#JUST IN THE SENSE THAT IF SOMEONE'S NICE TO YOU FOR .5 SECONDS YOU'RE ALL DOKIDOKI ABOUT IT

[todayisafridaynight]

i think it’s so funny but pretty sad that mine was so desperate for someone that he considered kanda in that one rggo story but kanda actually just came back for the money not to save mine so he was like nvm this guy sucks

if i may be so daring to say mine was real as hell for that.

[rosenclaws]

Jinx (or 5 times you mess things up in front of Logan and 1 time you don't) || Logan Howlett x Reader

summary: You bring bad luck and have all your life and when you meet Logan you expect him to react the same way everyone has. To your shock he doesn't. That doesn't stop you from making a fool of yourself in front of him though. Many. Many times.

warnings: flirty logan, swearing, reader has mutant fire powers, fighting, logan has ptsd in water, he lashes out bc of it, possible ooc but idc, fighting, injury, comfort, blood, explosions

wc: 5k

a/n: Okay so I fucking LOVE arcane and I thought about a fic where the reader is like Jinx in the sense of she just has really bad luck all the time. She also has fire powers because I think they're cool and after that one drabble I wanted to do more with it. This is my longest fic so I hope you like it!!!

The First meeting

You might be the first mutant with a nickname that is more of an insult than a call sign. It started when you arrived here. Just a teenager looking for a place to call home. The mansion was that home and you loved every second of it. Your fire wielding powers were dangerous but exciting and with the help of the teachers you sort of learned how to train them.

But for some reason you didn't get some cool fire nickname you got stuck with Jinx. It's not your fault that bad things just happen around you. Really. You don't do anything to cause them on purpose but the bad luck seems to just follow you where ever you go.

You got the nickname after you managed to break the fountain. Seriously though how can that be so fragile. All you did was kick a soccer ball and you might have taken its head off.

Bad things just seemed to happen over and over again. You might have set fire to some curtains. Or the carpet. Or smashed a vase or two.

Even when you graduated and became a teacher things just happened. Missing papers, breaking pencils, the ceiling caves in because a family of fat racoons decided to make their home there. Things that were out of your control just happened.

So they called you Jinx. Was it lovingly? Maybe.

No one has kicked you out yet so that's a good sign. They do tend to avoid standing too close to you though. Which honestly is for the best.

It was a commotion in the main lobby that catches your attention today. The sound of a gruff voice peaks your interest. Peering into the room you see Rogue and Storm talking to a man.

"It's good to see you Logan." Oh! Wolverine.

You missed his first stop by the mansion. You were off doing something else for Charles when he was brought here originally and you were supposed to fly back to help as usual. You flight got canceled due to weather. So by the time you came back he had already gone.

You heard Rouge gossiping with the other students about him. She mentioned he was handsome but fuck he was even better than you thought.

You lean forward a little more and end up losing your balance and falling flat on your face. The three of them look at you and you wave, trying to save yourself some embarrassment. You can see Logan looking at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Jinx! Come meet Logan." Rogue calls you over and you stand up. Brushing yourself off as you walk over.

"Nice to meet you Logan." You hold out your hand but he just looks at it.

"Jinx?" He says instead. A smirk on his face as he speaks.

"It's a nickname, don't you have one too Wolverine?" He chuckles and you have hope that you're charming enough. Most of the time something really unlucky happens when you meet someone for the first time.

"Will I see you around Jinx?" If you didn't know better you'd say he was flirting.

He steps closer to you and you stumble back in surprise. He's intimidating with his broad shoulders and animal like grin. You let out a small scream as you trip on your feet and fall backwards. Right into Scott. Scott falls like a domino and you hear a crack.

"Scott! Are you okay?!" You rush to his side but suddenly a beam of energy shoots through his eyes.

You feel someone grab your arm and pull you away from him. Ducking your head as the beam shoots into the door. Scott closes his eyes but the damage is already done. The front doors of the beautiful mansion were destroyed. Everyone waits in silence as Charles appears from his office holding an extra pair of glasses for Scott.

"I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean to bump into you." Apologies tumble out of your mouth as Scott fixes his new glasses.

"Don't worry about it, It was an accident Jinx." He places a hand on your shoulder and smiles but you can tell you fucked up. Again. You smile back but it falls once he leaves.

"I'm sorry about your door Professor." You mumble as you look at the destruction.

"It's alright, we'll get it fixed." You slowly walk off, letting people asses the damage.

You pass by Logan who watches you as you slink back to your room. You had hoped that maybe you could have gotten to know Logan before he found out how you got your nickname.

So much for first impressions.

2. In the kitchen

The next time you encounter Logan is in the kitchen. Despite your inherent unluckiness you still loved to cook. Sure you had cuts and burns from all your attempts but your dishes ended up pretty good. You're making a stew this time. Band aids are already on some of your fingers as you stir the pot.

"Smells good." You let out a scream as you drop the spoon into the soup. The fridge opens up and you see Logan rummaging through the shelves.

"Beer's behind the peas." You mumble as you try and fish out the spoon.

"Ow!" You hiss as you burn yourself again.

The hot metal spoon burned your hand. Logan watches as you put your hand under the sink and put some cold water on it.

"Ironic I know, the mutant with fire powers burns herself when cooking." You mutter catching his amused look.

He walks over and takes your hand, pressing his cold beer to the small burn. You sigh as the cold drink sends relief through your hand. You get a better look at Logan like this.

He's just dressed in jeans and a tank top. His muscles are practically bulging through the already stretchy fabric. He's got this dangerous aura around him that makes you hesitant at first. Not to mention the whispers about him. How violent he could be, the things he’s done. Everything he’s been through. But you didn’t care.

"So is Jinx because your clumsy?" He asks as he checks on your burn.

"Kind of, more like unlucky things just seem to happen to me I guess." Your eyes are focused on where Logan's hand is holding your wrist.

His hands are rough but his touch feels so nice. His grip is firm but not enough to hurt you. The fact that he's even helping you is bizarre. Anyone else would just chalk it up to you and let you deal with it yourself.

"I'm surprised you haven't run for the hills yet. You know, the first day you meet me I end up destroying the door." To your surprise Logan laughs.

"Technically Scott destroyed the door." He counters.

"Yeah well I broke his glasses." You take your hand away from his beer and turn your attention back to the soup.

For some reason Logan doesn't leave. He watches you as you cook and you like the company. You tense as you feel him get closer to you. His chest almost against your back as he peers over your shoulder. He's so close. You take a wooden spoon this time and stir the soup. Lifting a little bit to your lips.

"Can I have a taste?" Logan asks.

You turn your head to find his face incredibly close to yours. Really close. So close that you can barely focus on anything other than his lips. You don't notice the burner getting more intense as all your focus is on Logan.

"Shit!" Logan hisses as the soup practically explodes all over the kitchen. Soup splatters every possible place including your clothes. Making a massive mess.

"Dammit!" You turn down the burner and see if there's anything left you can salvage but there's nothing. You must have caused the burner to go haywire.

"I'm sorry Logan." You say defeatedly as you wipe soup from your forehead. Logan takes his thumb and wipes the soup off your cheek.

"Tasty." He says as he licks his thumb. He doesn’t break eye contact. Enjoying the effect he’s having on you.

You stand with your mouth open as he walks off like he didn't just do that. The flames on the burner get bigger once again and you turn it off. You grab the roll of paper towels and start to clean.

The faint touch of Logan's thumb still on your mind.

3. In the garage

After your kitchen disaster you found yourself wandering the mansion instead. It had been a couple weeks but you decided to avoid the kitchen for now. Now you had too much free time on your hands. That's how you ended up here, in the garage. Except this time it was you who found Logan. He was working on his motorcycle. Shirtless. Okay that's totally normal right? You think to yourself as you sit and watch.

"When did you learn how to ride?" You ask as you watch him screw in something to somewhere, you don't know too much about motorcycles.

"Long time ago." He answers gruffly as he wipes his forehead with a rag.

"Like ten, twenty, a million years ago?" Logan chuckles and stands up. Your eyes trace the veins on his arms as he puts his hands on his hips.

"More like a hundred." He sits on his bike and turns it on. He's double checking everything and notices you looking in awe.

"You ever ridden before?" He asks and you shake your head.

"Alright then come here." He gestures for you to get on and you perk up. He gets off and holds the handle bars, letting you get on. You're extra careful. This bike looked expensive and Logan had just spent hours working on it. The last thing you wanted to do was jinx things. Again.

"Woah." You giggle as you run your hands along the smooth metal.

"So you put one foot here and the other stays on the floor." He guides you gently and you do as he says. You place your hands next to his on the handlebars.

"When I was a kid I this bike. It was purple with a basket in the front." You tell him. You loved that bike. Rode it whenever you could. You had the bruises to prove it from the amount of times you fell off.

"I rode it into a bush once. Got these bumps all over my skin." Logan takes his hands off the bike leaving just you holding it up.

"Well it's no purple bike, but I can take you on a ride one day. There's this diner about twenty minute away if you’re interested.” He offers. You grin and tighten your grip on the handles.

"Sounds like you're asking me on a date." You say boldly.

Before Logan could say anything there's a loud bang. Backfire from something but it scares the hell out of you. Without thinking you heat up the bike and jump off of it. Logan tries to grab it but the handles burn his hand. You watch in horror as it falls on its side. You try to stop it but it only ends up landing on your foot.

"Fuck!" You grab your foot as pain shoots through your body. That thing is heavy. Logan clutches his hand for a second before the burn heals. He picks up the bike and kicks the stand open so it can stay up on its own. Your eyes brim with tears when you see the dirty and scratches that have ruined the newly cleaned shiny metal.

"Logan I'm so sorry." He sighs and walks over to you.

"Your foot okay?" It hurts but it's not broken. You try to set it down but you can't. The pain is too much. You try to hide it but he sees right through you.

"Let's get you to the lab." You try to protest but he doesn't listen. Helping you out of the garage and to the lab. Ignoring the fact that you just caused him even more trouble. As you get patched up he leaves. You hang your head low as you think of a way to make it up to him.

Later that night Logan can't sleep. The nightmares don’t let him. So he makes his way back down to the garage. He needs to start over on fixing his bike anyways. As he approaches the door be notices the lights already on. To his surprise he finds you there. Fast asleep with your head on a chair.

You're body is uncomfortably kneeling on the ground. Your foot is wrapped and there's crutches leaning against the wall. There's rags and wax sitting by your side and his bike looks brand new. He kneels down and shakes you awake.

"Hey there sweetheart." He says as you open your eyes.

You mumble something incoherent and shut your eyes. Logan bends down and picks you up in his arms. He carries you back to your bed laying a blanket over you as you melt into your pillows. He elevates your foot before he leaves. People may call you a Jinx but you've got a heart of gold. He goes back to the garage and cleans up everything, making a mental note to take you on that date when you're foot is better.

4. Ice Skating

It took a month for your foot to finally heal up. Broken no, fractured, yes. It was a pain trying to get around on crutches but Logan ended being your own personal transportation. He would help you get down the stairs, reach the high shelf, drive you to the store. Whatever you needed he was there.

He even took you to that diner. Sharing a milkshake and cheese fries. He looked past your nickname, sure he called you Jinx but when he did it felt sweeter. He had seen your unluckiness first hand and yet he still chooses to be by your side. It was all you ever wanted.

Sure you had friends at the mansion but you could tell they thought of you as a small burden, a nuisance. They were still kind to you but you always saw their faces when something went wrong. With Logan there was none of that. He embraced every part of you. Now with your foot all healed and the winter starting to settle over the mansion you were all clear for winter activities.

Your favorite one being ice skating. A large pond was the perfect place for you and some of the kids to go. Logan had tagged along but only did so because you begged him to go. Pretty please with a cherry on top was enough to get him to chaperone.

You skated along with some of the kids. Others had set up an ice hockey game. It was pure childhood joy. Something that these kids didn't get all the time. Logan was sitting on a bench by the edge of the pond just watching. You skated over and put your hands on your hips.

"Come on Logan, you can't just come to the lake and not skate." You whine. He raises an eyebrow and stays put on that bench.

"I don't do skating sweetheart, or lakes."

"Ten minutes, just ten minutes and I'll leave you alone." You pout and clasp your hands together. He stares at you for a moment before relenting.

"Fine." You let out a happy cheer as he laces up the pair of skates you got for him. You hold out your hands as Logan struggles to balance on the skates.

"See, you're a natural." Logan wobbles and lets out a string of curses as he tries to walk on ice.

"Shut up." He says with no bite in his voice.

Your fingers interlock with his hand as you start slow. This was hell for Logan but seeing your smile made it worth it. You skate around the lake with him, laughing when he glares at the kids who laugh at him. Seeing him so out of his element was funny.

"Okay that's it I'm done." He grunts out as you come to a stop near the middle of the lake.

"Thank you for trying." You know he's not really having fun but it meant a lot he was willing to even get on the ice for you.

"Teacher! Jinx!" A loud cry comes from the kids. You gasp as you notice the ice starting to crack. You made sure the ice was thick enough. You triple checked how could this be happening. You see Logan start to panic so you take action.

"Everyone stay calm!" You yell out.

"If you can make it off now then do it. If you're too far away then I need you to get on your stomach and spread your legs out. Then slowly crawl to the edge. Anyone who is off the lake help pull others to safety." You stay as calm as you can as you make sure everyone is safe. To your relief the ice stays intact as the kids make it off. Now it's just you and Logan. There's fear in his eyes as the cracking gets louder.

"We need to do the same thing Logan. It's going to be okay." The two of you get onto your stomachs and army crawl towards the edge. A student with super speed has already gone to get help thank goodness.

"Fuck." Logan panics as the ice starts to give way. You grab his hand as he starts to freeze.

"It's okay it's okay." You're close to the edge but not close enough.

You yelp as the ice breaks and both of you plunge into the water. You try to keep your grip onto Logan but he's sinking fast. The water is bringing back horrible, horrible memories as he struggles to breathe. Your head barely bobs above the surface as you see familiar faces running towards you.

Water fills your lungs as you scream when Logan's claws nick your arm. He plunges them into the dirt. Trying to pull himself up and out. Your body is becoming numb and every movement hurts. A pair of hands drag you out of the water. You cough violently as you grip onto the frozen grass. Trying to catch your breath. Logan's eyes are wide as he does the same.

"Are you okay?" You reach out to him but he snaps.

"Don't touch me!" He snarls and your heart plummets. His eyes are unfamiliar as his teeth bare like an animal. For the first time since you've met him he's angry with you. Really fucking angry.

"I'm sorry I..."

"I'm sorry Logan, I didn't mean to scratch your bike, I didn't mean to explode the fucking soup. Is that all you can say?!" He shoves off the people trying to help and stands up. His face cold and unforgiving as he looks down on your shivering body.

"You really are a fucking Jinx." You let out a sob as Logan walks away.

A fluffy blanket feels like ice against your skin as you're ushered back to the mansion. You hear Storm trying to talk to you but everything sounds like white noise. Your heart is stomped and crushed right in front of your eyes and you can't even blame him.

You're nothing but bad luck.

5. On a mission

There's no more accidents around the mansion anymore. Probably because you've locked yourself away since the ice skating incident. With the school on a break you didn't need to teach so all you did was stay in your room. Only leaving in the dead of night.

You just couldn't face the mansion anymore. You were embarrassed, upset, and heartbroken. Logan was supposed to be different. You wanted things to be different with him but apparently the universe decided you can have nothing good. It was only a matter of time before he saw the truth. His words repeat in your head over and over.

The anger, the fear. You caused that. Students and teachers alike would stop by your door but no one could get you out of your room. Sometimes you swear you hear the sound of his boots outside of your door. But he just stands there and then he leaves.

You can't cause any more problems if you stay here. Only issues for yourself and that's okay. Professor Xavier would pop into your head every now and then just to check up on you but this time what he needed was urgent.

The moment you walked through his office doors you could feel everyone's eyes on you. Especially a certain someone's who’s brooding in the corner of the room. Even with everyone here he's just overwhelming. You keep yours forward, not sparing a glance to him or to anyone.

"Thank you for joining us." Charles smiles warmly.

Apparently there's a mission and they need your help. Why they would send you out there you don't know. The targets had a fire mutant too and the best way to fight fire is with, well with more fire. The moment you stepped on the jet you could feel the nerves.

Everyone was worried something would go wrong with you around. Keeping your eyes glued to the ground you take a seat as far away from everyone as possible. Counting your fingers over and over as you wait to land. Someone makes there way over to you, their boots are oh so familiar.

"Hey." You look up to see Logan. He's holding onto the seat next to you for dear life.

"Don't worry I'm not gonna touch anything." You mumble as you try and somehow make yourself smaller.

"Listen I just wanted to talk." The plane jolts and Logan slams his fist against the wall. He freezes up again, fear creeping up onto his face. Just like on that frozen lake.

"We're hitting some turbulence. Logan you need to sit down." Scott commands.

Logan's lips turn into a growl but he sits down anyway. His hands clutching the armrests of the chair. Apart of you wants to go and comfort him but you would probably just make things worse. So you close your eyes and wait for it to be over. The turbulence calms and eventually the jet lands with everything and everyone unharmed.

The goal was to shutdown a group of mutant hunters and rescue their victims. The worst part was they had mutants on their side too. Good money you guessed. It shouldn't be too hard of a mission but knowing yourself anything could go wrong. You followed the team in, fighting with everything you had.

Logan had stuck by your side since you got here. Keeping his distance but always watching you. His super senses and metal claws made him their number one target. Suppress the Wolverine. They were no match for him though. But Logan's focus seemed to wane as they sent more people after him. A mutant who could make copies of himself did their best to confuse and take Logan down.

"Watch out!" You shout and Logan dodges another attack.

However you get shoved to the ground before you can say anything else. You send a blast of fire at your attacker but they wave it off. So this is the other mutant. The two of you become locked in combat. Fire meeting fire with no clear winner. It isn't until Jean’s voice shouts through your comms that you find the upper hand. They had found the kids and were bringing them back to the ship. It was a losing battle and you think the hunters were staring to realize that. Calling for a retreat.

You can't let them get away. If they get away then all of this is for nothing. They'll rebuild, they'll hurt more people. You notice a gas tank nearby by their vehicle. You were always good at making things explode. Usually on accident but fuck it, might as well try on purpose now.

"Get to safety and get out of here!" You run past the team as you chase after the retreating foes.

"Where the hell are you going?!" Logan calls as he helps a kid get onto the jet.

You ignore him, running as fast as you can. Just one big blast should get that thing exploding. God this was so stupid but its the only thing you can think of. You fucked up the door, you made a mess of the kitchen, you hurt Logan. All you do is ruin things. You're a Jinx and for once you can try and do something good. Even if it kills you.

As the car starts to drive past you channel all your power and launch it at the gas tank. For a second its like everything is in slow motion. You hear Logan roar, turning back only to see him running towards you. Suddenly everything gets really hot and then.

Nothing.

In the medbay

The first thing you feel when you can finally feel things again was how uncomfortable you were. An itchy blanket, itchy arms. Your back hurt and your head was killing you. When you opened your eyes all you see are the bandages wrapped around your arms and legs.

There were cards and flowers sitting on your bedside table and to your left was Logan. He's got his feet up on your bed and he was squished into a chair. His head bowed and his arms crossed. You try to sit up but start to wheeze. The heart monitor starts to beep wildly and Logan jolts awake.

"Sit back down." He pushes you back onto the bed and you try and breathe. After a little bit your heart rate steadies and Logan seems to calm down.

"What happened?" You ask and Logan clenches his jaw.

"You blew yourself up that's what fucking happened." Your memories were slowly getting pieced together.

"I blew up the gas tank. I wanted to stop them from escaping." You say as you recount what led you to the hospital bed.

"Well you stopped them and then almost killed yourself in the process. You had severe burns, a concussion, you were bleeding everywhere. I picked you up in my arms and you were coated in blood." He growls.

The words I'm sorry almost fall out of your mouth but you remember what Logan said that day on the lake. If you're being honest you aren't sorry either. You did what you thought you had to do.

"I'm a Jinx Logan. You said it yourself. I used my destruction to help this time." Logan winces when you remind him of his harsh words.

He wasn't in the right state of mind when he said them. Flashbacks of drowning, of the pain he went through. Being submerged in water and sinking were usually the scenes of his nightmares and for it to happen in real life. It was awful. But that doesn't change the fact he lashed out, he hurt you.

"I was wrong. I shouldn't have said that." Logan gently brushes the bandages on your arms. The scar from when he cut your arm in the lake peeks out from your bandages. He let his fear get the best of him in the water.

"I've hurt a lot of people, sometimes on purpose. Sometimes on accident.” His eyes never leaving your scar. “You’re not a Jinx. You’re perfect.”

"I still make a mess." Logan cups your face and studies a stitched up wound on your forehead.

God when that gas tank exploded. Even he was blown back by the force. He ran to your still body. Ash and pieces of metal were scattered across the field. You're lucky you didn't get fucking impaled. Your body was limp. Dirt and blood caked your face so much that he couldn't tell where you were hurt.

He carried you back to the jet, your blood staining his suit as he laid you down. He listened for your heartbeat for a second he swore it stopped. The longest second of his life as he waited to hear that soft beating.

"Why are you still here?" You just don't understand. How he can be sitting here after everything you've done. All the problems you caused.

"A little mess isn't gonna scare me sweetheart, I like your mess. I like you." He tilts your chin up and kisses you. You're taken by surprise but it's certainly welcome as your eyes flutter closed.

The heart rate monitor starts to beep faster as Logan leans over you. Your fingers rake through his hair as you pull him closer. Logan's grip tightens on the hospital bed railing. He's too lost in the taste of your lips to notice. You tug on his hair and his claws shoot out, cutting one of your IV wires.

A loud beeping blares through the room as Logan jumps back from you. You cover your mouth and laugh. Not even in your sweetest moments can you catch a break. Logan sheaths his claws and shakes his head in disbelief, joining in your laughter.

Jean rushes in with a panicked look on your face. It morphs into confusion when she sees the two of you laughing as your IV drips to the ground. She quickly fixes your IV and gives both of you a scolding for not letting anyone know you were awake.

"Keep your hands and claws to yourself. I'll be back later Jinx." She eyes Logan who puts his hands up. Smirking at you as she leaves.

"You know we could call you something else." Logan suggests. You think for a while before shaking your head.

"I think I like it." It reminds you of your faults yes but this has something that's followed you for the longest time.

You supposedly bring bad luck but you can try and counteract it every day by doing something nice. Plus maybe with Logan your luck might turn around. Maybe. As long as you steer clear of any lakes.

"Alright, but I think sweetheart has a nice ring to it." He says with a grin.

"Oh you want everyone to call me sweetheart?" You tease. Logan leans over and kisses you again.

"No. Only I get to call you that." Bad luck you may bring but Logan doesn't care.

You're a Jinx but you're his jinx and he loves every part of you. The good and the bad. So what's a little bad luck? If it means he gets to be yours then he'd happily be your lucky charm for the rest of your lives.

[blackbirdsblackberries]

I HATE THE NEW HERO

Pt 4: No luck today

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 (You're here) - Pt 5 - Pt 6 - Pt 7 - Pt 8 - Pt 9 - Pt 10

Engineering is probably one of your good subjects - mainly due to the grades you get and the equipment you get to create for your second life.

That being said, your luck isn't very high right now because just as you enter the classroom you're called up to the office. Over the loud speaker. In front of everyone.

This is your last straw. You're going to actually break down and cry.

Taking a deep breath you head to the office and stand in front of the receptionist.

"Uh, hi.. I was called up?" You state to the distracted receptionist. "Huh? Okay. Go into the principal's room I guess." She waves you off dismissively and you hold back a retort.

You make your way to the room and knock on the door. It opens with the principal on the other side. "Ah, There you are. I was worried you wouldn't show! Please, have a seat." He opens the door wide enough for you to get in.

You enter and your eyes fall onto a boy with spiky black hair and tanned skin. His back is to you. Next to him is a taller, more bulkier man in a pressed suit.

Your stomach lurches, feeling ill all of a sudden. Your senses go off and you fight the urge to run away. You can't tell who these people are but something isn't right.

Slowly you make your way to a third chair that was placed at the desk. You glance at the two males and have to swallow the bile - it was none other than Damian al Ghul-Wayne and Bruce Wayne. Your eyes immediately snap forward and you clench your fists slightly.

There's no doubt Tim had said something horrid about you to them, maybe he snitched on the fights you two had, whatever it was now you're in deep shit.

You try to get a read on them but it was near impossible, they were both stoic. It didn't help that you refuse to look at the two. The principal sits down at his desk and crosses his arms.

"So, I have been made aware of some things that you have done recently, (Reader). According to numerous anonymous reports you have cyber bullied someone, picked fights, had plans to build dangerous weapons and had hit animals... Listen, you're a good kid but with what I have here I might have to expel you."

Fuck. You can't get expelled your parents would throw you out or something! You can't! You didn't hit animals! The most you hit was a fly! Dangerous weapons? There's nothing like that at all, besides the plans for you superhero weapons. Those aren't dangerous though. You cyber bullied your vigilante persona to make it more realistic! You never pick fights - you don't want to risk hurting someone with your increased strength!

Though, something makes you freeze. If you were called here for that then why are the two Wayne's here?

You think the principal is a telepath because he speaks up.

"You're very lucky Bruce Wayne and his son are kind enough to vouch for you though they said they wanted a favor in return." Oh. Manipulation. You scrunch your eyebrows, they probably reported me alongside Tim. They're doing this so they can hold it above my head and make me complacent or subservient to them.

Maybe it'd be best if Aranea faked their death. Started a new identity or something... You probably wouldn't go through with it but it's a nice thought.

Well, you don't have much of a choice. You can still silently make your hate known towards the vigilante and it's not worth losing a scholarship over. Especially with parents like yours.

"... Fine... Thank you for this offer, Mr Wayne and Mr al Ghul-Wayne" you mutter. God it's shameful, you want to crawl into your skin and die. Was it worth putting your dignity on the line? You're not too sure. What you're sure of though is that you will get to eat tonight. If your family has the money...

Bruce nods his head in affirmation and puts on his Brucie smile, one that even you struggle to see past. "Of course, what kind of person would I be if I would overhear something so tragic and not do anything about it. We can go over the favor later." He states. You hold back a grimace though you're sure everyone can see the effort.

You don't know what to respond with, humiliated enough by this clear manipulation. You just give him a double thumbs up. Damian stares at you weirdly and the principal raises a brow. Bruce however chuckles, though it's forced.

The principal ushers you out of his office and tells you to wait out the front with the receptionist for Bruce and Damian while they chat some more with the principal himself.

After waiting for a bit the door opens and the two males walk down the hallway to where you are. Damian scowls and glares at you while Bruce looks to you blankly, detached.

You stand and awkwardly rub your hands on your uniform. Something they clearly don't miss as their eyes snap to the motion.

"uh, thank you for this opportunity... What's the favor?" You managed to work up the courage to speak without stuttering like a madman. Something you believed you should get a pat on the back for because the two guys were terrifying.

"The favor is simple really," Bruce starts his Brucie personality back in play "Stop speaking badly of Aranea and don't pick fights with my ward, Tim. Easy right?" You nod. You expected this. Honestly you should be a detective or something you think to yourself.

Nah, that's Batman's job.

You pick up your bag and head to the door, Bruce however had moved while you had seemingly zoned out while in thought and was standing in front of the door while talking to the receptionist and in your haste to leave you bumped into his side.

He automatically puts his arm on your shoulder to steady you and your mind connects the dots.

Bruce has the same build as Batman. Batman seemingly adores Aranea, or at least you think so, he's hard to read - like Bruce (for both being hard to read and adoring Aranea to a weird point). Same amount of kids. Plus Batman had to be rich if he could have a plane and a new looking suit after gruesome nights.

God, how did you not see this before...

Amidst your freaky reality check you fail to notice Bruce trying to get your attention until he snaps in your face - like how your dad does. You hate that.

Your head shoots up and you take a couple steps back while muttering an apology while Bruce stands there with a raised brow, confused while Damian looks at you with disdain as if you soiled a good outfit.

Feeling humiliated and terrified you quickly move around the two men and out of the door. You're in deep shit now... Even something as simple as secretly knowing the identities of the vigilantes that watch over Gotham is a death wish.

This is going to be the worst day of school, so, you decide to leave. You go to the sick bay and get a slip to leave school and you do.

You run home as fast as possible and get to your room. Your mother is out cold in her room with some man she met from the bar so you shouldn't have to worry about her.

You take a couple deep breaths and contemplate on what to do now that you left school, you could catch up on assignments, you could take a nap, or you could go on patrol...

It's daytime and you're pretty sure Signal will be patrolling today, you like Signal, he's a chill guy. Now though, now you don't really want to be near any of the vigilantes.

You decide to check your phone to see what area Signal is patrolling, it comes up in the GC, Westside Gotham at the Midtown area.

Okay. You can do East Park Side then. It's not your favorite area but at least you won't be confronted with one of the vigilantes so soon. Plus, the park is nice.

You suit up and head out. East Park side wasn't far away from you due to the lack of money your family has you are stuck in downtown.

You spend a majority of your time on patrol, helping people and just hanging around. Soon, much to your surprise, you get a call from Batman.

"Aranea. What are you doing patrolling without your comm on and without informing us?" He sounds as serious as ever, usually you'd roll your eyes but right now you're struck with fear. His voice holds maliciousness and anger deep under it. The very same way that Bruce Wayne had spoken to you. You don't want to admit it but knowing the identities of these heroes makes it more suffocating to be around them.

It also meant you had to be much more careful around them.

"Uh... I was bored at home so I went out on patrol?" You respond, trying to keep the energy in your voice, even if it felt like you were going to explode.

"That doesn't answer my question." He responds, you're sure he's picked up on the fakeness of your cheerfulness. "Right! Ha! Forgot about that. I didn't wanna disturb you all! Plussssss, Signal is patrolling so it's all good!" You laugh it off.

Batman isn't laughing. When does he ever?

"That's no reason to not inform us or at the very least turn on your comm. What if something happened to you? What if you died? You aren't invincible. You'll die in that stupid suit if you don't work with us!" You wince slightly. Fuck him. Does he really think you need him and the others to survive? Not to mention him calling your suit stupid, sure it's not perfect but stupid is just overkill. He only even thinks it's stupid because it isn't made with his money!

You honestly couldn't find the effort to continue talking to him, so with your faux cheerfulness you decide to end the call. "I get it. I'll know better next time! Bye bye!"

Sometimes you wish you were old enough to drink.

[itsnevercasual]

clarisse x reader where y/n had been noticing clarisse like getting distant( like not holding her hand for more then 4 seconds just small stuff that only y/n notices😭) and then the day percy breaks her spear she's mad and y/n trys calming her down but clarisse just yells at her about how clingy she is and to leave her alone and basically she regrets it and apologizes multiple times and after like a week y/n forgives her and it's cute (I NEEDDDD THE PLAYING HARD TO GET PLS I HATE WHEN SHE FORGIVES HER EASILY)

I Miss You, I'm Sorry

pairing: clarisse x apollo!reader

summary: clarisse is distant and cold, and y/n is officially done.

warnings: none?? i don't think?

-

you'd been with clarisse for around three years now. at first, a lot of people were confused. clarisse was, essentially, one big ball of anger, and you were a ball of sunshine. after a while, though, it made sense. you balanced each other out. plus, clarisse was a lot softer with you.

but recently, clarisse had been acting different. ever since percy jackson came to camp, actually. she was a lot more angry. and perhaps it was because you'd welcomed him to camp and generally tried to be nice to him. you couldn't help it, he reminded you of your brother, who had a mortal dad and stayed at home with your mom.

when you'd sneak to the ares table during meals, she'd hardly acknowledge you. when you tried to hold her hand, she'd let you, for all of six seconds. you weren't sure why. you hadn't done anything to personally anger her, had you?

you must have. because even as the two of you got ready for capture the flag, she ignored you.

"hey, claire?" you said, turning to her. you were just about the only one she let give her a nickname, and you'd settled on claire. "can you help me with my armor? i think it's crooked."

"you can do it yourself, i'm sure."

you frowned. she'd usually jump at the opportunity to help you- to touch you, to breathe the same air as you.

what did you do wrong?

you had one of your siblings fix it for you.

-

luke had outrun you with the flag when you heard a scream from the beach. you recognized it.

"clarisse!" you shouted, bolting towards the sound.

when you got there, you saw clarisse sitting before percy, her broken spear between them.

you ran to her side and helped her up as the other team began celebrating their win.

"claire, i am so sorry about your spear. we-- i can fix it! or i can have one of the athena kids do it! someone should know how, right? probably. yeah, we'll have them fix it, and it'll be-"

"can you just leave me alone?" clarisse snapped.

you froze. pulled your hands away, and retreated into yourself.

"oh," you said, clearing your throat.

"gods, you're just so clingy! i just need five minutes of peace."

"oh."

that's when she seemed to realize she hurt your feelings. she sighed, her face softening, "y/n-"

"i'm gonna go."

"i didn't mean it like that-"

"yeah. i'm sure you didn't."

you crossed your arms as you walked away, resisting the urge to cry.

-

DAY 1

during dinner that night, clarisse came up to the apollo table.

"y/n?" she asked.

you kept pushing the food around your plate, ignoring her.

"y/n." she repeated.

she sighed.

"i'm sorry, i didn't mean it-"

without saying anything, you stood up and walked off.

clarisse didn't follow.

-

DAY 2

you were sitting by the lake, your feet in the water. you heard someone come from behind, and you knew who it was.

you sighed.

“y/n..” she started.

“i’m not talking to you,” you stated. you crossed your arms and kicked your feet in the water.

“please, i’m sorry—“

“i don’t care. you really hurt my feelings, clarisse. you could’ve just told me you want space instead of acting like you hate me.”

“i don’t—“

“just go, clarisse.”

she sighed and didn’t fight you anymore.

-

DAY 5

clarisse had done what you asked for the past few days. she didn’t come up to you or try to apologize.

you were getting ready for bed, braiding your younger sister’s hair, when someone knocked on the cabin door.

assuming it was some late night check, you sighed.

“i’ll get it.”

you walked over to the door and opened it, and clarisse was standing there.

you didn’t even let her speak before you shut the door.

“who was that?” lee asked.

“no one,” you shrugged, sitting back on the bed and resuming the braids.

-

DAY 6

“why don’t you just talk to her?” percy asked you. you offered to help him train with the water as best as you could.

“because. i usually do, but she’s been rude to me for a few weeks now. i just wanna makes sure she knows i won’t put up with it.”

percy shrugged, “makes sense, i guess.”

even though you had a poker face around clarisse, it did make you sad every time you shut her down or pushed her away.

you just wanted your girlfriend back.

-

DAY 7

after dinner, you really just wanted to go to your cabin and sleep. however, when you opened the door, a bunch of candles were lit.

“what the—“

clarisse was standing next to your bed with a bouquet of flowers. they were your favorites— hibiscus. they didn’t grow anywhere near long island, so she must have gotten a demeter kid to get her some.

“i’m sorry, y/n. i shouldn’t have snapped at you. i just.. i’ve worked my whole life at camp to be recognized by my dad, and percy gets all this fame and glory in a few weeks. it’s not an excuse, but i just.. wanted to explain myself,” she said, extending the flowers toward you.

you kept your arms crossed.

“i want to be around you all the time. i didn’t mean to act like i don’t wanna be with you, because i do. i mean.. besides, who else is able to calm me down?”

and that made you laugh, “nobody,” you took the flowers. “thank you for the flowers. no one’s ever gotten me these.”

she shrugged, “i figured it was about time you got your favorite flowers.”

you smiled and quickly turned to her.

“so.. we’re good?”

“we’re good,” you nod and plant your lips on hers.

-

a/n: YAYAYAYAT FIRST CLARISSE IMAGINE / BLURB / DRABLE IDK THE CLASSIFICATION!!!!

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 15]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Words: 8.1k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

The first thing you process as you begin to come to is a slow, rhythmic beeping. It is dull and low and it almost carries you right back into the nothingness. You slip in and out of the fog a few times before your mind is able to catch a hold of conciseness. Even then, it feels like everything crawls by until your thoughts go from incoherent images to actual awareness. 

You feel awful - like you've been hit by a massive truck, who then backed up over you only to run you over again. Everything aches, but the worst of it is centered on the left side of your head, going down to your neck. It throbs and feels so stiff. You don't think you could move your head if you tried.

The second worst thing is how dry your mouth feels. It is as if someone stuffed you full of cotton to remove all the moisture from your body, then to make sure you were drained, dried you out under a heat lamp. It hurts to even try to swallow the little saliva your mouth is producing.

You need something to drink. 

Like some sort of miracle, something cold and wet is pressed to your lips. It startles you, but you react quickly. You force your lips to part and an ice chip is slipped between them. You suck on it desperately and it only takes a second for it to melt away, but almost instantly you are given another one. This happens two more times before your mouth finally doesn't feel like a desert. 

Your eyes are hard to open. They feel crusted shut and you don't know if you have the energy to try and pull them apart, but you try. It takes multiple attempts, but finally they open. Everything is far too bright and blurry.

Matt comes into focus above you, face wracked with concern. His hair is a mess and it looks like he hasn't slept in ages. His eyes, while sightless, are puffy and bloodshot and you wonder if he has been crying. Your brow knits in confusion and you try to reach for his cheeks to offer some sort of comfort. Your hand doesn't make it far off whatever you are laying on, but it doesn't matter because as soon as it is in the air, he's clasping his around yours. 

He breathes out your name just as you croak out his. 

Above you, he lets out the smallest breath of a laugh, like he is relieved, before moving even closer to you. He presses his forehead to yours and you let your eyes fall shut again - you're too tired to keep them open and you don't think he will mind the lack of eye contact.

“You scared me,” he whispers against you, before you feel his lips brush your cheek. 

You manage a confused noise, not understanding what is going on. Your throat burns as you attempt to talk, “what happened…?”

“You've got a pretty bad ear infection,” he tells you and you think that sounds about right. Everything hurts so much and you are far too warm. The cotton feeling in your mouth is also in your left ear, making it feel like half your head is dunked under water.

He is so close, his breath warms your still cool lips as he talks, “It hit you hard and fast - your fever got up to 104 and you wouldn't wake up. We had to bring you to the hospital, but you'll be okay now. Your fever has gone down a lot.”

The words float through you and it takes you a few seconds to grasp onto them and make them make sense. “We…?” You question because you don't know who ‘we’ could be. 

“Foggy and I,” he confirms. The hand not clutching your own cups your jaw and feels so cool and nice that you can't help but lean into it. He gives you another kiss, this time to the forehead, with his scruff lightly scratching against you. It tickles. 

You realize a name is missing and your heart starts to race. Matt hasn't mentioned your daughter and you start to panic. 

Where is she? Where's your baby?

“Minnie?” You ask, but to your non-stuffy ear, it sounds more like a whine.

He quickly starts to shush you, his thumb gently rubbing over your cheek, “it's okay, she's okay. She's safe. Foggy took her to go get some breakfast. She's okay. She's okay.”

His words do calm you, but your heart still pounds in your chest. You know Matt trusts Foggy, so to an extent, you do as well, but you want your daughter. You want to hold her and make sure she is truly alright. She must be so scared. 

You get another kiss to the forehead and it pulls you from your worried yet sluggish thoughts. You decide you like the feeling of Matt's beard against your skin. It's not something you're used to, and even if it is a little scratchy, it feels nice. It makes you feel warm but not like your supposed fever is making you feel warm. It's a good warm that wraps around your heart. It helps to soothe you - Matt would never allow your little one to be in any danger. 

“Try to get some rest, sweetheart. I'm not going anywhere - I'll be right here when you wake up, again. I swear,” he whispers into your hairline and you find yourself nodding into his palm. 

Sleep sounds good - you're tired and achy. Your eyes are so heavy you couldn't possibly open them again. You are slumping back down into your pillow before you know it, thoughts slowly buzzing back into nothing. 

The darkness takes you easily and you drift off without realizing Matt is practically clinging to you.

----

When you wake again, things make a little more sense. The hazy heavy fog is no longer covering your brain and you are more aware of what is happening around you before you open your eyes.

You can hear people walking around and talking outside your little room and everything smells disgustingly sterile. You can feel where IVs have been placed into your arm and the different monitors attached to your chest. You also know Matt is still clutching your hand and that motivates you to actually look around. 

Your head is tilted to the right, stretching out the stiffness on the other side, and centered in your view is Matt. He's asleep, head tilted down with his chin nearly to his collarbone. He looks so peaceful with his chest slowly rising and falling and someone has draped a thin blanket around his shoulders, only adding to his gentleness. You can't see it, but you're sure his knees must be bumping against the bed with how close he is to you. 

Your heart flutters in your chest. Had he stayed there this entire time? Has he let go of your hand at all? 

You remember when you were in the hospital to give birth. You had been so lonely - no one had been there to hold your hand or keep watch over you. No one had visited you - though you had received flowers from your work friends. 

Is this what it will be like now? 

You want that desperately - to feel like you matter to someone, for someone to care about you and your well-being, to feel like you aren't always alone. 

You squeeze his hand, and even though you feel absolutely horrible - hot and sweaty and like your head wants to fall off - you find yourself smiling at the sweet, handsome, lawyer who fathered your child. 

You are so happy you forced yourself to tell him the truth. 

You don't hear anything to your left but your heart rate monitor beeping, but your ear is also so clogged up not a lot of noise is getting through and you know it's throwing off your spatial awareness. It hurts to roll your head, but it eases your nerves to find you are alone with Matt in the exam room. However, you can't help the worry that bubbles in your stomach over the lack of your daughter. 

You know she must be with Foggy. The hospital is probably an incredibly unpleasant place for her - you hate being here because of the smells and atmosphere and that must be amplified for her. You can't imagine all the awful things she might hear here - the sick and dying and the surgeries. You are grateful for Matt's best friend. You will have to find a way to thank him properly. 

You force your gaze back to Matt and begin to slowly rub your thumb over his knuckles. He has so many scars there and you don't possibly know how he could have collected them all. He's told you before he practices boxing, but you don't think it is the bare knuckle kind. Maybe the punching bag can split skin - you have no idea about any of it beyond what you've seen in short viral videos. 

You have toyed with the idea of asking about going to the gym with him. You think it would be a fun experience for Minnie and you're curious how fit you actually are. Your workouts consist of chasing a toddler around - star jumps, push ups, and weights are no longer in your repertoire and you haven't properly gone on a run since high school. Plus, Minnie has recently learned what a cartwheel is and you are sure she will want to learn to do one and a gym is a safe place for that. 

You fall into a daydream about Matt teaching you and Mouse how to tumble, closing your eyes again as you do. You picture buying cute little leotards and watching your daughter perform a routine until there's movement under your hand. 

Matt squeezes your fingers, and you open your eyes just in time to see him blink awake. 

He gives you a sleepy smile, then with his free hand pulls his glasses out from somewhere under his blanket and puts them on. You watch him, taking in his crows feet before they disappear. 

“How are you feeling?” He asks as he shrugs the blanket off his shoulders.

You take a moment to consider the answer. You honestly feel horrible, but you don't feel as horrible as you previously did. There are aches and pains but you feel human again, as opposed to the concept of one. So you squeeze his hand and respond, “Better. I didn't…I didn't think I was that sick.” 

Matt hums and somehow scoots closer to the bed, then lifts your hand up to kiss the back of your hand. You feel your face heat up and your heart rate monitor beeps a little faster. “I'm glad, you gave us a good scare,” he says, keeping your hand against his lips. 

You have to remind yourself he's a very touchy person to keep your heart rate from increasing even more. To help with that, you drop your gaze to his chest - he's wearing a Columbia sweatshirt that is far too big on him and hides his lean frame. 

“What time is it?” His question throws you off at first, but then you realize there is a clock above the curtain entrance to the room. 

It takes you a second to process, which you blame on the illness and not the fact you haven't used an analog clock in ages, “Almost 1:30. I'm…guessing that it is PM. I can't really tell.”

Matt nods and you guess he can tell whether it is day or night. You hope it is day - you'd feel so guilty if you'd been in the hospital longer than a few hours.

Behind your hand, a small smile appears on his face, “Minnie and Foggy are on their way back up. I think she heard - oh. Okay, yes, she heard you talking. She says she has a present for you.”

Your heart pangs for your daughter. You don't want her to see you like this, but you desperately need her in your arms. You try to push yourself up, but you don't know if you have the energy to keep yourself sitting.

“Do you know how the bed works?” You ask and Matt shakes his head. He reaches out and feels along the railings, but by his frown, you guess he can't figure it out. You doubt any of the button labels are in Braille.

“Let me get the nurse.” 

He squeezes your hand once more before letting go. You tell yourself to ignore the strange feeling that envelopes you as he disappears behind the curtain separating you from everyone else. 

You don't want to be alone again. 

But you aren't - Matt is gone for barely thirty seconds before he's slipping back into the room, followed by a tired looking nurse. The woman comes up to your right side and you finally notice a little stand computer tucked by the bed. As she swipes her card key to unlock it, she looks at you, “How are you feeling?”

You decide to go with the same answer you gave Matt, “Better, ma’am.”

“Good, good,” she says as she types something. You go through the quick song and dance of confirming your name and birthdate, before she starts her questions, “Your pain on a scale of one to ten?” 

You have to think about that - your head hurts but not nearly as much as it did last night and your body feels sore and groggy. You bite your lip before estimating, “About a four..?” 

She adds that to your chart, “how about your ear? It should feel a bit clearer, you had a lot of fluid that drained out.”

That surprises you because you definitely do not remember that. You touch your ear and it feels far too warm and sensitive. You had no idea it was the problem, so you feel like you can't compare. 

“I don't know. Full? It…hurts. Like it's…sore on the inside?” you feel like an idiot trying to explain, but you have no idea about ear anatomy. 

The nurse hums, then turns to you, pulling a stethoscope out of her pocket, “I'm going to listen to your lungs. Take a deep breath.” 

You do as you are told as she places the device on your back to listen. You repeat this a few times with her until she's satisfied and she goes to enter her findings in the computer. 

“The doctor will be in shortly,” she tells you before leaning down to adjust your bed, so it can help you sit. You go from laying down to being propped up, “He will go over your discharge instructions.”

You're being discharged? You just woke up and haven't talked to anyone at all. The fact they are sending you away confuses you, “I'm being discharged?”

The nurse nods, not even looking at you as she locks the computer, “Yes. Do you feel you shouldn't be?”

You flush at the question and duck your head in shame. You know better than to question a doctor - if they think you should be discharged, you are fine. You force yourself to shrug and apologize, “No, I'm sorry, I just didn't expect it.”

The nurse simply gives you another hum before leaving to probably go tend to a patient that actually needs her. Almost instantly, Matt is back by your side, taking your hand. He kisses the meat of your thumb as he sits back in his chair.

“If you need to stay, you can stay,” he quietly advises.

You quickly shake your head, “No, it will be fine.” You huff a sad laugh, “It's not like I can afford this anyways.” You don't want to imagine the bill you are going to receive - being brought into the emergency room and given all kinds of medicine. You’ll have no more savings. 

“Don't worry about it,” he quickly tells you, a frown clear on his face. “Focus on getting better. Taking care of yourself. We can tackle the bill later - there's plenty of work arounds.”

Guilt pools in your belly - you don't need Matt worrying about your money problems. You force yourself to nod at his words, simply so he'll not try to comfort you over this issue. You think he must be on to what you are doing because he squeezes your hand and starts to say something, but quickly cuts himself off. You don't understand why until a few moments later - the curtain closing off your room is pushed aside and Minnie barrels in, closely followed by Foggy. 

You barely look at the blonde, instead pulling away from Matt to throw open your arms for your baby. The speed in which she manages to scale Matt and jump to you is impressive and you hug her to you like you're trying to absorb her. Your arm screams at you due to the fact you're trying to bend where your IVs are, but you don't care - and you don't care if your little angel is nearly strangling you with how tight she's hugging you. 

“Don't ever get sick again!” She whines into your neck and you nod against her. You'll never get sick again - what you put her through for being sick will forever live in your mind.

“I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry, I didn't know I was sick.” 

“It was scary!” 

That absolutely breaks your heart and tears start to fall. 

“I'm so sorry, Minnie,” you choke out as you try to hold her impossibly closer. The guilt you had regarding money transforms into guilt over being sick at all. How dare you put Minnie through this? You should have realized something was wrong. You repeatedly apologize into her hair, trying to keep yourself from sobbing while she clings to you.

You feel the bed dip and then Matt is pulling you both against his chest and pressing his lips to your crown, “Shhh, it's okay. It's okay.”

You try to shake your head because none of this is okay. You scared and upset your daughter and you've got a stupid ear infection that is going to bankrupt you. Nothing is okay. 

“Do you want to show your Mommy what you got her to make her feel better?” Foggy asks Minnie after a minute of you being hysterical and shame courses through you as you are reminded someone else is there, watching you breakdown. 

You are such a fucking mess. 

However, Minnie pulls away from being squashed between you and Matt and jumps off the bed to go to the blonde. You finally notice, through teary tired eyes, that he has a decently sized gift bag. He sets it down on the ground and Mouse has to pick it up by its sides because it's too tall for her to hold by the handles. 

As she tries to figure out how to get back on the bed, you realize Matt is still wrapped around you and you decide you are too tired to fight with your anxiety and guilt any longer. You want his comfort - so you lean more into his arms and he responds by nuzzling you. He begins running his hands over your arms and somehow, it begins to soothe away your upset.

You miss whatever exchange your daughter and Foggy have, but he lifts her up and places her and the gift bag on the bed and she hauls it over to you. 

“We got you a present to get better,” she tells you and you know whatever it is, you'll cherish it. 

There's no tissue blocking your view and you see something pink and white checkered that looks very soft. Before you can move to pull it out, Matt intervenes. He takes your wrist and gently stretches out your arm that has the IV in it, humming against you, “You have to keep your arm straight.” 

You flush at the reminder, feeling like a complete idiot, and use only one hand to pull out the gift. 

It is a massive blanket and it is so so soft. You want to bury yourself in it.

“Oh, Mouse, this will make me feel better. Thank you so so much,” you say as you reach out with your good arm to hug her again. She wastes no time tucking herself back between you and Matt.

“Blankies make everything better,” she advises wisely, “Froggy said so.” 

You can't help but smile at that and hold your daughter even closer. You turn your attention to Foggy, who has just been an absolute saint for watching over your daughter, “Thank you so much, Foggy. For everything. I can't thank you enough.”

He scoffs and waves his hand, “it is my pleasure. This wasn't my first late night Murdock call, it won't be my last, and she is at least a pleasure to be around at three in the morning.”

You want to ask how they even knew you were sick, but you also don't want to know the details. You can only guess Minnie somehow called Matt and you aren't in a place to hear that conversation. The guilt and emotions would overwhelm you even more than you already are and you are so so tired of crying. So you hug your daughter even closer, so she's in your lap, and mumble another thank you. 

Foggy takes a seat in one of the visitor chairs and asks, “has the doctor come yet to talk to you?” You very much appreciate his concern, but most importantly, his tact. You don't feel like he's judging or lying to you. He seems genuinely concerned.

You try to not shake your head at his question, since Matt is still holding you and it would just hurt your head more, and reply “Just the nurse. She said I'm getting discharged.” 

The blonde huffs, leaning back in his seat to cross his arms, “Wow, they really do just turn and burn. Last time I was here, they pushed me through, too. American health care, right?” You hum in agreement - the health care system in America is very bad. 

Foggy dives into a story about being in the hospital when he was a kid. It quickly catches Minnie’s attention and you realize this may be more for her benefit than anyone else's. You try to listen, but instead find yourself resting your head on Matt's shoulder and closing your eyes again. 

You’ll just stay like this, your daughter in your lap and her father holding you against him, until the doctor comes. 

If he takes his time getting to you, you don't think anyone is going to complain. 

---

It takes another three hours for you to be fully discharged. You have to fill out a mass of paperwork before the doctor even speaks to you, but after he does, no time is wasted to clear you out of the needed exam room. 

Any concerns you have about getting home are moot, as Foggy has everything covered. He has borrowed his girlfriend's car and procured a child's seat from his parents - who apparently have multiple due to their ‘hoard of grandchildren’. Minnie doesn't fuss at all, focused on being the best helper she can be by carrying your purse, which had apparently been brought in with you. Matt is insistent on helping you walk, which you are grateful for - standing makes you very dizzy and you have to focus to not stumble. 

To your great surprise, Karen is waiting outside your building as Foggy pulls the car up. She's carrying a few shopping bags, and beside her is a grumpy looking man you vaguely recognize holding a very old fashion looking crockpot. It has an orange vintage flower pattern and you kind of want it. 

No one says anything as you all climb out of the vehicle. Matt quickly gets himself under your shoulder and his arm around your waist while Minnie latches herself to your hand. You don't know if she thinks she's helping or if she's obeying your rule of hand-holding when outside. 

You all awkwardly stand on the sidewalk and you watch as Foggy and the new man have a staring contest. You have no idea what is going on and kind of don't care, as you want to get up to your apartment. After a full minute, Foggy points to the man and declares, “you aren't coming to Thanksgiving,” before marching towards the door to the building. Matt, and thus you, follows after him and as you pass Karen, she snorts with laughter. She and the man fall in line behind you as you make your way to the stairs. 

You just know that if you allowed him, Matt would pick you up and carry you up the three flights of stairs, but you refuse to let it happen. You are dizzy and far too warm, but also very stubborn and you determinedly take each step at a time, refusing to stop until you're on your floor. Only then do you resume leaning into his hold. 

Foggy unlocks your door then ushers you all inside. Minnie lets go of your hand almost instantly, drops your purse, and runs to the bedroom. You guess she is going to grab Pig and Scooby to update them on everything. You make your way to your couch as Karen sets the groceries on the table and her grumpy friend finds a spot on the counter to plug in the crockpot. 

As she unpacks, Karen narrates, “Okay, so I got you all the essentials - Gatorade, tea, saltines, ibuprofen, a compress, and I got you life savers to suck on because that helps when you want something to sweet but don't want to eat anything. I picked up your medicine, it's just ear drops. And of course, the most important thing,” you turn on the couch just in time to see her motion towards your kitchen, “Nelson Family Chicken Soup.”

You stare at the blonde with wide eyes and you feel like you are going to start crying again. No one has ever done this much for you before - not even your ex-boyfriends. Your last one wouldn't even pick up tampons for you, but Karen has clearly gone out of her way and you've only met her a handful of times. You have no idea how to thank her and Foggy for everything they have done for you. You are going to have to bake them a cake or something. As for Matt, you know you are never going to be able to repay him for the comfort and care he has given you in the last few hours.

You are so overwhelmed with love for this little group of friends who are letting you into their life. 

“Thank you so much,” you say, meaning it with all of your heart, “you didn't have to do all of that. Thank you.”

Karen gives you a warm smile before waving you off, “Don't mention it. You'd do the same for any of us.”

You happily would and plan to take notes of what Karen bought, just in case. However, the soup is something that confuses you. Did Matt's best friend bring Minnie to his house to cook? You turn to Foggy, who is examining Minnie’s toy chest, and ask, “You made soup?”

The blonde man looks up with a laugh, “God, no, you don't want me cooking. That was all my mom. Her soup is a cure all.”

“It is,” Matt vouches from beside you. “It can cure almost anything. It got rid of my flu last year.”

“It saved countless Christmases,” Foggy adds.

“It also stops cramps,” Karen confirms. 

You look to the man in the kitchen for his approval and he just shrugs, “Haven't had it, but it smells good.”

You have to cover your face at that point because it is all too much. Foggy's mother made you soup? How did she even know you were sick? Why did she do this for you - someone she's never met? Someone she has no connection to at all? 

An arm wraps around your shoulder and you are pulled to lean against Matt. He nuzzles against you and whispers, “you aren't alone anymore. We're all here for you.” 

You hide yourself against him and he starts to rub your back in a comforting manner. This is far too much for you. You don't know how to process all of it.

Luckily, a distraction from your patheticness comes in the form of your daughter. 

You hear her come back into the living room and boldly ask the strange man in your kitchen, “Who are you?”

You try to listen since you are curious and you can feel that Matt has turned his head to pay attention to his daughter. You stay tucked against his shoulder, wishing you had your new big blanket to wrap yourself in.

“My name's Frank, what's yours, little lady?” The man says and you try to commit the name to memory. You wonder if he is Karen's boyfriend or something - you don't think he's been mentioned before. 

“Minnie!” She declares, then, “This is Pig and Scooby. They like soup, too!” You guess she's held up her toys for him to see. She must be less nervous of the man since he is in your home.

There's a round of chuckles before Frank speaks again, “That right? How about we leave it to your Daddy to get you and your friends some soup and we let your Mommy get some rest?”

There's a few beats of silence before you hear Minnie again, “Okay. Bye-bye, Mister Frank.” 

The man barks with laughter, which barely covers the pitter-patter of feet coming towards you, “Daddy, can we have soup for dinner, I'm hungry.” 

“Of course, princess, I'll make you a bowl.” 

The others must take that as a cue, because when you lift your head up, the three other adults are making their way back to your front door. 

Karen lightly calls out your name to get your attention, and when she sees you looking at her, offers a soft smile, “Feel better soon, and let us know if you need anything.”

“Anything at all,” Foggy adds, “I'm more than happy to play babysitter. Parks are my specialty if the squirt needs to get out all that Murdock energy.”

“I'm not a squirt!” Mouse huffs and you can picture her puffing up her cheeks. 

“I don't know, kid, you look like a squirt to me,” Frank tells her and she lets out a long ‘nooooo’ in response. 

You smile against Matt at the little exchange - you can tell your daughter is extremely fond of Foggy and that makes your heart rest easy. She's never been so vocal around other adults before. 

“Thank you, so much. I really, really mean it,” you tell the people who have come to your rescue. 

“It is really not a problem, you're family, now,” Foggy tells you before directing himself towards Minnie, “Okay, squirt, can I get a high five?” The sound of a toddler running followed by a slap tells you she just did that. “Good girl! Now, help your Dad take care of your Mom and call me if he gives you any trouble, got it?”

“Got it, Froggy!” 

Goodbyes are exchanged then it is just your little family left in your apartment. You finally allow yourself to pull away from Matt.

“You don't need to stay.”

His response is to raise his eyebrows at you, “You think I'm going to leave you alone while you're sick? You need to rest. I’ll take care of everything else. Minnie can finally show me her Scooby movie.”

You want to tell him ‘no’, that you have it handled and he should go get his own rest, but you know it's fruitless. You're learning Matt is committed to his role of being a father and there will be no way to convince him to go. He's a lawyer - he probably already has fifteen arguments ready for why he should stay. 

So you give in and give a small nod, “Okay…” 

He breaks into a big grin, like he expected you to push back and is happy you didn't, “Good. Are you feeling up to some soup?” 

Your stomach turns at the idea of eating anything. You’d been given IV fluids at the hospital and managed a cup of water, but you do not want to eat. There is nothing actually wrong with your stomach - everything is centered on your ear - but that doesn't change the fact you'll probably not be able to keep anything down. 

“No,” you tell him after a moment, then add, “I think I'm going to shower and go to bed.”

“Okay,” he hums, reaching up and oh so gently petting your cheek with the back of his fingers and making a shiver run up your spine, “Let me know if you need anything. You don't need to get up, if you just say anything, I'll hear it, okay?”

You don't like the idea of him being able to hear your sick gross body, but there is nothing you can do about it. You slowly push yourself up, careful to not get too dizzy, then start towards your bedroom. Behind you, Matt starts talking about soup and Scooby with Minnie. 

Once you are alone in your room with the door closed, you break down. You sit on your bed, hide your face in a pillow, and just let out all of your tears. All your frustration, your shame, your guilt, your confusion, your tiredness, and your pain pours out of you. Your shoulders shake as you bite into the pillow to try and hide your sobs and you pray Matt realizes you need to be alone right now and distracts Minnie. You just need to get all of this out of you. 

Your body is so exhausted you can only cry for a few minutes before you are completely drained. You feel slightly better emotionally, but your head is throbbing even more. 

You desperately want to get clean and curl up now. You weakly toss your pillow back on the bed and force yourself up to gather something clean to change into. You place the new garments of the dresser, before going to the closet and pulling out a new sheet for your bed. You know you don't have the energy to strip it, but you don't want to sleep on your own filth. So, you push your blanket off, then lay the clean sheet over the dirty one. 

Satisfied with your meager attempt, you grab your clothes, open the bedroom door, and shuffle to the bathroom. 

You look like absolute shit and don't need your mirror to tell you that, so you try to not look at it. To help, you grab a towel and maneuver it to hang over your medicine box, then strip out of your soiled clothing. 

You let your body go on autopilot to start the shower and as you wait for it to heat up, you wash your face and brush your teeth. That alone makes you feel cleaner. You take your hair out of its ponytail - you washed it on Saturday, so you aren't going to rewash it, but you'd like to wet your skull to remove some sweat. 

You kick your dirty clothes into a corner, then check the spray. It feels nice and hot, but not scalding, and you step in. 

Almost immediately, your vision goes spotty and it feels like your brain is floating in ice water. You have to reach out with both hands and lean on the wall so you don't tumble over and you shuffle to it to press your forehead to the cool tile. 

Maybe a shower wasn't such a good idea after all, but you feel so sweaty and sticky and gross. If you just stand and let the water wash over you, maybe it will help and you won't have to let go of the wall. Or you can just sit on the floor, but with how you are feeling that runs the risk of you not being able to get back up. 

A knock on the door startles you and you have to push more against the tile to keep yourself upright. 

You close your eyes tightly. 

You think it must be Minnie. She's come to go potty when you've been in the shower before and you don't think she went before you left the hospital. You take a deep breath and center yourself before calling out, “Come in.”

The door opens and closes and the voice that speaks isn't Minnie.

“Are you okay?”

You shake your head because you are very much not okay in any sense of the word. You don't know how to put that into words or even if you want to. You don't want to go on the emotional rollercoaster again - you're so tired. You just want to get clean and go back to sleep.

You don't mean to space out, but you do. There's just so much going on and your body decides to only focus on remaining upright. So when hands smooth over your waist, you nearly scream. You know it's Matt, but it still scares you. 

Why is he in the shower with you? 

You try to turn around to question him, but his hands tighten around you, keeping you in place. 

“Let me help you.”

The words shake your core. Your heart begins to pound in your chest and you know, if you had any tears left in you, they would be falling. Why is he doing this? Why is he here, asking to help you? Why is he pushing for it?

You feel him step even closer to you and his chest brushes against your back. He breathes your name into your ear, then repeats, “Let me help you, please.”

You try to shake your head and choke out, “You should be with Minnie.” Minnie needs him, she needs his help, not you. He is here to help watch over her, he even said so himself.

His nose bumps against your ear and you feel like your knees are going to give out. Why is he doing this?

“She's trying to give soup to her toys and watching her shows. She doesn't need me right now. You do. Let me help you.”

You push your hands firmer against the tile to keep your balance. 

Matt has been with you all day, holding your hand and keeping you upright until you left his arms to go take a shower. You haven't asked this of him - he's been with you of his own free will. He's been so gentle with you, so caring, so comforting. 

His hands move from your waist around to your stomach and slowly up to your sternum and very gently pulls you flush against his chest. He feels so firm, so steady, holding you up. 

Do you really want to push him away? Do you really want to send him back to watch Minnie? 

You can barely keep yourself standing. You're so dizzy. It feels like at any moment your body is going to give out and you'll collapse.

It feels nice to be held. 

It feels nice that he is here for you, for whatever motivation he has. 

You think of your daughter. How scary this must be for her and how terrifying it would be for her if you fainted in the shower after everything that has happened. 

That must be why Matt is here with you. He's far more in tune with your body and you know that means Minnie is too.

He's trying to keep her safe by keeping you safe. 

You need to think of Minnie, not yourself.

Matt whispers your name again and you drop your hand from the tile and place it over Matt's.

“Okay…” you whisper. “Okay.”

Lips brush your shoulder and his hands move to be at your ribs and there's a gentle pressure, silently asking you to turn. You take a steadying breath and start to rotate, slow as can be. 

You can't look at him in the face. Despite everything, shame burns deep inside of you. You've always been able to do things yourself - you've always had to. Even if it feels good to have the help, to know Matt is going to catch you if you fall, the voice that lives inside you hisses that you're being weak. Pathetic. 

You force your eyes open and the first thing you see are the scars going across his chest. 

He has been through so much you don't even know about, just like you have been through things you haven't told him about, and to make this work, to make raising your daughter work, you have to trust each other. You have to trust Matt and he needs to trust you. 

You slowly reach up and place your hand half over the scar on his right pec, then, to prove to yourself that you mean the beliefs in your head, you lean in and press your lips to the other side of the scar. 

He inhales sharply and you feel like, for some reason, you made the right move. 

Neither of you move for a minute, then Matt gently presses against you and guides you back into the spray of the shower. 

It feels so good against your hot sticky skin and you find yourself letting yourself lean more into Matt and you give in to your desires and let your head fall against his shoulder, closing your eyes as you do.

You feel him reach behind you to the shower caddy and you are happy you have been using bar soap, so you don't have to explain what is what to Matt. He lathers up his hands, then begins to wash you. He starts with your back and you decide to just zone out. You can't debate anymore, you can't let your mind go crazy - you're too tired, too sick to deal with much more. 

Matt's hands slowly work over your back and sides. They dip down to your bottom and even though he's touching somewhere intimate, it doesn't feel lewd. 

After your back has been washed, he tilts his head just slightly and his nose brushes the shell of your ear and he breathes into it, “turn around so I can get your front.” 

It takes a few moments, but you do as you are told, and then you are leaning back against Matt's chest, head once again resting on his shoulder, just the opposite one this time. Your nose is a hair's breadth away from his jaw. 

He relathers his hands, then starts on your stomach. He's so methodical about it and it feels almost hedonistic. You're not going to deny it feels good, but you know it's not in any way sexual or wanting. You just haven't been touched in so long, so anything will feel good. 

He avoids your nipples when he runs his hands over and under your breasts and he doesn't linger, moving up to your shoulders, then down your arms. When he gets to your hands, he laces your fingers together. 

“Do you want your hair done?” He quietly asks and you just barely shake your head.

“Just want to get it wet,” you mumble into his throat. 

He hums in response and squeezes your hands, “‘m gonna need to turn you around again to do that and to get your legs.” 

He keeps your hands in his and, to your great surprise, turns you slowly around like you are dancing, one arm over your head and another around your back. When you're facing the right way again, you open your eyes to see Matt smiling at you with the softest look. 

In your chest, your heart clenches. 

No one has ever looked at you like that before. No one. No one has ever treated you the way he has. 

You don't think you care if it is because you are the mother of his child. Matt is a truly good and loving person and you want to bask in it, at least for now. 

You let go of one of his hands and cup his jaw. He presses into it, closing his eyes and it's like you can feel any tension he might have in him melt away. You stay like that for a few seconds before he turns his head just slightly to nuzzle into your palm, then he lets go of you to drag his fingers through your hair. He makes sure to get your roots wet, but doesn't soak your hair. His nails dig slightly into your scalp and you try to not moan at how nice it feels.

“Hold onto my shoulders,”  he directs you and you do as you are told. Only when you have a secure hold on him does he kneel down and begin to run his hands over your legs. He starts high on one thigh and works his way down to your foot, then repeats the process on the opposite leg. 

You can't help but look down at him, watching as he delicately washes you. There's this deep urge in your belly, right above your core, to tangle your hands into his hair. A memory from your night together, all those years ago, flashes through your mind. 

He had backed you against a wall and gotten on his knees to push your dress up and your panties down. Your thigh had been draped over his shoulder and he had eaten you out like a starving man before taking you to bed and making you cum two more times on his tongue. 

You quickly banish the thoughts because not only do you know it's not the time for that, but that it was a one night stand between strangers. You don't want to make things any more awkward by Matt realizing he's having such an effect on your body, even if you don't intend for it. 

You tell yourself to think of the pajamas you've picked out to wear instead - a nice, soft, baggy shirt and your favorite biker shorts. You picture the amazing blanket your daughter got you and how nice it will be to curl up in it and sleep. 

You want that more than anything right now. You want to just sleep. 

You focus on that until Matt is back in front of you and turning off the water. 

“All done,” he whispers and you repeat the words back to him. 

He helps you out of the shower and gets you wrapped in a towel before starting to dry himself off. You don't allow yourself to admire his body and focus on getting the water droplets off of your body and out of your hair. 

Once you are no longer dripping, you bundle your hair back into a ponytail and pull on your clean clothes. 

The little change makes you feel so much better.  You always forget how just being clean can change your mood so drastically. 

“Thank you,” you whisper once you are dressed. “Thank you so much, Matt.” 

You turn to finally look at him, and he has redressed in just his boxers and oversized sweater. He steps towards you and cups your jaw, smoothing his thumb over your cheeks, “You don't have to thank me. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you. You just have to let me in, okay? Please let me in.”

You close your eyes at his words and nod. 

You can't promise you will let him in fully, but after everything he's shown you in such a short time, you think you can try. You can try to let Matt in. 

“Okay.” 

He lets you go with a small, sweet, and soft smile then cocks his head slightly to the right, “Let's get you to bed, I think someone has decided they want to join you for a nap.”

Joy swells in your heart and belly at the idea of cuddling with your daughter. You want to wrap her up and hold her and let her feel loved and protected. You know now how nice it is and words tumble from your lips without you meaning them to, “you should come too.”

His eyes go wide at the offer before that small sweet smile morphs into a boyish grin, “I would like that. I would like that a lot.”

--

a/n: Matt would not stop smooching. I could not hold him back from smooching.

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[springseasonie]

Auralism Pt4 | PJS + ZCL (M)

Jisung x reader x Chenle

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Summary: Immediately after your interesting introduction to your long time favorite voice actor, you walk to the back of your place of employment and see someone you weren't expecting.

Warming: sexual content, dom Jisung, sub Chenle, switch-ish reader, voyeurism, a little gay tension ???

Word count: 4,8k

A/N: had to write this like 3 times to finish it then I deleted it immediately after finishing on accident but then we got the doc back 🎉🎉 trials and tribulations my friends but it's finally done!! Very sorry for making promises I couldn't keep but I hope you all like it

Something told you to check the back room for your charger but you didn't expect to see the man you just said bye to 5 minutes ago with his dick in his hands. It's like time froze, the way you and Chenle stared at each other in that room. His eyes wide and your hand gripping the door knob. It was like a silent war being fought. Who would say something first, who would make the first move. Chenle glanced at your feet while watching you stare at the cameras. There was one pointing directly at the back of the counter like always.

It shouldn't have taken you this long to put two and two together, but it did and now alarms are going good in your head. You turned your head, looking away from him for a split second, but in that second, Chenle stood up and grabbed you. Your body instantly froze, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as the door slammed behind you, leaving you in the room with him.

“I know this looks bad but-”

“Looks bad,” you said, brows scrunched in confusion. “Your dick is out.”

Chenle looked down, realizing he was still in a very compromising position. Quickly, he turned and fixed himself, face as pale as ever. He's ever been so embarrassed in his life. Chenle wouldn't say he's the best at bidding his perverted thoughts, but he does a damn good job. But this time, he has no idea how he let himself slip up.

“Were you watching me?” You already knew the answer to the question, mouth becoming dry with each second that passed.

Chenle turned around, empty eyes staring at your bizzare expression. He wanted to say something badly, but he couldn't help himself but let his mind wander under your gaze of scrutiny. The fiery look in your eyes made him hot, the anger in your voice made him sweat.

“I-I was,” he admitted.

You gulped, taking deep breaths to try and stop yourself from becoming angrier than you already were. You never took him to be that kind of person but looks can clearly be deceiving. You and Chenle have always kept things on a very normal note, friendly conversation and brief contact outside of work, so to you, all of this was completely left field. But to him, he would think about it all the time. Chenle is good at hiding his feelings. He can keep it cordial with you if need be, playing the character of the nice reliable male coworker. But once he's clocked out, all he can think of is your pretty lips, the leggings you wear to work, the way you talk. He's obsessed with you and there's only one way to get you off his mind.

“That's a really fucked up thing to do,” you said, voice raising a bit. “That's a creep thing to do. You're a fucking creep.” For a moment, Jisung's presence in the building was completely forgotten. The only thing you could do is focus on your anger, trying to bite your tongue in the best way possible. A shiver shot up your spine watching him stare at your lips, the frown on your mouth not deterring him from his sinful thoughts. For some reason you kind of liked it.

“I'm really sorry,” he said. “I just…I don't know.”

“You're joking right? Instead of actually talking to me you watch me like a fucking weirdo.”

Your words travel right to his dick, degrading giving him a sense of gratification. The annoyance and anger you have for the current situation blinds the clear lustful expression on the man's face. Chenle can't speak knowing he has absolutely no rebuttal to anything you're saying, nodding at every word that comes out of your mouth.

“Fucking sick perverted freak,” you groan, reaching for your jacket and bag. You picked it up swiftly, leaving Chenle to stare at you with longing in his eyes.

Opening the door, you stared at your feet, not seeing the figure that stood in front of you, walking right into him.

“Did I scare you?” Jisung's deep voice snapped your chin up, looking at him with wide eyes after completely forgetting about him. Chenle stood and watched, a hint of jealousy starting to brew in him but also curiosity. He watched you fuck him on camera but would it be different in front of him? Would you be more shy and timid or would you turn it up a notch? Chenle wouldn't describe himself as a voyeur, but he's tempted to take on that label full time.

Jisung is an attractive guy, tall, deep voice, nice lips. Of course you're into him, he's practically perfect. Chenle doesn't think he's inferior to him, just a little different. Regardless, you're still attracted to him so it doesn't matter who you have sex with, he'll still have a chance.

“I'm sorry I forgot you were out there,” you said in a panic, only for Jisung to shrug his shoulders.

“Well I see that,” he says. He looks up from you, facing the man who stood across the room. “And who is this?”

Jisung eyes him closely, eyes moving up and down to size him up. You look at him nervously, gulping at the unwanted interaction. You didn't want this to end your chances of ever seeing him again, wanting for Chenle to go home as quickly as possible. But every time you looked at him he was hoping he didn't have to leave. He stood there silent as he allowed his hard on to grow more and more slowly. Was he thinking about fucking you and Jisung watches or the other around? Or was he thinking about Jisung and himself fucking you at the same time?

“Chenle.” You answer. “He was…”

“Watching us?” Jisung looks at you, brow raised when your brows furrow.

“I-I was not-”

“Don't lie,” Jisung said. Deep voice filled the room. “you're a creep.” Chenle watched Jisung sneak his hand around your waist, pulling you to his body. He pressed your hips against his groin, burying his face in your neck. A smirk slid across his face watching Chenle’s eyes widen at the sight, staring at Jisung's hands sliding down your hips and between your legs.

Chenle takes the scene in, your small gasp tickling his ears as he watches the man rub you between your leggings. He can feel the blood moving right to his dick making it harder and harder. He watches Jisung take his other hand off your hip and place it on your neck, holding your jaw firmly.

“Look at him Y/N, he looks like he's gonna explode,” Jisung says in your ear.

You look at Chenle whose cheeks are like tomatoes. Mouth slightly open, lips dry as he watches you get felt up steps away from him. He wants to touch you too, to feel you, hear you. You were beginning to enjoy this, Jisung touching you like he owned you and Chenle being forced to watch like a sad puppy. Jisung rubbed your clothes clit, smirking as you let out soft moans. 

“You're so pretty. Right Chenle? Isn't she pretty?” 

He gulped, breath hitching when the younger male suddenly turned his attention to him. “Y-yes of course.” 

“Prove it.” 

Chenle gave him a blank stare. “W-what?” 

“Show her how pretty you think she is.”

Chenle watches Jisung reach into your pants, your hands wrapped around his wrist as he begins to toy with your body, moans pouring from your lips. Mindlessly, Chenle's hands reach into his own as well, wrapping his palm around his cock, pumping it slowly.

“Fuck,” you whine softly, pushing your body against Jisung's hand more. Your eyes were closed, but there was no doubt Chenle's eyes were on you. Jisung kissed your forehead, circling his fingers in your soaked cunt while you grind, a scene that played in Chenle's mind for a long time. 

The male across the room kept pumping himself as slow as possible, not wanting to cum too fast from watching you. “Shit,” he mumbled.

“Tell her what you like about her,” Jisung ordered, blinking slowly at the man in front of him. 

“I..uh..” he could barely think straight. All he could think about was pushing the guy away and taking you right there. Feeling your tight pretty pussy around him, making you scream his name. “I like her eyes..”

Jisung scoffed, his gaze on you permanent as he slowly pushed two fingers into your wet hole. 

“J-Jisung, fuck,” you whines softly, knees feeling like jelly when he begins to move them in you. 

“I know baby, I know,” he mumbles. 

Chenle hadn't realized how fast he was pulling himself, hand constantly moving like it had a mind of its own. His heavy breathing was heard all over the room, so much so it caught your attention. You opened your eyes, staring right at him. His flushed cheeks, furrowed brows, pretty lips. You're loving this more and more as the seconds go by, wanting to torture him a little bit more. 

“Her eyes can't be the only thing you like.” 

Chenle opens his mouth, but can barely focus with the way you're grinding on Jisung's fingers, desperate for more as you maintain eye contact with him. “I-I like her lips. The way she says my name. I like her..fuck..her nice ass..” 

Your lips curve into a smirk hearing him speak, begging him to keep speaking. 

“Prettiest voice, prettiest moans..” 

Chenle is breathless at this point, mouth dry watching you bite your lip, furrowing your brows at the combination of Jisung's fingers and Chenle's praise. The sweat glistening on your forehead under the dim lighting made you even prettier. The boy's soft pants were turning into moans, hand quickly pumping himself as Jisung speeds up his fingers inside of you.

“Ji, oh fuck,” you whimpered, legs clamping around his hand.

“Gonna come for me, hm? Cum all over yourself like a dirty little slut?” 

He watches you, lips between his teeth as you nod fast, not daring to tear your eyes from him. His fingers continue pounding into your sloppy wet hole, the sound of your pussy filling the room. Your eyes roll back, pressure building in your stomach faster and faster. Your walls are getting tighter and tighter around his fingers, mouth open as you moan over and over again. 

“I-Im cumming, fuck Jisung,” you moan, head falling on his shoulder, body shaking at the feeling. Your cream all over his hand, hips pushing on his fingers more and more as you reached your high. 

The both of you completely forgot about the other body across the room, lost in each other's touch and feeling. Chenle didn't even realize he came until he removed his hand from his pants, the sticky liquid all over his hand making him cringe. He's never been in a situation like this before, watching someone have sex right in front of him, being caught watching someone. It's a turn on, a sensation he never knew existed. 

“Chenle,” Jisung stated, “get on your knees.”

“W-what?” 

“Get down.” 

Chenle felt his stomach erupt in nerves, carefully falling to his knees on the other side of the room. He watches you walk up to him carefully, the prettiest glow in your skin that he's ever seen. The man is silent as he watches you undress in front of him, shoes go first, your leggings come down painfully slow. He needed you so badly he could practically taste you already, already seeing how much you came through your panties.

“You don't get to touch her till I say so,” Jisung says, coming behind you placing his hands on your hips. 

Chenle gulped, still watching you from his lashes. You hadn't said a word, allowing Jisung to take the lead on the entire situation and for some reason that scared him. 

“What do you want from her right now?” 

Chenle gazed at you, a dreamy expression in his eyes while watching your hand trail done to your panties. “I want to taste her.” 

“I'll let you if you apologize,” you respond, a shaky breath falling from your lips when your finger grazes your swollen clit. 

“I-Im sorry.” 

“For?”

The man looked like a puppy below you, brows knit, faint whines coming from him. If he had a tail, it would be wagging off the charts. His hands are grabbing at his pants, his hard on so clearly visible. He's nervous, not sure what to say and it's making him sweat but he has to say something. 

“For…uh…”

“For being a creep,” you finish, tone a bit stern. He nods, making you raise your brow slightly. “Say it.” 

“I'm sorry for being a creep.” 

“And?”

He gulps. The back and forth is beginning to frustrate him, just wanting to move your ruined panties to the side and give you what you've been dying for. But he knows he needs to do whatever you ask. After all, he is in the wrong. 

“And watching you in secret.” 

“Good boy,” you mumbled with a soft smile. Jisung rubbed circles in your hips, watching you pull your soaked underwear to the side. Chenle didn't wait for a single second before letting his mouth attach to your core. He ate you like a starved man, sucking and licking any part of you he could. Chenle's sweaty palms grabbed your legs, squeezing your thighs as if they were stress balls. 

“Fuck he's really going at you baby,” Jisung's raspy voice spoke in your ear, hands slipping under your shirt massaging your breasts. Jisung kisses your neck softly and slowly, grinding his clothed cock on your ass. 

“Fuck Chenle,” you whimper softly. He sucks your clit nice and hard, slurping noises filling the room. “Just like that.” 

He looks at you through his lashes, big brown eyes staring at you for approval as he flicks his tongue on your sensitive bud. Chenle keeps going, unable to hold back making you begin to shiver. Chenle feels your legs getting weak, but the other male behind you holds you up. He starts to groan, feeling you grind on his mouth, wanting to feel more of him. Chenle sticks his tongue out, allowing you to grind on his face more. 

“You look so pretty, baby. Keep fucking his face, just like that,” Jisung whispers in your ear, instantly giving you butterflies. 

“Oh fuck,” you whine, grabbing Chenle's hair pulling him closer to you. He flicked his tongue on your sensitive bud faster, his groans turning you on more and more. He sucks your clit hard, your eyes rolling back at the feeling, getting closer and closer to your orgasm. “Shit.. you're such a good boy..” 

“Are you gonna cum in his mouth,” Jisung whispers. 

You nod, moans getting louder and louder by the second. Your grip on his hair got stronger, making the boy whine in pain and pleasure. You could feel him melt in your hands when you came, legs trembling when his tongue lapped up your juices, eyes never breaking from your pretty face. 

But before Chenle could get too carried away, Jisung pulls your hand off his head, pulling his face from your legs. He was a mess, his hair disheveled, lips pink and plump, face wet with your cum. He's never been this desperate for a girl in his life, but you bring it out in him in the most embarrassing way possible. 

“You had your fun,” Jisung mumbled, pulling your body from the man on the ground. “Now I'll have mine, and you're gonna stay there and watch.” 

Without a word of protest, the man pulled you to the small couch that was on the wall behind you, plopping into it. He watches you, eyes never leaving your body as you climb on top of him. You hadn't had sex in ages, the sheer anticipation of feeling him inside you sending you off your rocker. The location of the sinful act didn't even cross your mind, your place of employment now feeling like a second home in a way. 

Chenle almost immediately took his cock from his pants, pumping it to the sight of you on top of the other man, watching you grind and kiss him. He couldn't see your face, but he didn't need to, not when your ass was perfectly fine. His eyes traced the lines of your back, hand squeezing his shaft as he wished it was himself you were on top of. 

Jisung kisses you in the sloppiest way possible. Tongue and saliva everywhere, his hands all over your body. You put your hands on his shoulders, lips still locked to each other's as you feel his hands rubbing your thighs, snaking to your ass. His big hands squeeze you, pushing you on his hard cock for more stimulation. 

“I wanna sit on your cock,” you mumble on his lips, peppering kisses on his jawline. 

Jisung says nothing, just reaches down into his shorts, pulling out his rock hard cock. You straddled his lap, knees sinking into either side of him. The male underneath you, pulls your panties to the side, pressing his tip into you. From how much you struggled to get him into your mouth, you knew getting him inside you was going to be a challenge. 

“Fuck,” you sighed, brows knitting when you felt a slight stretch. 

“You can do it baby.” Jisung's breathe hitches the moment he feels your walls engulf his tip, squeezing around him him. It was taking everything in him not to just ram into you at the moment. His head falls back, your eyes still on his face. Chenle watched you, eyes burning into your back as he watched you grind on the man, taking in every inch of your body in. 

With every move you made, Chenle matched in his hands, stroking himself as you grind slowly, speeding up when you sped up. Your moans made him shiver, groaning softly as he squeezed himself in his palms. Chenle nearly came when you looked over your shoulder, staring right at him as you moved the scene feeling like it came right out a porno. 

Jisung held onto your hips, fingertips pressing into your sides tight. He couldn't stop thinking about how you probably dreamt of this moment, thought about fucking him all the time, riding him till you cried. He could tell by your face that you were completely lost in the movements. So wet, he could slip out of you at any time. “Fuck baby, you feel so good,” he groaned, brows furrowed. 

Jisung smirked, eyes looking over your shoulder to see the other man jerking himself at an embarrassingly fast pace watching you ride him. Jisung held your hips tight, taking in your whimpering as you began to move faster. “Fuck, so big,” you whine, holding his shoulders tight. Your body shivers in his hands, hot skin making his palms sweat.

The sounds from your lips almost sent Chenle into overdrive, your sweet soft voice crying out and begging for more making him harder and harder. Chenle shivered when his fingertips dragged over his sensitive tip, the action making his hips buck into his hand. All he could do was imagine it was your tight pussy around his throbbing cock, imagine you were riding the life out of him. Chenle watches the way Jisung digs his fingers into your flesh, drinking every indent the man makes in your skin. He just wants to touch you, fuck you, make you feel good, but you won't let him. He doesn't mind, at least you didn't smack him and kick him out. 

Jisung slides his hands to your ass, squeezing tight as he begins to groan softly. “Just like that baby girl,” he said, a raspy voice filling your ears. “You wanna cum on my cock?” 

“Y-yes..” A gasp flies out your lips when Jisung lifts  you off his lap, laying you down on the couch. The man threw your leg in the air, sitting it on his shoulder as he stuffed his cock back inside you. You could barely catch your breath when he began drilling into you, your moans turning into whines and cries of pleasure all while lying there staring at Chenle who was still watching in awe. 

Chenle pumped his cock faster, watching the way your chest rose as you breathed. Your face fell on the dirty fabric, eyes fluttering open to look directly into his. A smile pulled your lips as you reached your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit as you watched him. Seeing him absolutely lost in you, helpless and desperate, wanting to feel you and be inside you, made you feel powerful. Chenle's moans were music to your ears, Jisung's hands all over your body, your senses heightened. 

“Fuck..I'm gonna cum,” you moaned breathlessly. 

“Yeah,” Chenle, sucking in his breath fast when he started to feel himself getting close. You watched him watch you moan uncontrollably, your lust taking over your senses seeing how fucked out he already was with just his hand. 

“Chenle,” you whimper, making the boy's eyes go wide. “Chenle, I'm so fucking close.”

Jisung didn't bat an eyelash, smirking as he continued to fuck the life out of you. His lip slipped between his teeth watching you rub your sensitive clit faster, pounding into you harder. “That's my girl,” he grunted. “Keep playing with yourself, cum all over me.” 

Your fingers kept rubbing, eye contact never breaking with Chenle while Jisung kept going as if he wasn't even there. The teary look on your face sent the man into overdrive, just that one look making him spill out all over his hand with a loud moan. Chenle couldn’t bear to look away from you, so pretty and sweaty, eyes wet with lust and desire. He's pathetic and he knows it, but if it makes you happy he'll live with it.

Jisung's grip on your leg tightens, his climax closer and closer. You can recognize those moans and grunts from anywhere, knowing he was about to cum. 

“Cum Jisung, cum in me,” you whimpered, mascara covering your cheeks. “Shit, shit..” Your orgasm hit you like a car, your whimpers turning into loud cries, body jerking underneath the man on top of you. Jisung still continued to pound into you, practically fucking the breath out of your body. With every gasp that left your lips, he went harder. Your trembling hands reached up, grabbing at his chest as you whined loudly. 

“I'm almost there, baby girl..” you were so tight around him, he was surprised he could even move. Jisung pounded into you until he came deep inside you, holding his breath as he released inside of you. “Fuck,” he groaned. 

A calm silence fell over the room, nothing but breathing bouncing off the walls and into your ears. You're hot, sweaty and completely delirious to the events that have just taken place within the past 30 minutes. Having sex with your favorite voice actor in front of your hot perverted coworker was not in your plans for the night, but you definitely cannot complain. 

“I can cross that off my bucket list,” Jisung chuckled, breaking the silence. “Jesus, that was fucking crazy..” 

“Yeah,” you agreed. But that was the only thing you could say. You couldn't even look at Jisung, let alone Chenle who still sat on the floor in front of you two. That's when you and Jisung hear shuffling, turning your heads to look at the man standing up in a hurry, shoving his now flaccid cock back into his pants. 

“I-I uh… I have to go.” Chenle grabbed his things hastily, bolting for the door without sparing either of you a second glance. 

Before you protest, the door slams, leaving you and Jisung alone. You look up at the man, mouth open in shock. 

“Wasn't that fun,” he says, beaming a tired smile at you. Jisung pulls out, his cum slowly dripping out of you onto the black couch. 

“That was…something else.” You're still shell shocked, the events not yet setting in. Jisung shuffles from between your legs, fixing up his pants and clothes. That's when you notice just how naked you actually were. “Fuck,” you mumbled. 

Putting your clothes back on, your legs felt sore from holding them in position for too long. A small hiss left your lips, making Jisung chuckle softly. “I did a bit much, didn't I,” he questioned. 

“Nothing I didn't like.” 

You stand up, slipping your shoes on while he towers over you, watching you silently with a smirk on his face. “Give me your number.” 

Your eyebrows shoot to your forehead, somewhat confused and surprised at his request. “My number?”

“Did you think I was gonna fuck you and never speak to you again? Especially when you're such a devoted fan?”

There it goes, your stomach erupting into butterflies like earlier. “You always know the right things to say,” you laugh. You're trying to keep it together, but unfortunately you're easy to read. 

“So, can I have it?” He licks his lips, eyeing you down like he's going to devour you. 

You gulp, nodding at his request. 

“Good girl. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

~

Walking into work the next day made your head rattle. All you could focus on were the sinful acts that took place behind that very counter your coworker Lily stood. You try to keep it normal, saying hi to everyone before walking into the back. 

Your body tenses when you see Chenle putting his things in his locker, the man turning around hearing your footsteps. You were expecting him to ice you out, but he gave you a small smile, nodding his head at you. 

“Hey,” he greeted, completely monotone. 

“Hey..” you put your things in your locker, gulping as he stood there, trying to not make it obvious that he was staring at you. But the awkward energy was eating away at your insides so you had to say something. “About yesterday I-”

“I'm sorry I stormed out. I was completely overwhelmed and embarrassed,” he interrupted. 

Your brows scrunch, head cocked to the side in confusion. “Embarrassed? Why were you-”

“I shouldn't have watched you like that. I'm sorry,” he admitted, avoiding eye contact. 

Your expression was blank, trying to compute his words. “Chenle, I don't care about any of that.” 

“Oh…”

“I wanted to tell you that yesterday was fun. I had fun and I hope you did too,” you said looking up at him sheepishly. “I hope this doesn't make things awkward between us.”

“I-it’s not awkward!” 

“Are you sure?? It seems awkward now,” you chuckle. 

Chenle takes a deep breath, before turning to you, his fingers toying with the sleeve of his jacket. “Listen, I really like you and yesterday was… an enigma. I want to get to know you on more of a personal note.” 

“Yesterday was personal.”

Chenle sighed, closing his eyes to try and rephrase his words. You stood there watching him struggle in amusement as he faced the ground. “Not personal in that way, personal in less of a coworker way,” he says. “A friendly way.” 

The reality of having options weighs on you all of sudden. You're very much attracted to both Jisung and Chenle. Chenle is cute, and wants to know you on more than a sexual level. Jisung has been your wet dream for years and seems like a pretty cool guy, not to mention the sexual chemistry with both of them is out of this world. There's no way they'd let you have your cake and eat it too. But you wouldn't know unless you try. 

You took a deep breath before speaking, biting your tongue as you stared at him through your lashes. “Jisung and I are hanging out later if you want to come,” you say quietly. 

“Oh,” he says. Chenle's mouth goes dry looking at your face. “I-I could hang out with you guys.” 

“Only if you want to,” you add. 

“I-I want to.” 

“Are you sure?” You sense a bit of doubt in his answer but that feeling immediately goes away when you watch his jaw clench and his eyes harden. 

He nods, his staring only intensifying as the clatter in the cafe plays in your ears as back noise. He wants you so badly at the moment, to just shove you in the lockers and show you a good time, but he won't and he can't, so for now all he can do is agree to hang out with you. 

“Then um.. I'll see you later.” Your body is hot as you scurry away from the man, his unintentional hungry gaze making you feel small, but you liked it. 

“Yeah, bye.” His words faded out as the door shut behind you, leaving him with nothing but his thoughts and his hard on. Chenle would never describe himself as a cuck but after the events that transpired the night before, watching the girl who isn't his girl but still his girl gets fucked by a handsome man wasn't all that bad. 

And he can't wait to do it again. 

[hiramaris]

Kiss it Off Me

CHAPTER 5

Chapter Summary:

The farmer have the knack to be in the right place at the right time. And apparently, Haley just happens to be there— All the time.

Pairings: Haley x Fem!farmer

Disclaimer:  I do not own Stardew Valley or any of the related characters. Stardew Valley is created by and owned by ConcernedApe. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights of the original Stardew Valley story belong to ConcernedApe.

Warning: alcohol

Gif by  LoucoMarx's Artwork

If anyone told Haley she'd grown fond of you at the beginning of the year, she'd probably laugh at their faces. 

It's weird.

How you become a constant presence in her life right now that it would be weird not to see you even once a day.

It had been apparently a routine for you, and unfortunately (fortunate) for her, that you'd drop by the 2 Willow Lane every morning as long as it's beyond 8am to have breakfast with them.

Emily is more than willing to accommodate you, saying along the lines "Haley's a little calmer when you're around, Y/n/n."

Ridiculous.

Of course Haley had to be on her best behavior. You didn't need to see her and Emily squabble for the second time around. That would be embarrassing.

Well... that's what she likes to think. What she allows herself to think.

Because why else would you even stick around with someone as mean as her and give her all these gifts?

And why the hell is Haley even putting up with this?

She'd like to think it's because you want to get something from her. Let's say an ulterior motive.

But deep down she knows it's simply because you're just nice. 

At first, you looked like you're trying a little too hard to be liked by everyone else. Why else would you give almost everyone gifts instead of actually selling them and make profit? It just doesn't make sense. 

But the moment Haley experienced your kindness firsthand, she knew to herself that there's really no other ulterior motive behind all the easy smiles and gifts you were giving Haley.

So, even though she tried not to like it, she found herself actively looking for your presence.

Luckily for her, it just so happens the farmer also have the knack to be in the right place at the right time. 

Surprisingly this time, Haley doesn't seem to mind.

Spring 17

This damn thing.

Haley let out an exasperated sigh as she stared at the stubborn jar in front of her, glaring it with such hatred she hoped it might open itself from the pressure. Her hands were already starting to hurt from trying to twist the lid open.

Can't she have a break? She just wants to cook breakfast today since Emily's out and all, and Haley can finally show you some of her cooking skills at home.

Yeah, sure she can be absolutely lazy with household chores but cooking is actually something she loved to do.

"Come on, just open already!" she exclaimed through gritted teeth.

Haley tried to use all her strength to open the jar, letting out a loud grunt as she felt her palms tingle with pain. But no matter how hard she tried, the stupid lid just wouldn't budge.

She was so busy trying to open the damn thing that she didn't noticed your presence behind her with an amused grin plastered all over your face, clearly finding humor at her antics.

"You need some help?" you voiced out behind her.

"Ugh," a flash of surprise flickered on her eyes when she turned around and locked her eyes with you before her face morphed into a mock scowl. "How does it feel seeing me in pain?"

You chuckled at her exaggeration. "Aw, does the baby needs help?" 

"Hmp." She squinted her eyes at that. "I was about to cook breakfast for us but now I don't feel like doing it."

She crossed her arms in mock anger for good measure.

How dare she calls her baby? And for the wrong reasons, too! 

The nerve!

"Alright, alright, miss sassy pants. Come here," Haley's frustration quickly turned into surprise as she felt you tugged her by the loop of her belt, pulling her close to your body. The heat that radiates from your skin ignites a fire in Haley's belly.

You reached over and snatched the jar out of Haley's grip, flicking it open with a simple twist of your wrist. You then swiftly returned it to Haley's hand and gave her a look that could only be described as smug.

"Piece of cake," you bragged with a grin.

Haley cleared her throat, masking her embarrassment as she playfully shoved you away. "Hmp. You're stronger than you look."

You narrowed your eyes at her, and Haley caught a mischievous glint in your gaze.

"What do you mean, 'stronger than I look'?" you retorted, a hint of challenge dripping in your voice. "I've got a few tricks up my sleeve, you know?"

"Oh, really now?"

As if to prove your point, you rolled up your sleeves up to your shoulders, flexing your muscles just long enough for Haley to appreciate how farm works definitely did wonders to your physiques, not that you weren't already toned before, but you're definitely becoming a little buffer.

Those farmer clothes just hid them all this time.

Haley's mouth went dry. "Y-yeah, yeah, show off."

It's amazing how Haley still manage to act like this when a simple act of flexing had her gotten her hot and bothered.

She's never been one to swoon over muscles before (Alex's muscle only made her gag most of the time), but there's something about the way you look right now that has her feeling all kinds of things.

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts of any impure ideas.

She didn't want to give you the satisfaction of stroking your already growing ego. Haley' sure that you are well aware of your effect on her, and if she let it show, you would only be so smug about it.

Sometimes, Haley regrets letting you be friends with Alex. Clearly, he's rubbing off you already.

"I wonder how many other ladies have been lucky enough to see that impressive display."

"How many are you?" you readily quipped.

Haley suddenly choked on her own spit as heat rose to her cheeks at your sudden boldness. (What the hell? What the what?)

"I'm gonna hit you," Haley threatened half-heartedly as she tried to regain her composure (and dignity.)

She has to make this stop or else everything will be too much for her. Which was a frequent occurrence nowadays when you're near her.

"Okay, okay!" you barked out a laugh, seemingly oblivious to your effect on Haley, much to her relief. "I'll help you cook, alright?"

"Fine. But you're going to boil the pasta. You suck at making the sauce."

"Yeah, yeah, M'lady. Let's do it your way."

Yeah, you definitely had the knack to be in the right place at the right time. 

And probably say the right things at the least opportune time. 

Does Haley mind? 

Definitely not.

Spring 20

The Flower Festival is in four days, and Haley will be damned if she'd be anything but flawless.

Currently lounging on her couch, Haley was draped in a flimsy white towel, the only piece of cloth covering her body besides the face mask she had just applied, and a soft towel wrapped around her hair to soak up some excess water.

She had already finished exfoliating her body, scrubbing away all the stresses and strains of the past few days. Of course, she can't forget moisturizing, too. Despite her naturally flawless skin, it took loads of branded lotions, scrubs and moisturizers (so worth the money) to keep it this perfect.

In short, it's her pampering day.

Haley was a true believer in the power of self-care, and she spared no expense in ensuring that every inch of her body was pampered to perfection.

And she can't afford to be stressed today.

Surprisingly, the day went by without a hitch.

Emily's usual nagging was nothing more than a minor annoyance that she brushed off without a second thought. And Alex, bless his heart, had the good sense to steer clear the moment he laid eyes on her with her bag of beauty essentials in tow.

He's also been kind enough to pass the message to you. Saying he'll just ask you to play ball with him or whatever to keep you busy earlier that morning.

Nothing, she repeats, nothing could ruin this nigh—

Her phone ringing was absolutely the least she expected to hear.

She was tempted to not answer, assuming it will be Emily on the other line. She doesn't call often during her shift, but if she does, she would occasionally ask Haley to bring either her apron or her shoes.

So, Haley's a little bit apprehensive about answering.

There's no way she's gonna be waltzing around outside just to give Emily her damn apron when she just finished her self-care!

Curiosity got the best of her though. With a deep breath, she swiped the answer button, hesitantly bringing the device to her ear.

"What?" she snapped, a little irritated at the interruption.

"Thank Yoba you answered. I was beginning to think you wouldn't." Emily babbled on the other line.

"Just spit it out, Em."

"Um," Haley can hear her hesitation. "Y/n/n's a little out of it and I kind of need help to get her home."

Haley sat a little bit straight at the mention of your name. "What do you mean she's out of it?"

"She's drunk."

For the love of Yoba—

What the hell are you thinking getting your ass drunk like that?

"Hay, are you still there?"

Haley has to literally calm herself down before speaking again. "I'm sorry but I can't. I just finished applying my face mask!"

"I see, I just thought since you're close with her and all..." Emily sounded a bit disappointed but didn't pushed it further. "I may just have to ask Penny to get her hom—"

"Be there in 5," was all Haley said before going to her room to get dressed.

She's going to kill you.

****

In no time at all, Haley arrived at the Saloon in her pajamas, hair damped and bare faced and everything. 

She saw Emily waiting outside, a visibly worried expression etched on her face. "Where is she?" Haley asked, her tone urgent.

Emily motioned towards the Saloon's door. "She's inside."

Normally, Haley wouldn't be caught alive inside her sister's workplace but that's the least of her concerns right now. "What the hell happened?"

"Since it was Shane's birthday and all. Y/n/n kind of bet with him who could drink the most beer without getting drunk. Safe to say no one won, huh?" Emily had the audacity to sound so sheepish. 

Haley nodded absentmindedly and took a deep breath before pushing open the door.

Sure enough, you were there, slumped over the bar with a couple of empty bottle of beer beside her. Shane's there too, but he's unconscious on the floor with Marnie trying her absolute best to wake her nephew up. 

Haley wanted to be mad at you. You literally made Haley walked across town with nothing but her pajamas! She also never go out without makeup and especially when she has just finished her skin care!

But what the hell.

Her heart could only flutter at the sight. How can someone be an idiot and cute at the same time?

She strode over to you and placed a hand on your back, careful not to startle you. "Y/n, come on. Let's get you home," she chided softly.

You groaned softly, lifting your head slightly at the sound of her voice, your eyes bloodshot and unfocused. "Hay..? Is that you..?"

"Yeah, it's me," Haley answered, helping you to your feet. She took your arm and wrapped them around her shoulder, while her other arm secured its place on your waist to keep youfrom falling. "Come on, let's go."

Having the inability to stand by yourself, Haley found you leaning almost half of your weight on her.

Yoba, you're quite heavy. 

"You smell geurd..." you slurred more.

Haley tried to fight herself from flushing at the comment. It did not help that your face is practically buried at the side of her neck.

"I know," Haley tried to retort. "And you smell like beer." She wrinkled her nose in mock disgust.

On the contrary, you actually smelled like freshly picked lemons and mint apart from the subtle scent of beer. It seemed that you prepared for this occasion and showered accordingly.

Haley briefly nods in approval. You didn't smell as bad as she expected, you weren't even sweaty, too compared to Shane here.

Haley stole a quick glance at him, noting his unruly stubble, tattered hoodie, and unkempt hair.

It was evident he hadn't exactly prioritized cleanliness lately. Haley couldn't help but be grateful that you were the complete opposite. But she decided not to dwell on it. After all, it was Shane's birthday, and he was entitled to be himself, even if it meant being his usual slightly musty, emo self.

"Even in my prime years I wasn't able to drink that much beer!" Pam cackled at the background, catching Haley's attention. She's clearly only tipsy despite the massive number of empty bottles in front of her. "Kids these days, really." She shook her head before turning to Emily. "Kid, can you give me some more mead?"

"Sure, Pam." Emily looks at Haley apologetically. "Sis, can you—"

"I got it. It's okay."

Leah, who had been eyeing them from the table decided to make her way towards them. "Do you need help?" before adding jokingly, "I didn't know Y/n/n was a drinker."

"Well, at least she's a lot calmer than Pam." Gus chimes in. "And a whole lot lesser violent than Shane here." He added as he eyed Shane on the floor with a couple of empty bottles beside him. Marnie is still trying to wake him up.

Haley raised an immaculate brow.

If Leah wanted to help maybe it would have been useful a couple of hours ago if she stopped this dungus from doing a stupid bet. Haley didn't dare say that though, and bit her tongue to stop saying something foul, instead, she opted with a strained, "thanks, but I got this." 

"You sur—"

The door of the Saloon swung open once again, and another redhead came straight to them. "What happened?" Penny asked in urgent. She's clad in her pajamas as well and her usually immaculate hair was down, which tells she's also ready for bed. "Mom called that Y/n/n was dru—"

"Kiddo, you're here!" Pam cheered loudly, Gus can only grimace at her antics. "I was just saying here that Y/n definitely won the bet!"

"Mom..." Penny sighed. "You should have stopped her. Y/n has work tomorrow."

"Hmp. It wouldn't hurt to have fun. Let the kid get loose a little. She's already been working hard."

Knowing it's no use to argue with her drunk mom. Penny turned to Haley, giving her a polite smile. "Do you need help taking her home?"

"Yeah!" Leah agreed beside her. "My cabin's near her farm, it would be no problem at all."

Haley tries to mask the sudden annoyance she feels at the women in front of her, and as well as the struggle she's feeling under the weight of the farmer. But she stood her ground stubbornly. She fakes a smile. "I got this."

"Are you s—"

"I got this." She repeated, this time firmly.

****

She definitely did not got this. 

You were thoughtful enough to stay still while Haley guided you out of the Saloon. But once they took a turn near 2 Willow Lane, the farmer started wriggling against her grasp.

"W-where... we going..?" you asked, slurring. 

"I'm taking you home," Haley replied in between grunts. 

What the hell is she even thinking?

She should have accepted Penny's help— hell, even Leah's help would be also appreciated but Haley just didn't like the idea of having those two around you.

Yeah, she knew you're friends with these two girls but Emily called her first, right? Never mind that she declined it first but Haley didn't want to be a bad friend letting you slumped all night long over that greasy bar. 

"Yoba, just how many beers did you drink? Surely, you're not that much of a lightweight."

You narrowed your eyes at her, holding up three fingers, "I had 9. Shane I think..." you held out a finger to her chin, "had 7."

Haley couldn't help but snort in amusement. "I'm pretty sure I'm not that dumb to count 3 on your fingers."

"It's 3 times 3." 

"Yeah, sure."

"Yeah! And I'm completely sober," you declared, as if your words alone were enough proof. But your actions told a different story, as you stumbled once again, prompting Haley to exclaim, "stay still, you dungus!"  before you manage to free yourself away from Haley's arms. "See?" 

"Clearly." Haley answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she approached you. You were swaying dangerously and on the verge of collapsing over Marnie's fence.

"Oops—" You flashed a stupid grin as Haley caught you just in time, preventing you from face-planting into one of the feces of Marnie's cows. "Thanks, babe."

Haley almost dropped you at the unexpected endearment.

Her cheeks flushed deeply, and she internally debated whether to abandon you here or let her own remaining shreds of dignity vanish into the night.

She coughed awkwardly, trying to regain her composure. "Wow, you sure are flirty tonight. You sure you're sober?" 

"I don't know," You answered truthfully, sounding strangely sober. You came to a halt, causing Haley to stop as well. "The only time I allow myself to be this close to you without my heart pounding in my chest is in the reality I've created in my dreams. So, tell me, Haley..."

Under the moonlight, your eyes held an intensity and softness that seemed almost impossible.

"Am I sober, or is this just a dream?"

****

Previous

Next

Notes:

I absolutely adore all those who left some comments from the past chapters. Thank you so much!

Alsooooo, I know it's a bit overdue buuuut

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 1K LIKES AND 100 FOLLOWERS! I didn't really expect this account to blow up like this but I really, really appreciate you guys and your patience for me.

I am so sorry for the delays as well. I just have a lot of things happening at the same time, you know, with uni and everything.

And I feel like I owe you guys a chapter. So here ya go!

[polakina]

how they act when they're jealous

call of duty headcanons #5

hc masterlist // masterlist

god i love seeing jealousy in men. and i love the 141. so this is a nice happy medium

ALSO im running out of ideas AHH pls send me some. i need to write more

rating: explicit

-

stone-faced expression

teeth gritted

if looks could kill, they'd be dead

you'd all gone out after a long mission to unwind

gaz and soap took the opportunity to try and out drink eachother while simon stayed pretty much to himself

but price had alternative plans for the night

keeping an eye on you

not that you needed the supervision, but when you drank, you liked to wander. he'd been thinking about tying a balloon to your shirt when you all went out to make sure you were still in the building

he was considering it right this second, after he'd lost sight of you for a third time that night

then he caught you, at the bar, most likely ordering another round of drinks. you looked happy, smiling. it was nice for him to see after such a strenuous three weeks you'd all just had

but his eyes turned black when he saw a guy come up next to you, hand reaching for your waist

he'd left his drink with simon, made his way over to you and stood directly behind you as you were turned to the man before this asshole even formulated a hello

you'd felt a presence behind you, knowing it was john and not even turning to see if you were right. but by the look on that guy's face, you probably were

"best just to walk away, eh?" you heard from behind you. it made you smirk as the guy scuttled away like a raccoon in a trash can

turning to see john's stoic expression, his piercing gaze boring into the guy's head until he was out of view

had his hand on you the whole night after that

it felt like a protective grip on your thigh

his jaw was clenched and you felt his eyes on you constantly, but every time you looked at him, his gaze was elsewhere

feels the need to touch every part of you to eradicate any sense of that other guy's hands on you

turns dominant, holding you down, kissing every part of you

"can't believe he thought he had a chance" "fuckin' arsehole thinks he can put his hands on you" "need reminding that you're mine, hmm? is that it?"

you love it when he gets jealous

you're not leaving the bed for hours

he fucks you raw. hard.

your throat is hoarse and your voice is gone by the time he's done

you can barely lift your arms or legs afterwards; they're shaking and sore from his harsh grip on your thighs

his manhandling is rough, but you love it. you submit to it as he pounds into you until the sun peeks through your curtains

graves is who riles him the most on base

especially when he's talking to you

graves has a certain way of annoying ghost but making it seem like an entirely normal conversation to you

just by existing, he gets on ghost's nerves

"you look good in that gear, honey. suits you" was all ghost could hear from the air field

it enraged him completely. everyone saw it. you brushed it off, and saw ghost glaring at the two of you

you smirked, catching his eye. he cocked his head, almost daring you to further this

always quiet when he's jealous

just likes to watch, unless something goes too far. then he steps in

but with this, he wanted until you came to him

you did, an hour later in the armoury. he busied himself cleaning his weapons as you came into the room

you knew that look, the one he gave you

he always gave you that look. whether it was because some man gave you attention, or you flirted for intel undercover, or even if someone looked at you for too long

he didn't speak. he just walked over to you, towering above you while reaching behind your back to lock the door

he liked to make you know that you were his

"letting graves give you all that attention, hmm?" his voice was decibles lower than usual when he was like this. it made your walls clench just hearing it. "that man was looking you up and down like a piece of meat. can't have that, can we?"

liked to hear you cry out his name when he fucked you

can't feel jealous if someone else's name isn't in your mouth, can he?

with each thrust he coaxed you, ordered you to tell him who you belonged to

the table which you sat on rammed into the wall every time his cock pushed deeper and harder into you

his hand on your throat forcing you to look at him, into his eyes, fingerprints bruising into your skin

his hands slapped against your thigh, marking your skin a deep red

never let you cover it up the next day either, you had that shit on show, for all ghost could say

graves steered clear of you after that

as a commanding officer, you trained the rookies

but they were smarmy and smug, often threw comments your way that you learned to brush off without a passing thought

soap had sat in on one of your sessions, watching from under a tent

he watched them whisper about you, watched a few of them gaze at your arse

it made his blood boil

his face could never hide any signs of jealousy. it painted his features like a detailed portrait

they were target shooting, and the few delinquents that couldn't concentrate on anything other than you were poor at their aiming

he liked to prove his worth in situations like this

he took it as a competition, one he knew he could win

you saw him stride over, taking the rifle out of one of the boys hands and taking a stance at the marker

rolling your eyes, you knew this couldn't end well

he'd done this before

a guy tried to flirt with you in a bar once, soap won the fight between them

you were whistled at while driving through the city you lived in, soap smoked him and sped off way ahead of that asshole

he can't back down

he doesn't realise he doesn't need to compete for you. you're already his

soap fires at every target with immediate precision, not even taking a breath between shots

then he tosses the gun back to the rookie with a smug look on his face

"maybe start focusing on the task at hand instead of her, hmm? or else i'll have you off this base before you can blink, boy"

he grinned as he caught your eye, winking before taking his seat back under the shadow of the tent, continuing to watch as though nothing happened

no rookie let their gaze linger on you again after that

he came to visit you at work often when he was home, so he didn't have to stay in the apartment by himself

the little coffee shop was a comforting place for him, the smell of coffee grounds and freshly baked goods always lifting his spirits

you had a co-worker that was always close by your side, but he never thought much of it up till now

you were on your break and made your way over to join him at the table with two coffees in hand

you seemed different, more irked than usual, and your phone wouldn't shut up either, which seemed to piss you off more

it was your co-worker. he learned about the dates he'd asked you on, about whether you wanted to go to his place after work. it'd been happening for weeks, even after you'd said no

gaz said nothing, making his way over to that co-worker

you watched as he leaned over the counter, whispering something to the man that turned his skin pale and his eyes wide

he scurried off to the back room and gaz walked back over to smiling

"what did you say?"

"nothing you haven't already said to him, love"

he pulled your chair closer, kissing the side of your head

he was calm when jealous, to a point where you could barely tell

his jaw never clenched, his gaze never darkened, his body language remained the exact same

but he was always observant, never let anything go too far

but his body language always changed, more tense, more aggravated whenever you became uncomfortable in any situation

he was always by your side in seconds, but never starting a confrontation, just removing you from the scene without causing a fight

like i said, not a man of confrontation

[low-budget-korra]

Arcane Hot Takes

1. The hate on Jayce is mostly for no reason. He was a good guy, genuinely nice and with no toxic masculinity. He never created Hextec to be a weapon or to destroy the world. And only got really mad when Jinx stole his creation and honestly? He had the right to be mad at that. He ain't perfect, he made mistakes but c'mon guys.

2. If you hate on s2 Caitlyn but idolize Silco, you're a hypocrite. The difference is that Caitlyn did all blinded by grief while Silco did blinded by the thirst for power

And speaking of Silco…No, he is not this revolutionary man some of the fandom make him out to be. He was a Mafia boss who filled the streets with drugs, divided and weakened his own community and even used child work in his factories. Yeah, he was not some Che Guevara freedom fighter. All he had was beautiful speeches abt it.

And also not this perfect father figure for Jinx, as he kept filling her paranoias and manipulating her

3. The writers made a miracle managing to end the show in a nice way, but the truth is that Arcane needed at least one more season to be perfect. 

In s2 they rely too much on characters' micro expressions and subtext. Which is not a bad thing at all, but in a first view a lot of things get missed

I already saw s2 three times, so if you think things were poorly explained, try to watch a second time. Better, binge s1 and s2 and I guarantee that a lot of stuff you think was outta nowhere, will make sense.

4. Caitlyn had the best character arc in season 2. Experiencing the phases of grief, getting radicalized and manipulated, opening her eyes and realizing what she was doing, a subtle yet important redemption.

And I Say "subtle" bc even if for me it was obvious, I know for a lot of people, it wasn't.

Also, the haters don't want her to recognize what she did wrong bc she already did, just not with those on the nose dialogues. The haters wanted her to be punished, which she also was. Girl was stabbed in the abdomen, betrayed by her right hand, was almost executed in front of her men, got beat up with a knife still in her abdomen and lost an eye. Yeah, I think she was punished enough and if you wanted more, just admit that you are a bit sadistic and move on

5. Arcane is fiction. Sure, it takes insp in real life problems but is still fiction. Its cool to be able to recognize the themes but project our world problems, anger and frustration towards the characters is stupid and makes you miss a lot of good stuff in the show. If you act radical abt the show, you don't have the right to judge someone that goes radical after losing her mom to a terrorist attack.

It doesn't matter if her mother was rich or something. In fact, Cassandra was one of the few council members, maybe the only one, who actually did something good for the Zaunites as she was the one that created those air filters for people in Zaun, the workers, be able to breathe without getting cancer or smt.

Yes, I know it's the bare minimum but she was the only one doing something. Heimerdinger in his 200y never did something like that and only tried to help Zaun when he was expelled from the council.

6. Vi didn know Jinx was wanting to off herself. Jinx already tricked her a couple times before and “breaking the circle” , from Vi’s pov could mean a lot of things. From offing herself to explode things again. She doesn't watch Arcane guys, she doesn't know Jinx as well as we do.

7. Having Zaunites helping Piltover in the battle wasn't lazy writing or disrespectful. It was literally about the fate of their world, y'all thing Ambessa and Viktor would stop with just Piltover? Who y'all think would be the next target? 

They also used the enforcers uniform because it is a tactical one, useful in a situation like a battle. I can hate on the police all I want but in a situation like that, I would rather go to battle with that stupid uniform and bullet proof vest than go on a simple tank top, jeans and converse.

And this shows how better the Zaunites are compared to Piltover and it's enforcers. They were willing to shallow their hate, their pride and help their oppressors for the greater good. That's a good heart, maturity and emotional intelligence.

[internalsystemerror]

Sunflowers for Anxiety

Childhood friend!Seokmin x Reader

A new boy moves to your class in the middle of second grade. Shy, perpetually blushing, and with what seems to be a chronic stutter, Seokmin endears himself to you quite quickly. Hand in hand, you grow and watch him unfurl into the brightest flower on the field.  A count into the years you spend with Seokmin, watching him grow and maybe falling in love on the way. word count:9k tags: fluff, angst, part 1 goes though k-12 and is mostly a slowburn development. Part of the And Childhood Comes Once More series. Part 1. Part 2

Second grade

There was static licking at his bones, biting away at Seokmin’s flesh until it ate him whole from the inside out to leave him nothing more than a husk. He’s sure if someone cut him open right now there would be nothing to show but cricket noises and whatever his anxiety had decided wasn’t palatable. Remember honey, his mother had told him before he had walked into this whole new school, deep breaths - all 5 of your little senses are important ok? 

It was supposed to help him concentrate on what he could sense, to try and find his voice against the swelling backdrop of angry buzzing, but nothing he grasped helped. The crackling music was too angry as it poured out of the aged and chipped player, the walls were too dull compared to the class he used to inhabit everyday, the floor was so so rough on his hands and he doesn’t even remember collapsing to the floor to be able to feel it. 

His vision began to swim, betraying him against the threat of tears and nausea that made his whole body shudder. He wishes his dad didn’t get that raise, he wishes he could have stayed in his old district because at least when he was lonely back there it was familiar. The upset hit like a punch to the stomach, forcing Seokmin to curl into himself, his stomach hurt from being ripped apart, and no matter how hard he breathed the air was too thick to help - god he just wanted to go home.

Hours may have passed, minutes or mere seconds - Seokmin couldn’t tell. The world had long since bled together in a stressful blur or movement that he was content on downing in - the static tugging at the edges of his view. Maybe that's why, when your soft touch took his hand, he flinched back so violently - still disoriented. 

“Hey! You're bleeding!” Your voice was too loud for him, splitting at his ears and making his head pound and he can’t stop the sob that wrecks from his throat. It's embarrassing, and he kind of wants to melt away right there. Your touch wrenches back, and despondent Seokmin feels a strange sort of loss until he feels the return of two hands taking his own - gentle brushing against them. “Sorry,” you murmur, softer and a bit mumbled, tongue too small to properly enunciate at such a soft volume. Despite this - he’s able to focus more on your voice, the lilt to it and the sparkling wind chime tone. It's nice. 

His swimming vision narrows down into your guilty face, and the room feels so much warmer than he remembered. Oh their eyes are pretty, he thinks a little delirious, this is the prettiest person I’ve ever seen. He prays he doesn't manage to say this out loud, then he’d really have to pass away. Like a sputtering candle light trying to stay alive, Seokmin tries to focus on your warm touch - and jerks back at the stain of red on your intertwined fingers. 

“Oh, I’m bleeding,” he manages to wrench out , only able to repeat after you uselessly. His cuticles had been peeled back, and now that the static is beginning to peel away he can feel the sting. This is his least favorite part of his panic, when the world comes back and he realizes it had moved on without him.  “Ow.” His lips begin to wobble, and the tell tale hiccup like sob bubbles up in his throat.Despite his best efforts he can’t stop it.

 He doesn’t want to cry in front of the pretty person he just met but his head still hurts and his nails are really, really red. He can feel his panic shocking up his spine again, but somehow he can focus a little better on you, on your warm hands and pretty eyes and soft mumbled wind chime voice. The texture of your hair, the sticky sweet scent of the lip gloss that's popular these days, the embroidered sunflower on your shirt. All of his senses are on you. 

“Yeah,” you mumble back, eyes furrowing cutely as you try to think of a way to help. You had originally just been watching the new boy collapse in the corner of the room with concern, but had been spurred to action at the sight of blood. Worried over the boy who seemed to be melting into the floor you had hurried over, but other than stopping his picking you weren’t sure what to do. “Do you wanna go to the teacher?” At the mention of the foreboding figure who had towered over him during his stuttered out introduction to the class , Seokmin feels some tears spill over and break the careful barrier he had managed to hold.

 In response he feels you tense, and moves back a little. Before he can apologize you open your arms wide in an offer to hug - the only thing you could think of to stop him from crying. He falls into you easily, and he swears he’s not usually so clingy but it's nice to be held, to hold. The static pushes further back, and his headache is gone now - leaving nothing but the dull ache in his bones at its retreat. 

“Can’t,” he hiccups out, and despite his tapering sobs his heart is still beating so loud he’s sure you can hear it. He can feel his face heating up, it feels like their molten metal under his skin threatening to melt his face off. He kind of hopes that it will, just so he’ll stop embarrassing himself in front of you. He chances a wobbly glance up to you, and his heart skips a little when your eyes meet. Gosh, they really are pretty. He sputters a little and looks down, but your attention is already caught. 

“Ok,” You whisper, in a voice lighter than anything he’s ever heard. It's able to smooth through the air and lay upon him almost like a cover. “No teacher, let's just - let's just go to the nurse then.” Students aren't allowed to leave without permission, but you are determined to take him by the hand and lead him down the winding hall paths you know by heart.  His stomach hurts less now, and he bites his tongue so he doesn’t accidentally say I think you just need to keep holding my hand. On the way there Seokmin can’t help but notice how warm you are, how soft your palm feels against his. The static quiets so he can listen to your voice, but his face still feels too hot. 

Later when he sits in the nurse's office, you sit beside him still holding his hand as the nurse wraps a bandaid over his fingernails. His legs kicked out slightly and the nurse smiled indulgently at the sight of you. “My names y/n,” you introduce cheerfully, now that the imminent threat is over you seem to have reclaimed some sort of energy. Your voice is louder than it had been, and it allows Seokmin to hear more of you. Seokmin likes it, he likes you. 

“I’m Seokmin,” he smiles back. 

—

Third Grade

There's the loud clutter of voices and backpacks smashing into each other in the halls as the school doors open again for the year. The paper in his hands spell out another name he can’t pronounce as his teacher as adults beckon him through the hall again. Like sardines packed into a tinned can, children swarm over and under him somehow - and the distinct noise of static fills his ears just below the threshold. 

The loud clutter of voices and backpacks smashing against each other manages to clog the hall with its inherent youthful violence as the doors for school open again. Seokmin is pushed down the hall, feet stumbling over each other in the new shoes his mother had bought him. It's good to look your best Seokmin, she had said you never know who you might meet! Absently the flash of pretty eyes had entered his mind before he banished it, but not before his mother had caught sight of his flushing cheeks. 

Like his old school, the district had provided a small paper packet that held his teachers name and room number. His parents had printed it out for him so he wouldn't get lost, but the paper in his hands just spelled out another name he can’t pronounce. The edges are torn from his nervous fidgeting and there is nowhere to sit still as the boy behind him shoves him up and the girl in front of him gives him a stink eye. Like sardines packed into a tinned can, children swarm over and under him somehow - and the distinct noise of static fills his ears just below the threshold. 

The walls have been repainted, he doesn’t remember them looking like this. Where is he anyways? Has he ever seen this hall before? He can feel his hands begin to lose their sense of touch, overpowered by the needle-like sensation of panic seeping into his body. What can you see, the departed thinks, what can you hear, taste, touch or smell? It doesn’t help. 

Steadily he begins suffocating on air, only pushed forward by the steady rampant unwanted touch of others. He stumbles again at the frustrated push of the boy behind him, and is only stopped from crumbling to the ground by the familiar softness sliding into his hold. He clutches at it, and turns to see you - and your pretty eyes, your bright voice, and the fruity hand sanitizer you’d obsessed with over the summer. . 

“Hey,” you lean forward, tucking him close to you almost protectively, close enough to share your space and creating your own little bubbles in the hallway. Here, the noise is a little less loud, and nobody can touch him but you.  It's safety, it's you.(You, and your warm touch that not even the sun had been able to rival. His mother had told him he had a crush, but Seokmin just thinks that anyone who didn’t like you was a little dumb.)  

You smile, showing a missing tooth that you must have lost over the summer and forgot to tell him about. He grins back. Gross, is said with an incredible amount of infatuation. 

 “Which class do you have?” He asks with a numb mouth - but can feel the corners of his lips lift by themselves to mimic you. Like always his body begins to sync up with yours, as if trying to tie yourself together at the base. Your hand is warm, your eyes are still pretty, your smile is just as comforting as last year. You say the correct pronunciation of the name threatening him from his paper and he can only feel a sense of relief flood him. 

“You?” He’s only able to nod, tongue tied from the loose state of his being. You don’t seem to mind his lack of communication skills - carefully intertwining your hand with his as you understand him with no words. The static is replaced with something softer, little fluttering wings swallowed in his stomach. You still have to walk ahead of him, splitting students and teachers alike so you can move through, like the knights in his books that slay the dragon for the princess. 

The classroom you find is different. The new classroom is less colorful, yet wider in a way that makes it feel almost empty compared to your last class. The tables you’d hide under are gone, the corners you hide away in have no furniture to hide you, to Seokmin there's a lack of you in this room. Without any more time to ponder it you drag him to the new corner, and sit next to him - claiming the table for you both. 

Well, there's always time to make more memories. A new year isn’t too bad if you keep holding his hand. 

—

Fourth Grade

Another year passes, you spend the schooldays with clasped hands and whispered jokes pressed so close to each other's ears the kids next to you had thought Seokmin was kissing your cheek. So what, you had demanded in defense, go get your mom to kiss yours instead. Fourth grade isn’t too much different then the last two years - he thinks it might be a little more pleasant because you're always just a breath away. 

You're a lot more expressive, more outward as you spend a majority of recess snapping at the boys who tease him and the girls who try to spread rumors. He likes the way your eyebrows furrow, and your triumphant look when you win the argument.  He especially likes when you smile, and he’s made a habit of getting you to crack at least once a day. (It gives him a pleasant sort of fluttering, almost bordering on anxious if he hadn’t been so addicted to it.) Seokmin has a knack for making people smile, once he can find his voice, and he kind of wants to take a picture every time you break out into a grin. 

After coming home one too many times, throwing his backpack to the couch and rambling about his pretty best friend who held my hand during my presentation so I wouldn't stutter, his mother insists he bring you over. Their like a unicorn, she had always heard about items but I never saw them. She teases him later over dinner about the face splitting grin that overtook his face. 

It’s only a few weeks later that he works up the courage to ask you, face so red you had worried he’d gotten sick somehow. A few days after you're laying in his living room together, ignoring the cartoon blaring from the tv speakers. The scent of some sort of savory stew floats through the house, wafting through the room and prompting your stomach to rumble. Your content to ignore it as you focus on getting the streaky blue of your sky just right, far too saturated in comparison to the light cyan the sky currently was. Despite this you see Seokmin grin at you, as if it was just as good as the art you see on the walls. To him it might be. 

Growing bored of drawing you stretch, the satisfying pop of your knuckles echo through the room and you see Seokmin squirm from his position on the couch. 

“What are you making,” you poke curiously - pouting a bit when he curls into himself to hide what he’s been hunched over for the past few hours. He shyly shakes his head, peeking up at you in the same way a puppy might. 

“It’s a surprise,” he insists - “and it's not done! No looking!!” You snort - reaching over to try and wrestle him out of the rolly polly position he’s locked in. He whines high in his throat - and despite being able to overpower you he plays the defense, rolling away in a futile attempt to keep whatever he has hidden. You’d noticed this about him, he’s always gentle. You have yet to hear him raise his voice outside of a comedically timed joke and even then when he holds your hands it's so light it might not even be there. 

You tickle at his sides, watching him squirm and try and wriggle his way out of your hold. You chase after him, feeling your hands soak up the warmth from his laughter as you practically glow in your sympathetic giggles. The overhead light glows behind you, creating a halo effect around your figure and for a second Seokmin can only stare before your tricky fingers find his ticklish spot again. He’s practically out of breath by the time his mother calls you for dinner, and you stick your tongue out as you pick yourself from the ground. Seokmin is heaving as he follows you, and despite it he makes sure to catch up so he can hold your hand on the way to his kitchen. 

The stew is delicious, and Seokmin takes the time to peel apart some side dishes so you can eat easier. You don’t understand why he flushes so red when his parents snicker. Just before you leave he shyly tugs on your sleeve - and presses a mess of string and beads in your favorite color to your palm. A friendship bracelet - with the word “sunflower” in mismatching fonts. He grins at you, still beetroot red but so pleased he looks as if he could start purring. “Do you like it?” Somehow, you practically burn. It's nice though, almost pleasant. 

“I love it ,Seokmin.” How are you so warm, you wonder as you slip it around your wrist. 

The next day he finds a neater bracelet on his desk, strung with pretty blue beads and calligraphy-esque words that simply spell “Seokmin”. He’s rarely seen without it. 

—

Summer of fifth grade

The air is slick with sweat and sticky residue of whatever fruit had sat on the table for too long, making it lukewarm to the touch. It had been quickly abandoned in favor of the snacks that leave less residual, so you both didn't have to keep wiping your hands to hold each other. The night had taken away the majority of the summer’s wrath - but you and Seokmin were still dependent on the small whirring fan placed at the corner of your pillow hut. Keep the door open honey, his mother had called, laughing when he turned bright pink and screeched back,Mom!!!.

You could feel a small drop of sweat making its way down your brow, before Seokmin dabs it away with a spare napkin. (There's nothing about you he doesn’t notice, it would be scary if it wasn’t so awfully sweet.) He’s not faring any better himself - and despite the air feeling cooler outside of your intricate blanket fort you both refuse to get out. It's sweltering, and kind of gross - but your hands remain locked even as he leans over to press play on the next film.You wonder how long you have with him, until the summer ends and school comes to steal him away. 

These days Seokmin has begun splitting off into a new friend group - people have begun to see him more and have found that he suits their taste. He’d recently gotten into plays and theatre - consuming them a mile a minute. You were happy for him, truly, though it seems all he can think about. The theme of this particular play starts blasting through the fort as he cuddles back up to your side, and you feel the pleased sigh he gives when you allow him to press his cheek against yours. It had been a while since you’d been able to catch a moment for just the two of you, and despite the sweat feeling gross you can’t bring yourself to let go. 

“There's a theatre club in the middle school,” he murmurs to your shoulder. You can feel his breath ghost your skin a bit - and you can't help but think that this too is gentle. It used to be what you adored in him, but now you think he may be too gentle. That one day you’ll look back to take his hand and he’ll have been swept from your life in a benevolent breeze. 

“You gonna join?” You whisper back, tone plaintive but you can’t help the way your heart pounds. You already know the answer, you're always able to talk with your boy, your Seokmin. Despite his warmth practically melting you - there's a chill rushing through you, an odd feeling of isolation despite your current company. Not wanting to hear his answer, you turn suddenly and close your eyes - willing the world to stop for a moment, so that the night could stay just you and Seokmin. In this tight space, with his dumb plays still blasting, where the two of you can extend forever. 

You fall asleep still intertwined, legs tangled together and hands clasped so tight they cramp. Somehow you had turned again to press your foreheads together as if trying to meld into one person overnight - the music to his favorite piece swinging through the melted air. His blue bracelet glints softly together with your own. His mother takes a picture the next day and threatens to frame it, you think it looks a lot like the title of an epilogue. 

—

Sixth grade

The theatre turned out to be an old barely operating stage, run by students with exuberant personalities that seemed to force the air alive. They were magnetic, and brilliant in their performance - and somehow Seokmin fit right in. Or rather, it’s obviously he had. Seokmin had always had that sort of pleasantry to him, the ability to light and warm a room just by his voice alone.  

You and him don't share many classes these days, but he had insisted he still walk you home. I don't get to see you all day, he had whined after a full day of sobbing when he realized you shared no classes. He had face planted into your lap, forcing you to card your hands through his hair. You had laughed as you agreed wanting to see him as well, but as you watched him bounce about the stage you thought it might be a mistake. 

He was loud on stage, outgoing and filled with an energy you had never known in him. In absence of his careful touches and soft intonations - he dances on the stage playfully with his theatre partner. She’s pretty, you think gorgeous really. He tugs him around the stage in a playful dance as the others laugh around him - before abruptly streaking across the stage to insight a game of tag. (Just the other night, he had insisted the tightest he’d ever hold you was the firm and slow embrace he gave you each day. You had thought it sweet at the time, but now you wonder if it's because he didn’t want to hold you at all.) He’s burning up on that stage, like an untamed sun. Like a boy you don’t know. 

The darkened seats of the theatre seem to welcome you in your isolation as you sink further into the background. You can't remember the last time he’d been so energetic or loud with you, no - was he ever? You wonder how the middle of spring could possibly be so cold, you could have sworn the tree’s had started to bloom, but there's a chill pressing kisses to your spine. God, it's cold.  Somehow his eye catches yours, and he stutters to a stop - exchanging a few more pleasantries with his new friends and rushing over. You watch as the loudness dissipates from him, evaporating with each step until he finally reaches you as the same gentle boy you had met in 2nd grade. You wish it made you feel better, having this part of him to yourself - but it doesn’t. Instead it makes you feel just a bit cold. 

“You should have called out to me,” he scolds lightly, hand reaching forward to slot into yours - and you intertwine your fingers on habit. The natural hue of rose brushes against his cheeks again, and you think this can’t be the man that was laughing so loud on stage. Suddenly his grip is so icy you want to run away. 

“No,” you murmur back, “why ruin your fun?” He frowns, leaning forward to press into your space - but the bubble you once so naturally shared seems to pop awkwardly instead. Boys grow, Y/n. Your mother had said over dinner as you confided in her, wondering about the changes you could only see a distance away -and who were you to keep Seokmin from growing?

“Y/n, you know I - you're my best friend. Right?” Just like always you reach out to press your foreheads together, touching his cheek lightly. Just like always you playfully tap your weathering bracelets together and giggle against the first clogging your throat.

“Of course.” a pause. “But hey - let's start walking home separately ok?” Ah, winter might be coming sooner than you thought. You'd need to find your old winter coat. 

—

Seventh grade

Seokmin grows into his role of a theatre kid effortlessly, there's almost never a day his laughter isn’t heard bouncing through the halls. Something like the social CPU of the grade he manages to seamlessly fit himself everywhere. He also shoots up like a sprout of bamboo - his growth spurt catching him plenty of attention from interested classmates as well.

 He goes by Dk now, though the first time you called him that he had cringed. Call me Seokmin, he insisted, I like it when you call me that. His mother had cooed over it, but you couldn’t help but feel a little lonely, despite his arms winding around you as you cuddled on the couch. (Is it so bad I call you like all your friends? You had wanted to ask so badly, but you smiled. Sure, you said instead.)

Despite not walking home together anymore - Seokmin still insists on trying to find you during your shared lunch period. (He had tried once upon a time, to ask you why you didn’t want to hold hands in public anymore. You had shrugged, and said you felt too warm these days. Despite this the next time he asks you to take the plunge and press your freezing fingers to him.) Today he finds you on the stairwells - unpacking your mothers homemade meal. 

“Y/n!” He sings, tones bright and like bird song on a pleasant day. It's no wonder he was so popular in the theatre, his voice was like a diamond. Gentle, gentle, always gentle Seokmin - it's starting to tear you apart at the seams. Quietly you unwrap his favorite - and toss it to him as he sits down next to you. Instead of taking it - he leans over to rest his forehead against yours, for just a moment to soak up your presence. “I missed you.” Did you miss me? He murmurs with a volume so minute you had to strain to understand him. 

You ponder over the silent question a bit, poking your fork at some of the rice your mother had packed. 

“My mom still packs a portion for you everyday.” Yeah, I do. He grins as he finally takes the foil wrapped food, leaning back to devour it. Well - boys have to grow somehow - and you suppose Seokmin had never been a light eater. There's a crumb next to his lip, and without thinking you lean to wipe it off. He flashes a bright red but grins at you once he’d swallowed his bite - pleased as always. (But you had seen another girl pull this just a few days ago, and all he had done was laugh. You wonder what's so wrong with you that he can’t do the same.)

There's a thin illusion here at the stairwell - one that speaks of a reality where you and Seokmin still hide in the corners of the classroom everyday, hands clasped against the world. Where every summer you still play on the sidewalk with chalk fingerprints, and you wipe yellow on his nose and he draws pink on yours. A mimicry of the old sleepovers where you’d melt under a blanket fort into one big puddle. Instead the bell rings - and Seokmin jumps up - and reaches out his hand. It looks unfathomably cold. 

Despite this, you reach out to take it, like an addict relapsing back into old habits - and feel the permafrost under your skin tighten just a bit more. You’ll have to ask your mom where she packed your heavier jackets. It's still so, so cold outside. The next day Seokmin texts you that his bracelet broke - begging you to forgive him. You type “np” - and wonder when going to sleep has been such a slow process. 

—

Eighth Grade

During the last play of the year, Seokmin had auditioned for the main lead - and through both skill and popularity secured the role with ease. (He had visited that day un-announced bounding up to your room and wrapping himself around you - practically vibrating with glee. You’d card your fingers through his hair and share breaths with him as you laugh together in delight. He’d slept over that night, and it had been so incredibly warm. Despite this - by the time you wake up you're practically shivering.)

Where are you? The text message blinks on your phone, and you awkwardly have to waddle through the theatre doors, scooting past some disgruntled parents as you sit on the balcony. Lol, look up dude. You watch as he tilts his head towards the balcony, comically swiveling around in search of you before he finally lands on your figure. (You had asked him one day, how he keeps managing to find you in a crowd. You have the prettiest eyes I've ever seen,” he mumbled - face practically feverish. You had laughed back then, flustered and pleased - but now you wonder if it was a good thing at all.)

He bounces on the balls of his feet, eye twinkling and a grin breaking out on his face so wide you half-worry it might rip him in half- waving with both hands until his phone falls from his grip like a fool. His friends laugh at him from the sides of the stage, and suddenly you don’t want to be seen. You take the time to sit down and hide as he chases after it, and close your eyes in hopes he won’t be able to find you again. 

The layers wrapping around you don’t provide you any protection from the cold that floods your system every time you see him on stage. He’s so bright, and so so good - and so far away these days you can't feel him at all. 

Afterwards, he finds you on your way out - panting and clinging onto you. He must have run to you - instead of celebrating with his fellow theatre friends. Somehow, it makes you a little warm - despite how selfish the notion is. There's sweat soaking through his costume onto your skin - and you fool yourself for just a little, into thinking he never left. Despite the wide hallway, the world feels small right now. 

He presses his cheek to your neck, nosing along your shoulder for some sort of comfort you can’t give him - so you reach up to hug him instead. It's not completely unlike an affectionate pet whose owner had just returned from work. It’s almost intimate, you think. 

“Did I do good?” Did you like it? He whispers into your neck - still practically draped over you in search for affection. He presses into you like a dog - unconditional devotion that has never known a world outside of their favorite person's opinion. It leaves you bright pink and flustered, and suddenly his touch practically burns through you. 

Floundering a bit, out of some sort of desperate desire to comfort him, to stop the search that was making you knees buckle - you press your lips to his cheek in a chaste kiss. He tenses, before melting completely - and before your nerves can get the better of you, you whisper back. 

“You did so well, Seokmin.” Of course I did. When he finally pulls away - he pulls just so he can touch his forehead to yours again. Before anything else can be said, a burst of “DK” comes through the doors - and you rip yourself away despite how cold it is without him. (You ignore the whimper that wrenches itself from your friend's throat, and the devastated eyes he casts at you as you turn away.) “Go celebrate with your friends, I’ll see you later.”

Don’t be selfish, you repeat in your head let him grow Y/n. On your rush out, you don’t notice your bracelet getting snagged on the door until it rips - and you're too far away to see Seokmin’s expression as he watches them spill over the floor.

—

Summer after freshman year

Over the summer you’d stopped replying to Seokmin texts, unable to stomach the sight of his begging. Please answer me, he begs I don’t know what I did but I’m so sorry. Please, please can we talk? You mute him after the fourth or fifth time he tries to reach out - too emotionally exhausted to keep up. Sometimes you wish you’d never met him, sometimes you wish you could have stayed young forever. 

Despite your turmoil, his social media is filled with his new friends coloring in each gap and cranny you once saw yourself in. You delete the app after his last story, where a pretty girl had planted a soft kiss on his cheek. You’d genuinely gotten a bit nauseous after that - and had huddled up in your room for hours. He looks happy, you think, he looks grown. 

Your mom worries over your constant need for layers these days, but you insist you're just a little chilly, that's all. As you wander your room, you can’t help but think your arm feels a bit naked without the worn beaded string wrapped around it. Maybe you grew out of that too.You need to grow up too, it can’t only be Seokmin moving on. It's hard getting out of bed these days, unseen weight on your ankles chaining you down, but you power through. You wonder if this is what growing up feels like. 

School is a bit monotonous, but you make new friends - Seokmin stares in a new play, daily life continues like you never even met. You laugh with a new face at lunch, exchange numbers and visit some movies on Sunday. Seokmin posts a few more stories of his new role - and blurry pictures of some sort of house party. Like you don’t have memories of the boy dancing across the stage under a blanket fort, trying to meld himself together in the middle of the heat. You find your hand twitches whenever he’s too near, so you take to avoiding his visage as well. 

Winter has turned into your favorite season, and only for the fact that it's easy to disguise the growing ice replacing your blood as the effects of cold weather. Your parents seem relieved somehow - as if an alternative explanation could cure you. (It wouldn’t, but you don’t have the heart to tell them summer will never be yours again.) You learn to start living in your room instead. Abandoned pages of homework splay over your desk, clothes strewn across the room in a messy attempt to find some floor space. 

It's an organized chaos, but you like it better this way these days. It creates a visual noise you miss, like if you look up there would be someone to smile back at you. You're sure one day the cold will turn into nothingness again. The time will pass anyways, your limbs will grow, your figures changing, there's no way it could have been the two of you forever. 

—

Sophomore year

The static is practically burning him, overworking his heart until his blood boils in his veins - the sting of still missing you drives him to practical insanity. His phone blinks once again - and his unread messages glare at him. Please, just look at me. Just once - at least let me know  you can still see me. Seokmin stares despondent at his last texts - no longer confident his numbed fingers can hit the right keys. The static had gotten worse since you left - his therapist told him to try and use grounding techniques but nothing quite works as well as you do. 

His friends are concerned, they say he’s going through a rough time, they say he’ll bounce back - but Seokmin isn’t even sure a hard knock to the head could help him. Sometimes in his dreams you're still next to him, your touch quieting his anxiety again. He can see how your eyes sparkle, how your smile still bares all your teeth when you get excited about something. (The night he couldn't dream of your eye color he cried, inconsolable for hours - wondering if he prayed to god enough, that this would pass.)

He misses you, he wonders when you decided he wasn’t fit for your time. The past year had been a game of catch up for him - maybe if he got better grades, was more sociable, maybe if he was more handsome or the main lead in the next play. Like an awkward tightrope, he seemed destined to fall. What would get you to look at him again? His friends say he has a one track mind - but he thinks they just don’t know him well enough, because it's always been about you. 

He had never imagined he’d be a sophomore in high school without you - without the bubble of your presence for him to dip into. If I get on my knees and beg enough, he wonders, will you take me back? It's a useless thought, one he’d never be able to tell anyone but the small plate of blue beads on his bedside table, mixing with yours. (He had spent the rest of that night on the floor, searching painstakingly for each bead that had ripped from your wrist. While his classmates had been celebrating he had crawled on all fours in an attempt to find all the letters he’d spelt for you. He had been wanting to restore it to give it back to you, but found every time he touched them he’d cry.)

The metal taste of blood fills his mouth, and he can vaguely feel the sting of a split lip dance across his nerves. He must have bitten it at some point, but he can’t find himself to care.  He doesn't know how much longer he can survive like this. Without you. He thinks he might even be dead where he stands. (Really it was only a matter of time, until he was just the boy in the back of the class - crying out all over again.)

—

The summer before junior year

“Honey! Come down, your friend is here!” Your mothers chiding voice flies through the house, but you can only tamper down your confusion at the unexpected request. You hadn’t invited anyone over - much less today, had you? Quickly you slip on some slippers and a fuzzy cardigan to stave off the remaining cold as you exit the refuge of your blankets. 

Shuffling down the hall, you take a curious peek into the family room and freeze upon the sight of the school's heartthrob, DK, smiling bashfully at your parents as he sits politely on the couch. Panic sets in quickly, striking like lightning up your bones, but your father catches you before you can run away. Awkwardly you teeter forward, eyes to the ground as your stomach caves into itself. 

“You haven't invited him over in a while, always so busy that one. If you're going to watch movies, keep that door open huh?” His jovial tone flings daggers into your side, and you flush with humiliation not at the insinuation - but at the reveal that you haven't told your parents about the break up at all. Oh he’s just busy with his new play, you’d brush off we still talk. You can feel his stare and can only wonder what he’s thinking, and suddenly he’s off the couch and offering his hand to you. 

“I have a list we can go through,” he says carefully (gentle, gentle, gentle, always gentle - your Seokmin), and waits through your hesitation to grasp your hand. You don’t have the confidence to intertwine your fingers, so he does it for you. You lead him to your room on autopilot, on principle of not allowing your parents a peek into your crumbling social life. 

“It's a little messy,” you warn, awkwardly standing before your room, before cracking open the door. Quick humiliation sets in, striking up your body in a shudder, God, you should have at least picked up the clothes. Silently, Seokmin takes in your room - eyes scanning up every nook and cranny as if he was reading something - before sitting himself on the floor and gesturing to your bed. 

“Let's talk.” His voice is deeper than you remember, but it sounds the same as the last time you’d talked. Your heart is beating in your throat, and despite how you try to swallow it the dryness in your throat scratches it up instead. His voice is still just as soft for you. You shuffle around him, giving a wide berth of area until you reach your bed and curl up defensively near the wall. 

Dk stays quiet for a moment - but you know he’s just thinking. The way he clenches his jaw, and his eyes flip around is the tell tale sign. You have memories of minutes spent just waiting for him to collect his words. But he never gets them out, at least until you softly prompt it out of him. You suppose he still has difficulty starting conversations - or at least - only when it comes to you. 

“Ok,” you murmured in assent. “What's the topic DK?” At the name his eyes flick up to you and a pursed look comes about his face before it passes just as quickly. A conflicted look if anything. The air is charged with an anxiety, crackling at your skin, threatening to electrocute you until your body is nothing but ash. You're not sure what you're expecting, maybe for him to yell, to grab you by your shoulders and shake you violently and demand why you so suddenly cut him out. But your Seokmin would never.

Instead there’s a tense moment, before his quiet voice rings out again. 

“You haven't told your parents.” no you haven't. Instead of answering you nod. His head tilts down, and you can only make out the clench of his jaw. (How do you know when I’m about to cry? Seokmin asks one day on the playground. You had smiled cheekily at him. Cause that's the only time you won’t look me in the eye.)

Lee Seokmin is crying, in your bedroom - kneeling on the floor, and with a rapidly developing crescendo. He hiccups violently, rapid and useless breaths tearing through his lungs, torso jerking as if it was trying to separate from himself. His head lowers further before you can stop him, until he's practically bowing in front of you, clutching at the ground with white knuckles. 

“Dk?? Seokmin I-” You scramble forward - body jerking awake in snapshots as rusted instincts demand you come off your bed and hold him. To touch his cheek, to press his head against the juncture of your neck and shoulder and hold him there. 

“I’m sorry,” he wails - reaching out like a child to take a soft grip on your leg as you finally swing off your bed. It traps you - not allowing you near or far. “I’m so so sorry, I don’t know what I did but please, please let me fix it I can - “ his breathing status “I can fix it, i can i can so please just - “. His voice sputters out into a crack, and his grip loosening so he can wail against the floor. “What did I do, please tell me. I’ll repent, I’ll do anything just - just talk to me again. Look at me, please don’t leave me alone.” I can’t live without you, I think I’ve been dying, if I'm not already dead. 

His spine curves into himself, like a child who still needs to be supported by their head - too weak to even survive on their own. Not yet strong enough to be ripped from their mothers caress, or a dog curled up at their owner's bed waiting for him to come home. “Let me come home,” he begs, “I’ll do anything.” Without his grip, you successfully make it off the bed - slipping close to him on the floor. His cuticles are torn - staining your carpet but you hardly care. 

(There's a boy at the edge of the classroom, collapsed on the ground as he rips his cuticles into shreds. He has glazed eyes and you can’t help but think, he needs a friend. )

Instead you take his torn hands in your own, and press them to your lips - and wait for him to watch you again. Deep breathes, easy to follow, you tilt your head slightly to press his fingers to your pulse point so he can feel your steady heart beat. Like always, he copies you - eyes transfixed on whatever he always found so fascinating. The ritual is the same, breathe - pulse, eye contact, and then when you finally open your arms for a hug he falls into you, crashing down as a tidal wave. 

Nothing about this boy had changed, you were wrong. Somehow, outside of your sight, along the way he had managed to simply grow into the tallest gentle child you’d ever seen. He snuffles into your shirt wetly, and you pet his hair in consultation. You can feel the drowsy warmth of spring begin to peak in your bones. 

(Still so pretty, Seokmin thinks as you lead him through his panic - the static begging to burble at the base of his neck, draining down his spine. You’ve changed during the time you’d been apart. Your taller, more grown into features he’d only been able to glimpse at in the halls. But your eyes still hold the world in them. Slowly but in sure waves the static releases, until he’s limp in your hold. Exactly where he had always meant to be.)

“I’m sorry too,” you whisper to his hair, feeling his nose along your collarbones and sniffle quietly. “I..” you lick your lips, contemplating how best to phrase your thought process. As always the best way out is honesty. “I thought you were growing up, and - and when you're on stage you're a whole different boy.” You pause “When you're not with me you're someone confident, loud enough to be heard.” You found your voice, and I was stifling it. His arms slide around your waist and grip you with an intensity you’d almost forgotten. He doesn't speak, silently urging you to finish, 

God. The guilt was starting to eat at you, like a virus mutating your own body against you. “I just thought that you needed space to grow up. If I held onto your warmth any longer I’d stunt you but Seokmin,” You grip his hair lightly with shaking fingers and pull it so he looks at you. “It's so cold without you. I think - can you forgive me too?” His lips wobble, and you let him bury his face to your chest again. A cry baby to the end, is the fond thought that flies by.  

You're burning alive in his grip - you can practically feel the sun itself baking you alive in his embrace. It's the best you’ve felt in years. In response you quietly search for his hands, and intertwine your fingers again, stitching yourself together with an imaginary red thread. It's quiet again, just your heart beats combining into one for a while. 

“You make me nervous,” he murmurs, but before you can over think he speaks again. “Since the first time I saw you I thought you were the prettiest, you are the prettiest person I’ve ever seen.” He moves, gripping the bottom of your thighs to gently toss you onto your bed, before crawling on top of you to reclaim his position. It's comfortable, a bit like how you’d use to fall asleep at sleepovers. You're both layed out, his head resting on your stomach so you can hear the vibrations of his words. “And when I saw you in your family room, all I could think was how could you still be so - so pretty after all these years.” 

“Seokmin - “ 

“You don’t have to answer me now, or ever but I , I just wanted you to know it's not that. That you stopped me from growing.” He heaves himself up - until his lips just hover above yours. When had his shoulders gotten so wide? “Anyone would act a little differently in front of the person they’ve loved for 10 years right?” The air leaves your lungs in a gust, and your heart is threatening to bleed out right there - all for the boy with red teary eyes. 

Tenderly,  he takes your hand and places it against his cheek, and quietly leans down to connect your lips. His lips are the warmest thing you've felt since the sun 10 summers ago. 

—

Senior year

It's easy to fall back into each other, to fall in love with each other, so easy that you feel foolish for ever having left. Seokmin takes the initiative to wait for you after your classes, and hold your hands to the next one, swinging them widely until your laughter rings next to his. When you have the time, you stop by his rehearsals with a small packed bento of food, and without fail he grins, swinging you around and placing a wet kiss to your lips. You pretend to wipe it off as he whines about cruelty.

You don’t even wipe off dog spit, don’t you think wiping off boyfriend kisses are a little cruel? At the term boyfriend he flushes red at his own words, flopping down to giggle apparently flustered. You can only watch him with a bemused smile. It's all new, the kisses, the official label, the way he parades you around as if you're the best gift the world will ever give anyone. It's all the same, the touches, the warmth, the tamped down static in the presence of your hand in his. The blanket forts and bootleg play’s blasting throughout them. 

Despite your new status, the only rule your parents enforce during sleepovers is that the door stays open. Childhood sweetheart privileges, Seokmin jokes. Seokmin privileges, you answer seriously. Tonight you hide under thin sheets and heavy comforters as another play begins to start off the queue. Seokmin is diligently working on something, glasses on and eyebrows furrowed as you instead choose to scroll through your phone. Despite this your thighs press together as if glued. 

“Your classmate just applied for college,” you murmur - her proud smile next to her application process open on the laptop next to her glowing across your screen. Seokmin hums in absent acknowledgment, pausing only long enough to catch your eye and give you a cheesy smile. You lean over quickly to smack a loud wet kiss to your cheek that he playfully groans at. 

“Where are you thinking of going?” It's innocent enough - but the question sits awkwardly on your chest. There's nothing you can find yourself truly passionate about - so you can only offer him a useless shrug. He takes it as he always does, simply pausing a bit to kiss your knuckles and resuming his work. 

“You?” He hums again.

“I want to major in theatre - I like it. On the stage it's like,” he pauses “like there's an endless road that I can create for myself. For the ones watching me, for those who work to get me up there.” Of course it's aspirational - everything Seokmin does is. “But I don’t think I have a specific college in mind, you know?” 

“Maybe we could go to the same college,” you half joke, only to feel your boyfriend jerk in surprise. He finally abandons whatever he’d been working on, but before you can get a clear look he's grabbed you by the shoulders and rolled to face you in excitement. 

“Really?” His eyes sparkle a bit, startling you into almost taking it back before you can bite your tongue. You ponder it. College with Seokmin, probably would consist of him going off more - branching out more - you having to learn to get a life. It could be more though, like a future with the sun just behind the hilltop. 

“Sure,” you smile, wobbly but with conviction. The thought of it still scares you, but you’d do it for him. “Together then.”

Your eyelids are heavy, each blink a little harder to open then the last until you find yourself resting on his shoulder. Your boyfriend quietly moves, being careful to jostle you, until you're cushioned to his body, between his legs, face pressed firmly to his chest. You can feel his lips on your head, pressing a kiss, before he intertwines your fingers again - and the snap of an elastic beaded bracelet rolls onto your wrist. You already have the energy to peek an eye open - to see an intricate sunflower bracelet resting there. You press a lazy kiss to his cheek, muttering your thanks as you finally drift to sleep. 

It takes you 3 weeks to give something in return back to him, a light blue beaded bracelet, held together by embroidery threads. In the very middle are the words “my seokmin”, and when you put it on his wrist he practically glows. 

—

The summer before college

You move in with each other freshman year of college - deciding to omit the freshman dorms all together. Your parents are blowing their nose and telling you to give them a warning before the grandchild comes. (Seokmin practically faints at the insinuation.) Despite the fanfare, they leave with nothing but trust in you both. You practically already lived together your mom sighed, what's college against the two of you? When the night comes he wraps around you as you lounge on the couch, bracelets clacking together as his fingers slip through your own. 

You're warm and overly content to be one person, just for the night before the whirlwind of college pries you into two again. The air conditions prevent the familiar sticky bind of sweat the summer usually provides- but you'd long since realized nothing could stop your boyfriend's mission to become one. 

“Let's have a summer wedding ,baby,” he murmurs - cheek squished against your chest and eyes heavy with sleep. “You hate the cold.”

Author's note: Haven't written in a year, and despite my shaky technique I had enough svt brain rot to power me through.

[mirtola87]

I feel like the first "I forgive you" and the second "I forgive you" are different "I-forgive-yous" (or maybe not)

What else "I forgive you" may mean (one year later) — Good Omens Season 1 and 2 parallel

Ok, I know I'm 1 year late to the party and I don't know if this has already been pointed out, but it came across my mind like a lightning this morning, and now I just can't stop thinking about it. We know there are lots of parallel scenes through GO Season 1 and 2, and that we have two "I forgive you" moments. The first "I forgive you" makes utterly sense: Crowley just offended Aziraphale, and he replies with "I forgive you" (despite the demon had said just a few scenes before "Unforgivable is what I am").

The "I forgive you" in S2 left us all stuck in despair, trying to figure out why Aziraphale would have to say that just after their 6000-year-long awaited kiss.

First of all, I want to make clear that I believe this answer is totally in-character: I forgive you for kissing me while leaving me on my own when I most needed you, I forgive you for not believing that we can make a difference together, I forgive you because you are not unforgivable and I'm not giving up on you, I forgive you because forgiveness is love, it's a gift—"forgive" literally translates the Latin verb "perdonare" (per=for + donare=give) and also means "to give without conditions"... and the list goes on and on. I recommend this @sendarya's analysis which I found really accurate and on point, check it out if you haven't already: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NOvv0GkMBA8&t=34s

Nevertheless, there may be a second layer of meaning. Let's go back to S1 for a moment. Aziraphale finds the Antichrist, but he chooses not to tell Crowley during the bandstand scene: he wants to sort it out on his own. Later, when Crowley comes to the bookshop to apologize, he just tells him that he wants to talk to God to thwart Apocalypse, which triggers Crowley's "You're so clever! How can someone as clever as you be so stupid?". So let's recap what happens: 1) Aziraphale knows something he isn't telling Crowley and has a plan; 2) Crowley offers Aziraphale to go off together, but Aziraphale refuses because he wants to save Earth; 3) Crowley offends Aziraphale: "How can someone as clever as you be so stupid?"; 4) Aziraphale says "I forgive you"; 5) Crowley leaves (let alone calling Aziraphale again 5 minutes later).

Later, after discorporating and failing in his attempt to reach God, Aziraphale realizes that the only way to thwart Apocalypse is "our side", so he appears to a drunk and devastated Crowley to reveal him that the Antichrist is in Tadfield, and they arrange to meet there. We may assume that, after the Armageddon't, they talked of what happened, and Aziraphale may have told Crowley that he already knew where the boy was during the bandstand meeting; anyway, Crowley saw Aziraphale acting mysteriously and keeping his secrets: he said he wanted to talk with God to sort things out, but nothing more. Crowley knew that there was something his angel wasn't telling him, and that he had a plan. Now let's see what happens in S2: 1) Aziraphale knows something he isn't telling Crowley (he doesn't reveal Metatron's threats) and (hopefully) has a plan; 2) Crowley offers Aziraphale to go off together, but Aziraphale refuses because he wants to "make a difference"; 3) Crowley hurts Aziraphale: "No Nightingales. You idiot. We could have been us" (+ bonus, devastating kiss); 4) Aziraphale says "I forgive you"; 5) Crowley leaves the bookshop... but he just waits across the street, until Aziraphale takes the lift with the Metatron.

Ok, nice parallel so far. But what am I trying to say with that? I think that perhaps—just as "Trust me"—"I forgive you" may have come to acquire a second, coded meaning: "There's something I'm not telling you, but I have a plan". One more, desperate attempt of our angel to tell something to his demon without anyone else noticing, as he knows that the Metatron is watching. Crowley waiting by the Bentley is a way to show his angel he's not giving up on him, but maybe also to let him know he got his message.

So, do what you want with this, now I can go on with my day despite the brainrot (maybe).

[ywpd-translations]

Ride 782: The winner's parade!!

Pag 1

1: So... shall we fly?

Pag 2

4: Huh....

Huh!?

5: What's that blackboard that they showed out of that car just now?

Yeah, it's the signboard. In road races, they write the results of the race progress on that board like that to inform the other cyclists

Pag 3

1: Like, who won the “sprint” or the “mountain” and the time difference....!!

The first place...

Who's that!? Number 181?

Where is he from? Gunma!?

2: And the group behind changes its shape based on that information, just like a living thing!

Is it their debut?

Ah?

Someone like that took the first result?

What about Hiroshima!?

No but who is he! That number 181!!

3: What about Kagoshima and Kumadai!?

4: Nagoya, too

5: I mean, wait, that's not the point

Sohoku and Hakoaku should have been ahead too

6: It can't be

That guy...

Competed against those two

Pag 4

1: He defeated Hakogaku and Sohoku and took the sprint line!!

Pag 5

2: It was so hard.... but

I did it

Waaa.... I'm so happy, yon

3: Amazing!

I've never seen that jersey before!

Gunmaaa

4: I'm from Gunma!

Amazing!

Nice!

Pag 6

1: I'm so happy to hear the cheers...!!

2: Well then

3: To answer the cheers

5: Ready... set

6: What's number 181 doing

He bent forward, what is he doing!?

Is he accelerating!?

7: Hayaaa

Pag 7

1: Thank you-chai

It's a wheelie!!

Pag 8

1: Amaziing, it's the first time I see a wheelie during a race!

What's that!? It's amazing, he's only running on the rear wheel!

It's a service wheelie!!

What an amazing sense of balance!

He's waving his hand this way!

2: Ohhh he's super cool, though

He's incredible

3: He's not only strong but also cool!! He's the best...

Yoriko, shoot a video

4: He's doing a wheelie!!

Wooo!! Taa-kun, that guy you know is too cool

5: I just became a fan!

Number 181!! From now on more and more people will cheer for him

People who come to watch road racing are always looking for it!!

Pag 9

1: For an overwhelming newcomer!!

4: Dammit!!

Dammit!!

Pag 10

2: Idiot

Idiot

Idiot

3: Are you kidding me

What am I doing

What am I doing!!

4: What!!

5: I did!! Everything I could think of to become stronger, to become faster!!

Pag 11

1: Aaaaaagh dammit!!

3: I practiced... I practiced until I collapsed...

I lost last year....

4: And this year too!? What do I need to fix? Ah?

7: There's nothing to improve anymore!!

Pag 12

2: Stop screwing around, what “newcomer”

3: It's several times harder for someone to keep winning....!!

4: Even though that day

5: I

6: Watch me, Izumida-san, I'll definitely take the colored bib!!

Pag 13

1: I'll look forward to it

2: I promised....!!

3: This year I got the number “4”

In Hakone Academy it represents the ace sprinter

How important and heavy

4: is the role of the number “4” bib

5: That victory would have been a moral pillar for the team!!

6: I even changed my orders for this, and this is the outcome...!!

7: I had to win even if it meant to use up all my trump cards!!

Pag 14

2: I should have cornered him perfectly and shut him off...

4: Was I too naive somewhere?

5: No, there was no problem with you

Even from my point of view you ran well and had the perfect timing, Orange

6: San-na...!!

Pag 15

1: It must be frustrating for you too

You're a third year.... so this was your last first sprint

2: I guess you were aiming for two consecutive victories, since it's even harder to continue winning

3: Orange....!!

4: But don't worry

I promise myself

5: I will definitely not let that guy do as he wishes from now on!!

6: I'll be the one who will take the sprint line on the second and third day!! Leave it to me!!

Pag 16

2: No, I'll take them!!

3: Stop screwing around, why does it seem like I'll only finish the first result!?

Am I wrong?

Don't underestimate Hakogaku!

Ah... well, then, shall we race then?

Don't take it lightly!!

4: Hahaha but I'm an all-rounder, so I should have a job on the mountain, too!!

6: Is he joking!? Or should I correct him!?

7: H...uh? Yeah....

Let's just let it go...!!

Pag 18

1: The running order has changed!!

Gunma, who took the sprint, went ahead and is pulling the pack!!

2: I've never seen something like this

It's their debut, isn't it? Is this okay!?

3: If you take the sprint then you have to go in the front and pull – what kind of rule does road racing have? Isn't it too difficult?

4: It seems like it isn't a rule, Sonomoto-san

It's like they concede control

5: Kiji-saaan!!

Wooah, you were amazing, fou!! Kiji-san!! Everyone, follow me!!

Ichifuji is the only one who's pulling with so much energy

Pag 19

2: Doubashi-san....!!

3: Doubashi-san being defeated at the sprint is a big deal,isn't it?

That Kiji guy

4: If there's a chance to race him, please give me the order, Joe-san

No wait, you're the ace....

5: I'll crush him

Pag 20

1: Ahhh, ahhhh

2: We lost, teh.....!! What should we do!?

Kaburagi-san and Danchiku-san have.....!!

3: It's not a big deal

Since in road racing you don't have to retire just because you lost one of the midway races

4: But still, this isn't good!!

Yeah!!

5: Kaburagi-kun and Danchiku-kun lost...!!

6: Kiji-kun....!!

Pag 21

2: Puku...

He controlled it....

3: Gunma's Kiji controlled the sprint... ohh

4: What should I do?

Crush him quickly?

6: Or maybe.... make friends with him?

Puku....

Make friends!!

[clemelntine]

The Heart killers ep 11 stray thoughts

With accompanying screenshots, cuz I take to many and they can't just go to waste

Once again/still Keen just wants to be included. Now that he has seen Lilly will never see him as equel to his brothers, he is trying to get validation from Bison and Fadel.

Right, cuz you look like you're good at that. We will just pretend that we haven't seen your backbone turn into jelly when you're around Captain

Wait, so they didn't kill him. Where has he been this whole time, in between staging his murder and this scene? Was he just chilling with Nont in Fadel and Bisons kidnapping lair (which they apparently have).

He just knows a guy, casual .

He also just has a whole plan planned out. You'd think he was the one with the training in this shit, not Fadel

The look of concern in his eyes. Because of course, Style was able to spot the slight change in Fadels expression, indicating he was upset/weary/uncomfortable.

Doesn't he say younger brother (nong chai/shai [im not sure how it is written]) here, why would they translate it like that, this makes it seem like he doesnt see Fadel as his brother.

Finally somebody is giving that tattoo the love it deserves.

Facts

Also the first time (or one of the rare occasions) that we see Fadel with genuine, borderline crazy/psychotic anger in his eyes. He's usually the one to be more calm and

Oh, they're using their height, narrowing in on her, forcing her to look up, making her feel small. Stunning, just what she deserves.

-I love you so much; I'd give up my freedom for your safety

-I love you so much; I'd give up my life for your freedom.

Also, btw, 5 years of prison for the number of murders they committed, thats pretty nice. Of course, i wanted them to be free, but looking at it logistically, that is a solid deal

It does imply a timeskip, whomp whomp

Just give me a clear yes or no. Is Bison religious (christian, to be specific)? Cuz this is just a saying and stuff, but also putting it next to all the other christian Bison stuff we've seen, im starting to believe it

Ah, look at that. Fadel got his family (parent), and Bison got his little brother (Babe). These boyfriends are adding way more to their life then you would first assume.

Also, Styles dad immediately suggesting they get married as soon as he realizes they are genuinely dating it ao cute. He has/knows as lil casual-/subtlety as Style does. I guess it's genetic

Omg they are so sweet. Not hiding/secret but private cuz its their communication, their comfort.

I needed this scene to be like an hour long actually, just them cleaning each other with the garden hose, sweetly talking about whatever.

Right. I'm not surprised, I could tell Style was a bitter but like looking at his and Joongs laugh afterwards (and just the absurd inconvenience of it) I'm gonna guess this wasn't scripted, just Dunk. Which.. raises some questions, but we'll keep moving.

Dude was straight up beefing with a child

So he is either assuming hell die a natural death or he's killing himself. Cus i assumed he'd probably die on the job, get killed by someone, but that for sure requires there to be another person. I guess he could also be insinuating that when he dies, he'll be alone in the sense that he is leaving no one behind, no loved ones.

Idk what is sadder him thinking no one would love him when he died or him assuming he'll die by his own hand.

Are they at a graveyard? It doesn't look like it. Because, im not very educated on Thai law, but i can't think it would be legal to just bury someone wherever.

Style earlier the episode saying he'll die for Fadel(s safety) and Fadel saying he'll live for (/with) Style. God, i love them

Glad we are at least acknowledging the absurdity of it.

Are we talking (/joking) about Bison lactating? Cuz that would make that this shows second mpreg/omegaverse reference.

Forever watchfull Style

Forever considerate Style. Even with the garage to work at (and low key co-run) he is willing to give up time, just to keep Fadels dream/passion alive

Did Style fucking make a heart out of the sauce?! Why didn't we get a better shot of that, that is so cute.

So all the other boys his dad mentioned were just one night stands and situationships. Fadel was the first guy he actually wanted to settle down with. (Also, dont take this to mean anything, but it kinda mirrors Joong and Dunk. Joong having had an acting partner before Dunk, but splitting up under unfortunate circumstances, mostly out of their hands. Joong being Dunks' first actor partner, only having had a small unnamed guest role before working together with Joong)

Ive never seen to guys look so sad while eating burgers , like it was actually making me emotional. Cuz there was no big sad outburst or anything, just the everpresent underlying knowledge that this will be the last meal they'll get to share in a long time. Just the subtle sadness in their eyes and the little sniffles. I low key didnt expect them to be this good at conveying such subtle yet intense emotions.

The look in their eyes, i am actually so not okay

Not to be critical or anything but no way in shit that was done by an amateur. Like i get he'd have a pretty steady hand due to his training with guns. Bit not only does Bison usually hold his gun with both hands, it is an entirely different grip and requires such different muscles.

Yo wtf, I wasn't prepared for an emotional scene of just Kant and Style crying

This episode was just so full of cute scenes omg. I have so many notes that are just screenshots of a sweet scene or moment where the only comment I had was just saying aaahhw or some shit. And although I would love to share those with you, Tumblr has an image limit, so unfortunately, this is all I could stuff into one post.

I am a lil weary/concerned with how they are going to finish this all in one episode though. Like we have five years of prison to still cover and only an hour of screentime left.

Favorite scenes

Lillys confrontation was very satisfying

Style and Fadel cleaning eachother of after the paint fight ofc

Kant and Bison in the planetarium (specifically watching the stars)

Fadel and Style at the support group talking things out

Everything in Heart Burger, from the cute cooking together to eating through tears. Absolute perfection.

Kant and Bison tattooing eachother and just the sweetness of that all

And although their goodbye and Kant and Style crying in eachothers arms wasn't fun, it was a really good scene.

Also, there are no in-depth screenshot stats today (this post has already taken too long). Just know I took a total of 245 screenshots (funfact: that is actually more picture than I have of myself on my phone)

[ray935sworld]

Child of divorce

Chapter 5: Italian delusions

Whole AU

"You can't actually be serious" Dani said as he stared at Vale. It had been 3 years now since the accusation and everything started. Dani had assumed he had heard everything now but this - this was something he couldn't accept. He refused to accept it.

"No, no. No. I'm sure of it." the Italian said. "You're - Vale, you accused my husband of having slept with Marc." he said in a serious tone.

He was very serious about everything that happened. He remembered seeing the public accusations against Jorge and feeling how his breath was stuck in his throat for a second.

He didn't believe it. He trusted Jorge blindly. He knew he would never do anything to destroy them and what they had no matter how much self sabotaging and insecurity of Jorge they had to face at the begging.

Years of a love, a child and a marriage had made Dani know Jorge inside and out. So he was confident to say that whatever the article was referring to was a lie.

Not even for a second he had considered it a real possibility, but reading the love of your life allegedly slept with someone else was still a pang to the heart.

It was gone after seeing Jorge panicking sprinting down to him and immediately bursting out "I swear I have never and will never sleep with Marc. Or any Marquez. Or any other man. Or woman. Or person in general! I have never and will never sleep with anyone except you! My husband! Who I love dearly and completly and so much that it makes me look like an idiot"

"It is not my fault you look like an idiot." he shot back with a rich laugh. "Your taste in fashion is doing that on its own already" he watched Jorge's shoulder fall in relief before he leaned down and kissed him "I love you" "Love you too, sweetheart"

Dani bit his lip as he stared at the Italian. He really much wanted to punch the older man. But he had to get to the bottom of this. All of this had stopped making sense the moment he found Marc with tears in his eyes infront of his motorhome sobbing that Vale had left him.

Him and David.

That was the moment Dani had lost the train of thoughts of the Italian completely. He had heard that the two were hitting a rough path. But Dani and Jorge had passed through so many by now that overcoming the pressure a championship battle bought seemed minor.

That was until Marc was a crying mess in his arms, sobbing about Vale calling David a bastard. And then the public accusation followed. Everything just seemed to be getting worst.

He had wanted to give Vale a piece of his mind back then. He was ready to rip him a new one and he would have - But it was Marc, pleading and crying not to confront Vale. Claiming it would just make everything worse, Dani had taken himself back. But now Vale was dragging Jorge - his husband, his family - into this. And that was enough to not stand by any longer.

So now they were here.

"You accused the father of my child to have betrayed me and our baby." Dani stated plainly. "You risked taking my sons father away. You are publicly accusing him of all this. Are you even slightly aware what panic you caused him? You damn well know that the public isn't excatly nice to him, you asshole. So why are you throwing him unnecessary to the wolf?"

He watched Vale gather his thoughts, clearly taking everything in. It took him a few seconds. But eventually he took a deep sign. He looked at the younger rider with a very serious expression.

"Dani, you are very dear to me. I appreciate our friendship and I am sorry that he keeps lying to you. They should be honest with us and just confess-" "I swear to God I will break your nose if you keep spilling that crap" "It's not crap!" "It is!"

Dani felt a little bit like he was arguing with his son. Except even Pedro could understand and see reason.

"Listen, Vale-" Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. He told himself. He needed to get to the bottom of this. "Why do you think David is not your biological son?"

"I- Fucking hell, Dani! Come on, you're one of the smart ones! Don't tell me you can't see it?" "Explain it to me." "Well first off, he was acting weird. Like this whole fucking time! And he was always hanging around you, Jorge, Dovizioso. Especially after a podium and stuff. He was way too close and touchy. Oh and with the Espargabros! Especially that Pol guy. They definitely had something going on."

Dani internally praid that whatever God was the right one would give him enough strength to this conversation.

"So you are telling me - a rookie and then newly crowned, pregant baby champion, that had a kid at 20 with literally his childhood hero, all while continuing to keep being on top in literally one of the most elite and dangerous sports in the world, was not acting like any other normal, rational human being? Because everyone else of us is 'normal'?"

He stared at him, hoping that the indicatory in his voice were everything Vale needed to realize what the younger Spaniard was trying to point to.

An excited nod later, Dani had to discover that he couldn't be more wrong.

"And because he was enjoying some time with his coworkers and making jokes, hugging them - he definitely slept with them?" "Yes! See?! Now you get it."

He stared at Vale, trying to remember that Jorge had made it a strict point to raise Pedro without violence. And he was sure that even if Pedro wasn't present right now, his husband would include smashing someone's head against a table in that statement.

"Okay, look-" he said, taking out a few pictures. He had to change tactics. He had hoped that he didn't had to use but well. "That's Pedro when he was 4 years old." "Very cute" "Thank you. David is around the same ago now."

He put another picture on the table only for Vale to scoff and take it in his hand. He turned it around and put it down. The picture of David, smiling happily in the camera was now facing the table, impossible for them to see.

Dani started at the gesture for a second then took the next photo out. "That's Jorge when he was 5. As you can see, he and Pedro look very similar-" He turned David's picture around, this time keeping his hand on it, to make sure Vale couldn't avoid facing his son even if it was just on paper.

"But Jorge and David look nothing a like. There are no similarities. No shared features. He looks completly different because they don't have matching DNA. Because they are not related."

"I am sure Marquez has whored enough around that he maybe even sure himself who the father is." "Now you're just straight up being rude." he shot back. "You don't know what to say so you're being an asshole to cover it up."

Before he could get another word in, he laid out the next and last picture. This time it was one of Luca. He was looking directly at the camera, his head slightly tilted, seemingly confused. He couldn't be older than 4. Vale seemed surprised but then rolled his eyes.

"Just - Look. Your own brother has so much similarities to David. The same smile. The same freaking head shape. And eyes and nose. Both have the same face. Just like you! Now look at them and tell me you really can't see the connection!"

Vale bit his lips. He looked from one picture to the other. For the first time since everything went down he looked at David. He looked at the boy properly. It was a picture only taken recently, David at 4 years old, playing in a parc. He was smiling, laughing.

Luca had taken the picture on one of their adventures together.

Vale stared at David for a long moment. Then he looked at the picture of Luca. Vale had taken the picture on one of adventures together when he had taken his brother to the local playground.

"You're right" he silently agreed and for a moment Dani was sure he was mistaken. "They do look a like. I - Of course. It explains so much-"

His voice was picking up.

"Why Luca was so distance after 2015. Why he kept going back to that asshole and the little bastard - He is David's father!" he exclaimed and with no hesitation as if he had spoken a widely known fact.

"The fuck you just said?" Dani asked, wondering if he just had a stroke or something.

"Look at the similarities! Just like you said! Luca is his father!" "Luca - Your -" He really didn't even know what to say to that. And hearing Jorge spill the most crazy thoughts ever since they've known each other made him think he had already heard everything.

"You're aware that Luca was just over 16 when David was conceived. Right?!" "Yes! So he was easy to manipulate. Poor boy and now he is stuck as a father to-"

And with that, Vale had managed to do what Jorge until now had failed to do. He found Dani's breaking point. The point where he lost his cool and was running out of patience at once.

Around half an hour later, Jorge got a call. He smiled when he read Dani's contact name and the picture to it. It was Dani, sitting in their garden with a newborn Pedro in his arm, grinning in the camera.

"Hola mi corazon" Jorge said, his voice filled with joy. "Where are you? Our little baby is-" "AM NOT A BABY!" he heard Pedro yell from what sounded like the other end of their home.

"YOU WILL ALWAYS BE OUR LITTLE BABY!" Jorge yelled back. He heard a huffing sound, that could either mean begrudging acceptance or frustration. But since their kid wisely chose not to continue arguing, he returned to the call with Dani.

"Anyway, OUR LITTLE BABY-! is missing his papa and I'm missing my husband. Where are you?" he asked. "I miss you too. I'm sorry but I will need some more time"

"Promise me not to freak out-" But this was never a good sign. "What did you do?" he asked. The anxiety in his voice clear as day. "I'm in the hospital but-" His heart sank for a moment. He didn't like it one bit when someone said that Dani was in the hospital.

"What? Why?" Of course he knew that PR events could take longer and he wasn't even angry. After all it wasn't Dani's fault

And if someone was willing to get away from the media as soon as possible, it was him.

He never did.

Not even when they were young and reckless and idiots that didn't understand what their feeling were really like and the world was telling them to be someone they weren't.

But now -

Now Jorge was remembering that it was Dani calling. Not someone from his team or the FIM. It was Dani. He was talking. He was alright. So Jorge could use some humor.

"AGIAN?! Dani, what did you do this time? You're supposed to stay ON the bike!" he chuckled. Somewhere along the way they had discovered that joking about some things made the worries ease.

"Which hospital? We're on our way!" he asked nonetheless. In his mind he was already packing some bags, getting Pedro ready and then trying not to break every speed limit.

"Okay first off - ouch. There was no need for that 'again', alright?! Secondly... I'm not the patient. It's Vale" "Rossi? Why?" A short silence followed and Jorge grinned. If Dani hesitant to tell something, he meant a good story. So he was sure that whatever he would hear next would be pure gold of his husband got shy over it at first.

"Because... Someone..." he started slowly. "May has broken his noise." "Someone?" he asked grinning. "Yes... Someone." "And how did someone even manage to reach his nose? As far as I'm aware you'd need a chair for that"

A fake shocked gasp came from the other side of the line and Jorge just knew he would get a soft punch against his shoulder if they were face to face right now. He would watch Dani's face try to portray betray and hurt all while a smile would be cracking through until he was laughing, clearly unable to contain his giggles about his joke.

After all these years, Dani was still laughing about his bad jokes.

"You know what?! Why did I even marry you?!" he shot back and really, there was only one answer. "Because you love me?" "Naaaah" Dani said and Jorge couldn't help but laugh, knowing it was just them joking around, teasing and nagging each other like they always did.

"It's cause you got me pregnant. Knocked me up first try" he reminisced. "And now I have to deal with a hyperactive 7 year old that's missing his papa." Jorge argued back. "So whose really the victim?"

"Aweeee, poor you... Tell Pedro I love him. Give him a big kiss from me." He nodded. He would have done it anyway but he knew Dani had to say it. His voice had turned softer again, both knowing they were about to hang up.

"And who gives ME a kiss from you?" he asked playful. "I don't know. Be nice and you'll get one later." "I'll count on that." he whispered and closed his eyes. He wanted to imagine he was there with him.

"I promise to be back as soon as possible." "I know. As always." "Mmm.... I love you, Jorge" "I love you more."

Later on, Dani had told Marc about their conversation. At first the older one hadn't been sure if it might just stirr him up for nothing, but on the other hand, if anyone should be aware of how far gone he still was - it was Marc.

And he had sat there and listened. He had nodded along, trying to hide his hurt, shock visible as he heard Vale's newest theory. He was used to a lot from his ex, but this was a new high.

A wave of protection overcame him when he heard it. He couldn't overcome how easily he had been able to accuse his own brother of a betrayal like that. "Luca would never hurt Vale intentionally! Fucking hell, even when he disappointed him the most, he was still trying to help him and understand him! And he accuses him of something like that?!" he argued back, Dani nodding in agreement.

He wasn't even angry that he got accused of manipulating a minor to sleep with him, even if it was one of the most disgusting things he had ever heard. But the bar of things he'd assumed Vale would deam the truth was low.

Still, the conversation kept lingering in his mind. Even now that Luca was spending the day was them. It was one of the slow weekends during the break where he could spent all day with David. And the Italian had decided to visit to spent some time with his favorite nephew. He was his only, but Marc still smiled about it.

He wished he could smile about it now, but with Luca present, he wondered how if he had made a mistake years ago.

"You know - sometimes I regret that I gave in as quickly as I did..." Marc said as he leaned against the wall behind them.

Luca turned to him slightly. He saw the way his empty glance had returned to his face. He was still looking at the track, watching Alex chase after David to make sure the little Marquez was safe.

But it seemed like he wasn't seeing him properly. Like he saw something else. Or someone else.

"I mean... I know why I didn't." he said, more talking to himself than to the boy. "It's just that sometimes when I see David like this, I wonder what it would be like if he was here"

Luca nodded. He knew he was talking about his brother, David's father.

"It's mostly little things. We had made a promise to never let David ride unless one of us is there. And now Alex and you sometimes take him to the track without me and I wondered if Vale - the Vale that still got his mind in the right place - would be angry that I break the promise."

"I think he'd understand. The old Vale would understand." Luca replied. He felt the aif freeze for a moment. There was no reaction. Maybe he shouldn't have answered and just kept it a monolog.

"You really believe that?" Marc asked, his voive softer than expected. "Yes." "And you think he's still there? Somewhere... Deep under all the shit he's talking?" It sounded more like mockery, maybe voluntarily, maybe not.

"Yes" Luca repeated. His voice dripping with false confidence. He wanted to believe it. He really did. But it was hard when the reality was so different.

"I don't know who but someone really got in his head." he argued quickly. It had been Frankys idea. That Vale was being manipulated. The boys came up with it after someone said that Vale might be projecting. That he had been the one cheating on Marc and turned it around to not be blamed.

But Luca and the academy knew Vale. They knew how much in love he was with Marc. So manipulation seemed the only way.

"They still are. He's still being manipulated. Probably. But if we find out who-" "Luca, stop" the Spaniard quickly interrupted. His voice was sharp and on point, making it clear, he wasn't messing around. "I am glad you still have hope, but I don't. I have a son to take care of. I can't afford getting thrown off by Vale. And getting my heart broken all over again. I need to be there for David"

"I know... I... I'm sorry" "No. You know I didn't mean it like that. It's just... I was so sure he'd get around and sometimes, in moments like this, I wonder what my life would be like if he did. And David's life."

He sighed deeply and remembered how everything had changed. He remembered bearing the accusation for the first time, seeing the news filled with it. He remembered every fight and confrontation. And he realized how much less it actually were than he had thought.

"Sometimes I wondered if I could have convinced him if I just had tried." he admitted. "I never even took him to court over anything. I didn't want to force him to anything. No child support. Nothing. Not even giving up his legal rights to David even if he pushed him away... I didn't even ask him for a paternity test"

He laughed. It was such a stupid realisation that he felt childish for not even having considered it sooner.

"Why didn't I? Really... It... It could have solved everything. It would have gave him the truth, black on white. A scientific prove that he is David's father... But no! I was so stupid and caught up in everything I couldn't think straight. And now it's too late. I don't even know if I want him to make one."

He bit his lips, wondering if it would be to much and what it would even mean.

"Maybe just to see the shock on his face when he realized that he had been saying all this crap about his own kid... But I don't think I'd be able to take him away from him if he actually comes to his sanity... So then I would have to deal with... Well everything. I should have just ask him to do the stupid test...."

He shook his head, trying to gather his thoughts again. It was then that he saw the Italian next to him. He was awkward shifting from one feet to the other and avoiding his eyes. There was a guilty look on Lucas face.

"Luca?" he asked "Why do you look like that?" "What? I - No. Nothing. I-" "Luca why do you look like that? What did you do?" he asked and if his voice switched to his parent scolding voice like it did when he had to scold Dabifd, then what?

"Why do you have the same guilty look in your face like when you wanted to help Alex cut his hair and gave him a bald stripe." "Okay first off, that wasn't my fault! I was shaving his neck and he suddenly looked up and basically shoved his hair in the razer" "Then what did you do now?" he demanded.

There was once more a second of silence. Marc looking at Luca, staring him down. Luca trying not to break but at the end giving in with a sigh.

"I... When 2015 happened... I asked Alex to sent me a DNA sample from David. I sent that and one of my own to a DNA lab in Italy. I chose Italy to avoid Vale using his Spanish conspiracy theory and... I got the result and obviously it said that we are related with the expected DNA match percentage for the kid of someone's half sibling."

Slowly Marc's eyes went wide. He understood what Luca was saying before he finished the sentence. They had essentially done a paternity test. But if they did it - where was Vale? And why? If he had the result?

"I showed it to Vale and I thought it would make him understand and reconsider... You know that it was just an emotional out of the moment frustration. I mean - people do extrem things when they loose and - okay that is above all excusesable - I just wanted to prove to him that he is wrong"

"I guess it went wrong?" he asked quietly.

"He didn't believe me. He said the test must be fake." "The test was fake? According to him?" "Yeah..." He just nodded.

The awkward silence return and he knew that Luca felt guilty - again. Again without reason. Again over his brothers action. Marc felt sorry for him. He was so young and had to step up to deal with his older brothers madness and try to ease it. He tried it day after day.

"Well, at least I could save the money for a paternity test." he said jokingly. "And the trouble of dealing with it. Sorry you had to do it"

Luca just shrugged. He was obviously thinking about whatever happend between the brothers when they had the conversation.

Marc tried to imagine. He tried to think of anything that Vale could have said but noen really made sense because in Marc's mind it was impossible to deny while for Vale it was the only logical response.

Luca bit his lips, remembering how he went to Vale that day. He was holding the brief tight in his hand like it was treasure when he saw his brother sitting on the couch.

He had explained him everything. Vale showed no reaction the whole time. His face was guarded and neutral. He let Luca talk, solely because Luca was his brother. Everyone else would have gotten interrupted and thrown out 2 sentence in.

But he let him talk. He took the letter, read it, understood it and let Luca explain if some more.

Luca was mid sentence when Vale suddenly hugged him. "I am so sorry" he had whispered with honestly in his voice. "Luca, I.... I don't know what to say" "It's okay" the younger one had replied with a grin.

"We can figure it out. If you apologize to Marc and the media, maybe we can be a family again. I'm sure they'll understand and-" "No, Luca. Don't you get it? They used you." he said, his voice sad.

Sad for his brother.

"What?"

"They - oh fucking hell. I'm so sorry, Luca. I really am" he said again and pushed his hand through his hair as he eyed the letter again. The scientific prove that he had fathered the child he cursed a bastard.

"I would have never expected them to actually drag you in this as well. Luca, they used you. The test is fake. They are trying to put you against me"

"What? No! No! I made the test! It's real. It really is!" "It's not. Come on, buddy. You're not a kid anymore. You don't really think that... This is true? You think I'm lying? Do you really think I - I - would abandoned my own child?"

Luca had looked up at him. Their eyes met. The hurt in Vale's eyes, just at the thought of it was clear, more clear than any cristal. It was so evident that Luca couldn't help but shake his head. It was than that the older brother had wrapped him up in another hug.

He was remembering it when Marc reached for him again. He just couldn't help it when seeing the younger one like this.

He pulled him in a side hug and stood on his tip toes to give him a short kiss on the cheek. He was family and Marc wouldn't let his family suffer in silence and drown in their own thoughts. He would stand by them and do whatever he could.

And now it seemed like the only thing he could do was giving Luca the comfort only an older brother could provide. But without the hidden burning hate, Vale still had. Without the lingering anger. Without the hole that Vale had caused in his baby's brother heart when he showed the boy he raised what he was really capable of.

Because yes - Luca believed Vale. He believed he would never abandon his own child. After all Vale had been like a 3rd parent to him. He knew what it was like to be raised by Vale. He knew Vale had always sworn to be a good parent one day.

But now he was the opposite. He had abandoned his son and a part of Luca refuses to accept that. He couldn't believed his brother would be able to do that, that his delusion ran as deep as that.

But the facts were proof enough. It wasn't Vale, standing on the side of a dirt track watching David. It wasn't Vale that was there with them, taking time off and using one of their rare breaks to look after a child.

It was Luca who had been there for Marc, Alex and David. Not Vale. Not anymore. And maybe never again.

[yesbutmakeitgay]

Lifelines Intertwined

Chapter 5

Valkyrie x Reader

Summary: Revelations from the Gods.

Word count: 1k

Soulmates, Slow burn, Angst.

A/N: Second to last chapter 👀

Beta'd by @cordeliasdarling <3

Masterlist | This Series Masterlist | AO3

Shortcuts & False Solutions

It’s the next morning, an hour and a half after you were due in The King’s office, but you never showed up, so she takes it upon herself to find you and figure out why.

Valkyrie knocks on your quarters and, after confirming she’s not interrupting anything, she lets herself in, closing the door behind her, "You didn't come to work today, everything okay?" she asks gently, sitting on the bed with you.

You give her a quick glance and then go back to staring at the wall, "I don't get sick days?" you snark, she takes in your state and notices the large bags under your eyes, did you not sleep at all either?

"Are you sick?" you pull your hoodie sleeve up to reveal your bloody, wrapped up forearm, "Right," she sighs, feeling a little dumb for asking. She looks around the room trying to ignore your refusal to make eye contact, and realizes it's oddly empty, until she notices your stuff is all packed by the foot of the bed.

Her mind starts running, "I know you're angry with me, but I must urge you to stay," she pauses to see if you’ll respond, "not for me, for my people, they don't deserve to suffer simply because they have a stupid King." You don't say a word, simply shaking your head with an empty expression, "Please, we need you, name your price."

A few days later, you show up to work at your new job, assisting New Asgard's Army General, down with the troops.

As much as you wanted to flip Valkyrie off and take a plane back home, a small part of you couldn’t let you leave knowing the Kingdom was still in danger.

Every morning, you hope the Kree attack comes, so you can either die in battle or finally leave this place. The hallways that once brought you happiness now make your blood boil.

Some remorse finds you at not taking The King up on her monetary offer, but it seemed too morally emaciated to charge them for their suffering.

You can't believe you were foolish enough to let Valkyrie in, to trust her, to fall for her. Her betrayal reminds you of the reason you locked your heart up in the first place. No matter how hard you try, people will always, inevitably, let you down.

You keep meditating over the incident. How you instinctively knew to keep your mark from her, sensing that her reaction could only go poorly, how she pushed herself onto you as you were just trying to protect yourself, and, in the end, it all resulted the exact way you were sure it would.

You cared for her, you loved her, and the second she saw your mark she did the same thing everyone always has, she mocked and humiliated you.

That is the last time you open up to someone.

One day, after a couple of weeks working with the troops, a tall, blond beefcake approaches you, "Hey, you must be Valkyrie's new assistant!" he greets you cheerfully.

You are slightly uneasy as you haven’t seen him before, but chug it up to not having been at this job long enough, "Yup, that's me." He offers you a handshake, and you accept, regretting it immediately as he squeezes all the blood from your fingers.

"Do you know where she is?"

"Uh, Valkyrie? Not here, I don't work with her anymore," you admit with a stutter.

He frowns, "What? Why not?"

"We had a…disagreement." You try to keep as much to yourself as possible, and he doesn’t seem to mind.

"Okay, then, I’m gonna go look for her, it was nice meeting you," you nod in response, still unsure of how to react to the strange man, "I like the uniform," he mouths as he’s walking out.

You look down at you armor, "That makes one of us," you grumble, "was that—?" you loudly think to yourself, but then decide to disregard the whole conversation and go back to work.

A loud knock takes Valkyrie out of her thoughts, she lifts her head to look for the source of the sound and finds the blond beefcake leaning on the doorframe, "There she is!" he smiles dopily.

"Thor, what are you doing here?" She is not delighted by his presence, but at least she’s not in the worst mood she’s had lately.

"Thought I'd come to visit," he says nonchalantly as he enters the office, "why’s your new girl down with the army?"

Valkyrie’s walls immediately go up, "We agreed it was best that way."

"What about the emergency?"

Val gives him an incredulous look and mumbles to herself, "Now you give a shit?" she crosses her arms and addresses him again, "She still works for me."

"Yeah, but she’s all the way over there," he objects, pointing bellow them, Valkyrie simply huffs in response, "you said you really liked her," he tries to bargain.

"I did, I do, I fucked up, it doesn't matter." Her voice grows less confident with each word as she finally admits it out loud.

"Well, you’d better figure it out, can't have the new King go down in a depressive spiral again," he warns playfully and turns back toward the door, "I’m gonna go say hi to my people."

As Thor is walking out, Val spots a black imprint peeking out of his neck, she squints her eyes to focus further and tries to say something, but nothing comes out.

Could it be that The God of Thunder has a soulmark matching the one of his late human lover? Does he even know he has it? Does his itch like hell, too?

Could this really mean what Valkyrie has been thinking all this time? She cannot let you leave until she figures it out.

Chapter Six

[starxiaos]

dreamscape by nct dream: the review

— preface: i am still a relatively new fan, so i don't recognize all their voices yet. i also do not speak korean, nor am i fluent by any means. this review is solely based on vibes, instrumentals, and english phrases. the translations are not out yet at my time of posting this. this being said, this review is also for shits and giggles, and i could be entirely wrong. however, this is my opinion and my review, so if it bothers you, write your own. special thanks to our favorite dreamzen, @jenoslutie , for helping me with vocal recognition.

— details. release date: november 11, 2024. # of songs: 11 total listening time: 34 minutes note: eleven songs...released on 11/11..i see you. — overall rating: 9.2/10. favorite songs are marked with ☆, regardless of rating.

— track 1: INTRO : DREAMSCAPE rating: 8/10 thoughts: guitar in the beginning is nice. this is sweet. i don't know who is who but i assume that haechan was the second vocalist in the beginning. "trying to wake up, up, up. fly away." was adorable. this beat was very cute and warm, in my opinion, while still keeping their sort of edm/trance trademark.

— track 2: When I'm With You rating: 9.8/10 live reaction: love this beat, what? i don't know enough korean but this shit feels like men yearning, based on the english parts and their tones alone. the syncopations for "when i'm with you" are really good and smooth. 1:49-1:56 WHO IS THAT??? (it was haechan) "when i'm with you…day and night…" VS "when i'm with you…i'm so blind.." oh you're in LOVEEE!!! 2:50-3:00 WHO ARE THOSE TWO??? (it was renjun and haechan, then jeno) whoever didn't like this is fucking stupid. it's fun and funky and a little refreshing.

— track 3: Flying Kiss rating: 10/10 live reaction: "like a fanta-zzzzzy" BRO? "baby i know that you love me." oh my? that's so…this beat CHANGE HOLD UP! "I LOVE YOU FOREVER" OOOOH OMG THEY'RE EATING WAIT!? these beat changes are GOOD! it changes the vibe for a moment then right back, it's like a rollercoaster dip. "girl you're my DREAM." who is fucking him bc they're doing a GOOD job. the way they're throwing in "i love you forever!" is so boyfriend sneaking out of his gf's house because she has school the next day and blowing her kisses type shit. this is VERY cute.

— track 4: i hate fruits ☆ rating: 10/10 live reaction: BERRY TASTE TASTE TASTE? i like this instrumental a lot. "trynna hate you" i love when a man cannot admit to himself that he likes a girl. i love that, because it's so obvious that he DOES. "lo-lo-love you so bad." THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT WHATTTT I LOVE YEARNING? "love is super sweet, sweet, sweet, sweet in my mouth" that's fucking cute as fuck what the hell. "whole world mine, you're mine" HELPPPP JAFBSLJCKBHLFB THATS SO CUTE AWWWWW WHAT THE HECK GUYS!! "like a grapefruit, sweet and sour" OMGGGGGGG!!!

— track 5: No Escape rating: 10/10 live reaction: this beat is eating. that ricochet sound in the back is GOOD, that'll get stuck in your head fr. this is a song that makes you feel like you're drowning in someone else's problems because you're listening about them and don't really know what to do, forward slash can't do anything about them because you're on the outside. so really, it's like watching THEM drown. even though none of them have writing credits for this one, i get it. "never know why this anxiety keeps coming for me" is a serious statement but the way they've mixed this, it just sounds like a warning, if that makes sense. musical genius here.

— track 6: Best of Me rating: 8/10 live reaction: oh fuck this instrumental already fucks. are all these songs just about yearning? do these boys get no pussy? ….nvm this shit is definitely about sex bro, and if not, at least some sort of intimate moment. haechan writing cred, love that, good boy. this is good! i like their beat a lot for this.

— track 7: YOU rating: 8.5/10 live reaction: this beat is nice and mellow. this is yearning, actually. this is like, actual true pining. "i'm in you" can be understood as sexual, and while i'm sure it is, it also is said…like, in an emotional way. "i'm in you" in your heart, "i'm in you" in who you are as a person, "i'm in you" in the way that you buy takeout and get my favorite dishes even though i'm not there. "i'm in you" in the way you listen to our playlists when you miss me, "i'm in you" in the way that there is a piece of me in you, and a piece of you in me because we're lovers and bound together by the love we feel. this is good, i like the fact that they'll never confirm that it's about sex because there is also so many other ways to process it, and i like the beat change when that part of the song started for mark. good job.

— track 8: Heavenly ☆ rating: 8/10 live reaction: "heavenly, heavenly, heavenly, yeah." was SO pretty. this vocal tone is beautiful, very soft but still coming in with that rap that holds purpose. that's good, i like the tonal switch up between not just their voices but the parts of the song. the instrumental is a solid 7/10 but they definitely know how to bring it higher, with the vocals it's a good 9.5/10. should be longer, in my opinion!! i love the way they say heavenly.

— track 9: Night Poem ☆ rating: 9/10 live reaction: another nice and mellow beat, this is good! this is also definitely about sex, "babe every morning, every night, everyday". this isn't about one night stand sex, casual sex, fwb sex, this is 'i'm in love with you and the universe conspired to help me find you' sex. this is 'i wanna make babies and have a two-story house and a golden retriever with you' type sex song. their tone is so soft and pretty, can never say they're bad vocalists because that'd just be a fucking lie. WHOEVER THE FUCK DID THAT SPOKEN PART AT THE END NEEDS THEIR DICK SUCKED.

— track 10: Off The Wall ☆ rating: 10/10 live reaction: i'm not sure why, but the beginning of this instrumental reminded me of highway to heaven. however, this is very funky and i love that DOWNNNN. this is something you get FUNKY to, i'm talking you play this at the roller rink and skate with your lover. but also, this is 'off the wall,' in love with you. 'off the wall,' obsessed with you. 'off the wall,' losing my mind because i want you so bad. this could also not be about love at all, instead telling listeners to just 'let loose, live your life, who gives a FUCK'. that's hot shit, i love that. good job.

— track 11: Rains in Heaven ☆ rating: 10/10 live reaction: this is a PRETTY song. this is directed at everyone and anyone, but again, can be thought of as a song for a lover. this is so, so sweet and encouraging. this beat is so melodious and their voices are soft and gentle and reassuring. this can be an inspo for a friends-to-lovers fic, something where one of them goes through so many struggles and they're vocal about them but the other does their own stuff in silence until they break? idk. this is very very sweet and cute and i think that it adds to the fact that they can dominate just about any concept. "crawl then we walk so we run" is SO encouraging, because the world is just chronically depressed. THAT HIGH NOTE WHO IS THAT OMG? ATEEE!! the fact that mark has a writing cred for this song also eats, I knew that guy had a soft heart. aw. i hope he knows he's loved. "i love the, the way you are" is so sweet and reassuring. awwww ugh this was so cutie.

— closing thoughts: despite not being new to kpop and casually listening to nct/wayv for a handful of years, i think i still have a lot to learn. however, with dreamscape being my first comeback as a dreamzen, i cannot say i'm disappointed. i've seen an array of opinions on the album, with a lot of negative feedback about the album, the concept, the lyrics, and the instrumental. it's not the vibe, and i genuinely think that if you didn't like it, you simply didn't get it. and that's okay - but making it a point to send hate and say that the album wasn't good/was 'trash' in order to make it known that you didn't get it is a stretch. i hope those of you who took the time to listen and understand the album enjoyed it just as much as i did.

this being said, the album was a mix of really, really melodic songs and comfort, with no escape and off the wall being two of the songs that throw you off course in the best way. the funky mix of off the wall and when i'm with you compliments the overall vibe of the album, and no escape adds an edge right in the middle. intro: dreamscape keeps that staple nct edm vibe, where it's just noise but it is still very soft and it really makes you zero in on the instrumentals.

overall, this album showcases a mix of love songs, inspiring songs, and a sprinkle of something human. each of these songs has that human touch, and has a feeling that you can either relate to or someone around you can relate to - or even better, something you can yearn for. it shows growth, and what can be deemed as an 'escape' into the softer, more intimate parts of adulthood. they really hit the mark on this one, and i look forward to settling more into their little nook of the music world.