of that scene, I hate it. It ate up valuable time that could’ve been later spent developing the plot or Amelia’s character. It was only like 2 minutes but in a movie that is already pretty short (1hr11min) every second counts

- Can DA please finally drop the whole “Hey look Renee is claustrophobic” already? It’s repetitive as all hell and honestly it rubs me the wrong way how often it’s played for laughs. It works in the DA Halloween episode since it’s all about everyone facing their fears but everywhere else it feels like a cheap & undeserved laugh (it only happens twice in the movie I think but I wanted to mention it anyway)

- Morningstar being a little bitch to Barbie was hilarious. I don’t really like animal toys anymore but I’d totally buy her. (She’s part of a doll-horse set called Prance & Shimmer Horse. The Barbie doll has Amelia’s princess dress).

- “This is My Moment” really warmed my heart. The last shot with Amelia and Barbie smiling at each other reminded me a lot of Princess & the Popstar actually. I also really like how they brought back stuff from “Try It On” for Barbie’s verse. Musical finale numbers that bring back earlier motifs is something I just cannot get enough of. 

- I liked Alfonso. Like Amelia said, he means well; he just didn’t put as much thought into what Ameila herself wants as he could have. But hey, he was learning just as much as they were

- I LOVED all of the stuff with Barbie trying to make it big and that bitch Rose Ross being all “This is what you have to do to make it sweetie :)” like that’s a great thing to show to kids. You can want to be famous and expand your content like Barbie wanted to, but you have to be smart about it, and you have to stay true to yourself. That plotline also mixed pretty well with Amelia’s life being formulated for the public too. I really did like all of that stuff about how media, social media especially, is constantly fabricated and edited to make things seem easier/better than they might be in real life. 

- THEY FINALLY WENT BACK TO INDIVIDUAL END MORALS THANK GOD. I got really tired of seeing “This is our story, what’s yours?” after every Barbie movie, especially when every movie that used it wasn’t going for that message. Hell, that’s not even a lesson or anything, that’s just a random end quote.

- “Life doesn’t happen on camera. Life is what happens when the cameras are off” THAT IS SO GOOD AND RELEVANT I CAN’T EVEN!!!

[begluketostay]

don’t wanna fall in love (c.h.)

summary: you don’t want to give him your heart but he already has it

author’s note: haven’t read the entire thing yet through and edited, so there may be some mistakes. just wanted to get this out there because i’m tired of staring at it :) also, ironically, i listened to the song wicked game by chris isaak on repeat while writing this but couldn’t name it that bc i named my last oneshot after wicked game by the weeknd oops

word count: 4038

You remember the night you met Cal.

He was all smiles and chubby cheeks and drunken happy dancing as you all celebrated the birthday of a friend.

You were used to meeting famous people - living in Los Angeles had made the glamour and shininess of celebrities wear off, and while you were starstruck your first couple years there, you were used to it now. Having friends in the music business gave you the in to meet so many people, and you often found they were just like everybody else, only they had a lot more money and the freedom to do whatever the fuck they wanted.

So having a half-drunken hookup with Calum wasn’t anything significant at the time. It was just like hooking up with anyone else.

Except that he actually called you like he said he would afterwards.

And then he started inviting you to more parties and kickbacks and hangouts.

And then you actually started getting kind of… attached.

It was foolish of you. While celebrities were like everyone else to you, they were different in one way: they were undateable. You’d sworn off ever getting into a relationship with a celebrity, especially any musicians, because you knew the paparazzi and the traveling and the pressure and the fans would be too much. It just wasn’t the lifestyle you wanted to commit yourself to forever.

That’s why you can’t stop feeling a twist in your stomach as Calum gets closer and closer to you, arms nearly touching as you’re all bunched up in the corner talking at another one of Ashton’s house parties. Luke says something dumb and everyone is laughing, but your head is somewhere else, fixating on the heat of Calum’s skin barely brushing yours and hoping that no one here can read minds or else you’re screwed.

Calum presses his elbow into your side, looking at you with his brows furrowed. “You good?” he mouths over the music, concern on his face. You’re normally pretty talkative, but you haven’t said a thing during this conversation.

You nod, taking a sip out of the beer in your hand and trying your hardest to focus on the discussion at hand as Luke and Sierra argue over who got the most drunk at Ashton’s last party.

“I’ll be right back,” you say before you sneak away to the kitchen, finishing off your beer and throwing it in the trash and opening the fridge to get a new one. You take a deep breath and try to collect yourself.

You know Calum is off limits to you, that it will only end in heartbreak for the both of you, and that you can’t let that happen. But it’s so hard to focus when he’s around you, and it’s almost like you’re starting to forget what would be so bad about getting your heart broken by him. You’d have the pleasure of having him for at least a little while.

A deep breath and another sip of beer has you feeling composed enough to go back and rejoin the circle of your friends, but they’ve dispersed now and you’re left trying to track down someone you know in the packed house.

A pair of arms wraps around you from behind, lifting you up in the air and swinging you around. Your squeals stop as soon as they put you down, and you already know that when you turn around you’re going to find a head of bleached blonde hair and full lips turned up in laughter.

“Cal!” you swat him, rolling your eyes. “You could’ve made me spill my beer,” you pout.

“Ah, but I didn’t,” he points out with a smirk on his face. “I’m talented at what I do.”

You smile unamused, shaking your head at him.

“You alright though? You looked a little out of it earlier,” he mentions.

“Yeah, just a bit tired. Long day at work,” you shrug, “but I didn’t wanna miss the party.”

He studies you, seeing the tired lines under your eyes and wishing that he could make them disappear. He knows how hard you work and how important your job is and thinks that it’s so badass that you do what you do. He thinks it’s badass that even though you have such a hard job, you can still outdrink the rest of them and light up the room when you walk in.

“Wouldn’t be a party without you,” he nods. “That’s why I noticed ya when we first met. You were the life of the party.”

You can see the truth in his eyes as he speaks and it makes you want to melt into him. He makes it so hard to resist him.

“Oh, shut up,” you groan, bumping your shoulder against his playfully.

After a while, people are starting to leave, slowly trickling out until it’s only those who are close friends left in the living room, sitting on the couches and so deep in conversation that they don’t even notice the room emptying out.

“I’m not ready to go home,” Calum sighs, looking around. “I get a little lonely after drinking so much wine. Not totally sure I should be going home and sitting in the dark,” he admits, eyes flickering to yours to try and gauge your reaction.

You kick the ground with the toe of your shoes, trying to decide if you should offer him to join you tonight, not sure if it would be a good idea. But when you look up and see those chocolate eyes, genuine hesitation and loneliness in them, you don’t care if it’s a bad idea anymore. You want to protect him from all things sad.

“You could come to mine for a bit?” you suggest, biting your lip. “We can watch a movie or something maybe,”  you shrug. His eyes light up with warmth at the offer. He nods.

“Alright.”

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

You pop open a bottle of red wine as you and Calum settle on the couch, pouring each of you a glass to sip on as he searches for something to put on the tv. His arms flex just slightly each time he clicks on the remote and you can’t peel your eyes off of him. You look up and realize he’s turned towards you, asking your opinion on a show, and you know he’s caught you staring by the way the end of his sentence just kind of fades out. His eyes are latched onto you now.

The air feels like it’s thickening around you and you can’t bring yourself to tear your eyes away from him. It was much easier when the two of you weren’t alone in the silence of your empty apartment.

“You’re something else tonight,” Calum bites his bottom lip and shakes his head. “God, you know exactly what you do to me.”

“What do I do to you?” you ask.

“Make it feel like all the air is sucked out of the room,” he admits. “Like I can’t breathe.”

You adjust yourself in your seat, looking down at the floor. You know where this is going to go, and you’re not sure you can handle it if it does.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he affirms. “Ever since I met you. God, you don’t even realize how you are,” he laughs. “You light up the room when you walk in. Can’t ever keep my eyes off you.”

He’s spent weeks thinking about your drunken hookup, wishing he had been softer and sweeter and savored your lips on his body. Wishing he’d gotten you out of the dress you’d been wearing and been able to see you and feel you all the way. There were so many things he’d have done differently now.

“You don’t care that I’m famous or that I have money or any of that shit. You still call my ass out and put me in my place and drive me crazy,” he chuckles. “I’ve been trying to make moves for weeks now and you keep pulling away from me and acting like we’re just friends, but I... I can’t be just friends with you.”

You bite your lip, not sure how to answer him. You know that what you want, more than anything in this moment, is him.

But it’s not that simple.

Your last heartbreak was so hard to get over. It took months and months of tears and distractions and drunken nights out at bars and fake smiles to get you to a point where you could even live your life normally again. And you already liked Calum more than it was healthy, way more than you’d ever liked any boy this early on.

You knew if you gave in, if you let him in, that he would have the total power to absolutely wreck you. He’d be able to crumple your heart in his fist and throw it away. It was terrifying.

And you knew how much he’d be on the road, especially having just released an album. As soon as he’d get back home, he’d have to be busy in the studio. Every time the two of you would go out, there would be pictures and camera flashes and crazy fans. You’d have to put your social media on private and remember how to calculate time zone differences and become best friends with facetime and heartache.

The soft, hesitant touch of Calum’s hands against your face bring you back to the present. The calluses on his palm are rough against your cheek and you fight off a shiver as your eyes go to his. There’s a softness in them, and you’ve never seen Calum look so… afraid.

“I really like you,” he murmurs. “I know it’s scary.”

You nod in agreement. It is scary.

He hasn’t dated anyone in a long time. It wasn’t because he hadn’t wanted to or he didn’t have the opportunity - there were plenty of decent girls that he’d crushed on over the years. But he didn’t want to put them through the pain of dating him. He knew that there were a lot of unfair things that came with a relationship with him. He felt guilty and ashamed asking someone to deal with all the baggage of loving someone always on the road.

You nod.

“I know it’s not fair of me to ask you for anything. I know I’ll be gone a lot and it’s not ideal. But I really like you.”

You sigh, closing your eyes as his fingers trace patterns on the skin behind your ears comfortingly. He’s so soft and safe and cozy, even when his shirt smells like beer and his heart is racing.

“I don’t wanna fall in love,” you whisper. Your eyes are still closed at your confession, and you feel so small and vulnerable. “I know you’ll be able to break my heart and I know I won’t recover if you do.”

He shifts and pulls you closer to him until your face is in his neck and your knees are curled up in his lap. No words are exchanged as the two of you sit in the quietness of your living room, breathing in each other’s air.

“I won’t break your heart,” he murmurs against the top of your head. His hand is moving up and down your back slowly, heating your entire body with every movement. “Wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I did.”

“No one ever means to break someone’s heart,” you say.

“I know,” he kisses the top of your head.

And then he kisses the top of your ear, and your cheek, and his hand lightly grips your chin and tilts you up to face him before he kisses you right on the lips.

He’s soft and sweet and the opposite of everything he was the last time he kissed you. There’s no rush now, and you’re both filled with red wine instead of vodka, soft and sleepy as your lips meet over and over again.

He pulls you into his lap, your legs wrapping around his waist as he lets his fingers trail up and tangle themselves in your hair. You let yourself relax into him, his tongue parting the seam of your lips and you open your mouth to him, letting him explore you. Instead of rough tongues battling for dominance like last time, it’s a timid exploration. He wants to memorize what every part of you feels like.

One of his hands lowers until it slides down into the back pocket of your jeans, cupping the curve of your backside and holding on tightly. You arch your back against him, and he moves his mouth from your lips to your neck, pulling you close until your chest is pressed flush against him and his teeth nip at your throat.

Ever so slowly, he plants kisses all the way down your throat, soft and light against your skin, until he reaches your collarbone, leaving little marks against you as he goes.

“Please,” he whispers against your skin, and you can feel every movement of his lips brush against your chest. “Tell me you want me.”

“Cal -” you start.

“No,” he whispers, cutting you off. “Don’t think about anything else. Think about right now. Do you want me?”

You grasp at the short hair on his head, pulling on it to raise his head to look at you. You nod, and that’s the only answer he needs. He reaches behind you and grabs the bottom of your top, pulling it over your head swiftly before he reattaches his mouth to your chest, suckling the skin exposed by the top of your bra as you hold him close. Warm fingers dig into the skin of your back, feeling around for the clasp of your bra and unhooking it. Slowly, gingerly, he slides the straps down your arms and drags the fabric off of you.

There’s a breeze across your chest and you feel even more exposed and vulnerable, but it feels right to open yourself up to him like this. He lips close around a nipple, tongue swirling it over and you throw your head back, mouth open as you hold back soft whimpers.

His hands are moving all over you, desperate to feel every inch of you before you change your mind. You reach down and yank his shirt off to you and press your bodies together to feel the warmth of the skin to skin contact, lips meeting once again as he reaches down to unbutton your jeans. Legs still wrapped around his waist, he stands and rushes to your bedroom, barely able to get the door open in his frenzy.

You’re laid down on the bed and he’s hovering over you, unzipping you and pulling the jeans carefully down, pressing soft kisses on the skin of your legs as it becomes exposed. Once the fabric is finally off, he makes his way back up, stopping to press his lips softly over the center of your underwear, just barely enough pressure for you to feel it, but it’s enough to send goosebumps across your body.

Lips meet again in a tangled frenzy, soft and slippery and yearning for each other, and you don’t even take the time to breathe between kisses anymore. It’s getting frantic and desperate and you’re not sure how much longer you can keep your hands off of him. Your nails scratch down his back as his mouth engulfs you and his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you as close as he can possibly get you.

“You want me?” he asks again, breathless and lust-filled. You nod again, but that’s not enough for him this time. “Say it,” he commands. “Say you want me.”

“I want you,” you breathe.

“How badly?” he continues.

Truthfully, you want him so badly it feels like you could burst. So you grab the back of his neck and try to pull him back to you, hips lifting upwards desperate for contact. He pulls away, unsatisfied.

“How badly?” he repeats, pushing your hips down against the mattress.

“So bad, Cal,” you sigh. “Please - just c’mere,” you practically beg, still trying to pull his face back to yours.

Content with that answer, he kisses you again, but his hand is snaking down and teasing you over your underwear with light, delicate touches. You moan out, and his pants get a little tighter just from hearing you.

His fingers dance over the skin of your inner thighs, leaving ghosts of traces where you want him most until you’re almost writhing beneath him.

“Please,” you whimper again, and it spurs him on enough to finally add some pressure, pushing down and rubbing on the little bundle of nerves right below the only fabric you’re wearing.

He yanks your underwear off impatiently now and lets his fingers explore the most secret part of you, feeling the wetness on your outer lips before spreading them and collecting more of the juice on his fingers. You’re moaning and he’s moaning and you’re both lost in the exploration of your body.

He reaches a hand up slowly and sucks on his fingers, tasting you for the first time. You watch as his lips pucker around his fingers and he takes them out, holding them up to your lips right after for you to do the same thing. It’s strangely arousing, tasting yourself and his mouth at the same time, and it feels so intimate.

When he pulls his fingers out of your mouth, he presses his forehead against yours and kisses the tip of your nose so lightly. “So pretty,” he murmurs, and the moment is so soft and tender and it feels like time has frozen and then suddenly his fingers are back against you and moving in fast circles until you’re left unable to breathe.

“Oh my god,” you gasp when he slowly plunges his fingers into you, moving around and stretching you out. He’s slow and steady, curling his fingers and testing different methods until you grab onto his arm, nails digging into the skin, and moan loudly, mouth thrown open and back arched, and he knows he’s found the right spot.

His arms are flexing deliciously, muscles and veins popping out, as he continually hits that spot inside you with his fingers, watching eagerly as you become more and more unhinged and desperate beneath him.

You’re still holding back, and he can tell. “C’mon,” he mumbles against you. “It’s okay, I’m right here. Let go,” he encourages you, and it’s what you need, because you’re becoming undone and gasping and groaning and writhing and he’s never seen anything more beautiful in his life than this.

“Good girl,” he kisses your forehead and you slump against the mattress, skin growing sticky with sweat.

“Cal,” you whisper, reaching for him until he brings his lips back to yours. You wrap your arms around him and feel his skin beneath the palms of your hands, craving his touch. His pants are still on, but you’re determined to change that as you reach to undo them, attempting to pull them off his hips, but he stands up and gets them off himself. Much faster that way.

He’s rock hard from the show you’ve put on and desperate to get inside you. He pushes away your hands and positions himself right above you, lining himself up.

“I wanna do it right this time,” he says seriously, looking you in the eyes and swallowing. “Wanna go slow. ‘S that okay?”

You close your eyes, so ridiculously turned on by the fact that he wants to go slowly and carefully with you, heart fluttering at the effect this boy has on you. You nod and moan as you feel him against you, coating himself in your juices before slowly pushing in. You feel every inch of him as he lets his hips move forward, both of your mouths hanging open as you take it in.

“Feel so fucking good,” he groans lowly, stopping once his entire length is inside you and breathing. You’ve never felt this full before. He pauses there for a moment to allow you to adjust to all the stretching before he starts to move, pulling his hips back before rolling them forward again.

He reaches for your hands and pins them above your head, fingers intertwined as he continues his movements, rocking in and out of you at a steady rhythm.

This is the opposite of the last time he had been inside you. Before it was frantic and drunk and sloppy, but this time it was calm, careful.

You feel so safe with him, engulfed in his body as he shows you how much he wants you in the best way he knows how. Your foreheads press together and your arms wrap around his back, pulling his chest up against yours as you both lose yourselves in each other, panting and crying out as you reach your highs.

He rolls off of you, pulling you to the side to curl up next to him, not wanting to break the contact between you even though you’re both covered in sweat. When you look at him, you agree that it does feel like all of the air is sucked out of the room, just like he said.

You know it’s too late to keep your heart out of it now. It’s already too late. You know that you’ll break your own heart if you try to stop what’s already started now, so you have no choice to give in.

“Don’t break me,” you whisper against him.

“Never,” he smiles softly, kissing the top of your head and closing his eyes, happy with you in his arms.

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

You smile at your phone as Calum’s face pops on the screen, your nightly FaceTime waiting.

It’s been hard with him on tour, especially with your relationship being so new, but it’s been okay so far. You miss him at night, having gotten used to him staying over each night for the few weeks before he left, and he misses waking up next to you in the morning instead of in a new hotel bed, cold and alone.

The FaceTimes were holding both of you over for now until he flew you out for one of the shows in the next few weeks.

“Hey,” Calum’s bright smile filled your screen, camera way too close to his face. “There’s my girl,” he smiles softly, proud to be able to call you that.

“Of course,” you respond, pushing the hair out of your face as you look into the camera and examine yourself. Your eyes look happier. You can tell. “What are you up to?”

He raises the camera and shows the room he’s sitting in, plopped on a couch by himself as the boys are messing around in the background. “Just got to the venue for tonight, we’re just setting some things up,” he says. You can see Luke and Michael play fighting behind Calum and laugh.

“Seems like you guys are having fun,” you chuckle as Michael falls to the ground overdramatically.

Calum nods as he looks over at his friend, but gets up off the couch and moves out of the room, walking to what looks like an empty concrete hallway. “Yeah, it’s fun,” he says, “but I miss ya. Wish you were here to make it more fun.”

“Just a couple more weeks,” you sigh.

“Thanks for putting up with me traveling and the phone calls at weird hours and the sporadic texts,” he mumbles, still feeling guilty.

“Hey,” you coo. “Don’t apologize. It’s worth it.”

You know in your heart that it is worth it, that he’s worth it and your relationship is worth it. You’ve fully accepted that he has your heart and all the power to break it, but you trust that he won’t.

And Calum knows as he looks at the sparkle in your eye and feels his heart pang in his chest that he won’t ever break your heart.

He knows that if he breaks your heart, his would break as well. So for now, you’d just have to trust each other and finally let yourselves fall in love.

[chrysalizzm]

i uh. realized people follow me now because of uh. you’re human tonight on ao3 asdjgfs

i have content!! behind the scenes content as promised. i do outlines for my fics as a general rule of thumb just because i personally can’t write things to a satisfying finish if i don’t Do That, and so - here are my chapter/plot outlines for you’re human tonight ^^ (i have no idea if this is interesting content or not i thought i’d put it out there because i think outlines are kinda fun hhhh)

chap 1 fundy

subtitle: an inkling

fundy makes an iron golem gone wrong, dream makes it go boom

chap 2 purpled

subtitle: uh oh social interaction

purpled shelters a fugitive, gets his house explosion-proofed as thanks

this is probably gonna be the only chapter with a funny title hh oh well

update: it’s not and i’m pleased with myself for branching out with my dry humor

chap 3 sapnap

subtitle: dust to dust

sapnap’s dying via wither effect, and he knows respawn’s around the corner but goddamn if it doesn’t hurt til then. dream skids in around the nether fortress corner, drops all his weapons cradles sapnap’s head in his hands, has always taken death much harder than anyone sapnap’s ever met. at the last few seconds, when death creeps up like a shroud, dream starts to hum to him hoarsely, pressing his forehead to sapnap’s, and in the final moments sapnap doesn’t hurt at all. the last thing he hears is dream whimpering. he visits dream’s bunker the next day, knocks on the door over and over, but there’s no sign of life there. sapnap shrugs, bites his lip out of guilt for forcing dream to sit there watching him die (if temporarily), and moves on.

the chapter that introduces dream’s primary ability of soothing hurts. put a lot of emphasis on the fact that sapnap ached up until the moment dream started humming, because for dream to do that is pretty frivolous considering once sapnap died he’d respawn and the hurt would just disappear but dream wanted sapnap to have a peaceful last few seconds. emphasize how abnormal it is that withering stops hurting. 

chap 4 ponk

subtitle: beaches dry of sugarcane

dream visits ponk after george burns down the first tree. when ponk arrives to the second tree to move in, he realized dream made the tree flourish, grow healthier and bigger. 

chap 5 sam

subtitle: fuck this shit i’m out (edit: the official subtitle is “oh god oh fuck”, i changed it last-minute)

dream picks sam’s brain for manhunt strategies while the latter is mining for redstone. sam stumbles upon a spawner and reels back, trips, nearly misses the moment dream sweeps him behind him and his eyes flash beneath the mask and when sam gets back up, dazed, there’s nothing but the splay of cobwebs all over the walls. 

chap 6 punz

subtitle: lines drawn

in an unrelated skirmish, punz drives his sword up to the hilt in dream’s chest, relying on respawn for dream to not feel any pain and for punz to get paid. dream doesn’t die. this is understandably alarming. 

can we get some funnies in chap? just a few laughs?? a lil funny for mr luke punz man?

can we get some panicky dry humor for real tho because punz strikes me as someone who copes with morbid humor and dream spluttering up blood is def a situation that punz would not know how to deal with

chap 7 wilbur

subtitle: so about that date

wilbur makes platonic moves on dream while dream fake texts his fiance under the table. wilbur also accidentally vents to dream about his little brother tommy and how afraid he is that tommy will get himself hurt for how reckless he is. dream siphons some of his anxiety from him, smiles as they depart from one another. wilbur notes that dream is shaking when they leave. 

chap 8 skeppy

subtitle: get wrecked noob

dream walks skeppy through some pvp. when skeppy demands a rematch w tommy and gets a lil stage fright kinda sorta thing, dream siphons his anxiety and his nerves and goes full soccer mom with bad and skeppy loses 5-2 but like!! he won!! against tommyinnit!! HH

is there any mental image nearly as powerful as dream wastaken, the soccer mom

chap 9 jack

subtitle: mandatory volunteering

after tommy goes on another one of his destructive rampages lmao, dream enlists jack, newest-comer, to help him rebuild stuff bc underclassmen have to do whatever upperclassmen tell them to do thems just the rules. after rebuilding a statue near the community house, dream pats it fondly, and when tommy sneaks back to set in on fire for shits and giggles, he finds that it’s fuckin fireproofed AGAIN

rebuild efforts, i promised monuments rebuilt so thats what theyre gonna fuckin Get

chap 10 antfrost

subtitle: twist the knife

ant on what ends up being an unpublicized manhunt: dream stops the manhunt because he’s triggered a raid and by the time the hunters get there, alarmed by the screaming and the fire and dream’s unresponsiveness, the villagers are all dead and there are raider corpses everywhere and dream is lying near the bell on his side, whimpering. (what the hunters don’t know - dream tried to fight off the raid but was overwhelmed and witnessed the village get slaughtered, he took the pain of the villagers that weren’t dead but were dying.)

segment: There’s a reason they do the manhunts, and it’s not just for them to horse around and try to kill one another for a few days. Antfrost is the newcomer but he’s always been good at reading people and from the outset he knew that Dream was someone filled to the brim with the restlessness that characterizes humans, that never-settling wanderlust, and his brain works too fast for the rest of his body sometimes, and he just needs an outlet. It’s part of why he eggs Tommy on in their little war games, why he holds onto those discs even though he doesn’t need them, why he gets that delighted look on his face when someone tells him that Tommy’s griefed them or stolen from them or otherwise ruined their morning. Antfrost thinks the only times he’s ever really seen Dream silent, Dream waiting, Dream unmoving, are when Dream is 

chap 11 karl

subtitle: head in the shallows

karl, sapnap, george, and dream have a sleepover after mcc 11. karl, nearest to dream, wakes up when dream starts tossing and turning from a nightmare. when he tries to shake dream awake, dream’s eyes fly open and he slams his fist into the wall behind him and the earth, the literal earth, the entire slab of it, shudders like an earthquake. sapnap and george sleep like the dead, so it’s just karl and dream staring at one another. finally karl asks, concerned, “do you want some tea or water or anything?”

chap 12 hbomb

subtitle: a maid’s burden

“i want to dress up as a maid for fundy,” says hbomb with false bravado. fundy’s fiance levels a very impassive look at him for an awkward minute or two and just when hbomb thinks he’s misread dream and fundy’s relationship dream says “i’ll get you a wig” and the entire chapter is just dream idly twisting the fabric of reality to get hbomb the items he needs to put the outfit together

pranks, i promised pranks, theyre gonna get pranks

chap 13 alyssa

subtitle: message in a bottle (edit: official subtitle is “ship in a bottle”)

alyssa’s leaving, at least temporarily. 

alyssa tells dream it’s getting dangerous on his server, doesn’t relish the expression that brings to his face, but he holds her hands and nods and bids her safe journey. when alyssa returns, running for something (later we’ll learn she had heard that dream was bad, that he might be dying), she finds that her house is completely inaccessible by everyone save her, placed in complete stasis by someone. 

start of the chapters leading up to festival arc. build unresolved tension in this one. 

chap 14 niki

subtitle: life doesn’t discriminate

wilbur and tommy are relentless, they waste no time; niki is willing to wait for it. 

the night before the duel, she goes to dream and holds a sword to his throat and demands he call it off, even though she knows it’ll mean little because of respawn, tells him she won’t stop hunting him down until he gives up l’manberg. dream smiles a little sadly and pats her hand and her fright, her rage, it simmers back down, and the anger that had swarmed her and made dream out to be the devil dies down until it’s just her friend, who was playing along with tommy til it got serious and he got cocky, who’s just as in over his head as she is, and maybe niki’s soft but she likes that about herself, that she’s always the first to forgive. niki is looking at the healing cut on dream’s neck, uncovered by any bandages, when dream shoots tommy, a clean shot that causes no suffering.

a long chapter, probably. i think at some point in this i want to mention niki’s respect for dream for apologizing during the first pet war, for not letting things get any bigger until fundy came back. some parallels can be drawn here - that dream let the fire die down in the initial stages of the pet war, that dream won’t let go of the l’manberg war now, and it occurs to niki that she doesn’t know dream nearly as well as she thinks she does if she expected him to act exactly the way he did during the pet war. she’s got what she’s wanted - dream’s remorse, proof of dream’s humanity - even though it’s not in the form niki wanted it. 

chap 15 eret

subtitle: crown of thorns

the king in name only consults with the true leader. 

they’re both upset about pogtopia’s exile, eret arguably more so because they think their early betrayal of l’manberg somehow butterfly-effected into the current dumpster fire, and as they talk eret works themself into a full panic attack reflecting on things that were, things that could’ve been - and the tide washes out all of a sudden, and eret’s left with the same looming hollowness they’d been feeling before, no dregs of the panic, they’ve never had a panic attack that left them feeling normal after - but dream is now wheezing like he’s about to die and eret immediately walks him through the panic attack, levelheaded even as they’re confused out of their mind. 

chap 16 quackity

subtitle: water to blood

quackity is a snake in the grass. 

quackity at schlatt’s side during the few weeks of his presidency. he knows schlatt from before, has been his friend, so he knows when his friend is acting off. the cynical, straight-faced humor is still there, his completely bland delivery and brazen showmanship, but it’s twisted to the left somehow, to make it so that those qualities that make up his friend have rotted, hurt people. quackity eventually goes to dream after schlatt first overdoses with a lot of questions, maybe even to confess that his allegiance has begun to shift because he can’t go to pogtopia and he can’t go to schlatt - and dream just gives him a long, sad look before lightly patting quackity’s shoulder and says “i can’t guarantee anything - just that you’ll be safe” and shooing him off and as quackity heads back to manberg he realises all the hostile mobs are avoiding him like the fucking plague. 

it’s big q!!!! fattest ass in the cabinet!!!!! pog!!!

fun fact this chapter’s subtitle was almost “chekhov’s gun” until november fucking 16th of 2020

chap 17 tommy

subtitle: most disputes die and no one shoots

tommy learns how a legacy dies.

a compendium of tommy watching the madness consume wilbur. it needs to be emphasized in this chapter that wilbur becomes an entirely different person when they’re ejected from manberg, that he becomes obsessed with the legacy he’s created and watching it crumble is what twists him; when dream gives tommy his crossbow, tommy, out of desperation and a need to have an older sibling again, asks what’s wrong with wilbur; dream’s face hardens and he asks tommy to take dream to wilbur. it’s a terse meeting, the only one they have before techno and before wilbur completely loses it and demands the tnt; wilbur says a lot of things tommy doesn’t understand (it’s complex mythological jargon hinting at dream’s status as a god but could be misconstrued to refer to dream’s status as simply the world owner) and at one point wilbur sneers, “are you trying to play god, dream?” and dream lurches forward and grabs wilbur by the wrist, and there’s a completely silent moment where tommy feels the air suck out of his lungs and there’s an off buzzing in his ears and he fancies he hears something that sounds, just a bit, like dream, whispering desperately wilbur wilbur wilbur it’s me it’s me listen listen listen then a shrieking, acrid wave of no and tommy reels back and when he looks up dream has staggered back, his hand to his mouth, blood dripping from somewhere beneath his mask, sounding like he’s gagging or maybe he’s sobbing, as wilbur shrieks in a voice that is entirely not his “get out get out if i can’t have l’manberg...” and tommy understands, finally, as dream sprints out. that’s not wilbur.

a distinction needs to be made perfectly clear in this chapter, as with schlatt’s chapter: it’s not them. they’ve been twisted out of control by something bigger than them, something that wants to toy with the young god running an oasis of peace for his people. it doesn’t need to be outright said in this fic; in another we can delve into the madness and who did it and why. for now, just make it clear it’s not explicitly anyone’s fault.

chap 18 techno

subtitle: colosseum

dream had to let techno in first, you know. 

techno and dream have interacted often - the duel, the championships, they’re friends more than acquaintances now. but techno was called in by someone wearing his brother’s face that he honestly doesn’t recognize from his voice and when he arrives at spawn, before tommy fetches him, he sees dream sitting cross legged waiting for him and they talk about the situation, dream giving techno a quick brief. when tommy comes, crying “techno, this way, this way to pogtopia”, and crossbow bolts are being fired at techno, dream gives him a lil wave goodbye (or what techno thinks is a lil wave goodbye but what actually turns out to be putting a swiftness effect on him).

“that’s not my brother, dream,” says techno, and dream’s mouth wobbles and he says, hoarse, “i know.”

techno Suspects, but only knows that dream has world-manipulating powers and thus standard minor god powers. he doesn’t let dream know he suspects. 

chap 19 bad

subtitle: run devil run

bad trusts dream, perhaps against his better judgement. 

dream comes to visit bad and skeppy on neutral grounds in the interim leading up to the festival that everyone on the server is side-eyeing and side-stepping. bad considers his friend and the owner of the world as he gives dream an impromptu tour through the escape route he and skeppy have dug out, wonders with a little reproach how dream could let things get to this point, then, soft, gentle as always, acknowledges that dream is only human kindly. when he says that, though, dream’s face crumples, as though those words hurt him more than any criticism bad’s given him in the time he’s known him, as though bad had driven a blade into his heart, and bad doesn’t understand but he lets dream run away from that. when a small flock of creepers explode over the tunnel the night before the festival and bad grumbles that he has to fix it, he learns dream left him with a fortified escape tunnel.

a/n: i’m sure the irony isn’t lost on you.

chap 20 tubbo

subtitle: cadmean victory

what say the sacrificial lamb?

tubbo is coming to terms with the fact that he might not make it out of office in one piece and it’s not his first time respawning but the older members of the server always, always did their best to shield the younger ones from death. he runs into dream by complete coincidence while he’s avoiding pogtopia (mostly wilbur) and manberg (mostly schlatt), caught between two strangers wearing his friends’ faces. he looks at dream, who looks back at him impassively, and tubbo starts to cry, because it finally hits him that even with his death and respawn nothing will be fixed, nothing can change, the poison’s run too deep into the veins of dream’s beautiful little world and now nothing can be right anymore and it feels like he’s shattering into tiny, aching shards - and then dream kneels before him, takes his hands, presses his forehead to them, sighs like his heart’s breaking, and tubbo feels a small calm thread back into him as dream stands abruptly, jittery. dream, with hands that shake, grips tubbo’s shoulder, hovers for a second, then his head jerks up and he bolts into the forest, clambering up a tree with admirable ease and disappearing away into the leaves as schlatt suddenly emerges from the bushes nearby with a joyous, plastic “hey! tubbo!”

chap 21 george

subtitle: lantern burns low

a moment in the night; george is visited by a specter. 

dream comes, pale, and asks george if there is anything wrong, is everything okay with you? takes george’s caught-off-guard face in his hands and says george george george, are you - and george catches a glimpse of dream’s powers (is he safe safe does he hurt no but fear but anxiety there are dregs hush now quiet now he is safe all quiet quiet quiet he’s safe) and he says, stricken even as the constant thrum of nervous energy he’d kept with him fades out, “dream what was that,” and dream presses his hands to his mask where his eyes are and says, despairingly, “they don’t get to have you too,” and staggers back out. 

george is the first person dream overtly “comes out” to. this is also why george doesn’t see dream til the festival. 

chap 22 schlatt

subtitle: the empty throne

dream visits schlatt in his office. 

schlatt, possessed by madness, has no idea what he’s saying but it feels right, it’s exactly right, everything is in his hands, and when dream approaches, his hands facing up, is he there is he there yes yes yes tainted polluted this is twisted this is madness madness madness dream reels back, shaking, and schlatt leans in and leers, not even knowing what he’s saying, “you can’t even fix it, young god,” and relishes the way all the color drains from dream’s face.

=)

chap 23 dream (edit: this monster ended up being split into three for pacing purposes and also if i left it together it was gonna be. h. 14K WORDS. also the drama of a cliffhanger at what most people thought was going to be the last chapter was too good to pass up don’t @ me

subtitle: do you feel like a young god?

running, running, running again

finale!! dream takes everyone’s old hurts into himself, takes the madness from schlatt and wilbur, promptly passes the hell out because no one should be doing that, wakes up, gets the shit hugged out of him, and explains a little, and gets told that he’s loved over and over. 

i uh! take questions! i like talking about this story, there’s a lot i still want to show, and even apart from that i just really love mcyt haha

[smooshjames]

forget you not (epilogue)

‘cause we’ve come, we’ve come so far, oh, baby (or: a second chance)

word count: 4k

a/n: i finally got my butt in gear and wrote the epilogue of forget you not! i still don’t think i’m 100% happy with how it came out, but if i edit / re-write it any more my head will explode. a reminder that i didn’t write any of the songs mentioned in this story (they all belong to little mix). and here are the links to this chapter’s songs: x, x, x. while we’re on the topic of links, here’s one to my ko-fi in case you want to buy me a coffee. no pressure if you can’t (or just don’t want to), i’m just glad you guys take the time to read my work. i hope you enjoy, and thank you for all the overwhelming support, it means the world to me <3

warnings: blink-and-you’ll-miss-it angst (i couldn’t help myself), i think that’s it ?? this is just a lot of fluff and the happy ending we deserve

previous parts: one, two, three, four, five

You called exactly one week later.

It was around six o’clock (nine o’clock for you, Shayne noted). He had just gotten home from work and was contemplating what to have for dinner when his phone started buzzing. He pulled it out of his pocket disinterestedly, figuring it was probably Damien or his mom. When he saw your name on his phone screen, however, his heart nearly stopped beating.

He took a deep breath and answered the call.

“Hey,” he said. He sounded mildly out of breath and hoped desperately that you wouldn’t notice. “What’s up?”

“I said I’d call,” you said. Your voice was shaky, your tone unsure. You were putting emphasis on all the wrong syllables. Shayne could picture you in his head; you on your couch in your nice New York apartment, dressed in something comfortable, a vision of natural beauty.

Shayne didn’t reply, just silently willed you to continue. He sat down on the couch.

“Um… it was fun. The sex, I mean.” There was a long pause. Shayne held his breath. “I would… next time one of us is in town, I think it would be good to hang out again. Maybe we can get to know each other again.” Another long pause. “Get to know each other like hanging out and talking, I mean, not like… not like wink-wink getting to know each other, not that I don’t want to have sex with you again, I just…” You stopped again, and he could practically see the grimace on your face. “Jesus, okay. I’m gonna stop talking now.”

Shayne grinned so wide he thought his face might get stuck that way.

“Okay,” he said. “I’d like that.”

Another pause, one which could have lasted three seconds or three years.

“I’m really glad we got to see each other again,” he said. He was careful to keep his tone light, decidedly avoiding any words that might send the I still love you vibe. He didn’t want to push the boat out on another chance with you too soon, but absence absolutely makes the heart grow fonder. There was a part of him that already had the color scheme for your wedding planned, a part of him that felt sure you’d give him a second chance. After all, you’d spent the night together, and now you were calling him back. That had to mean something, right?

But he knew, rationally, that you were still smarting from what had happened all those years ago, and he knew that you had every right to be. He figured you would want to take things slow.

And then, before his brain could really think about it, his mouth said: “I want… I really want to try again, if you… if you want to. I think we could do things right this time.”

So much for taking things slow.

There was another long silence. Shayne was almost certain his heart was going to pound out of his chest.

“I want to try again, too,” you said. Shayne felt his shoulder sag in relief. “I’ve missed you a lot. But, um, it’s late here and I worked all day. I should get ready for bed. I’ll have Michelle look at my schedule tomorrow and we can figure out a good time for me to fly back out there, okay?”

“Okay,” he said. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Shayne.”

The line went dead. Shayne sat back on his couch and stared up at his ceiling in wonder. A second chance. He couldn’t fucking believe it.

All he had to do now was get it right this time.

***

A month passed, and then two, and then six. You and Shayne flew from New York to LA and back more times than you could count. You squeezed texting, calling, and facetiming into every spare second. Shayne made himself endlessly available to you, and you did the same for him. You were constantly in trouble with Michelle for getting distracted during interviews and meetings and recording sessions. Rumors circulated that there was a man in your life, which, for a while, you didn’t confirm or deny.

You knew that you’d have to go public eventually, something you discussed with Shayne early on in your second attempt. You were both far more in the public eye now than you’d been five years ago, which meant people would put pieces together sooner than you wanted them to. Finally, after two months, the two of you decided it was time to call it official. Instagram posts went up, fans lost their minds, the comments of your Smosh video were dominated almost exclusively with references to you and Shayne.

At the four-month mark, you discussed moving out to LA permanently. You’d still be spending a lot of time apart while the band toured, but you would at least be able to go home to him full-time in between the months on the road.

Carly asked if it felt a little soon, and you told her it didn’t. If your first attempt at a relationship with Shayne had been more-or-less a strong one (save for the end), this attempt was iron-clad. Shayne had matured more than you ever could’ve hoped for. The years apart made him wiser, more willing to confront his feelings and his issues. And in your five years of being single, you had found something infinitely more valuable than a shiny new relationship: self-worth. You knew what you deserved, and a happy, loving relationship was one of those things. You no longer lived in fear of Shayne running off at the first sign of someone better than you. You were far more willing to fight for yourself and for your relationship. 

You spent a couple of months deliberating whether you’d move to LA. The time it took you to think was in part caused by some hesitation, but more than anything caused by the fact that the band was recording a new album. You couldn’t think about much of anything besides choruses and hooks and beats.

Your hang-ups about the move were more practical than anything; it wasn’t that you didn’t want to move, it was that cross-country moves were infamously stressful and problem-filled. Not to mention, the rest of the band still lived in New York, which might cause professional complications (and would most certainly cause personal heartache; you weren’t necessarily ecstatic about living almost 3,000 miles from your best friends).

You finally made the decision during a late-night, insomnia-induced facetime call. You called Shayne at four in the morning one night after tossing and turning for hours. He picked up on the third ring, and you could tell immediately that he had been asleep; his surroundings were completely blacked out, his face only visible from the light of his phone screen. He was squinting at the screen, face scrunched up in a way that made your heart swell with the urge to kiss him, as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. And when he spoke, his voice was gruff with disuse.

“Hey,” he said. He didn’t seem the slightest bit upset at being woken up, but there was definite concern on his face. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied, “I’m sorry to wake you. I can’t sleep. I wanted to see you.”

If you lived in LA, whispered the ever-present voice in the back of your mind, you wouldn’t have to call him to see him. If you lived in LA, you’d be fast asleep in his arms right now.

Shayne hummed sympathetically and you heard the blankets rustling as he rolled over on his back. The angle was about as unflattering as it could have possibly been, but you didn’t care. In fact, you loved him all the more for it.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said. His words were just slightly slurred, like his tongue was still heavy from sleep. “What’s keeping you awake?”

You sighed and scrubbed a hand over your eyes. “I don’t really know,” you replied. “A lot of things, I guess. It’s been a couple of weeks since we saw each other last, so I’ve been trying to find a good time to fly out there, but I’m completely booked for the next few months. The new album has been kicking our asses and we’re nowhere near where we need to be if we’re gonna make the deadline, so we’ve been working all hours, which means everyone’s sleep schedules are completely fucked. I’m pretty sure Alexis and Piper are still at the studio right now.”

He hummed low in his throat again, nodding slowly. There was a moment where he seemed to be debating which part of your speech to address first. “Well, don’t worry too much about flying out. You know I love seeing you in person, but I don’t want making time for me to be too stressful for you. I’m perfectly content with long-distance if that’s what you need to do.”

You smiled despite yourself. Shayne had established this rule early-on; you never needed to worry about going to see him if going to see him would jeopardize your work or your personal wellbeing. If you couldn’t handle the stress of a flight across the country, he would either come to you or you’d just make texting and calling work until one of you could get on a plane.

But in this instance (and in every other instance), you didn’t want to see him in person just so that he would be satisfied. You wanted to see him in person because seeing him in person was infinitely better than seeing him through the phone. You wanted to be there when he got home from work, to kiss him goodnight and good morning, to fall asleep next to him.

“I’m gonna move out there,” you said, surprising even yourself with the conviction in your tone.

“What?” he asked. The camera shook for a moment and you imagined he was sitting up in bed. “Seriously?”

You nodded. “Seriously. I’ll talk to everyone tomorrow and then I’ll call you and we can figure out the logistics. I need to be with you, Shayne. I think now’s as good a time as there’ll ever be.”

***

It took a month of you living together for Shayne to track down the old ring. He’d kept it all these years, though he could never quite put a finger on why. At least, until now.

As he rifled through his closet searching for the little blue box, he knew exactly why he’d kept it. For five years, he’d hoped against hope that you would come back to him. He’d hoped that despite it all, you could still be soulmates, just like he’d known you were before he went and fucked it up.

He found the box. It was a little dusty, but the ring inside was preserved perfectly. He moved it from the bottom of his closet to the back corner of his sock drawer, which felt like a more appropriate hiding place for a ring that was no longer going unused (hopefully).

You were currently back in New York to finish recording the new album, and then you would begin tour rehearsals in LA. The reasons for that were threefold; first, there was a choreographer based in LA that you desperately wanted to work with; second, the tour would kick off in LA, so it made sense to do the rehearsals in the place you would start; and third, you had convinced the rest of the band to do it in LA so that you could be close to Shayne. They, being your best friends and considering the other two reasons, had agreed happily. The proximity was good for Shayne, not only because it meant he got to spend time with you, but because it meant he could consult Carly. He figured that if anyone would know if you were ready to marry him, it would be her.

A week or so into tour rehearsals, the two of you hosted a dinner party at your apartment. You invited the Smosh Squad, the band, and a few other mutual friends. It was a challenge fitting everyone into the small space, but you made it work.

Shayne managed to find Carly after dinner was over and everyone had broken up to mingle. You were occupied with Olivia, Courtney, and Piper, and Carly was only talking to Damien, so Shayne figured it was his golden opportunity.

He sidled up to Carly and Damien and shot Damien a Hey man, you know what I’m about to do look (Damien was well aware of his plans, of course; Shayne had texted him the very second marriage popped into his head). Damien nodded.

“Hey, Carly,” Shayne said. She gave him a barely-civil look and took a sip of her drink. She still didn’t entirely trust him, which Shayne couldn’t blame her for; the way he understood it, she had been the one to pick up the pieces of the mess he made. He knew she was only playing nice with him for your sake. “Can I talk to you in private?”

“Sure,” she replied. She narrowed her eyes at him, obviously suspicious, even as she gestured for him to begin walking. “Lead the way.”

Shayne beckoned her into the bedroom, which was the only place not occupied by dinner guests, and rifled around in his sock drawer until he found the ring. He turned and presented it to Carly.

She choked on her drink.

“You’re going to propose?” she asked, volume just lower than a shout, obviously incredulous. Shayne shushed her frantically and glanced over to the open archway into the living room, thoroughly regretting not closing the door and praying to God that no one had heard. “Sorry, I just… Jesus, okay.” And then, in a much more reasonable tone of voice: “You’re going to propose?”

“I’m thinking about proposing,” Shayne corrected her. He set the ring back in his sock drawer. “I haven’t made my mind up yet. I don’t want to ask and freak her out. I figured you might know her thoughts on it.”

Carly narrowed her eyes at him, appraising. Shayne got the disturbing feeling that she could see straight into his soul; it was like she was looking through him, not at him. He shifted uncomfortably.

“Y/N is my best friend,” Carly said after a few seconds. Shayne nodded his understanding but didn’t dare speak. “After you destroyed her -- and you did destroy her, and it was your fault, even as much as she’s tried time and time again to convince me otherwise -- I was there for her. I have seen her at her lowest, most desperate points, and I have seen her at her most joyful. She is my best friend. She is my sister.

“All this to say, Shayne, that if you hurt her again, I can and will -- in fact, I am obligated to -- make your death look like an accident.”

Shayne nodded again, struck speechless. He was reminded of a conversation he’d had with you some time ago: he’d mentioned that he thought Carly didn’t like him, and you had conceded that she didn’t. But, you’d said, don’t worry too much. She’s all bark and no bite, and she just cares. She’ll come around to you.

As she stood in front of him now, fire in her eyes, tension in her shoulders, chin held high, Shayne was absolutely convinced that this woman was 100% bite. She quirked an eyebrow, waiting for him to speak. He was somehow more intimidated by Carly than he had been by your family.

“I love her, too,” he said. “That’s one thing we have in common. I know that I hurt her, and not a day goes by that I don’t regret it. I should’ve done things so much differently five years ago, I know that, and I’m sorry I didn’t. But by some miracle, she’s given me a second chance, and I’m not gonna fuck it up this time. I want to marry her with everything I have, Carly. I need to know that she’ll say yes.”

There was another silent moment as Carly appraised him. She glanced over at the sock drawer, where the ring was safely tucked away, and then back to him. “Okay,” she said. Shayne’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Here’s what we’re gonna do.”

***

You rehearsed for two months before the first concert of the new tour. In the week leading up to it, you were riddled with nerves; you were exhausted from long rehearsals and yet you couldn’t sleep, you had to force yourself to eat, you had dreams of getting on stage and forgetting all your choreography, or, worse, the lyrics to your own songs.

Shayne did his best to help you. He stayed up with you when you were having insomnia, even if his work suffered for it the following day, and he brought you food sometimes when rehearsals ran past your allotted lunch or dinner break. He was a godsend.

Finally, the big day arrived; it was the opening night of your tour. The new album had been out for a couple of weeks and it was doing well so far. The concert hall was slightly bigger than the one you’d performed at last time you were in LA. But sitting in your dressing room with shaking hands, about to attend the pre-show meet and greet, the nervous churning in your gut felt eerily similar to the way it felt eight months prior.

And, like eight months prior, Carly came to collect you. You walked with her down the hallway and to the meet and greet room, which had an almost identical setup; white backdrop and four stools on one side, camera equipment and a friendly man named Rob on the other.

You and the rest of the band gave Michelle the all-clear to let guests in, and the meet and greet began.

It was around the halfway mark when the door opened and you heard familiar voices walking in. Your face split into a wide grin as Noah, Keith, Olivia, Courtney, Damien, Ian, and Shayne rounded the backdrop. All of you had grown pretty close over the last few months, between you living with Shayne and occasionally visiting him at work. You had actually been in talks with Ian to appear on a SmoshCast once the tour was over.

Hugs were exchanged between the band and all your friends. You greeted Shayne with a kiss on the cheek, and Courtney with the complicated secret handshake you two had been working on.

The entire massive group took a photo together, and then your adoring fans left to find their seats. Your heart felt lighter for having seen them, and knowing that they would be in the audience worked wonders to calm your nerves. It was the exact opposite effect of your last meet and greet experience with Shayne.

The meet and greet ended, mic check passed, and the beginning of the concert approached. You took a deep breath. You did your pre-show ritual. You got into places. The concert began.

The first half of the show went off without a hitch. The fans were obviously loving it, and you (miraculously) remembered everything you were supposed to do. You were constantly glancing back at Shayne and your friends, both for comfort and to make sure they were enjoying themselves. Occasionally, you’d make eye contact with one of them and they’d flash you enthusiastic thumbs-ups. Every time you looked at Shayne, without fail, he was looking back at you, which made your heart beat just that much faster.

As you were introducing Your Love, though, you glanced over and saw that Shayne was no longer sitting with the group. You frowned but figured he had gone to the bathroom. Damien flashed you a grin and a thumbs-up from his seat next to Shayne’s.

The song began and you didn’t have time to think about anything else as you started to sing: “Luxurious lovin’ like Egyptian cotton, if I ain’t got nothing, least I got you.”

This particular song hadn’t been written with Shayne in mind, but it was hard to think of anything else as you sang the lovey-dovey lyrics. Every time you glanced over at his seat, though, he was still gone. It wasn’t that big of a deal, you knew, but you were somewhat saddened by the fact that you couldn’t serenade him (or at least make eye contact with him) while you sang.

Alexis had the second verse. You were swaying to the beat and moving across the stage to your mark when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You almost ignored it and kept moving; you were in show mode, so you chalked it up at first to a backup dancer brushing against you or something of the sort. But then you took in your surroundings and stopped in your tracks.

Alexis was still singing, but she and the rest of the band had turned their eyes to you. In fact, everyone on stage was looking at you. The audience was screaming, and you thought you heard your name a few times, but it was impossible to make anything out, and a screaming audience at a concert wasn’t exactly unusual. Your heart still plummeted, though, and you wondered if you’d done something wrong. You made eye contact with Piper, standing off to your right, and she nodded encouragingly and motioned toward you as if to say turn around.

You did, and what you saw almost made you drop your mic. Your jaw practically hit the floor.

There, on one knee in front of you, was Shayne. He was holding a little blue box, and inside the box was the most beautiful ring you’d ever seen. He was smiling up at you, hope and adoration in his eyes. As your band-mates launched into the second chorus of the song, you nodded enthusiastically and allowed Shayne to put the ring on your finger. The audience was going insane. He pulled you into a tight hug.

“I promise I’m gonna get it right this time. I love you so much,” he said. You nodded against him. When he pulled back, he laughed softly and reached up to wipe his thumb over your cheek; you realized with a start that you were crying. “Happy tears?” he asked, just loudly enough that you could make it out over the noise.

You nodded and leaned in to kiss him. You weren’t normally big on PDA, and you were pretty sure kissing in front of a concert hall full of people definitely counted as PDA, but you figured you could make an exception just this once. When you pulled away and brought the mic back up to your mouth to sing, you kept one arm around his shoulders and hardly took your eyes off him. You could feel yourself missing your choreography, but you didn’t care. Your world had narrowed to just the two of you. Shayne, the love of your life, your fiancé, standing next to you with the biggest smile you’d ever seen, looking at you like you were his everything.

You finished the song and kissed Shayne again before he had to get offstage. He leaned in to whisper in your ear, “I’ll see you after the show. Knock ‘em dead, beautiful.”

And then he went backstage. A minute later, you saw him return to his seat in the audience, where he was almost immediately engulfed in a patented Damien Bear Hug. You smiled at your friends and then turned back to the audience. They had only marginally quieted down since the end of the song. You brought the mic to your mouth. “I’m engaged, ya’ll!”

A fresh round of cheering erupted and your band-mates rushed over to wrap you in a group hug. You felt another few tears spill over and wiped them away. You’d only felt joy like this a handful of times, and it more than made up for all the sadness Shayne had caused you.

You knew, as you launched into Nothing Else Matters, that this was the beginning of a long, happy future. Your life with Shayne would, of course, have its ups and downs, but after everything, you knew this for sure: with him by your side, you could weather any storm that came your way. And he was more than worth it.

[peeterparkr]

limits of desire⤳t.h.

chapter one: set the date.

MADE OF HONOR|AU

So, after that photoshoot, I decided to get back on my shit. I’m re-uploading it, editing it and changing a few things. Yes, I’ve posted this fic before but I feel like I’ve grown as a writer and it’s a fic with so much more potential. 

summary: Tom has a new life and he bumps into y/n who definitely isn’t into him. 

pairing: fuckboy!tom holland x reader

warnings: alcohol mention, swearing

word count: 4k

btw I’m afraid I’ll disappoint so tell me what you think

teaser

next chapter

series masterlist

October 2016.

October is the best time of the year for some people, particularly for students who’re on the verge of trying not to collapse. Cold weather, but not too cold, orange leaves on the floor accentuating the aesthetic we’re all thriving to have, outfits that include the best fashion possible, the basic but seasonal favourite pumpkin lattes, excuses to drink tea just by the window, watching horror movies and blaming them for not being able to sleep.

Halloween was just around the corner, two days away to be exact.  Sadly, exams were also around the corner. However, that particular combination gave the perfect excuse to the students of every university in London to get drunk to forget all their troubles while being dressed as completely different strangers, meaning it gave them the amazing opportunity to throw parties all around just to hook up with equally drunk beings. 

And it gave Tom the perfect excuse to play his favourite new game, too. Tom Holland, of course, was not going to waste the opportunity on dressing up as his new favourite women-magnet, his Spider-Man costume and his oh-so-charming smile. Him and Harrison were enjoying themselves at one of the parties that were thrown around town, the third party of the week, to be more exact. Thanks, Andrew Jacobs who had been kind enough to invite them. The parties from university students had been the best for Tom, whose popularity had increased after appearing on Civil War, and of course, after being cast as Spider-Man. He’d use that popularity to his advantage, and of course, he had been really busy each night. A new girl each night. 

He wasn’t always like that but the moment he saw that many girls were dying to be with him, he decided he simply liked that. It had started on a party with several girls gushing up to meet him, and after having a no so nice breakup, a rebound had been nice. But suddenly that rebound turned into more rebounds and so his life as a new casanova started. Being wanted was something nice, and he was definitely liking it so far. He came up with a rule, never the same girl twice in a week, and nothing more than a one night stand. The rule was simple, and he could easily follow it because, oh they were raining. Tom couldn’t complain, as if he would.

He had had a little too many shots that night, and after making out with a chick dressed as a character from Stranger Things, he decided it was time to gather on the first girl he had bumped into, two days before in yet another Halloween party. He knew he would score with her easily after he told her he had to go back to shoot Spider-Man homecoming. Her face had lit up and her room number had been written on a napkin, which Tom had saved for his own convenience, and he knew that night was the night, he was just across the room where she lived, so he might as well give it a try. So he just needed to look out for her, he expected her to be already in her room, waiting for him. She had told him she’d be dressed as a sexy nurse, and hell he would not pass up that opportunity.

He was going to go to the dorms to meet up with her,  they were just across the street, so as he walked out of the party there were many students on the street dressed up for Halloween, some of them were just laughing and spilling their drinks, most of them were making out. Tom laughed, amused at the situation, seeing that he had actually already gotten some of those girls numbers. He giggled to himself as he stared at the paper where the blurred writing was placed on. He walked in confidently to the dorms humming a song to himself as he kept looking for the room.

“246….246…And here it is,” he smirked as he reached for the key Rachel, the sexy nurse had given to him, he opened the bedroom door, the lights were off, and a girl was sitting on the desk, with headphones on, and head laying down on her book.

“Hello, hello, Rachel, Rachel?” He whispered as he smirked. He walked over and he reached her to kiss her neck, with his Spider-Man mask covering half his face  “Hey, hey, I’m here, baby,” he said in between kisses. 

She suddenly moved as she woke up turning her sight to him, she started to scream the moment she looked at him, he screamed back at her. 

“Bloody hell! Who are you? What the hell is going on?” She yelled. At that moment, Tom realized he had fucked up. The girl wasn’t Rachel. 

She grabbed the book on her desk and slammed it against Tom’s face, and then she reached over to her night table which had a bottle of perfume on it. She started spraying it at his face, spraying it entirely on his mouth, causing Tom to scream even more and stumble back to fall on her bed. He coughed from the perfume. 

“Ouch! My nose, my mouth! fu-” Tom yelled as he covered his face. “I can’t -blagh, ugh my-” he coughed. “Ugh.”

Her screaming didn’t cease. He took off the mask, as he looked at her, trying to cover himself. He stood back up and motioned her to calm down. She kept screaming. 

“You’re not-you’re not Rachel!” Tom yelled.

“Of course not! She’s my roommate!” The girl yelled at him. “How did you even get here?”

“She gave me the key!” Tom answered as he reached for his nose, and then lifted the key up to show her. 

“So that automatically made you think you can kiss her roommate’s neck?” 

“She said you wouldn’t be here! She said you’d probably be studying somewhere in the library because you’re a nerd!”

“I’m not a nerd!” The girl grabbed the pillow and threw it at Tom angrily.

“What the heck? What was that?” Tom asked, and she glanced over at the pillow and frowned. “No, the other..the gosh, my nose! What’s that taste?”

“One hundred years of solitude by Gabriel García Márquez,” the girl answered. “And… Chanel n°5”

Tom covered his nose as he stared at her, and finally, let out a chuckle.

-

4 minutes later, he had his head held back in the common room, where there were some students drinking coffee, or some others were studying, she made him tilt his head forward. “Are-are you sure this-”

“Shut-” She made him pinch his nostrils together to stop the bleeding.

“Ugh, next time I’ll see who I’m getting in bed with,” he said.

“And that would be so hard, wouldn’t it?” she rolled her eyes as she stood up and poured herself some coffee and then handed him a glass of water.

“Should be more careful, yes,” Tom conceited. “So, what’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Please,” she rolled her eyes at him, sitting back down beside him. “Don’t even try it.”

“What?” Tom faked innocence. “What could I possibly be trying?” He chuckled as he gave her an ironic smile, pressing the ice against his nose.

“Yeah, I know all about you, Tom Holland.” She crossed her arms watching him.

“You do, now?” Tom smirked, as he stopped pressing his nostrils. “Wikipedia doesn’t say all the truth, you know?” 

“Don’t, you’ll start bleeding,” she ordered and placed his hand back on his nose. “But I do, I know everything about you, I know exactly who you are.”

“You’re a fan?” He asked as he slid closer to her, making her roll her eyes.

“You’ve slept with half my floor,” she sentenced. 

“Well, could’ve slept with more, but you don’t seem interested and well, your roommate wasn’t where she was supposed to be,” Tom chuckled.

“Whatever,” she rolled her eyes. “Rachel did tell me about you, and how excited she was Spider-Man was coming to the party, which honestly, I don’t see the deal with it.”

“Ah, but I am Spider-Man, and who wouldn’t want to be with Spider-Man?” He raised an eyebrow. “Shit, your book did hurt me.”

“Great, that’ll teach you on not kissing random girls without their consent..”

“Hey, hey, you can’t blame me,” Tom teased with a laugh. “Your roommate, she was dressed as a nurse today, and well… you’re not, I mean she was …she was showing way more skin than you.”

“I’m a decent girl,” she nudged him.

“A very feisty one,” Tom giggled. “So, now, please, you say you know me.”

“Yeah, you’re an actor who suddenly got his career launched and now, obviously uses that to sleep with women, but in reality, you’re actually pretty lonely and you’re using your fame to get back for all those years when you were rejected. You’re overwhelmed by all the attention.”

Tom stared at her, she could’ve left by now, yet she hadn’t. “Uh…huh, yeah that ain’t me,” Tom rolled his eyes but then gave her a small innocent smile. “I’m a nice boy.”

“Of course you are,” she threw her head back. “You’re the worst type of players, you’re one of them” she laughed at his confused expression. “You’re the kind who actually falls in love, don’t you?”

Tom bit his lip with a smirk, she did have him all figured out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You play the nice boy who falls in love, and gives off that prince charming vibe, and then in the morning you leave, saying you won’t be able to have your heart broken by them, and making them feel guilty as if they had used you instead of them.”

“I do get my heartbroken,” he defended himself.

“All of this is new right? All the attention, and you can’t get enough, bet you were the skinny weird kid.”

“Getting too personal, are we?” Tom frowned.

“I’ve got my loads of guys like you.” She shrugged. “Know all your games.”

“Really? With actors?” Tom laughed in disbelief.

The girl stared at him as she shook her head. “No, but with kids who suddenly got shredded, and suddenly found out they were attractive.”

“Am I attractive?” Tom blinked bashfully at her. She turned herself completely to him, as she watched him curiously as she sipped her coffee, taking in his features.

“Not really my type, no,” She snickered.

“Yet you’ve said you’ve had a load of guys like me,” he gave her the cockiest of smirks.

“None of them were Tom Holland,” she winked at him.

“Exactly, none of them were Spider-Man,” Tom pointed out as he winked at her.

“Hm, guess not,” she chuckled. “I’ll try to get your game, you probably first play the shy guy, probably, no, it depends on the girl, you’re an actor so you see what works with each girl, but bet you tell all of them that you’ve met RDJ,” she watched him carefully, as he ran a hand through his hair. “Ah you do that with the hair, and then give, there you are! The puppy eyes,” she smiled pleased with herself, as Tom’s eyes widened. “You lick your lips and always raise your arms to show out your muscles, huh?”

Tom felt naked with her, she knew what he was doing. “I mean,” Tom puffed his chest. “All guys… do that.”

“Could be, but okay, you probably talk about your time on set, and how you are so excited to be playing such an iconic role that Spider-Man is.”

Tom blinked as she kept talking, she was pulling her hair back in a ponytail, and she had her eyes lightly covered by dark circles, probably from all the late-night studying. He felt like such an idiot as he was getting his imagination go wild. 

“Hm, it is an iconic role,” he defended himself, coughing, as he ignored his cheeks going red.

“Yeah, gotta give that to you, I’m a Marvel fan, so yeah, you did a good job so far, I mean we’ve only seen you in Civil War and I guess that was decent,” she shrugged, trying to sound as careless as she could. “But, we are not talking about that.”

Tom felt his confidence back on track: if she was a marvel fan he could easily use that in his favour. She was definitely a girl he would love to score with, maybe it was a tough task, but he was determined. It was interesting, he knew that with this girl his usual flirting style wouldn’t work. Yeah, she wouldn’t fall for the nice boy vibe so maybe the whole douchebag style could work on her. Or maybe not. He could play the guy who doesn’t actually want anything with her and then make her beg. 

But it couldn’t work either.

“So, you like Marvel?” He asked her. 

“I love marvel,” she admitted. 

“Who’s your favourite superhero?” He pushed. 

She didn’t answer and turned away to drink her coffee, cheeks getting red. 

“Noooo!” Tom couldn’t believe it. “is it Spider-Man?” He laughed as she rolled her eyes.

“But I’ve liked him since younger,” she defended herself. “Look, Peter Parker is such a great character because he’s a smart broke boy from Queens, he is so real and Spider-Man, you never know who could be under the mask, and he just tries his best! He is so pure, and he just wants to save people because he is a good person, you know? No one rewards him, he just truly wants to help…And I’m so, wow… I love him. ”

Tom nodded in agreement, as he bit his lip giggling. She turned to him and nudged him.

“Woah, no, I meant the character,” she rolled her eyes. “Don’t get your hopes up.”

“C’mon, wouldn’t someone like you be interested to hook up with Spider-Man?” Tom asked again. “It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity. You could write about that.” 

She laughed as she shook her head. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” she stared at him. “You’re actually hitting on me? After all I’ve said to you?”

“No, I’m not,” Tom smirked as he watched her. “You see I’ve got you all figured out as well.”

“Oh,” she scoffed. “Do tell me, please.” 

“You’re a future writer, you’re studying literature or something, right? Top of your class, are we?” Tom inquired. “I bet you’ve read hundreds of books and you like writing poems in your free time.”

She bit her lip as she looked away. Tom snapped his fingers.

“Bingo!” Tom cheered. “You’re the typical girl who is different than any other girl, who brings all that bullshit of not caring and always has this sense of being mysterious and that’s why she judges other girls for being at parties.”

She shook her head as she stuck her tongue out. “Wrong. I’m a feminist, I wanna be a journalist or a writer, I don’t judge other people, I believe that we’re all allowed to party, I’m not a mystery, I’m an open book, I do care, a lot, about a lot of things I just happen not to care about you, and I’m not at a party tonight because I have a big exam coming tomorrow, in fact, I should be studying right now.” 

“You were a prodigy child, weren’t you?” Tom concluded.

“I wouldn’t say-“

“You were, you probably were part of the school newspaper,” Tom interrupted her and chuckled. “But hey, you’ve got class, you’re a refined girl. You basically are the reincarnation of elegance.”

“Refined, elegance, huh?” The girl giggled, taking a chance to stare into his eyes, only for him to notice hers. They were really pretty. In every possible way she was beautiful, but she was smart and that made her way out of his league. Maybe if he tried to play the guy who wasn’t understood.

“Yes, I mean, you did spray me with Channel NO°5,” he laughed.

“It’s pronounced Chanel,” she corrected him, making him feel a fire igniting. He gave her a corny smile.

“So you’re smart, elegant, you like superheroes and on top of that,…you’re pretty? You’re the whole deal,” Tom admitted, she shrugged as she blushed. And he almost had her wrapped around his finger, even if she kept giving him the cold look, he could be sure that she was into him. “What’s your flaw? That’s it! you’re boring!”

And he screwed it up.

“Excuse me?” The girl frowned offended, as she stood up. He realized it then, she was actually making it hard for him, she was giving him a chance to try. And he had blown it up. “Goodnight, Holland, good luck with that nose.”

“No, wait, I’m joking! I’m joking,” Tom called out for her and pulled her back from her arm, receiving a stern look from her. “I was kidding you don’t seem like the boring type.”

“I’m not,” she agreed. “I actually have an amazing sense of humour.”

“Ah, do you now?” Tom laughed. “Okay, let me start over.”

“Honestly, I have to sleep or read,” she said, and Tom chuckled.

“Really? And why haven’t you left already?” Tom inquired as he slid closer and trying to lean against her, but she stood up walked over to the other couch. Tom fell flat on the sofa as he scowled.

“Oh, I assumed you were going to look out for my roommate and I really don’t want to be near my room when that happens, so please just stay on her side of the room and don’t touch any of my stuff,” she warned him.

“Ah, I won’t sleep with her,” Tom answered.

“You won’t?” The girl rolled her eyes, and she picked up her book. “Well, your problem.”

“I wanna stay here and talk to you,” Tom declared as he stood up to look out for food in the room, he was sobering up and he had become extremely hungry. He realized there was a box of cookies so he plopped back on the couch, throwing them into his mouth.

“Told you it won’t work with me,” she said as she had her eyes glued on her book.

“I know that,” Tom walked over and sat on the armrest of the couch. “You haven’t got the look.”

The girl frowned as she looked up at him, closing her book. “The look?”

“Uh-huh, the doggy bowl look,” Tom took her by the chin and she slapped his hand off, making Tom giggle.

“Did you just call me a dog?”

“It’s a theory.”

“Do all fuckboys have theories?” The girl rolled her eyes as she changed back to the original sofa, Tom followed her.

“We do, we go to a course, just like all of you different girls go to that class where they tell you how to destroy a man’s feelings.”

“Oh, I graduated with honours from that class,” she smirked playfully.

“So you do have a sense of humour,” Tom laughed. “Well m’lady that course is paying off.”

“Glad it did,” she poked him. “So what’s that theory?”

“You see when a girl actually likes a guy, she has a look. It’s her tell, like…. poker!”

“Poker.”

“Yeah, and it’s exactly the same face a dog makes when you put down the bowl!”

“You’re disgusting,” she told him. Some other girls had walked into the common room and started whispering to each other, as they giggled while watching Tom, he winked at them causing them to blush and snicker.

“See? See that look?” Tom pointed when they left. “You don’t have the look.”

“You’re crazy,” she roared standing up, picking her book.

Tom chuckled watching her, “I’m honest, I like honesty, I think it’s the best quality.”

She started to walk away but stopped to turn around and glare at him.

“Oh, so you want me to be honest with you?” She crossed her arms with her book in her hands.

“Go on,” he smirked. “Destroy me, why can’t I physically  appeal to you?”

“Your nose is bent,” she pointed to her own nose, and wrinkled it. “it drops down at the bottom, a feature accentuated by the thinness of your lips, you have tiny eyes and they are way too far apart, your eyebrows look weird, and your hair… huh, your hair ain’t that bad but it won’t cover your bent nose,” she poked his nose. “And you are so desperate for attention from being so lonely that you validate yourself by having sport like meaningless, insatiable sex with insecure girls like Rachel who only want to be with you so they can say they slept with a celebrity,” she started to walk away. “and you’re right, I don’t have the look, I’d never have sex with someone like you.”

She walked away from the common room and Tom grinned following her.

“Wow!” He said with excitement as he ran after. “That was amazing!”

“What?” She scowled.

“The honesty, the feisty being it was even better than the sex without uh, the crying you know?”

“Huh, funny it did feel pretty good,” she chuckled as she turned confused to the boy who actually seemed pleased with himself.

“It was incredible,” Tom agreed. “No one’s ever been that honest with me.”

“That’s what friends are for,” she winked at him.

“So you know my name, what’s yours?” He asked her.

“Y/N, Y/N Y/L/N,” she chuckled as they arrived at her dorm.

“Ya know,” Tom looked at her. “Give me your number.” Y/N stared at him with a frown. “I won’t try anything I genuinely want to be friends with you.”

“I just destroyed you as a person,” y/n scoffed.

“Sounds like an ideal friend,” he grinned as he handed his phone over. She hesitated but ended up giving it to him, he tried to steal her phone from her hands. “Now I’ll give you mine so you know who’s texting.”

She unlocked it and she gave it to him, he added himself and took a silly selfie to add it to his contact.

“Goodnight,” y/n said, as he reached up for her chin, making her look at up. “Your hand is clammy.”

“I can see through your blouse,” he snapped with arrogance.

“I’m wearing a hoodie, so no, you can’t,” she informed him.

“I hate you,” he joked, she ended up laughing before opening her bedroom door, to reveal a very drunk Rachel, laying down on her bed.

“He-eeey Tom!” she sat up the moment she heard the door open, her voice sounded particularly dizzy. “Can you…” her talking was dragged. “Can you like… show me your set pictures with Chris Evans… and hic, R… D…J?”

Y/N sighed as she patted him on the back. “All yours, Parker.” Y/N left with a smirk.

Tom blinked watching the woman, whose cleavage was showing a bit more than desired. “Tommy?”

Tom watched the girl puke on a nearby trash can and Tom wrinkled his nose. “Get some sleep, Rachel.” He closed the door before running after Y/N. “Hey, where you heading to?”

Y/N frowned as she watched him. “I am a nerd, so I’m heading to the campus library to read.”

“Huh, but aren’t you hungry? It’s on me.” Tom looked at her as she watched him with hesitation. “Not as a date.”

“Well, what in this world is open at 4 am?” She laughed.“But yeah, haven’t eaten anything since the morning. Whatcha have in mind, Spidey?”

“I know this milkshake place.”

Tom smirked, no he hadn’t scored with a girl that night, but he had gotten something better. The best friend he could ever ask for.

teaser

next chapter

series masterlist

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i stole this tag list from another fic tell me if you don’t wanna be tagged lol sorry

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[dalamjisung]

just in case ❊ mark tuan

word count: 2324

genre: fluff

pairing: reader x mark tuan

description: he accidentally leaves with one of your shopping bags. could it be fate?

“Y/N, please,” Your friend begs, hands clasped together and pouty lips. “I promise this is the last store. I just want to check their winter collection. I need new sweaters now that it’s getting cold!”

“What’s wrong with your old sweaters?” You groan, allowing her to drag you by the hand inside the store that looks exactly like the ones before. 

“Exactly that, they’re old.”

If you could kill Chae, you would. You’d been shopping for hours now, and once she ran out of hands to carry bags, you stepped up, leading up to where you are now, sitting down in a comfortable chair, surrounded by bags, waiting on your friend. The people checking out clothes would place at you and giggle, pointing at the bags and whispering to each other. It isn’t like you care about your public image, but even you got embarrassed; this was just too much. 

“Don’t worry,” A voice called from beside you. “You’re not alone.”

You turn your head to the side only to find a smiling boy, also sitting down, also surrounded by shopping bags. Your brows shoot up, mouth hanging open. He had almost twice as many bags as you did. 

“How did you carry all of that?” You gasp, looking at his sheepish smile.

“I have long arms,” It’s all he says. “And my friend is a compulsive buyer. He’s a pro at this.”

He nods with his head to the boy grabbing sweater after sweater from the rack and pilling it up on the helpers trembling arms. He laughs at something the store clerk said and shakes his head, handling her more clothes to try on. 

“My friend is not much different,” This time you are the one nodding towards your friend, but instead of looking at clothes, you find her flirting with the worker, laughing at something he said. “Although I think she got a little sidetracked…”

The boy next to you laughs and you can’t help but laugh too; you couldn’t ignore the fact that this person is incredibly attractive, and when he smiles you can’t help but notice his sharp canines. That is oddly endearing, you think. 

You two talk for a few minutes more, until one of you hear a loud thud. At the same time, both of you look for the source of the sound.

“Oh shit,” You whisper once you notice your friend arguing with another woman, both their hands on a pair of jeans. You know where this is going and you are quick to grab all of the bag, saying a quick goodbye to the cute guy before running to your friend. You apologize to the people in the store before dragging her out of there, lecturing her about manners all the way back to the car. 

“Ah, alright, alright, I’m sorry,” Chae pouts, crossing her arms like a spoiled kid. “All I’m saying is that I grabbed the jeans first.”

“You bought three pairs just like that one!” You laugh, patting her head as you drive down the street. 

“Yeah, yeah, but those were faded black,” She explains, as you park in front of you guys’ building. “I had a dark black, a dark blue, and a faded blue, but not a faded black.”

“I see,” You say ironically. “A complete necessity.”

“It is!”

“I waited for almost forty minutes for a faded black jeans that you didn’t even buy,” You giggle. “Doesn’t seem like a necessity to me.”

“Ah, but you weren’t alone, were you?” Chae pokes you with her elbow and winks at you. “I saw you chatting with that cute guy.”

“Yeah, he was pretty cute,” You smirk, feeling a boost of confidence surging through your veins.

“Did you get his name?”

“No,” You sigh with a frown. “Because someone got into a fight.”

“Ah, I’m sorry babe,” Chae winces, while rummaging through her bags. “Hey, have you seen the bag with my new sunglasses?”

“I’m sure it’s in there, somewhere,” You shrug moving to the kitchen and grabbing a beer. 

You sit on the couch, drinking, and watching your friend desperately look for the tiny bag, when her phone starts ringing. 

“Hello?” She asks softly, staring ate you with wide eyes. “Yes, this is her. What?! I was just looking for it… yes… ah, okay– not it’s no problem, thanks for calling! Yes, tomorrow is perfect! Thank you… you too!”

You raise an eyebrow. “What the hell?”

“Apparently,” You friend chuckles while glaring at you. “Someone was too busy flirting with cute guy, and forgot my bag.”

You choke on your beer. “No way! I’m so sorry, Chae!”

“Oh, but that’s not the best part,” She smiled wide. “I think cute guy got the bags confused and took it by accident. He called the store and asked them to contact me, and voila!”

“You got the glasses back?” You exclaimed excitedly.

“Nope,” She climbs onto the couch with you, leaning closer. “But you will. Tomorrow at 5PM at the store, bring the glasses this time, please.”

You actually spit some of your beer on her shirt. 

“Sorry, what?”

“You were the one that mixed the bags up,” She shrugs. “And I have a huge interview tomorrow for the magazine’s next edition, so I wouldn’t be able to go anyways.”

“Chae,” You groan. “You are just trying to set me up.”

“And what is so wrong with that?” She laughs, going to the bathroom. “I’m showering first!”

You just mumble something in return and make a bee-line to your room. If you had to go anyways, you’d at least look good. 

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

“I’m going to be late,” You wince at the phone as you run out of your office and into your car. “Call the store and let them know that I’ll be there in 20!”

“Goddammit Y/N,” Chae sighs. “You’re making cute boy wait!”

“I know and I feel bad as it is,” You bite back, frustrated at everything and everyone thanks to your awful day at work. “Fucking Jisoo gave me another spec commercial to work on…”

“I hate your boss,” Chae exclaims. “But I’m sure cute guy will understand and wait for you.”

“I hope so,” You bite your lip nervously. “I’m on my way there. Talk to you later.”

You turn off the phone and drive as fast as possible to the store you were on the previous day. The guy would probably leave the glasses with a worker if you took too long, and for someone reason that bothers you until you make your big entrance, sweat dripping down your face and hair pointing to all directions. You could only find a parking spot a few blocks away, so you ran to the store, hoping to still catch cute guy in there.

“Oh, hello!” One of the workers greets you by the door. “You are here for your glasses, right?”

“Yeah,” You smile sheepishly. “Did the person come by already?”

“Yeah,” She says and you can’t help but let your smile falter and frown. “But he’ll be back anytime, now.”

“What?”

“He got here a few minutes ago,” She chuckles, winking at you. “And we told him he could just leave the glasses at the cashier, but he said he wanted to return them personally.”

You blush, and laugh with the girl, feeling your hopes come back at full force. You too engage in small talk for a couple of minutes before you feel someone poking your shoulder.

“Hi.”

And there he was. Cute guy; looking even cuter. He had that same wolfish smile you were so endeared by, and you feel like you could melt. 

“Hi,” You say, turning to face him after noticing that the store worker was already gone. Silence follows the greeting only for a short moment. “I’m sorry.”

“I think I’m the one that’s supposed to apologize,” He laughs, and gives you the small bag with your friend’s glasses inside. “I’m sorry, I thought they were BamBam’s, and I must’ve just grabbed it without noticing.”

“It’s nothing, really,” You smile, looking straight into his eyes. You could hear how guilty he felt, and you just wanted to hold his hand and reassure him that everything is alright. “Thank you for bringing it back, though. You could’ve just dropped them here and–“

“But then I wouldn’t be able to see you,” He smiles, and although you don’t miss the blush in his cheeks, you could swear you’ve never seen a man wear his confidence like this man. “I wasn’t expecting you, to be honest, but this is an incredible surprise.”

“Well,” You cough, trying to get yourself back together. “In that case, fancy a cup of coffee?”

“I was hoping you’d ask.”

“What if I didn’t?” You tease, guiding him out of the store and down the street, where you knew of a nice coffee shop. 

“Then I would’ve,” He shrugs, and smiles shyly. For someone with so much confidence, he often looked a little shy. “But I’m glad you did; I didn’t want you to feel obligated to go just because I returned your glasses…”

Isn’t this why he’s coming?!, you wonder, mind suddenly going off. If he wasn’t coming as an apology, was he coming because he liked you? You smile at the thought and instantly warmed up to it– it wasn’t that farfetched. 

“No,” You say after an awkward pause. “I definitely want to go have coffee with you.”

You had never been this forward in your whole life, usually saving up the confidence to present your final projects to clients. Working on a Publicity firm was not an easy job, and it ended taking up most of your free time and personal energy, but there was just something about this boy that made you think that it was all worth it.

It’s only when you two order your coffee that you look at each other with glee and giggles, having just found each other’s names.

“Mark, huh?” You ask with a teasing smile. “Suits you.”

“Y/N,” He tries it out. “I like that.”

You two talk for a while, and it is a wonder that you two haven’t met yet. Mark is a marketing director at one of your firm’s competitors, and you two laugh about the project they stole from you last month, and the project you stole from them this week. You find out that you two went to the same university at the same time, even if he was a senior when you were a freshman; and not only that, Mark also knew fucking Jisoo.

“She’s the devil,” He sighs. “But she’s the best out there for what we do.”

“She really is,” You agree, laughing. “But damn, she tires me out. I haven’t been able to relax like this in a long time…”

You stop talking after you realize what you’ve said. Your face heats up and you stammer an apology, looking down at your coffee. When you hear him laughing, you bit your lip, nervous to look at him. “Y/N,” He calls. “Y/N, come on, there’s no need to be embarrassed. I haven’t been this happy in a while, too.”

At this, your brows shot up. “I said relaxed.”

“And I said happy,” He smiles. “Does it matter?”

And it doesn’t, really; not when he’s looking at you as if you were the only thing he could see; not when he was smiling at you as if he already knew that you’re the one– the only one,– for him. The connection with Mark was instant, and you would be damned if you let him go. 

“Can I–“

“Would you–“

You two talk at the same time and giggle as if you’re teenagers. It felt so good– to feel your age again, to not have the crushing weight of deadlines and spec presentations, and work, and you boss, and bills, and just enjoy the company of someone you liked, and that liked you back. 

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” Mark asks with blushed cheeks and shimmering eyes. “I wasn’t expecting to see you and I was ready to ask your friend for your number. The fact that you showed up today could have only been…”

“Fate,” You say, smiling and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s what you were going to say, right?”

“Got me there,” He nods. “So?”

“I’d love to have dinner with you,” You say softly, and pulling a pen from your purse, you write your number down on a pice of paper and give it to him. “Text me the details later?”

“Y-Yeah, I’ll text you later,” His voice is so soft and mellow that you find yourself getting a little hotter. “Come on, I’ll walk you to your car.”

“Thanks, Mark,” You say, already gathering your things.

You two walk in a comfortable silence, throwing random comments at each other until you reach your car. 

“Do you need a ride?” You ask, walking to the driver’s side as he opened the door for you. 

“No, my car is just a block away,” He leans towards you, arms propped on the roof of your car and head a little above yours, making you look up at him. “But thanks. Here; don’t forget this again.”

He holds the sunglass’ bag to you. 

“Keep it,” You say with a smile, kissing his cheek, and pushing him a little so you can close the door. You roll the window down just so you can giggle and say. “Just in case you forget to text me.”

“Definitely not a possibility,” He laughs. “But if it gives me more of a reason to see you again, even better.”

“See you soon, Y/N.” 

“See you soon, Mark.”

Your friend is ready to kill you once you show up at your apartment without her glasses, but you don’t mind; you’d get it back soon enough. 

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

anddd here if my first fic of 2020! I wanted to thank you all for the endless support and love ❤️ you are amazing! now, I hope you enjoy this fic :D let me know!

[365days365movies]

February 20, 2021: An Affair to Remember (Review)

This movie was wonderful! 

And I have many positive things to say about it, I promise, but...It’s possible that Nora Ephron was right, because I was never brought to tears by this movie. At all. 

Look, obviously Sleepless in Seattle isn’t technically correct, since the running joke about this movie runs on a dated gender-based set of perceptions about the movie-going experience. You know, women like romances, and men like guns, that kinda shit. But I do like romances, and this one was great! But...I don’t know if it was as amazing as I was expecting.

I DID like the movie, to be clear! Look, I’ll prove it. I’ll go through, category-by-category, and try to fully disseminate my feelings on it. In others, yeah, time for the Review! Check out the Recap here and here beforehand if you’re curious!

Review

Cast and Acting: 8/10

From the very beginning, I knew that Cary Grant would appear on this list at some point. One of the classic Hollywood heartthrobs and major leading men, he was basically a romance movie dynamo. Bringing Up Baby, The Philadelphia Story, His Girl Friday, Arsenic and Old Lace, Charade, North by Northwest, and of course this film are just some of the few classic films that he’s known for, and 4 of those are romances. I’ve seen half of those films, and one of them is gonna pop up in a few days. But how was he here? To be honest...he’s Cary Grant. Suave, cool, charming, handsome, and a smooth-talker with a romantic soft side. That’s most Cary Grant characters, really.

How about Deborah Kerr? Well, I don’t know her as well, but she definitely played a typical role of the time as well. She was good, though! She was definitely good in the role, no argument there. She had her somewhat over-the-top moments, but nothing too crazy. Most prominently, though, is their chemistry, which is gorgeous. Unsurprisingly, a pairing with Grant definitely generated some great chemistry, and my biggest complaint with the film might be the fact that we essentially lose that at the halfway point, almost entirely. So, yeah, that is an issue for me. What about the supporting cast? Mostly fine, although basically all of the kid actors were...well, 1950s kid actors, to be frank.

Plot and Writing: 7/10

A lot of the power of the actors in this movie comes from the writing, and it’s a bit melodramatic, sure...but it’s also some damn good writing in other instances. The movie is based off of a 1939 film, written and directed by the same person, Leo McCarey. He also brought in Delmer Daves and Donald Ogden Stewart. Which is ironic, when you really think about it. A movie that Sleepless associated with women almost religiously, and it was almost entirely written by men. I say almost becaue the story was developed by McCarey and Mildred Cram. But that was for the original film, Love Affair, so this film wasn’t really written or developed by her. Anyway, the writing was good! The plot...basically lost its momentum right in the middle, after the car accident. I feel like there could’ve been a way to improve it, because a lot of it is...not great.

Directing and Cinematography: 9/10

But the direction and cinematography? Damn, Leo McCarey and Milton Krasner! This film’s camerawork is stellar, as is the shot construction. It gets a little dodgier in the latter half sometimes, but it’s still pretty great most of the time. Some impressive shots scattered all throughout, and it’s worth a high score!

Production and Art Design: 9/10

Production and art design is great, too! Kerr gets to wear some iconic outfits, the cruise ship is pretty memorable, as is the little French village, and there are some iconic looks in the movie. Is it the most memorable? Eh, Cary Grant looks like Cary Grant, so no. But still, this also deserves a high score!

Music and Editing: 8/10

This is good...although not very diverse. The title song plays about 4 times in the film in one capacity or another, which is...a lot. It’s a lot, not gonna lie. It’s a great song, and Nat King Cole did a cover of it that I really like, so there are some points there, but I also probably won’t add this to my playlist, even the NKC version. Sacrilege, I know. The rest of the score, composed by Hugo Friedhofer, is still quite lovely, and reflects classic Hollywood tones. And again, it is quite good, and it’s definitely a fitting score for this movie.

I think an 82% is pretty good!

Look, this movie is sappy as hell, and it kinda drops off for me after the halfway point, but it is still a sweet movie. Real talk, this is the kind of movie I’d recommend to my mom, because I think she’d like it. My Dad...eh, probably not, it’s not funny enough for his tastes.

However, I will say, this does make me want to go to the Empire State Building with the GF. We’re gonna go back to the city one of these days, so who knows? Maybe I’ll figure out some cinetourism and we’ll go up there, be all romantic and shit. But anyway, that was interesting! Cool to see a movie starring one of the classic movie hearththrobs. Let’s see, we’ve got a Grant...how about a Bogart? OOH, and a Hepburn!

February 21, 2021: The African Queen (1951)

[copias-cape]

I recently rediscovered this interview with Tobias that was translated by TotalJunkRat on Reddit where near the end Tobias speaks as though he’s talking to his brother. (He cries, you guys, it’s emotional. My heart.)

It makes me weep every time, so that’s your warning, but his sentiments really were so beautiful I decided to post the part about his brother, and I highly recommend checking out the whole transcript.

“And Sebastian - It was as if he still was just a phone call away and could encourage the whole thing and share this with me...“

The rest below the cut.

“I could hear his voice beside me, which communicated and said "Let's rock - The train is on the station and about to go, now.. It goes now! Take the chance now, when you've finally gotten it!" - and I did so, I did it so fucking hard - and I didn't stop.

I yet haven't stopped, since that day. I'm not going to do so either, until it's for real is has reached an end - Do you hear me, Sebastian? I did it at last.. It took some time.. and it was very sad that we didn't get to experience this thing together. It would be great if you could've come out on some tour and visit.. But, sometimes it actually feels like we meet, on different locations around the world.

I found some discs I know you loved, that you played on the stereo, I find discs everywhere in the world.. Sometimes with Crass, Adverts, Allsköns punk.. And I'm thinking of you. I'm watching movies, that I know I watched with you when I was young. Some of them are fantastic, some of them are beyond bad and not at all like I remember it.. Fun House, for example.. What a crappy fucking movie. I remembered it as very scary, despite you telling me that it wasn't for real.

Not long ago me and Mino saw Aliens, the second one that is, when she was with me in the touring bus and.. she was sitting in my lap, like I was sitting in your lap when we saw the first movie.. We laughed and had a great time.. When the blood splattered.. Because we told each other all the time that it was all faked.

We have agreed on watching the real movie next time, the first movie, that really is so much better. A really really spooky movie.

I sometimes meet some of your old idols, Steve Jones interviewed me in his radio show and he was actually exactly that punky-cool one can imagine, and he actually liked Ghost. I've gotten to know those in Metallica.. I have James’ number and we speak at times.. You didn't see that one coming, ay?

Who would've thought that when we went to see them in Stadion '93, and by the way - thank you for letting me sit on your shoulders then.. It must've been heavy.. It was a quiet long concert.

And I've just come home from a 7-week tour with Iron Maiden.. Grasp that.. We're playing on icehockey-arenas, people cheered.. We apparently have something very fucking large going on "over there" as one says.

We just need to record a new album now and then.. In spring we can go on tour again and then it's another years and a half on the roads, you see.. No rest for the wicked. No calm, and no rest.. I told you I'd work my ass of if I just got to work with what I wanted.. You remember?

Did I tell you about the Grammy, by the way? I got one of those.. about a year ago. We were in LA and went on a celebrity party, it was very big.

Mother is very proud, and tells everyone who I am, even if it's supposed to be a secret. But fuck that now, I suppose.

I look for books that I know you loved and always told me that I should read. And I still miss some of those Sture Dahlström-books that you cheered for, but I'm keeping and eye out.. I'm always looking for them. The problem is that I can find them in Sweden, and.. I very much want to have the original-editions and not new...

I still re-create your disc-collection in my own and I often feel closer to you when I listen to music to I knew you liked. Wherever I look, I see things that you've shown me.. It feels like you're always walking besides me.. I still go hand in hand with you.. On our way from the city, home to Tannefors.. Home to Tegelsbruksgatan.. I'm still the 5 year old who jumps around in the couch at our home, dressed in your and mothers clothes with make-up, rocking.. To hard rock. I'm still the 5 year old that you cheered for when I did something bad, that you'd encouraged me to do.. I'm still the 5 year old who have a bad language in front of you and your laughing friends.. It's a few more people who laughs nowadays.. And applaud they do as well, and that's very fun.

It feels like you're with me everywhere, and we're happy together about everything that happens.. And one thing you must know.. I'm still your biggest fan.. Thank you for everything, my beloved brother.

See you in Nangijala.*

My name is Tobias Forge. I'm the man behind the mask in Ghost.

Thank you for listening.”

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*I don’t know how many people already know this but I had to look it up. I found out that Nangijala is from the storybook, The Brothers Lionheart, written by Astrid Lindgren,

From Wikipedia:

“In an unnamed Swedish city, ten year-old Karl Lejon has found out that he is going to die from tuberculosis. His adored big brother, 13-year-old Jonatan, calms him down and tells him that in the afterlife, all men will go to a land known as Nangijala, a land in "the campfires and storytelling days".

One day, a fire breaks out in the Lejon home. Jonatan takes Karl on his back and jumps out of the house's window to save him, but dies himself in the fall. Karl is crestfallen over his brother's death, until, just before his own demise, he receives a sign which allays his fears of death, and when he wakes again, he finds himself in the Cherry Valley of Nangijala, where he is happily reunited with Jonatan.“