#Pudding (same as prev)

[theworldoffandoming]

Adding one more because I reached the tag limit Berry (Tokyo Mew Mew a la Mode)

(see tags for more)

Good evening, Tumblr user.

In front of you is a post asking everyone to list their favorite female Blorbos in the tags, stating that OP is tired of the focus on men in fandom.

You must participate and tag all of your favorite female characters.

If you include any characters who were canonically written as male in your tags regardless of reason, the reverse bear trap attached to your head will activate.

Begin.

[anzulvr]

୨୧ On Purpose Karma x (fem) Reader I| Chapter: 05 ୨୧

Prev || 05 Un? Fortunate || Next

⎯ "Just because you're a part of the student council doesn't mean you're allowed to get all cozy with Asano."  [Name] was sort of familiar with the student, a member of the fan club dedicated to the chairman's son, Asano Gakushu. 'It's way too early for this.' 

They'd never talked, but that didn't mean she hadn't had this same conversation with other people. It was as if his fan club had a precedent of hating [Name] before admitting members.

"I really don't know what you're talking about, but I can assure you there's nothing going on between-" The girl kept walking, harshly brushing her shoulder on [Name] in the process. She could barely get a word in.

It really wasn't like that. There was no reason for anyone to believe so, sure, she wasn't exactly out in the open about it but she was in a relationship. She isn't the type to mess with other guys behind Karma's back. She guessed it was the result of being the only girl on the council. They overanalyzed her every little step.

"If you want to be in the same class so badly just start failing until they throw you down with me."  Those were Karma's words from a few days ago, and [Name] was starting to consider them.

She couldn't decide if it was worth it or not. She was on top of her academics and as annoying as they were, spending so much time around the council meant the members grew on her.

'I need  something to drink...'

Out where the vending machines were she saw a familiar face, his blue hair tied up in pigtails. It had been so long since [Name] talked to Nagisa. As she was about to say hi, she noticed the green-haired girl who had been with him at the café. Her name was Kayano if she remembered correctly.

She didn't want to be rude and interrupt, that was the excuse she was going with. In full honesty, she was curious as to what Nagisa was doing with a girl, listening in for a bit wouldn't hurt.

"Explosives, guns, knives. I'm starting to doubt it's even possible to kill him." They were hovered over a notebook as if they were trying to solve a thousand-piece puzzle.

Some kind of game? That's what [Name] was wondering.

"but your notes are great, it's cool you're so observant Nagisa... what were we here for again?"

"Karma's strawberry milk."

"Yeah... He's a bit addicted don't you think?"

"Not as bad as your pudding thing... uh, hold on."

With instincts like Nagisas, he picked up on an uncounted-for presence. He shot Kayano a look, instructing her to quiet down with his eyes.

"[Name?]"

"Hey Nagisa! Sorry, I didn't mean to eavesdrop but you were busy."

"It's okay, How have you been?" He smiled warmly, internally he was praying you didn't hear anything strange.

"I'm good! I've missed you a lot, we haven't talked in forever!"

"We should hang out one of these days! Oh, I should introduce you, Kayano this is [Name], [Name] Kayano." He gestures between the both girls.

"Nice to meet you." Kayano shakes her hand.

"Why are there two types of strawberry milk here? Kayano, do you remember which one he gets?" asks Nagisa.

"No, just take a guess."

[Name] types on the vending machine's number pad. "He likes both but prefers this one, They taste the same to me though." She shrugs and almost hands the milk box to Nagisa, but she pulls back out of his reach at the last second.

"Can I go with you? I'll drop you off at your class!"

Nagisa smiles "That would be fun but you have your own class to get to."

"It's fine! I usually worried about skipping but only for a little won't hurt."

Nagisa is hesitant when he says "You'll face harsher consequences since you're in council." He didn't want her to feel rejected but if they walked together there was a pretty good chance she'd catch sight of Korosensei.

"The opposite actually, I get away with way more by being in council. It works out! Let's go I wanna see Karma."

Kayano yanks the milk from [Names] grasp. It's very abrupt and leaves an uncomfortable feeling in everyone. [Name] feels embarrassed, she's internally hoping they can't see it on her face. The feel becomes uncomfortable for a second, Kayano looks down not meeting [Names] eyes.

In an attempt to fix things [Name] apologizes, "Sorry, I get the hint, see you Nagisa." She smiles trying not to let things get more uncomfortable for anyone. They probably want to be alone.

"It's not like that! We'd like you to come but we'd get in a lot of trouble if anyone saw you with us, over the weekend we should meet up."

"Alright, we can do that." They wave goodbye to each other.

⊹₊ ⋆ Time skip ୨୧ ⊹₊ ⋆

"If you want to be in the same class so badly just start failing until they throw you down with me."

[Name] and Karma were lying on his bedroom's wooden floor, staring up at the ceiling as they talked about whatever topic bubbled up on their minds.

"Hey Karma, do you really think I should drop down to E class?"

He looks at her curiously "What's got you thinking of that?"

"I was thinking of what you said the other day, maybe that is the only way we can be together."

"You don't have to sacrifice your grades for a few more hours with me, clinger."

"I wasn't gonna, it would take too long to get me to fail everything! Remind me why they decided to put you in that class again?"

"I broke a guy's arm." He says with not a second thought.

[Name] sighs "I can't do that..."

"I could do it for you, and you can take allll the credit. I got ways to make 'em play along!" If it were anyone else talking about this with so much excitement [Name] would question their mental state, but it's Karma.

"That's not what I meant... but thanks for having my back!"

Karma is not sure about this, He knows [Names] fears and she's got lots of them. Spiders, thunder, heights, and much more, He questions if her heart could handle seeing a three-meter-tall octopus who might be the reason the world ends. Ultimately Karma decides to indulge in it, it would be nice having her around, on top of that she'd get along with his friends and definitely like the teachers more.

He thinks back to all the other stuff he pulled, none of which worked out but trying again wouldn't hurt, at least not him.

"You can try pulling pranks but it wasn't that effective for me."

"Help me think of something?"

"I wouldn't let you do it without me."

For now there was nothing to worry about. No one to distract them from one another, just the two of them.

note: sorry for still taking so long on request :,( I’m trying to balance the post of request and On Purpose, Ive also been reallll busy. Does anyone actuallyyyyy read this fic?? the updates are kinda just setting everything up rn, more Karma soon!

[mondaymelon]

𖥔 ݁ ˖⩇⩇:⩇𝟥.𖥔 ݁ ˖

⤷ a halloween event hosted by @mondaymelon !!

prev.

taglist: @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @silaswritesthings, @neigesprincess, @mintydump, @kaeffeinee, @scaranaris-lil-niko !! ignore me saying yes and refusing him lmao i was being silly

“No.” You took his hand readily and let him pull you to your feet. “It doesn’t.”

If the air around you had been a little less foggy, you would’ve been certain in the way his gaze softened, eyes turning to a liquid gold that shimmered in the rippling movement, like light reflecting on the water. “I see.” Even his voice was beautiful, slightly raspy and with a growl in his words, like a symphony made just for you. “Then it should make this easier.”  His sculpted arms dug into your sides as he leaned into you, each finger grasping your skin tightly, a hold that would most certainly leave dappled bruises on your skin. He opened his mouth, and his words flowed thick like honey. “I’ll explain when it’s over.” 

Something pierced your neck, two fangs sinking into your flesh, and then threading veins of warmth spread like wildfire across your skin. His fingers grazed against your nape, brushing any stray strands away. Not a drop escaped past his bared fangs, despite the red that began to stain his lips. Swirling, your mind had gone white, and you couldn't even formulate a single coherent thought, only letting a soft gasp escape. You would melt at the slightest touch, you were sure of it. 

He pulled away, lips streaked with crimson, and let out a quiet sigh as he brushed his hair back with his fingers. “Shit, no wonder why Venti went feral. Archons,” His voice dipped to a lower note, a whisper. “Why do you taste so…?”

Venti, who had been standing to the side, glanced up with an unpleasant expression. “Ah, what a hypocrite. Reprimanding me with such vigor only to go and do the same thing yourself, how unfair is that?”

“I did it for a reason, bloodthirsty bastard. You just go and bite anything that breathes.” Xiao scoffed, exasperated. He glanced at where you were, visibly panting heavily as your quickened breaths turned white in the air. “My apologies.”

“What… W-What the fuck?” You pressed a hand to your neck and felt blood dripping past your fingers, and you drew them back with a flinch. They were tainted in a red that trailed down your wrist. You had to force the words out amidst your heavy breaths. “You… You said…!” 

“As I said, my apologies. This was the only way to protect you. A mortal cannot go unguarded in these realms.” He looked regretful, he really did, but his eyes were not one of a human’s, and his rich voice was one that had persisted for centuries. The diamond pupils you had adored so much in the seconds before now seemed unnatural, like a predator's, and that made you his prey. “In time, you’ll understand.” He placed his gloved hand in yours, yet you felt no warmth radiate past the cloth. “Please, let’s head back to the manor before they find us.”

Another mystery to unravel. “They?”

Xiao shook his head, his black hair illuminated by the moonlight. His hushed words came out quickly. “You’ve traveled into the wrong territory. I’ve risked enough retrieving you, and if we stay too long they might-”

“Ah, look what the cat dragged in.” There was a laugh, a chilling one. Xiao instantaneously glanced up, expression cold as a curse slipped past his lips. He swerved to the right to avoid a blade thrown past his head, where it embedded into the tree trunk meters behind, the wood shrieking as it bent into two.

“Stay out of matters that don’t concern you!” Xiao shouted, but you could read the signs of uneasiness in his stance. How many lay in wait in the shadows? If you ran now, would you be able to… There was a final snap as loud as thunder, and then the great tree fell to the ground, completely uprooted. Venti giggled childishly like he was excited at the predicament.

Your hands shook. No way in hell. At least in Inazuma, you could do something against the perpetrator, but here. They were on a level of their own, and they had surpassed the limits that the gods had set for them.

“A rat who has snuck its way onto our land is squeaking. Ah, my ears hurt.” The same voice from before, but this time it was paired with a figure walking out from behind you, causing you to spin on your feet. A glimpse of indigo hair, fluttering garments, dark violet eyes that made him seem more dead than alive. Sharp horns that sprouted from his head and twisted towards the sky, and a whip-like tail that whipped with every word. He brought a hand up to his mouth, his slender fingers curling cruelly as he barked out a laugh. “Ha! It’s as if you wish to die.” His voice was sharp, not cold, but distant, as if he wasn’t fully there. The sneer in his tone made it all too clear that he was getting a kick out of this, even if the spreading smirk on his face didn’t make it obvious enough.

“Now, now,” a new voice had entered the fray, and it was lilting, almost hypnotic. “Wanderer, you can’t be thinking of killing them now, are you?” Red hair. Red hair? Dark horns that curled above his ears, and a sender tail that bent like a question mark. Green eyes that sparkled even though the night had been coated in black paint a thousand strokes over. The boyish grin plastered on his face made his cheeriness prominent. “Show a little courtesy, won’t you? Even if his majesty isn't here, it still seems we have a guest.” His gaze flicked towards you, and lingered a moment too long. “You aren’t planning to keep them to yourself, are you? It’s been a long, long while since we’ve ever had any sort of entertainment around here~”

“Venti.”

One word was all he spoke, but in a split second Venti appeared by your side, taking you into his arms as he held you bridal-style, his touch much less invasive than before. The way he held you so effortlessly, as if you weighed nothing, and how his every step was so gentle against the earth, like the wind itself was carrying him forward, felt like it was second nature to him. You blinked up at Venti with round, surprised eyes, mouth slightly ajar as your heartbeat raced against your mind.

“Ah, poor thing, they’re shaking like a leaf!” Venti sighed, pouting playfully. ”And come to think of it, I’ve forgotten to ask for your name… for now, please say the word, ‘transfer’ so we can teleport to the manor! I only have enough magical power for the two of us, y’know~”

“Venti, don’t you dare…!” The angry one had stepped forward, teeth clenched and tail lashing behind him, its point razor sharp. Something about his growly voice made your own die in your throat. His brows furrowed as his eyes darkened his expression into a threatening glare. “Don’t even think about it, or I’ll make sure this will be the last time you see him.” His eyes directed towards Xiao, who was watching the two of them with a scowl. 

“Go.” His gilded eyes glinted, and something burning settled into your soul.

Wanderer let out an abrupt laugh, seemingly startling even himself as his frame shook to his twisted amusement. “Two against one, do you really think you’ll win? I heard you’ve been staving off of human blood for a while now too, don’t tell me you actually are holding onto your foolish principles!”

Your vision blurred. Your mouth felt dry, like you hadn’t spoken in centuries, and every intake of air was painful. You could feel Venti’s expectant gaze staring down at you, yet your heart wavered. ‘Transfer’… if I say that, I’ll go back. But Xiao, and these others… what…what will happen to him? Fuck, will he…die…?

ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴛʀɪᴀʟ.

next

[nowoyas]

Boiling Point 4: Finale - Miguel O'Hara x Reader (NSFW)

First - Prev - M.list - Ao3

A/N: by the power of banana pudding rum we got there. thanks for waiting and please enjoy!

Summary: We reach the part where you get what you want.

Notes: smut. this is the part with actual sex for real. uh biting mentions, blood drawn, etc.

Word Count: 2800

None of this has exactly been how you expected this night to go.

At any turn, you were expecting something else. Not eating sandwiches atop the Empire State building and sipping fountain drinks while you floated, quite frankly thinking you were out of your damn mind and dreaming some truly deranged shit, as Miguel acted exactly like normal in response to having discovered that your sex drive is basically controlled by whether or not he breathes in the same room as you on a given day.

By the time you've nearly finished your drink and near pulling off the lid to crunch the ice, mostly to have something to do with your mouth other than fuck up, Miguel lets out a heavy sigh.

Honestly, you're still stuck on the part where he knows. Clearly he's somewhere miles past you, speaking frankly, as though this is a normal conversation to be having. Just a Spiderman and the Spider belonging to this version of New York, far above the ground. You stare at the stars while he stares at the streets below.

"Are you understanding anything I've said to you? I'm starting to think you're not."

The ice cube cracks in your teeth. You spit it back into your cup to respond. "It's more like I think I'm being punked right now."

"Punked?" he repeats back. You wonder if that's because that's not a thing in Nueva York, or if it's because the idea is so stupid that he can't believe you've put it into the world in the first place. (It is, in fact, a little bit of both.)

You double down, because that is your best quality. "Yeah. Like, tricked? Pranked? You're sitting here having taken me out for chicken sandwiches in response to—hell, I don't think I can make myself say it out loud, but anyways you are Miguel O'Hara and it takes all the work in the world to not think of you by your full name every time because you're just that fucking amazing."

He lets you go on, watches you as you watch the stars. You pause to crunch another ice cube before continuing. "Like, I'm not sorry for thinking you're the hottest thing to walk any Earth. I am sorry you found out, because I can see how that would be uncomfortable to discover, but like. You are hot. I could go into excruciating detail, if you'd like, but I think that's a bit too much, and in case you haven't noticed, I'm trying to be, like, normal?"

"You're not any less normal than anyone else we’ve brought into the multiverse," he says. "I am now completely convinced that you haven't been listening to anything I've said, though."

“I haven’t… not been listening?”

“Okay. Then, what have I been telling you?”

You thoughtfully crunch another ice cube.

“…shit.”

He sighs. “Okay, let’s take it from the top. I was hoping you would figure out you were being an idiot before you sent yourself spiraling directly into sub drop, but that clearly didn’t happen. As fun as it’s been watching you drive yourself insane, this isn’t how I wanted to see you fall apart.”

“…okay.” He’s watching your every movement, and you, in turn, are trying to control each one, down to whatever microexpressions you can. Part of you wants to cry from the embarrassment of it all. But dammit, you are not sitting at the top of this building to cry for once. “So… how did you want to see me fall apart?”

“I can show you.”

Please hold. Buffering.

“Okay!” It comes out a squeak, but this is not a man who has the time to let you cringe, apparently, because you’re suddenly being bodily lifted from your perch, your trash nearly forgotten except your quick thinking to web it to you. Responsible superheroes don’t leave their trash on skyscrapers.

“Limits?” he says as he carries you, so easily for a man only using one hand.

“What?”

“What are your limits? Dirty talk, biting…”

Oh. Your face flares hot. I think you’re finally starting to get it. Good for you. “Um. I don’t… like… assplay?”

He nods, not even looking down at you. That’s fair. He’s a little occupied with the web-swinging right now. Actually, it’s kind of fun to be carried like this, rather than being the one doing all the work. You should find some way to con him into carrying you around like this again sometime.

“I can work with that. Anything else?”

“Um… normally I like degradation, but maybe not right now?”

“Makes sense. Safeword?”

You’ve suddenly forgotten every semblance of a safeword you’ve ever known. Good going. 10/10.

“Pumpkin,” you blurt.

“Pumpkin?”

“Pumpkin.”

“You didn’t just make that up on the spot, did you?”

“Not that you can prove.”

He lets out a soft huff, more felt than heard, and lands on the roof of your building. “Not sure I want your neighbor listening in.”

Ah. Yeah. That… huh.

(You are so fucking eloquent.)

You flash a grin. “Yeah, uh, I think he’s been doing that for a while. I might move, actually. When I can afford it. Do you think this is… better?”

He sighs. “No. But I need a moment.”

“Oh, okay, I can—“

His lips crash down on yours, and fuck it, this clearly isn’t real, so of course you’re going to moan against his lips and kiss him right back. He’s so much bigger than you—all muscles and hard lines and, when he pulls back and you open your eyes, deep red eyes and sharp teeth.

He must like something he sees in the way his eyes roam over you, because he groans and drops his head a bit. “Do you have any idea how difficult it’s been to not think about taking you like this?”

“Like what?” You do your best to sound innocent. It does something, a fact you’re proud to state you know from the way his clawed fingertips suddenly flex into your flesh.

…he is going to completely destroy you.

You, for one, are fully prepared for that outcome.

…probably.

Making out on the rooftop becomes making out in your bedroom becomes Miguel getting you out of your Spider suit in record time. (Maybe you’ll ask him for pointers after this, all things considered.) At least you’re not the only one getting surprised today—when he gets your top half bare and finds your tits bouncing free, not a bra in sight, there’s a growl passing his lips that leaves you shuddering.

“No bra?” His hand hovers over your breasts, as though waiting for permission.

You press your chest forward, right into his waiting hands. “Built into the suit.”

“That’s… dangerous.” His eyes are dark as they fixate on you, on the way your soft curves squish in his hands. “Have you ever worn a bra under the suit?”

You laugh, wrap your arms around his shoulders. “No, sir, I haven’t. You find me a stretchy spandex that doesn’t show every line underneath and then we’ll talk about bras and underwear.”

Without another word, he grabs at the rest of the suit bunched around your waist and yanks down. You yelp as you move with the suit, as you go from “superhero” to “ass-naked” in one fell swoop. That’s just unfair.

Dark eyes search your face, just a moment, just long enough for him to take in wide eyes and flushed cheeks. Whatever he’s looking for, clearly it satisfies him, because his next step is to jerk your hips up and hook your legs over his shoulders.

“So why don’t you tell me a bit about why you thought a contract like that was a good idea?”

You refuse to meet his eyes. Large hands dig into the flesh of your thighs—not painful, not enough to bruise, but enough that you feel the tiniest pricks of his claws threatening to press in.

“Come on, cariño. I wasn’t asking.”

You throw your arms over your face, hide your eyes so you don’t have to look at him when you admit it. “…I kept overheating the motors in my vibrators.”

He startles you with a real, genuine laugh. “Really.”

“Yes!” You jerk to try to face him, which leaves you in a weird half-crunch position. “You’re… a lot, okay? And I’m not, like, constantly constantly thinking about sex, with you or anyone else, but you do shit that gets me started and then I can’t stop and—“

“There you go,” he purrs. “That’s a good girl.”

Your rambling cuts off into a low moan as he buries his face between your thighs at last. His tongue enters your core, his fingers toy with your clit, and he works you up just to the point that you actually contemplate murder when he pulls away.

“Miguel, I can’t keep doing this,” you whine, tears already springing to your eyes in response to yet another denial.

He shushes you, gentle. You do not want gentle.

If we’re being completely honest, if this man does not break you tonight, your body is going to completely atomize itself on the spot.

“Please,” you whine.

He quirks a brow you-ways. Tilts his head. “What are you asking me for?”

“Anything. Need to cum. Please.”

A soft laugh. “You need it?”

“Need it.”

His fingers brush against your core, and you whine out.

“Okay.”

You nearly cry—first at the feeling of his fingers entering you, the promise that this is finally over, you’re finally done breaking toys and breaking yourself just to do something right, now someone else gets to break you—then at how expertly he manages to bring you back to the brim with two thick fingers pumping into your heat.

“There you go. You’re doing so well. So, so well, cariño.”

You smile through your moans, meet his blazing eyes as he works your walls and your clit. You cum hard and fast, writhing around him until he has to put a firm hand down on your stomach to keep you still, and this time, you do cry—from release, from overstimulation, from the fact that you got here and you did it and you did so well.

He doesn’t stop when you stop to catch your breath. The swift removal of his fingers is replaced once again by his mouth, and you cry as he laps up the fluttering remains of your first orgasm in so, so long. A jerk of your hips from the contact has just the barest brush of his fangs teasing against your pussy, just enough to remind you that they’re there and you’re finally, finally getting what you need.

“miguel,” you breathe out in lowercase.

He groans against you, grips your thighs again, and this time he does leave thin red lines behind as he loses himself in your pussy.

The second time you cum, you haven’t quite stopped with the tears from the first. It’s almost everything you’ve dreamed of. You’ve dreamed of some weird shit, though, so basically it’s everything worth dreaming of.

And again he barely stops. He pulls away, yes, when your walls stop spasming around his tongue and your whining drops to low keens, and he repositions himself to fondle your flesh, to smooth a large hand over the plush of your tits and thumb lazily at a single nipple, and when he kisses you, you taste yourself on his lips. But he isn’t done, and he makes quite clear he isn’t done quite quickly.

Lips trail from yours to your neck, and when you reach down in hopes of finding the truth of his cock, he grabs your wrist and nips at your throat.

You do not bother trying to repress the shudder as his teeth graze you.

He sighs, nearly laughs. “You’re seriously turned on by these?” he asks, pulling away to look you in the eye.

“M-mhm. All of you.” Oh dear. You didn’t think you could get stupider, but somewhere between edges, you must have found a shovel and started digging. Poor you. “But I really like teeth. Used to be so into vampires. Werewolves. Anything with big teeth that could wreck me.” Okay, that’s enough. You can stop talking now.

Oh, thank fuck, he took his turn in the conversation. That was getting bad. “Guess you’re lucky, then.”

“So lucky.” You nod.

Another graze of his teeth, and then again he pulls away. Bastard. Like you haven’t been edged enough these past few weeks, through no fault or decision of your own. “You know I can’t bite you, right? Paralytic venom?”

“Like I can move after what you just did to me anyway?”

He raises an eyebrow. “We’ll think about it.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a long time.”

“I can tell.” He leaves you there on the bed, a bit limp from the double orgasm action, and removes his own suit, slow and careful. “Lucky for you, I wasn’t done yet. That was just the prep work.”

“Prep?”

Ah. He’s big. Yeah, okay, that makes sense. Maybe you should have trained for this. He climbs right back on top of you, cock weighty where it rests on your stomach, and kisses you slowly. Almost loving, if you hadn’t known any better.

When he presses into you, it’s a stretch, big and sore and dragging out yet another whine from you. He shushes you gently, like this is something you’re supposed to be able to just push through, but he does and you do and when he bottoms out you’re honestly surprised he fits.

“There you go. There’s a good girl. Still doing good?”

No one here is completely sure whether you’re whimpering because his cock is finally inside of you or because of the pet name, but we’ll just say it was overstimulation and call it a day. You manage a nod, which has him arching his brow and holding very carefully still.

“I need a verbal answer, [name].”

“Still… still doing good. You’re good.”

“Okay.”

One slow, careful thrust turns into two turns into three turns into another, and you have to cling to him and claw just to find some sort of purchase before very long at all. By the time you’ve lost count, it’s more because you’ve lost your mind than anything. The overstim-sore gives way to a delicious stretch, and you’re sure you’re babbling something, though you’re pretty sure it’s just his name. That’s all that’s in your head, anyway.

What you know is this: his grip and his pace become bruising, at your enthusiastic pleading, and he fucks you until you don’t remember whether you came once or twice or stopped until he was done. You know that he pulls out, that he cums across your stomach in thick ropes. You know that he cleans you with a warm, damp cloth, tends carefully to the cuts on your thighs where his claws dug just a touch too deep. When you can sit up, you blearily take the kit from him and dab at the bits on his back where you managed to draw blood. Marks of your own left on his skin.

“You did good. Better than I was expecting, honestly.”

“You’re rude,” you shoot back with a sleepy-sounding laugh. “And big. And good.”

You’re not sure the etiquette here. In the light of no longer being mid-fuck, you cringe at the dance that socialization inevitably becomes. He’ll go back to his universe, and leave you here, and probably send Lyla to let you know of new assignments, but what do you do now except begrudgingly accept the chocolate he shoves in your mouth and make sure the cuts on his back are disinfected?

“Sorry about your thighs. That’ll sting for a while,” he says as you’re busily trying to memorize the muscles on his back.

“I’ll be fine. Quick healing and all that. Um…”

“I’ll do some work to figure out the venom thing, if you were serious about wanting me to bite you.”

“Of course I’m serious!” You squeak. “Your damned fangs were at least two of my casualties that started this whole thing!”

“Casualties?”

You fluster, turn away. “Yeah. Casualties.” A brief pause where it sinks in. “Wait. So you want to… do this again…?”

“Was that not clear? You’re a bright spot in the multiverse. If you’d just stop throwing yourself into stupid shit…”

“Don’t kid yourself. I’m already perfect.”

“You are. I’m still not biting you without being absolutely sure I won’t kill you in the process.”

“Aw, that’s half the fun!”

He gives you a sharp look, and you cringe.

“Right. Yeah, I get it. Feel free to surprise me when you figure it out, though.”

He pulls you into his arms, and in his warmth you feel yourself finally relax a little bit.

“I think I’ll take you up on that one.”

Tags: @deeplightgarden @idonthaveanameideayet @dusstory @yohoe-hoe @ambientcryptidsounds @roxannarichie @vegas-writing-den @cooch1ecruncher @bluepeanutharmony @instanttragedyfire @thesilenthill @topreice @rhae-blackqueen

If you'd like to be tagged, shoot me a message or an ask, or ask here in the replies, tags, or reblogs and let me know what you'd like to be tagged in (all works, all works specific to a character, all smut works, etc.). If your name appears on this list but is not underlined and you didn't get a notification, please check to make sure that your blog is NOT set to not appear in search results in your blog settings! If you've got that set that way for a particular reason, consider subscribing to the fic on ao3 for an equivalent update notification, as I always crosspost simultaneously! After three unsuccessful tagging attempts, you will be removed from the list.

As always, thanks for reading! <3

[pardi-real]

Honeymoon Knight / Chapter 11 - If I Were to Keep a Pet

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~ After a while ~

Hanamaru: "Phew… The discussion about marriage turned out to be livelier than I expected."

> “Thank you for sharing” > "Listening to it was enjoyable"

Teddy: "Hehe… I'm glad you enjoyed it, my lord!"

Yuhan: "Well then... It's about time for the lord to be getting hungry, isn't it?"

> "That's true"

*Stomach growls*

Muu: “E-excuse me... I'm getting hungry…"

Yuhan: "Oh dear… Looks like Muu's hungry too."

Hanamaru: "It's almost lunch time. Should we grab a meal?"

> "Let's do that"

Teddy: "Leave it to me, I've researched the nearby places in advance! There's apparently a stylish café nearby. Shall we go there?"

Hanamaru: "As expected, Teddy, you're reliable~."

Yuhan: "Thank you, Mr. Teddy."

Teddy: "Alright then, my lord. This way!"

> "Thank you"

And so, we headed to a nearby café. We sat around the same table at the café.

~ After a while ~

Teddy: "The coffee and pudding here are so tasty..."

Hanamaru: “The green tea is great too. And this ice cream here."

Yuhan: "My lord, are you really okay with this? Us sitting together like this..."

> "I'm happy about it" > “Don’t mind it today”

Yuhan: "Is that so? However..."

Hanamaru: "Don't worry too much, Yuhan. If the lord says it's okay, then it's fine. More importantly, we should eat soon… The iced matcha latte will get warm, you see?"

> "That's right, Yuhan"

Yuhan: "Understood. Since it's such an opportunity... I should enjoy it. I'll make sure we have a good time."

> "Please do"

~ A few minutes later ~

Muu: "Wow... This shop has matcha drinks!"

Yuhan: "Yes, they're very delicious. As summer approaches, and the weather gets warmer... Drinking cold matcha outdoors has a certain charm.”

Muu: “Hehe… Indeed, cold drinks in hot weather are truly delicious!"

> "That's true"

Hanamaru: "For real, it just hits differently. Muu, be careful not to chill your stomach by drinking too much, okay?"

Muu: "Ahh! There was a cute white cat over there!"

Hanamaru: "Ah… he ain't listening at all."

> "I'll let him know later"

Hanamaru: "Thanks. You're really kind, my lord."

Muu: "Ah... The white cat seems to have gone somewhere…"

Teddy: "Maybe it ran away because someone with a dog is approaching?"

Following Teddy's gaze, we see a newlywed-like couple walking their dog.

Yuhan: "Hmm, come to think of it… in the central lands as well, there's a culture of keeping dogs as pets."

Teddy: "In Espoir too, sometimes you can see families with dogs. Hehe… Dogs are wonderful, aren't they?"

> "Teddy, do you like dogs?"

Teddy: "Yes, I do!"

Muu: "Oh~! So you and Mr. Haures have similar tastes!"

Teddy: "Huh, really!? Having similar preferences with Mr. Haures which I admired... I feel somewhat happy."

Hanamaru: "Teddy really looks up to Haures, huh?"

Teddy: "Yes, Mr. Haures is my goal. Oops- sorry, the conversation got off track."

Hanamaru: "Just maybe, Teddy. If you get married, would you want to have a dog?"

Teddy: "Uhm, if I have to say... Right, I might want to have a dog. Adopt a puppy and raise it together with my partner… I want to take them to a meadow and play with them.”

Muu: “Fufu, that sounds really fun! Speaking of which… how about you, Mr. Yuhan and Mr. Hanamaru? If you get married… What pet would you have?”

> “The pet they'd have, huh…”

Yuhan: “Hmm… well… if I were to keep a pet… perhaps, a bird.”

Hanamaru: “Ooh… is that so?”

Yuhan: “When I was little, I took care of an injured bird and kept it for a while.”

> “So that happened”

Yuhan: “Yes. That was a good memory.  It had its challenges, like getting pecked at and the bird being reluctant to eat... But those hardships, it might bring joy when shared with a partner.”

Hanamaru: “Hm, hm... So you belong to the ‘if I were to keep a pet, it would be a bird' faction, Yuhan.”

> “How about you, Hanamaru?”

Hanamaru: “Hm, me? If I have to say… It would be a cat. Because cats... seem like they'd be good for lazing around together, right?"

Teddy: "I-I see..."

> "That's very Hanamaru-like reasoning"

Yuhan: "Really, it's unbelievable... Are you planning to laze around even after getting married?"

Hanamaru: "It's not a big deal, this is all just a fantasy anyway. Besides, if I were to get married for real... my partner would probably... like that about me, right?"

Teddy: "Th-that's quite the confidence, isn't it?"

Hanamaru: "Heh... Anyway, it's nice to have these kinds of conversations once in a while. Well, that being said... Right now, my lord is more important... more than a theoretical marriage-partner-to-be. Honestly… I have no interest in anyone but you, my lord.”

> "Uh, um..."

Hanamaru: “Caught off guard, ain't cha, my lord~? Your face is all red~."

Teddy: "Wait, Mr. Hanamaru. Please don't trouble the lord. And making advances is not allowed."

> "Teddy...?"

Teddy: "I also value the lord a lot. Of course, these feelings won't lose to anyone"

Yuhan: "Oh my, that's not something to ignore. I also care deeply for the lord."

> "Even Yuhan..."

Hanamaru: "Oops... Both of you, well said, huh... But don't worry, you two. I'll make sure to make the lord happy. As proof... Here, my lord, hold out your hand for a moment."

> "Huh...? Uh, okay"

As I extended my hand… Hanamaru started whistling.

Hanamaru: "Phwee… phwee…."

???: "Chirp, chirp!"

> "Huh?"

In response to the whistle, a blue bird flew out of the tree and landed on my hand.

Muu: "Wow, a cute blue bird!"

Hanamaru: "Hehe... Impressive, isn't it? It's a whistle that calls the bird of happiness. With this, there's no doubt that good fortune will come to you, my lord."

> "That's amazing, Hanamaru”

Chirp, chirp! The little bird chirped softly and then flew away.

Muu: "Ah, it's gone. I believe blue birds are symbols of good luck, right?"

Teddy: "Yes, that's right!"

Yuhan: "Mr. Hanamaru...! Please call the blue bird again."

Hanamaru: "Huh? Call it again?"

Yuhan: "The whistle can call a blue bird, right? Please, call it again. If possible... let it land on my hand this time..."

Teddy: "Mr. Yuhan… Your eyes seem brighter than usual?"

> "What's going on, Yuhan?"

Yuhan: "Um, well... My apologies. I was a little too excited."

Teddy: "Do you like blue birds?"

Yuhan: "Yes. When I was a child, I wanted to have a blue bird at least once. However, blue birds are rare and hard to come by... So I gave up."

Hanamaru: "I-I see… Well… To reveal the trick, this whistle doesn't really call a blue bird... Any small bird will respond, you know?"

Yuhan: "Oh? Is that so..."

Hanamaru: "I happened to see a blue bird in the tree earlier, so I whistled, and the blue bird kindly responded."

Yuhan: "I see... That's too bad."

Hanamaru: "Well, don't be so down, Yuhan.  Oh, right...! Next time, shall I teach you how to whistle? Birds seem to like it, you know?"

Yuhan: "Sigh... If you can stop that triumphant look, I'll consider it."

Hanamaru: "Haa... you're being dishonest~ Yuhan."

Muu: "Mr. Hanamaru! Teach me how to whistle too!"

Teddy: "I want to learn too!"

Hanamaru: "Oh, oh, sure."

> "Can I join too?"

Hanamaru: "Geez... Master Hanamaru sure is popular today."

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[jowrites]

Her - 1. This can't be happening

Masterlist Here

Prev.......Next.

TW: Mentions of murder, mentions of parent death, animal death

“Once upon a time, there was a girl who had a dream like none other…”

“Oh, come on! How many times are you going to tell us this story?”

“Shh! Don’t be so rude, at least she’s telling us a story in the first place.”

The two boys stuck out their tongues at one another, making the girl giggle at the sight. She closed her book and set it aside as she gave her attention to the younger boys.

“Alright then, go ahead,” she said.

“And do what?” the boy on the right, Simon, asked.

“Tell me a story then, if you know any better,” she said.

“Oh now you’ve done it,” Chance, the boy on the left, sat up and elbowed his twin.

“It wasn’t my fault,” Simon elbowed his brother back.

“Hey! That hurt!” Chance said, nudging his brother back as the two of them began to fight.

Sonny rolled her eyes and made her way in between the two on the bed. They gave each other dirty looks before calming down and laying beside their sister.

“Sissy, can we ask you something?” Simon spoke up.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Chance and I, we’ve been talking about this for a while,” Simon said.

“It’s not important, Simon,” Chance said.

“It is to me, what if she gets picked?” Simon said. “I can’t have my sister taken away from me.”

“Is this about the selection tomorrow?” She asked.

“Why do they have one?” Simon asked. “Why do they take girls away from their families and force them into marriage like that?”

Sonny sighed, looking up at the ceiling as she played with her fingers.

“It’s an example,” she said. 

“What kind of example?” Chance asked.

“It’s the Capitol’s way of showing the Nation we’re ‘equal’,” she said.

“But we aren’t equal,” Chance said.

“Yeah, there’s nothing equal about this. Every year the same kind of girls get taken, paraded around on camera in some pageant, and the same girl is selected to marry,” Simon said.

“Wow, you boys are smart,” she teased. “Goodnight, my love’s.”

“Awww, so no story?” Chance said, a pout on his lips.

“You had your time, and time is up. Goodnight,” she said, kissing the boys on their heads and getting up.

“Great, thanks a lot, Simon,” Chance grumbled.

“Yeah, whatever.”

****************

Sonny closed the door on her brothers and walked down the hallway to the kitchen. Her mother sat at the small table, reading over some paperwork as she looked up and smiled at her girl. The aroma in the air smelled like vanilla and cinnamon, which she walked over to the pot on the stove and noticed her mother was brewing some pudding. 

“Those boys are so curious these days,” Sonny said.

“Hm, they’re just like you,” her mom said.

“I am my mother’s daughter,” she said, taking a seat across from her mother. “What’s that?”

“Just some of the farm expenses, looking over the recent year and,” her mother began and sighed. “Trying to figure out what to do.”

Right. Her father usually took care of the farming as her mother looked over expenses and documents. Her father barely knew how to read and so it was up to her mother most of the time. Her father was the backbone of the farm, an amazing worker. He worked until his very last breath on their farm. Now that he’s been gone, Sonny and her best friend, Jake, have been the only ones able to tend to the farm. Though it seemed like half the farm died along with her father, and they haven’t been making much income lately.

“Can we afford more cows?” Sonny asked. 

A month after her father passed away, so did most of their cows. They were all infected by a disease caused by contaminated  grass. Cows who were pregnant lost their babies, and then they followed after. They went from 50 cows to only 15, and they haven’t been able to conceive. 

“I don’t think it’s possible right now,” her mother said.

“What about goats? We can switch to goats and sell goat cheese instead,” Sonny suggested.

“That would make things a bit easier, but goats are harder to take care of,” her mother said. “Whatever, I’ll figure it out. Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

“Why would I be? Every year I register and every year I haven’t been picked. I’m not the ideal candidate,” Sonny waved off her mother’s concern. “I’ll be fine.”

******************

It was the day of the Selection. Girls who are the ages between 19-25 have to register their names in a raffle, a raffle to be selected for one of the ten spots in a race for a Prince’s heart. Every year, their Nation hosts this pageant for their ally Nations, and every year one of the Prince’s participate and choose a bride from this. Every year it’s the same routine. Every girl has a “chance” to get a spot, but only those who really get the spots are from the top 3 factions. Either the new Princess comes from the Banker’s, the Just, or the Arts. The civil servants, the farmers, and your Militia do not have a place at their table. 

It isn’t a fair draw, but Sonny has never complained as she has no desire to participate in anything as disgusting as this. This Nation was built on a woman who was tired of the abuse and discrimination, only for the Nation to go back to that and keep those below in oppression. The faction system is ridiculous and unjust. You are not allowed to go down a faction. Your factions are places you are born into and must stay in. No one is allowed to mix, you are what you are. 

It’s unfair.

“This is stupid,” Jake said as he stood next to his friend in the line. “Why do they force you guys to register if you guys don’t get picked anyways?”

“You’re asking me,” Sonny scoffed. “Remember, it’s a ‘fair’ game.”

“This is just a waste of time,” Jake said, rolling his eyes.

“It’s fine. I’ll register real fast and then we can go down to the lake, okay?” Sonny said, taking her friend's hand and squeezing it.

His heart raced quicker as she touched him and he could have sworn her smile saved a dozen swans. 

“Name?” The guard spoke as Jake and Sonny got to the front of the line.

“Sunflower Clyde,” she said.

“Is that your real name?” the guard asked, looking at her funny. 

“Is that your real face?” Jake said and Sonny nudged him with her elbow.

“Don’t mind him, here,” she said, handing the man her identification card.

“Alright,” he said, scanning the card and handing it back. “All done. Good luck!”

“Yeah, thanks,” she said. 

She took Jake’s arm and walked away down the path back out of the City and towards the fields. The two of them spend most of their time either on the farm or at the lake. She likes to read to him as he fishes, and he just likes to be in her presence. Jake has always loved Sonny. He knew eventually it would be them to get married and he could help her run the farm just like he did with his father’s garden. He just had to man up and actually tell her how he feels and pray for the best.

“Are you ever afraid of getting caught with your books?” Jake asked suddenly, as he held his fishing pole in his hand. 

“Mmm, not really. People don’t normally come out this way,” Sonny said, shrugging her shoulders. 

“But what if someone did one day and they see you? What would you do?” he asked.

“I’d kill them before they kill me,” she said, smirking at him.

“Oh, so we’re killers now?” Jake asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Maybe that’s the key to happiness,” she said.

“Becoming a murderer?” he gasped, gawking at her.

She just laughed.

“Haven’t you ever wondered what it’d be like to kill someone?” she asked.

“No…” he said. 

“Sometimes you gotta do what you gotta do,” she said.

“Wow, who knew you were such a little psycho,” he said. 

“Would you still like me if I was a psychopath?” she asked.

“I’d still have you as my best friend,” he said, looking at her. “You can even make me your victim and I’d let you.”

“Oh now who is the masochist here?” she said, nudging him.

“I’m serious,” he said. “You can do whatever you want and I’d still think you’re the most precious person on this planet.”

He reached over, and moved some of the hair out of her face, caressing her face slightly. Her breath hitched in her throat as she stared at her best friend. He was always so handsome that she knew. But as she sat close to him now, their faces inches apart, she couldn’t help but feel a spark. Just as they leaned in, his pole nudged signaling he caught a fish. Jake jolted, quickly grabbing the pole from loosening out of his grip as he pulled back and began reeling the fish in.

“Oh come on! Not now!” Jake cursed out.

Sonny giggled at him as she began to cheer him on. The boy who loved to fish and was born to catch his fish.

****************

The two of them walked down together towards Sonny's house by the edge of the lake, where her farm was. Jake had caught two fish that day, proud of his achievement. Not only was he proud of his achievement, he made progress with Sonny and he knew she felt the same. He was planning on confessing before the end of the night. He could finally take her off the market and register their marriage so she’d never have to deal with any more of the Selection ever again. He could save her and have her all for himself. But just as they got to her house as the sun was going down, they noticed a black car outside. Sonny frowned in confusion as she walked up to the house and walked inside. When she and Jake walked inside there stood two men in suits. Her mother sat at the table crying.

“Mother? What’d you do?” She asked, her voice laced with anger as she ran to her mother.

“Sunflower Clyde?” one of the men said. 

“Yeah?” she asked.

“No! You can't take her! I won’t let you!” Chance came rushing out from the hallway with his toy sword and began to try to hit one of the men with it. He failed.

“I am Min and this is Jung, we are from the Capitol,” the man said, holding out a card with the Royal crest on it. “You have been selected for this year's pageant. Congratulations!”Sonny’s eyes went wide as her breath caught in her throat. Her eyes filled with tears as she stood there in horror and disbelief. This can’t be happening.

[ollieofthebeholder]

to find promise of peace (and the solace of rest): a TMA fanfic

<< Beginning < Prev || AO3 || My Website

Chapter 65: April 2017

The first thing Martin heard when he surfaced from unconsciousness was a high-pitched voice crying in evident delight, “Oh, it’s you!”

Martin groaned as the voice grated on the raw edges of his throbbing head. There was almost certainly a lump where Breekon or Hope had struck him, and his first addled thought was to wonder if Jon could be prevailed upon to bring him an icepack. Then awareness sludged through the pudding of his brain of something tight around his wrists and something unpleasant-tasting stuffed in his mouth.

He forced his eyes open and immediately wished he hadn’t. Someone had taken his glasses off, which was the opposite of helpful in his current situation, because his eyes immediately reached for the Ceaseless Watcher to compensate before his rational mind could get up to speed enough to stop them. A thousand glowing indigo eyes stared at him impassively and unblinkingly, and looming directly over him was a person-shaped flare of the same indigo light. Off to one side, he thought he could see something glowing brownish-tan, from which a low sort of humming came, indistinct and melodic but grating at the same time. None of it was as bright as he might have expected. The static that always seemed to hiss on the edge of his hearing when he used his powers sounded wrong, and it hurt, but he wasn’t in any kind of shape to force it back.

“Oh, fuck,” he said, or tried to. It came out as muffled upset.

“Now, that’s not good,” the voice said from the direction of the person-shaped blur in front of him. So an Avatar of the Stranger, then. “Where are my manners? Give him back his glasses.”

Rough, unkind hands shoved Martin’s glasses onto his face, forcing his head back and making him grunt as the sore spot impacted with something hard and wooden. Pain made his vision white out for a second. When it cleared, the indigo glow around him was gone, replaced with a sputtering light from a bare bulb dangling overhead that didn’t so much illuminate the area as give interesting edges to the shadows. It was, from what little he could see, a warehouse of some kind. He seemed to be sat on a chair, a wooden one, but sturdy; ropes bit into his wrists and ankles when he tried to move. There was some sort of foul-tasting cloth shoved into his mouth and tied in place. He was cold all over, and needed no more than a quick glance down to confirm that he was totally naked. Waxwork mannequins, not very well-done ones, crowded the space around him in near-regimental lines. Standing next to him was a tall, burly figure he almost recognized as one of the delivery men who had dropped off the table, arms folded over its chest and scowling; another, similar figure he almost recognized stood a few feet away, also scowling, and between them was a wooden box that Martin immediately hated very much. Directly in front of him was a mannequin of a different kind, this one plasticine, shiny and smooth and graceful, like the ones you saw in shop windows at the higher-quality department stores. It had slim, cruelly sharp fingers at the end of arms just slightly longer than normal, and it wore a red-and-gold jacket and matching top hat reminiscent of the one the ringmaster had worn the time Martin’s class had gone on a trip to the circus, but its face was smooth and blank, even more than shop mannequins usually wore. As he blinked the last of the spangles out of his eyes, though, the figure tied on a Venetian volto mask, a Pagliaccio, with its black tears stained red and its lips—most unusually for the style—parted, baring its teeth in a preternaturally sharp grin, and stared at him with its blank, hollow eyes that revealed nothing beneath.

Martin’s muffled exclamation this time was one of fear and panic. This had to be Nikola Orsinov.

Orsinov clapped its (her?) hands. The sculpted expression of the mask, of course, never so much as twitched, but the pleasure certainly seemed genuine enough. “So you’re Martin! You know, when Breekon and Hope told me they had brought me—how did they put it? Oh, yes—‘some fat schlub’—”

Martin couldn’t suppress a muffled bark of annoyance. He knew he was fat, but really, coming from those two…

“—instead of the Archivist, well, I was very unhappy,” Orsinov continued, as if she hadn’t heard him. “I was all set to just kill you and use you for spare parts. But imagine my surprise to see…you!” She gave a merry giggle that sent chills up Martin’s spine. “Oh, yes, I know all about you. You’ve been quite the nuisance these last few years—you and your little friend. What’s her name? Melanie.”

It was difficult to sound threatening with a gag in his mouth, but Martin gave it his best go anyway. Orsinov ignored him. “We really wanted an Archivist for this, but from everything I’ve heard, you’ll do just fine.” She giggled again. “Do you know, Jude actually thought you were the Archivist? I didn’t have the heart to set her straight.”

Martin wanted to point out that Orsinov didn’t have a heart at all, unless she’d stolen that from somewhere too, and that Jude Perry was by no stretch of the imagination “straight”, but it was extremely difficult. He pushed at whatever was jammed into his mouth with his tongue, trying to dislodge it, but it was firm and unyielding. He settled for glaring.

Orsinov waggled a finger at him. “Ah-ah-ah! We’re letting you keep your glasses so you can see, but don’t think you can See here. I’ve heard all about your eyes, Martin! I know what you can do. But try to do that here, and it will be very bad for you.”

Martin grumbled at her through the gag. He wasn’t trying to See; he didn’t enjoy it, and he didn’t really need to, either—he knew she was the Stranger. Besides, it would only drain his energy, and he was going to need that if he was going to escape.

“Now then. Let’s see what we have here.” Orsinov picked up something from a nearby table—Martin’s jacket—and began rifling through the pockets. “Two train tickets from Newcastle to London…dated today. My, my, we are being nosy! A canvas case…” She unzipped the case. “With lock picking tools. I wouldn’t have thought you would go for that, Martin. And…oh? What’s this?”

She held up the tape recorder that Martin had tucked into his jacket on a whim before he and Jon set out for Newcastle; he hadn’t necessarily planned on recording anything per se, but he’d figured it couldn’t hurt to have. He directed a sarcastic mumbling in Orsinov’s direction about whether she was too young to know what a tape recorder was.

“I wonder if it’s any good?” Orsinov turned it over several times in her hands, then pressed the RECORD button experimentally. Since she was right under his nose, Martin was able to see the wheels begin turning, which meant there was still room on it, not that he knew for sure how long each side was. Long enough for statements, that was all that mattered. “Oh, it does work! What have you been recording? Anything spooky?”

Martin tried to tell her that he’d been recording the truth about her assistants, but it still came out as just muffled nonsense. Orsinov didn’t seem to notice. “Is it…your Elias who listens?” She held the recorder up to the mouth of the mask. “Hellooooooooo!”

Martin mumbled a few choice words about Elias’s parentage, the species of said parents, and the validity of their marriage, most of which were swallowed up by the gag. Orsinov continued to address the recorder. “He’s mine now, and you can’t have him back.”

Martin was about to tell Orsinov she was welcome to Elias—even though he knew she likely meant him—but then he realized that the low background humming had increased in volume until it was practically an angelic chorus. He looked at the box again. This time his eyes had adjusted to the dim light of the warehouse, and he recognized the shape of it: a coffin, made of some old, dark wood, with chains wrapped around it. His skin crawled as he recognized it as the one from Joshua Gillespe’s statement—the coffin that was clearly the Buried. But why was it here? He tried to quell his panic and ask Orsinov what the hell she wanted it for; it just came out as vague, questioning mumbles.

Orsinov actually seemed to understand him. “Oh, don’t worry, it’s not for you. You won’t even need a coffin—we’re going to use every piece of you.”

That part, at the very least, was…not a surprise, actually. Martin found himself humming a couple bars of “Every Little Piece” from Pete’s Dragon. Orsinov turned to the two men Martin presumed to be Breekon and Hope. “Now, could you two please move that thing somewhere far, far away?”

Martin found himself emphatically agreeing with Orsinov, not something he’d ever have believed he would do. One of the deliverymen, though, just shrugged. “Not really.”

“Needs to be near us,” the other said, which Martin found interesting.

Orsinov’s expression never changed, but somehow, Martin suspected if she could, she’d be scowling. “Well, just…move yourselves away, and take it with you.”

“Gotcha,” said the first.

“Right you are,” said the second.

They picked up the coffin as if it were an ordinary bit of furniture being moved, one at the front, one at the back. With an ominous rattle of chains, they lurched off into the depths of the warehouse. The eerie chorus gradually faded away until the only sound in the warehouse was the sound of rain, faintly drumming on the roof or windows or both. Martin breathed a bit easier despite the gag in his mouth.

“Right,” Orsinov said cheerily. “Where were we?”

“Oh, really.” Martin almost managed to make that spit out distinctly despite the gag.

“Oh, of course!” Orsinov returned her attention to the tape recorder. “So, Elias, can I call you Elias? Let me set the scene, as I know you can’t actually see this. He’s tied to a chair—Sarah wanted to use nails, but I talked her out of it because I’m a good friend. You’re welcome. And he’s absolutely surrounded by waxworks. Not…good waxworks, though. Weird ones. Wax faces where you almost recognize who it’s meant to be, but then…ah, it’s downright uncanny!”

Martin swore at her in three languages, secure in the knowledge that she probably wouldn’t care even if she could understand and translate them. Orsinov scoffed at him. “Excuse me! I’m talking to your boss, and I would thank you not to interrupt.”

If the gag had permitted him to physically bite his tongue, Martin would have. He didn’t know where the recorders were coming from, but he did know they were hardly a direct line to Elias. Still, better to let Orsinov believe that for now. She might say something indiscreet.

“You know,” Orsinov continued to the recorder, “I must say, Elias, can I call you Elias? You have not raised this one very well.”

At that, Martin couldn’t restrain himself from telling her he’d been raised by someone a lot scarier than Elias, but she ignored him. Or just couldn’t understand him. “He is rude. And he just will not stop asking questions. Ooh, but now, I can ask the questions! How are you feeling?”

Cold. Annoyed. Probably not as terrified as he should be, because this was an objectively terrifying situation, but he was quite a bit less tense now that the Buried coffin was gone. Worried about Jon and whether he’d made it back to the Institute, although Orsinov had said they’d got him instead of Jon. Slightly hungry, seeing as he hadn’t eaten since early that morning and it was…however late it was now. Relieved that it was him and not anybody else trapped in this position. Martin tried to convey all of that in as simple a way as he could, but since he couldn’t twist his wrist, restrained as it was, to flip her the bird properly, he settled for another muffled sentence.

“Oh, wonderful,” Orsinov said brightly. “Now, about the whole skin thing…did the Archivist tell you about that, by the way? Well! We had an ancient relic one we wanted him to find, and originally I was just planning to have him followed until he did. I mean, my goodness, it is very powerful. And if he didn’t come through, well, he’s quite powerful himself, and more than that, he is…symbolically appropriate, so…” She giggled again. “I thought he’d make a lovely frock!”

If Martin had tried to threaten her before when she’d brought up Melanie, he was definitely more emphatic now when she brought up a direct threat to Jon. Orsinov just giggled again. “Exactly! And, well, I was going to wait, but…y’know, have you ever had one of those backup plans that, when you think about it, they’re—they’re just more fun? So I told Breekon and Hope I changed my mind. Only you got in the way, Martin. Just think, you could be safe and secure…but you had to interfere, and get in the Archivist’s way.” She clucked her tongue (did she even have a tongue? Had she stolen that too?) almost sympathetically. “But as I said…you’re plenty powerful, too. In fact, if I hadn’t known who the Archivist was, I might have agreed with Jude. So…out with the old, in with…well, in with the you!”

Martin’s long-suffering groan needed no words or translation. Orsinov reached out and caressed his cheek with one long, plasticine finger. It felt wrong, unsurprisingly, and he shuddered at the unpleasant sensation that ran through his entire body. “You understand, don’t you, Martin? You know all about the power that can be written on a skin. And you’ve been so beloved of your patron for so long…is it any surprise that I realize now you will make the very best outfit for the Dance? You’ll fit me so much better than the little Archivist.”

That, more than anything, finally broke the dam that was holding back his fear. Martin had tried so hard not to be afraid, or at least not to show he was afraid, but now he couldn’t stop himself. He garbled at her incoherently as he struggled against his bonds, trying desperately to break free. He’d always been strong, surely…but no, the ropes were thick and tight and no matter how he fought, he couldn’t even so much as shift the chair.

“Oh, no, I’m afraid he can’t See you, can you Elias, can I call you Elias?” The mask’s expression didn’t change, but Martin envisioned Orsinov baring her teeth a bit more in a sharp grin. “What’s the point of having a secret place of power if you can’t hide it from a big, stupid Eye?” She set the recorder down on the table without turning it off, then patted his thigh, which he enjoyed even less than her touching his face. “Anyway, you sit tight. Lots to do!” She stood up and paused. “Ooh, also, do you have a preferred brand of lotion? Because you have not been taking care of your skin, and we really do need it in better shape before we peel you.”

Martin, with malice aforethought—on the off chance she would actually understand him—rattled off three brands of lotion he knew had been discontinued and one that was only available from those door-to-door salesladies. Orsinov either saw right through him or couldn’t make out a word. “All right. I’ll just ask them to pick up a selection.”

With a flutter of her fingers, she strode away. A door closed in the distance, sounding incredibly ominous and final, and Martin was alone. He took several deep, heavy breaths, trying to settle his racing heart and turbulent mind.

The recorder shut itself off with a preternaturally loud click that seemed to echo in the cavernous space.

A small whimper of fear and despair clawed its way out of his throat. He closed his eyes, trying to force back the tears, but one escaped and wended its way down his cheek anyway. He’d been afraid plenty of times, threatened by the Fourteen and their servants more times than he could count, trapped and injured and manipulated…but this was different. Every time it had happened before, he’d been with Melanie or Gerry…or Jon, or at least known one of them wasn’t far away. Now he didn’t even know where he was, let alone where the others were, and they likely had no idea where to find him either. He’d dropped his phone, so they couldn’t call him and track that, and there was no way for him to contact them. Now even the tape recorder had abandoned him, which was probably a stupid thing to think—they weren’t sentient. Still, they did feel like a presence, a comforting one at that, and if it was off, if it wasn’t listening…

He allowed himself a few moments to break down, then gathered himself and tried to think rationally. Jon was safe, he had to be, even if Martin hadn’t actually seen him make it to the Institute doors. The others would look after him. And he had the log book from Breekon and Hope. Surely, surely they had logged deliveries to…wherever this place was. Surely Jon would be able to figure it out, and they’d be able to rescue him. Or better yet, they’d figure out what was going on with the Unknowing and how to stop it, before it got to the point where…where Martin would be needed. They’d be okay. He would be okay. And maybe he hadn’t been able to break away right off the bat, but if he was just patient, if he worked at it, he’d be able to make it.

For now, he was going to rest. For now, he was going to breathe slowly and deeply and just…relax. He could do that. He could. And then, when he felt a little stronger and calmer, he’d get to work on those bonds. He’d get himself free.

Quietly, he began humming, then singing softly, even with the gag in his mouth. It was the song he always used to ward off the Lonely, or just when one of them was upset or scared, and even if someone listening couldn’t have made out the words clearly, Martin knew exactly what he was singing.

Let the lower lights be burning, send their beam across the waves…

[koris-crumbs]

I’m Here For The Entertainment

Prev-Chapter Two-Next

A My Hero Academia group chat fic

Warnings: None besides cursing, just like part one.

Pairings: Just more Izuku pining for Bakugo, it is very strong in this chapter (;

A/N: Hey again yall! Sorry it took me a hot minute to post the next part. If you’d like speedier updates, you can check this fic out on AO3. I have the same username on there ^^ anyways, I hope you enjoy the show again. Sit back and relax as chaos ensues.

~~~~~~~~~~

#1AllMightStan is online

#1AllMightStan: this entire day was a train wreck ):

LegsLegs is online

MochiCheeks is online

MochiCheeks: aw don’t feel bad bc of what that weird kid from class 1-b said deku

#1AllMightStan: Oh I don’t care about Monoma

MochiCheeks: then what’s wrong?

LegsLegs: I believe Midoriya is referring to Bakugos outburst during class today. He called out Midoriya and Todoroki specifically, so it’s understandable that Midoriya would be a bit upset.

MochiCheeks: ohhhh

MochiCheeks: don’t worry too hard about that either deku

MochiCheeks: we’re gonna do great on our exams (: i believe in us

#1AllMightStan: thanks Uraraka (:

#1AllMightStan: I just can’t help but feel bad

#1AllMightStan: like Ik Kacchan seemed angry, but he seemed a little nervous about the exams as well

#1AllMightStan: he might act all big and bold, but I’ve known him long enough to see the signs that he’s been stressed

MochiCheeks: 👀

#1AllMightStan: every time

MochiCheeks: sorry couldn’t help myself (;

#1AllMightStan: smh

#1AllMightStan: AS I WAS SAYING

#1AllMightStan: I can handle Kacchan yelling at me, that’s not what I’m upset about, I just am kinda worried about him is all

LegsLegs: As you have the right to be. It’s not good for future pros to get too overworked. And as of lately Bakugo has been helping Kirishima study for the practically exam as well

#1AllMightStan: oh yeah

#1AllMightStan: that was nice of Kacchan

TheNewBestie is online

TheNewBestie: jealousy thy name is Midoriya

#1AllMightStan: I am not!

TheNewBestie: the proof is in the pudding

LegsLegs: I never should’ve let you and Ochako hang out alone

MochiCheeks: you can’t stop platonic soulmates Iida

TheNewBestie: for real tho Midoriya, I know it’s hard, but you shouldn’t worry about Bakugo

TheNewBestie: both of you are strong and will pass the exam

TheNewBestie: you are still his rival, even if you do have a crush on him

#1AllMightStan: does it have to be mentioned every five minutes

Kermit is online

Kermit: every sixty seconds in Africa a minute passes

#1AllMightStan: this is my thirteenth reason

Kermit: we talkin about Midoriyas crush on Bakugo???

#1AllMightStan: NO WE WERE JUST MOVING ON FROM THAT ACTUALLY

TheNewBestie: right sorry

#1AllMightStan: no no it’s okay Todoroki

#1AllMightStan: Ik you’re right

#1AllMightStan: besides, I should use this chance to show everybody else what I’ve learned

#1AllMightStan: even tho it feels like it hasn’t been that long, we’ve been through a lot together as a class already

#1AllMightStan: it’ll be nice to see how we’ve grown (:

LegsLegs: I couldn’t have said it better myself, Midoriya.

Kermit: Iida, Ochako is teaching Todoroki tik tok Trends again

LegsLegs: URARAKA

MochiCheeks: 🥴

MochiCheeks: me and todoroki wilding in the hallways rn

TheNewBestie: the way I can hear Iida sprinting around the school looking for us

MochiCheeks: well we gotta run before we get hatecrimed

MochiCheeks: talk to you later deku! bye tsu!

#1AllMightStan: bye guys! Don’t let Iida catch you!

TheNewBestie: he probably will

MochiCheeks: yeah

MochiCheeks: you know damn well we still gonna try tho

MochiCheeks is offline. TheNewBestie is offline.

Kermit: rip

#1AllMightStan: wait Todoroki am I in your will

#1AllMightStan: Todoroki

#1AllMightStan: Shoto please

#1AllMightStan: godammit

[mochiiyaya]

Conflicts

⊱ . .⃗ ༉‧₊˚✧ . ˚ ⚘ ˏ`୭̥*ೃ ۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪✩‧₊✿ ⊰

As Kuroo entered Kenna’s house he yelled out to him but there was no response. He look around to see everything in place as if nothing has been touched in a while. He walked to the kitchen to place down the take out food he brought to eat with him. He finally went to Kenma’s room to find him mopping in the same clothes he last saw him with. He went to open the curtain to let some light enter the room. Kenma groaned at the bright sun entering the dark room which hasn’t had any light.

“Well you really look like you’re going through a bad breakup.” Kuroo trying to lighting his mood, which failed miserable. Kenma turned to the other side to ignore the bed hair guy.

“Okay i’m sorry that wasn’t funny”. Kuroo awkwardly laugh. “Kenma have you eaten anything? I brought food so let’s go eat.”

“Im not hungry.” He finally replied. “Well from the look of it, you haven’t showered much or less eat.”

“I’m too tired right now Kuroo, i don’t feel like doing anything so go away.” He said quietly. “Kenma get up and shower please or else i’m going to carry you there.” Kenma slowly sat up looking at Kuroo in disgust. “Don’t you even dare carry me, I’ll go shower then” Kuroo pouted “Fine then and when you’re done showering come to the kitchen so we can eat together.” Kenma hummed in response.

Once Kenma finished his shower he headed to the kitchen. He sat down across from Kuroo looking unmotivated to do anything. Kenma’s eyes were puffy and had dark circles under them. The bed haired guy was worried about his health but he started serving Kenma a plate so he could at least have something in his stomach.

He placed a plate in front of him. Kenma looked at the food unwilling to eat but there was a loud growl coming from Kuroo’s stomach. Kenma’s eyes widened and let out a small laugh. As he started eating a small smile was formed.

“Soo how are you feeling?” Kuroo asked awkwardly. “Well as you can telling i’m living my best life, i’m very happy. Definitely not been laying on my bed for the past days” He replied sarcastically.

“Kenma you idiot just tell her you like her.” Kuroo said calmly, getting up from his seat walking to the sink. “I couldn’t even do that when someone wasn’t in the picture but now there’s this tall, muscular, nice hair, probably an athlete guy in the picture, i definitely can’t tell her now. I’ll probably have zero chances.” Kenma said as he mopped. Kuroo let out a big sigh as he left to a room. After a few minutes knocks were heard from the front door. Kuroo quickly open it.

HInata rushed in. “Kenma!” He yelled out and went over to him. “I heard everything from Kuroo in my opinion, I don't think Y/n is a type of person to lead someone on. When we all went out together that one time she looked liked she was having a great time with you.” He paused and sighed. “I’m going to say this once and one time only. If you dont even try to fight against that mysterious guy then i don’t think you don’t deserve Y/n so you should let her go for someone better.” Hinata said with a stern look. All eyes were all on him. Both guys eyes widened by what the orange haired said.

“Hinata i dont think that’s very encouraging right now.” Kuroo said worriedly. “This is what he needs to hear right now even if it’s the painful truth.” Hinata added. “He’s right though. Maybe i probably never did deserve her.” “Ke-.” “I dont feel like i do deserve to be around or with her. If can’t fight for her now that someone is in the picture then what’s the point, maybe i should give up.”

Kenma got up and went back to his room to isolate himself again. Kuroo looked back at Hinata and shook his head at him. The orange head guy sighed not knowing if he pushed him in the wrong direction. 

⊱ . .⃗ ༉‧₊˚✧ . ˚ ⚘ ˏ`୭̥*ೃ ۪۫❁ཻུ۪۪✩‧₊✿ ⊰

Sweeter Than Apple Pie | 19

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↳ ❝ Yn owner of a rising bakery cafe. One day a pudding head boy enter with his close friend looking for an apple pie. What will their future bring them when they keep meeting?❞

❥ a/n: HI EVERYONE IM STARTING THIS BACK IM VERY SORRY FOR THE DELAY. theres probably like 4ish chapters left and they will be out around the same time together. i’m sorry again that this chapter is short but please enjoy!

✧ tag list : @tepjameme @rosecarft-lollipop @mochahyuck @hnpriscilla @pasta-warlord @mikantsumiikii @usamizuki @notamazinglizzy @nekoma-hoe @satomiis @simp4tsukkii @achly @lilidrawz @juns-random-world @gabbaeae @cleopatera @mental-instability-xviii-ii @yammmers @alyssasteaparty @fleurnymphet @newfriendjen @glyxiebear @handsoffmyfriends @lollawindsay @bbecc-a @officiallykuute @moonlightaangel @just-snog-already @goodnight-haley @sol-demure @johnnysactualgf @animewithmemes @michelepiekenma @icaruskenma @urmyshinsuke @mirikusashes @daninaninani @babyshoyo @lostmarimoismyhubby @jvhoons @kozumesupremacy @2sj2 @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme @shhhspect @destruhction @iloveyouasmuchaspoohloveshoney @rachelexe @madusas-girlfriend @sukiuqu @a-applepi @elianetsantana @mint-mai @yn-tingz @elixabeth-exe

[pixelwisp-archive]

Itadakimasu!! | Part 10: I Was A Dick (Written Portion Included)

word count: 1.1k 

“Are you gonna keep staring, or are you gonna buy something?”

Osamu whipped his head toward the voice, meeting Kuguri’s cocked brow and knowing smile. He stared, unmoving, eyes comically wide, and he was sure he looked liked a deer caught in headlights. Kuguri's smile widened slightly as Osamu sputtered hopeless excuses.

"I was just - ah - passing by...was just on m' way to the market," he mumbled as he looked down, eyes landing on the real reason he was loitering next to Paradis' Bakery's pop up stand.

The bite-size spheres were packaged two to a pack - the obnoxious, frilly label sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the other bakery goods (whose labels were minimalistic and much more professional, he noted). His eyes flitted over the various berry fillings you had absurdly coated with custard and sweet sushi rice. Quite frankly, it sounded gross - 'deconstructed rice pudding' was not something he ever found himself craving before you made it a thing, and he certainly wasn't craving it now. Osamu scrunched his nose at them and let out an involuntary huff as he brought his arms up to cross over his chest.

"The market is the other way," Kuguri pointed out. Osamu cleared his throat and muttered a dejected 'right'  before he tore his eyes away from the stupid, dumb, little balls of spite and turned to walk in the direction of the market he most definitely doesn't need to go to.

"You know," Kuguri called to him, "if it makes you feel any better - they aren't selling." Osamu stopped, his feet firmly planted to the sidewalk as people ushered past him, hardly sparing a glance toward his frozen frame.

"They aren't selling?"

"Not really. We've had a couple people buy, but to be honest, she ends up taking whatever doesn't sell at the end of the day to the animal shelter down the road," he explained as he dealt with a customer, tossing the gentleman a polite smile and an expertly wrapped loaf of pound cake. Osamu felt his heart squeeze. The small, petty part of him felt smug satisfaction at your own show of pettiness failing - but the bigger part of him, the part that begrudgingly cared, left him with a furrowed brow and the corners of his mouth tugged downward. 

He hadn't known Kuguri for very long, but anyone could tell that the smug look on his face meant he could tell Osamu, for whatever reason, didn't like the idea of you not doing well, financially or otherwise.

"I haven' apologized." Osamu muttered, more to himself than to Kuguri. Kuguri hummed in response.

"I know."

"I should, shouldn' I?"

"I think that would be wise."

Osamu would be lying if he said he hadn't felt some semblance of guilt ever since the curry incident. He often found himself staring at your contact, deft fingers drafting various versions of excuses and insecurities, each draft ending with an 'I'm sorry', before he ultimately deleted it with a sigh. Truth was, he dug his heels into the dirt, and you dug right back, and now it just felt too weird to apologize. He knows the ball's in his court, and he knew that apologizing was the right play, but how he should go about apologizing, he didn't know.

Kuguri noticed this too, he guessed, because he pulled something from his pocket and handed it to Osamu - a note with an address and a phone number scrawled along the top. Osamu threw a questioning glance toward the Kuguri as he turned back to the line of customers.

"It's a place nearby that sells a wine she loves. Tendou told me to tell you to buy her a bottle if you want her to forgive you with no fuss. He also said to give you his number in case you had questions." Osamu didn't dwell on the fact that it seemed almost as if Kuguri (and Tendou, a man he's never met) were expecting him to come for advice. He didn't like feeling so predictable, it made him feel a little too open. With the note clutched in his hand, he shot a wave to Kuguri with a brief nod of thanks, and turned on his heel to head to the aforementioned liquor store.

If he was going to apologize, he was going to do it right.

The last thing you were expecting when you opened the door was a gift basket, neatly wrapped with a bow and a fresh bouquet of violets beside it. You looked it over suspiciously, but when you caught sight of your favorite wine, you assumed it was a congratulatory basket from Tendou and the rest of Paradis Tokyo. You hummed as you grabbed both the basket and the flowers, the small note inside the vibrant blooms catching your eye as you brought your foot up to kick the door closed behind you. You placed both gifts onto the table as you gingerly reached for the card that had been neatly tucked into the beautiful purple bouquet.

'I truly cherish the Small Bliss that is your Sincerity. - S.K'

Your mind drifted back to the peach blossoms that had made their home here just a couple weeks prior, and you beamed at the violets that you've now realized is another gift for Kuguri, from Kita. A grin broke out across your face and you cooed as you situated them in the same place the peach blossoms once stood, card placed delicately in front of the beautiful purple display. You let out a small, content sigh as you turned your attention toward the awaiting gift basket.

The first thing you noticed was the wine, placed in the center, surrounded by your favorite candy. Other, miscellaneous snacks that you love were strewn about, and at the bottom you found an apron - brand new and free of curry stains - in your favorite color. You ran your fingers across the small ruffled pockets and sighed at how soft it felt beneath your skin. Your fingers grazed underneath the pocket of the apron and brushed against what felt like a card. Confused, nimble fingers gripped at the card and softly tugged it from its hiding place, flipping it over so you could get a better look at the front. The cardstock was plain and inconspicuous, and for a moment you thought it was just a placeholder rather than a message, but your nail caught in between and it flipped open to reveal messy scrawl, short and to the point.

'I'm bad at apologies, but I hope this might help it go smoother.'

Your smile fell as recognition struck you. Osamu bought you a gift basket to apologize? How the hell did he get everything you liked, right down to your favorite color? You dropped the card as if it had burned you, wide eyes trained on the ink as it fell back onto the table.

Osamu Miya wants to apologize?

You've got to be kidding me.

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Fun Facts - 

Believe it or not, Osamu *is* a good boy

Kita needs to stop being a shy boi and give Kuguri his flowers in person already ffs

Kuguri, Tendou, and Kita are manning the Osamu x y/n ship and they are willing to make it everyone’s problem 

A/n - finally got chapter 10 out!! I’m SO sorry for the wait. I literally wrote this chapter three different ways before finally settling on this one, so I hope you guys enjoy! Are we finally veering out of enemy territory? lets hope, for my sanity lmao

Taglist - (If you are bold, I can’t tag you! Sorry!)

@larkspyrr @oikawaandkuroostan @fucktheworlddude @doctorspencereid @keiarma @cherriechurros @halesandy @k3nma-fairy @jewlmin @tabipleats @kaleidoscopekai @confusedturtle @vintagexparker @hoeevern @syaziahvg @hallothankmas @lilith412426 @aurorahoneybuns @oikawakuns @reina-de-tay @prettyinblack231 @snowyseungs​ @darlingkuroo

[anzulvr]

୨୧ On Purpose Karma x (fem) Reader || Chapter: 03 ୨୧

Prev || 03 Café Talks || next

— "Hi, How can we help you today?"

As [Name] and Karma enter the Café, they're greeted by Isogai.  Karma winces as the realization of Isogai working there hits him like a ton of bricks. He can't believe he forgot such an important detail.

It's not Isogai he's worried about, if Karma asked him to, he'd keep things a secret. The problem arises if another one of his classmates are here and it somehow spreads to the main campus or even worse- Korosensei, who is known for getting overly involved in other peoples relationships.

A few tables away Nagisa is attempting to back track, "Are you sure we should be here? Don't you think this is too intrusive even for us..?"

"Nagisa, do you realize how much dirt the sadist has on everyone? This is our chance to get back at him so don't wimp out now."

"I am not wimping out! I think If we asked he'd-"

Rio whisper-shouts "Wait look! They're here!"

Karma scans the area, just in case. He chose the café since it's usually quiet, much like today. The only people here were the usual older ladies doting on Isogai trying to set him up with their grandchildren, and an unusual group of people decked in all black and sunglasses. He thought maybe they were coming back from a funeral.

"[Name], you go get us a table I'll order everything."

Name nods, grateful she doesn't have to carry the pressure of that.

Isogai leads Karma over to the register, thinking now is probably the best shot he has to ask any questions.

"Didn't realize you and [Name] are friends."

"She's the only person I talked to when I was in A class, aside from Nagisa."

"Ah makes sense, should I go ask her what she want's?"

"It's okay, [Name] orders the same thing every time, [favorite food + drink]."

"What about you?"

"Surprise me."

Isogai sweat drops "Are you sure? What if you don't like what I pick?"

"I'm sure, thanks Isogai."

"Anytime, have fun with your date..?"

"You won't tell Korosensei about this right? You know how he gets."

"I won't tell him." Isogai feels guilty, Korosensei would find out about this whether he kept his mouth shut or not.

He was in a tough position, he didn't want to lie to Karma but he didn't want to out four of his classmates and his teacher that would hear anything he whispered.

                                    ༉‧₊˚.

"The pudding is so good!" Kayano exclaimed cheerily.

"We know Kayano, keep it down!" Rio hushed her as she took her sunglasses off.

"I think we should get out of here." Nagisa piped up

Rio laughs "Go ahead, Karma's going to see you walk right out."

After shutting him up she then addresses Korosensei's uninvited presence, "If you're going to be here make yourself useful, put the pen down."

"But this is where my inspiration is most flowing..."

"I can’t see anything from here! We should move closer." suggests Hinano,

"No need for that, our job here is done."

"But we haven't heard anything." Rio questioned

"Did you forget I have an advanced sense of hearing?" Korosensei proudly announces before he continues

"Karma confirmed to Isogai it's a date and asked him not to let me find out moments ago! I don't understand why he wouldn't want me to know but that's not the focus..."

Hinano replies "Makes sense, I wouldn't want you knowing if I were him either."

                                      ༉‧₊˚.

Karma grabbed [Names] phone out of her hand, she gave him a half hearted smile. "Who's more important? Me or your phone."

She laughed as she snatched it back

"Sorry, it's Asano. He's been texting me about an event the student council is working on."

"I didn't hear anything about an event."

"I didn't mention it? I've been so stressed out about it I haven't even had time to complain. It's a tutoring group like we usually have but this time we're planning out the lessons beforehand with actual lecture presentations."

"If it's stressful just let them do everything."

She smiled "No way- Asano is such a control freak I think he'd show up at my door if I ignored the messages!"

[Name] pressed her lips together, she'd been wanting to ask Karma something for while but hadn't found a good moment, she figured now was as good as it could get,

"Are you still planning to stay in End Class? I miss having classes with you."

"I miss that too but I like End class, it's not as bad as everyone makes it sound."

"You have to hike up a hill every morning and get judged every time you walk near the main campus. What makes you want to stay?"

"For one, there's no Asano"

She cracked a smile "Hey! There's also no me."

If he wanted to stay, that was his decision. No matter how many times she told herself this she continued to spiral thinking about how everyone in her life was seemingly growing distant.

The explosion of the moon was a nasty reminder that nothing was here to stay. Everything she had today could be gone by tomorrow.

She didn't have any friends other than Kaho, who's been too busy for her. They haven't hung out alone in weeks because of how caught up Kaho has been in her relationships. If Kaho can grow distant in such a short amount of time whats to say Karma won't.

The more name thinks about it the more her voice grows anxiously.

"You won't consider it? Your grades are perfect, as long as you stop fighting they'll want you back."

"And if I don't feel like going back?"

"This isn't just what you feel, You're one of the smartest students- I don't want to watch your work go down the drain over some stupid fights."

"Stupid? if everyone in the main campus wasn't so stuck up, and the teachers weren't so conniving then there wouldn't be problems."

"Don't be like that, I know you're helping people but what's stopping you from coming back? You don't miss me? Why am I the only one who cares about that?"

Her eyes water, but she keeps  the tears from falling.

"I do care about that, what reason have I given you to believe I don't?”

"You aren't thinking of me. I'm starting to doubt you ever do!"

[Name] doesn't know what she's talking about. Everything he's doing for her. She doesn't know her life is on the line and if he left E-class he'd have no control on the outcome. The words fall out before he can backtrack,

"I'm thinking about your future! I'm trying to make things better for everyone!"

"Staying there has everything to do with everyone but me!"

He bites his tongue. He's going to say too much if he continues.

He cares alot more than she realizes. He feels so desperate to assassinate Koro sensei because if they don't it won't just be him dying, it'll be [Name]- and the rest of the world too.

She scoffed, "You're pushing me away, the same way you did Nagisa."

He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could utter a word, they realized someone was coming towards them.

"Karma, [Name]? Are you guys alright?" It was a familiar voice, concerned and hesitant.

"...sorry were we loud?" [Name's] anger fading into resignation.

Isogai sets their order down on the table,

"No, don't worry!" He smiles reassuringly, [Name] couldn't be sure if he was telling the truth or simply trying to not embarrass her.

"We're fine. [Names] just tired."

Karma takes a sip of the drink isogai picked "Matcha?"

Isogai nods with an awkward smile, he's not sure whether he should ignore the fact they were fighting a second ago or try helping, he decides they can fix it themselves.

"I'll leave you alone then, If you need anything else call me over!"

"Thank you Isogai."

Karma mimics her voice in the most exaggerated way "Thank you Isogaiii, don't leave yet Isogai!"

"I don't sound like that."

"You're right, you were smiling way more."

She scoffs in an attempt to hide her laugh, "You're so petty."

He shrugs, not able to deny it "Wanna try my drink?"

[Name] pulls his cup towards herself "I didn't know you liked Matcha."

"Me neither."

He noticed the confusion in her face as she furrowed her eyebrows but he ignored it wanting to get to the root of her problems before they re-escalated.

"[Name], I'm not replacing you or whatever else you've been telling yourself, but I'm set on staying in E-class."

"I know, but we haven't been seeing each other and you got new friends and it's getting to my head."

"If you want to be in the same class so badly just start failing until they throw you down with me."

[Name] deadpanned, her phone rang for the 5th time since they got there.

"Asano would probably stop annoying you too."

She knew he was kidding, but part of her was considering it.

"He wants me to meet with the rest of the council at the library in half an hour."

"Let's eat quickly then, we'll walk there together."

Twenty minutes later they picked up all their belongings getting ready to leave, when [Name] noticed a green haired girl nearly drooling at the sight of pudding options Isogai brought out from the back, she was hovered over the glass display- Nagisa was pulling her hand trying to get her back to their table.

Name pointed at the interaction "Karma, isn't that Nagisa with a girl over there?"

"Huh? Yeah- that's Kayano..." He trails off when he notices their strange outfit choices and it dawns on him. He looks over at the strange group from earlier and makes eye contact with Korosensei. He decides to hurry her out the door before she can catch wind of anything.

"[Name] let's go, you're going to be late."

"I want to say hi to Nagisa, and since when do you care about being on time?"

Dragging her out the door he says "Since today- let's hurry before Asano calls you again."

[jincherie]

florescence | iv

❀ — pairing: taehyung x reader x seokjin ❀ — genre: hybrid au, hybrid tae, hybrid jin, poly au, fluff, smut (future), angst ❀ — words: 5.1k+ ❀ — rating: sfw ❀ — warnings: a pinch of angst... oops ❀ — notes: fiddling and editing, i felt that i needed to expand this bit more so i added some context and cut the end scene off to make the feature of the next chapter

Okay, so maybe you’re lonely, and maybe there is something missing in your life, a void that you maybe want to fill with a companion that may or may not be of human origin… You’re perfectly content not doing anything about it though, until your best friend calls you in desperate need for your help and you suddenly end up coming home with not one, but two hybrids that may or may not have been on the way to the chopping block had you not taken them in. They’re more than a little rough around the edges, and the situation is less than ideal but… maybe the best things don’t always come in perfect, shiny packages. Maybe they just need a little time to bloom.

— posted; 16.11.2019 // masterlist || prev. | next.

"You're not going to be returning to a happy audience, y/n."

Startled from your position where you are crouched tying your shoe, you look up and take in the sight of Changkyun's feline form leaning against the wall beside you, white-tipped tail flicking idly behind him. Somewhat amused yet chagrined since you know exactly what he's talking about, you let out a sigh and finish tying your shoes before rising to a stand, dusting your hands against your jeans.

"I know," you respond, somewhat dryly. The cat hybrid is a little too smug for your liking, having been privy to the problem that's been making itself known in your life this week. "I can't help it though. If they want to keep eating pancakes and meat dishes then they gotta put up with me leaving the house for work. I need food tokens because that's capitalism, babey."

The hybrid snorts, rolling the ring over his lip with his tongue before deciding to deign you with a response. "I don't think I've ever heard anyone else refer to cash money as food tokens, but you know what it has a nice ring to it, so I'll let you have that one."

"Thanks for the charity," you laugh, slinging your bag over your shoulder. The kids that had been under your care for the evening are fast asleep in their beds, so you don't have to worry about them catching you leaving and throwing a tantrum. Their mother, a lovely woman who works as a secretary to the CEO of one of your local well-established businesses, has already returned home to thank you and pay you. Staff meetings that run late into the night are particularly gruelling for her, and you made her promise she was going to get some good rest before she retired. Changkyun, the household hybrid who has too strong of a personality to ever be anything but the only hybrid in the house, has followed you out to the front door, and is making the most of his remaining time to bother you to the best of his ability.

"Have they told you why, yet?" Changkyun seems unwilling to let the previous topic go, persistent in his efforts to pull the latest information from you. Begrudgingly, you play along and give the nosy cat what he wants. He's awfully invested in your current affairs for some reason, probably because he'd been nagging you to get hybrids of your own for so long and now you'd finally ended up with some, to his glee.

"No," you huff. Your eyes slide away from his form, falling upon one of the lovely paintings displayed on the walls as you pout. "They haven't said a word, but they're still acting the same."

You don't like the look that enters the hybrid's sly eyes. "I can help, you know." He takes a step closer, leaning forward with a shit-eating grin. "I know what's bothering them. Just let me--"

"Rude cat, if you know then why don't you tell me!" you protest, poking his chest in a manner more playful than anything. "And stop trying to rub on me, I know what you're doing. They were really grumpy with me after you did it the first time so don't think I don't see you trying to stir the pot, cheeky cat."

Changkyun grins, eyes closing in his mirth as he steps back with his hands up in surrender and lets out a laugh. "Ok, fine! Take all the fun out of it! Live without ever knowing the truth, see if I care..."

You roll your eyes, knowing he's still playing with you. "Right, well, I'm going to go before you somehow manage to indirectly upset my hybrids even more. I'm watching you, Changkyunnie."

At the appearance of the nickname you've given him, the hybrid can't help but let out a purr as he laughs and bids you farewell. "Bye! See you next week! I wonder if you will have sorted out your little problem by then."

It's very tempting to flip him the bird, very tempting, but somehow you manage to restrain yourself and you think it really is a testament to your willpower. You bid him farewell and make a quick escape, mind a little hung on his words as you make your way from the house and down the path to where you parked your car.

Will you have resolved this "little problem", as he so blasély put it, by this time next week? You aren't sure, but to be honest you are a little doubtful. Why? Well...

You’re unsure if anyone ever took the time to try and explain the concept of working and jobs to your two hybrids.

You say this because you kind of assumed that they’d know what you mean when, barely three weeks after you brought them home, you told them you were going off to work and wouldn't be back until later—except it quickly became clear that was not the case and they did not, in fact, know what you meant. You’ve been growing closer and closer each day that passed and despite what their guidebooks said, they aren't continuing to act as withdrawn as they had been and aren't refusing to let you close. You’re overjoyed, of course, at the development, but you had no idea it would mean they would get so clingy.

Somewhat disgruntled at the turn of your thoughts as you climb into your car, you recall how it had all gone down that first day you'd returned to work. “What?” Seokjin’s voice climbed in pitch as he looked to you in alarm, attention torn from the pancake batter he’d been stirring. You showed him how to make it without help the other day and ever since he’s been trying to perfect it on his own. He blinked like he couldn’t believe what you just said, and you swore you could hear a hint of fear riding in his tone. “You’re what? You’re leaving? Why are you leaving?”

“I have to go to work,” you explained clearly, a little amused and endeared at the fact he’d evidently thought you’d be at home with them all the time. “I need to make money to pay the bills so we can keep living here and making pancakes, you know.”

When you brought the hybrids home, you’d immediately taken some time off work—you know how critical the first few weeks are in establishing comfort and an environment and dynamic where they feel safe. You suppose you never paused and thought about whether they realised you’d have a job that you would have to return to at some point. Perhaps this was your fault.

“Wh—do you have to? Do you have to go?” He was still holding the wooden spoon he was stirring with, looking at you with wide eyes. “Please don’t go.”

“I have to,” you affirmed, sending him an apologetic look. You almost forgot Taehyung was in the kitchen with you until you felt a tugging on your shirt and looked to the stool where he was perched and—oh, no, he was giving you the puppy eyes, the most potent pair of them you’d ever seen in your life.

“Hey, don’t give me those eyes, mister puppy.” You reached and booped his nose; his cheeks flushed and his ears lowered. “I won’t be gone long, you’ll survive.”

To your complete and utter surprise, Taehyung pulled away and angled his body in the opposite direction, effectively turning his back to you and rolling his eyes. You were left gaping at the uncharacteristic show of attitude. He… just rolled his eyes? At you? What…

Seokjin decided to pursue a different avenue in the hopes of persuading you to shirk your responsibility and stay. He droped the spoon into the bowl and rounded the counter in a few large steps, moving quick and taking your hands into his hold. He whimpered sadly, already making a very strong argument. “y/n, please don’t go.”

You were weak-willed when it comes to these two hybrids, as you quickly found out, but it is because of how much you care for them that you were able to resist. It wasn’t without another half hour of whining and clinging that you were able to leave the house, though. You work as a nanny for a select few affluent families, so its not like you’re working fulltime office hours, and most importantly you’re always going to come back. You have no idea why they’re so opposed to the idea of you leaving at all when they’ve shown they understand your reasoning…

The previous days you’ve come home after work, you’ve received a fair spread of responses. At first, they clung to you. When you came home after that first day of work (mind you, you were gone barely five hours that time) from the second you walked through the door, your two hybrids all but tackled you and stayed firmly attached to your side for the entire night after that. If they could, you were sure they’d shackle you to them.

The night after that, the reception was a little different. They were upset that you’d left again, and proceeded to let you know—for about the half hour that they could last without cuddling on the couch, that is. All you had to do was pull pudding out of the oven and your treason was forgotten, hybrids by your side and pressed against you once more. This, understandably, lulled you into a false sense of security of sorts. Perhaps they’d get over it soon?

Nope. The days after that, they switched it up in favour of something they seemed to think would be more effective. You’re no stranger to the cold shoulder, and usually quite sensitive to it, but to be honest… their attempt humoured you more than anything. The visible conflict in their expressions every time they attempted to brush you off is probably what was funniest. Every time they ignored you, or didn’t respond, it went against their nature and their usual urges. They’re soft, cuddly boys, you’ve found. And they might be grumpy, but even as they’re trying to make a statement, they can’t help but long for the way things usually are. Their cold shoulder usually lasts about an hour, and then they break. Nowhere near long enough to really have an effect.

But by today, when you arrive home from the job with Changkyun, you think it’s beginning to wear on you a little bit. When you ease the front door open, banging your toe on the frame and letting out a curse in the process, no one comes to greet you. The house isn’t empty (you can hear them scuffling about in their room) and the lights are on, but still, it feels… a little lonely. You huff, slightly grumpy that they’re still throwing a tantrum over this. As much as you try not to let it show, it is frustrating. You have to work! It’s not something you can simply stop doing because you want to, or your hybrids want you to.

You halt in the hallway to the kitchen, making yourself pause and take a breath. You’re frustrated and a little grumpy, yes, but you don’t want them to pick it up. They’re sensitive to these things, you’ve found. You watched a video on Facebook about kittens that made you cry the other day and barely a second after the first tear touched your cheek had Seokjin almost broke down your door, worried to high hell and back because he smelt it and thought something was wrong. You’ve been very careful since then, not wanting them to feel upset or uncomfortable as a result of your own emotions.  

Once you’re sure you’ve collected yourself enough, you continue into the kitchen, placing your bag on the table as you walk past. Humming and knowing that the quickest way to get them out of their mood is food, you open the fridge to stare inside, hoping an idea for dinner will come to you like a vision from above. Your fridge may be many things, but it’s not prophetic, and currently it’s not stocked with much food either. Huffing, you close the door with a little more force than necessary and turn away, wincing at the following bang. Hopefully the eggs are ok.

You’re not much in the mood to make a big meal tonight, so you make the executive decision to pull the tortellini you’ve been craving from the freezer and set it on the bench. Begrudgingly, after a moment of consideration, you pull out a few vegetables to add to the sauce mix. You suppose you better put some effort in, since you’ve already chosen the lazy meal.

True to character, as soon as the tortellini begins to cook in the pot and the smell begins to permeate the air, you hear the sound of light footsteps creeping down the stairs, attempting to go unnoticed. You wonder if they underestimate the extent of your human hearing, or if they’re just really bad at being sneaky.

They don’t go into the kitchen straight away, but they go to the living room, as close as they can get to the source of the smell without giving in and talking to you. You roll your eyes, partly amused and partly miffed. You suppose this is how it’s gonna be.

Considering how easy of a dish it is, it doesn’t take you long to cook and serve it. Instead of calling them to the kitchen to grab it, you slip out of the room and make you way to where they’ve started watching Netflix, next to each other on the couch.

Whether they don’t hear you coming or are still hell bent on ignoring you, you’re able to sneak right up behind them, the back of their heads peeking just over the back of the couch. Your hands slip forward, fingers weaving through the silky locks atop their head and ruffling them. Both hybrids jerk, Seokjin letting out a surprised yelp as he turns partly in his seat to shoot you an alarmed look.

The tension in their forms melts away in the next second as the tips of your fingers and your nails lightly drag across their scalps, brushing just barely the bottom of their ears. You think you hear a sharp intake of breath, surprisingly from Taehyung’s direction, but can’t verify it before your hands leave the top of their heads and your smiling at them as they turn to face you.

“Dinner is ready, bubs,” you say, somewhat humoured by the visible conflict on their faces—they manage to settle on remaining disgruntled, though, much to your disappointment.

They rise from the couch, pouting, and follow you to the dining table. They seat themselves without another word, and as soon as they see you reaching for your fork and taking your first bite, they follow suit. You think they plan to stay silent throughout the entirety of dinner, but you manage to wear them down enough that Seokjin lets slip a few sentences of how their day went and what they got up to. Aside from that, dinner passes quickly and somewhat tensely. It’s an odd tension, though, as though it’s not yet fully formed and kind of incomplete. Like there’s a lack of conviction and commitment to it.

As soon as they’re done eating, like the sweet boys they are they take their dishes to the kitchen, rinse them off and load them into the dishwasher along with the other containers and utensils used for dinner. You rinse your own bowl as well once done and pop it in with theirs; without even a glance in your direction, Taehyung adjusts it so the fan won’t hit it and then slides the full drawers in, placing a dishwashing tablet in and turning it on. Efficient; he certainly wastes no time about it.

Already even before this point, you knew that they were going to try and bolt the second they could—and it seems your predictions come true, as the second they hear the dishwasher turn on and begin its cycle, the two of them are inching towards the edge of the kitchen, barely an ounce of sneakiness to their name. Fighting a sigh, you dry your hands before taking a few steps and using them to definitively grasp their own. As you lace your fingers together, the two hybrids freeze, Taehyung shooting you a wide-eyed look and Seokjin faltering in his stride.

"Will you two stay, if you're not too tired?" You ask, a shred of vulnerability more than planned making itself known in your voice. "They added some movies I really like to Netflix, and I really wanted to show you. I thought we could watch them together...?"

You can tell the second you look at Taehyung's face, his features softened and eyes shining, that he's given up giving you the cold shoulder for the night. Seokjin's slumped shoulders, tension having fled at your words, also tell you that he's on the same page as his brother. You brush your thumb over his hand and feel his grip tighten as he turns to you, smiling slightly.

"Of course we're not tired yet, what did you want to watch?"

You spend the rest of the night curled with them on the couch, tension long gone and only warm affection drawing the three of you together, and can't help but think maybe this was the last of their protests. They're sweet, these boys, and you know part of the reason they're upset is that you're leaving when they want you to be here, spending time with them.

But alas, it is not to be, and your optimism is quickly shot down.

Their reaction to your continued absence during the work days persists. Each morning you wake and get ready for work, your two hybrids are there almost every step of the way pleading with you to stay, offering any bribe they can think of onto the table to aid their bid—cuddles on the couch, snacks, movies, naps. Admittedly, each day it gets a little harder to steel your resolve and actually go to work, but you try not to let them see that they’re gradually wearing you down. They’re too endearing for their own good—it probably isn’t healthy for them to have you as wrapped around their fingers as they currently do.

At this point, you get the sense that it’s not just one, but a number of reasons at play that make them so averse to you leaving for work. It occurs to you that they’re probably still a bit insecure, given their background and the fact they haven’t actually been here that long. But at the same time, it feels like it’s also more than that.

You work as a nanny and babysit children, but since you work for families who are usually perched on the upper echelon, it’s not uncommon for you to be spending a lot of time in proximity to other hybrids as well. Ever since they were first created, hybrids have been a symbol of wealth and affluence. Despite much more of the middle and working class having them as companions these days, in a sense that earlier attitude still stands. A few of the families you work for have hybrids, two of them having more than one. Thankfully, none of them mistreat their hybrids, in actuality you were surprised upon first working for them to find that they’re treated almost as well as the children are. It makes you happy to see such a shift from the common attitude, and the hybrids themselves are all so lovely that even when the kids have crummy days and want nothing more than to throw tantrums, you have no complaints.

Despite just over a week and a half of avoidance about why they’re so grumpy, it seems today is the day you’re finally going to gain an insight into the cause of their behaviour and push your hybrids over a line you didn’t even know was there until they cross it.

It’s a Friday where you’ve just arrived home after working with one of those families with multiple hybrids, that you seem to push your own over a line of sorts. You’re a little tired as you come through the door, eagerly slipping your boots off and hanging your bag and jacket up. Neither of the hybrids come running to greet you, as they might have done before you ‘betrayed’ them and started leaving the house for work. You’re less amused than you might have been in days prior, and more pouty—ever since they started cuddling you you’ve grown addicted, and you miss the warmth and affection when you’re away.

Well, you suppose today you’ll either have to go find them or let them gradually come to you.

Humming to yourself, you bring the take-away boxes of stir fry the family had been so kind to share with you into the living room, plopping them on the coffee table with some cutlery. They tinkle and clank together obnoxiously, as most metal items do, and you open a box and sit back, waiting for the sound and the smell of meat to rouse the hybrids from wherever they’re hiding.

You don’t have to wait long—Taehyung is the first to appear, his eyes lighting up on instinct the second he sees you, before he catches himself and smooths his expression, averting his eyes to the food on the table and taking one of the boxes and some cutlery. Even when he’s pouting, he can’t stand being too far away from you; he perches on the cushion next to you, but as far away as the armrest will allow him so that he can still let you know he’s not happy you left this morning. He’s so cute, sitting there and pouting as he shoves stirfry in his mouth, you can’t even find it in yourself to be annoyed at his childlike behaviour. The two of you eat in silence until Seokjin comes, the male’s soft footfalls announcing his presence before the sound of his inquisitive sniffing does.

You look up as he enters the room, curious to see if the fox hybrid will continue giving you a weak attempt at the cold shoulder as he has been for the first hour or so after you get home every night. He does, but when you give him a pleasant greeting with a bright smile you can see his resolve waver. He grabs his food and cutlery and sets up on the couch adjacent to this one, pointedly avoiding your eyes lest his resolve completely shatter. There is a small amount of tension in the air but you decide to let them finish their meals before you address it. Enough is enough but you’re all also hungry.

The second both of them are done and sitting back in content, you stack the boxes and push them further into the middle of the table so they don’t tip. Your movement brings you closer to Seokjin, and he sniffs subtly before his nose wrinkles and his brows draw down harshly. He doesn’t say anything, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip instead, but you catch it nonetheless.

Curious at the reaction and knowing (hoping) you don’t smell bad, you turn to Taehyung and lean closer experimentally to see if he will give a similar response. He does, still not looking at you—surprise filters through you when you see his features twist into a scowl. Wow, this past week you’re really seeing a new side to the shy baby, huh?

“Alright, what is it?” you ask, throwing the question into the tense air before either of them can bolt and fester with whatever mood they’re in. “Why are the two of you so upset and why do you pull that face when I get close? Do I stink?”

To his credit, Seokjin appears a little sheepish at being called out, cheeks flushing with brief embarrassment—Taehyung on the other hand remains steadfast and petulant, crossing his arms. His ears are lowered and still, he refuses to look at you.

“…No,” Seokjin answers you, eyes flicking away. He’s pouting, tone bordering on a grumble. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

You blink, surprised at the sass and distance he’s suddenly putting between you. It didn’t take you long after they arrived to realise that Seokjin preferred open communication and honesty, but had a little trouble working up the nerve to say things sometimes and hence stayed quiet instead. But this time he’s fibbing to you, brushing it under the rug and attempting to dismiss it when you can see something is up. You can’t help but wonder what brought that about.

“Oh?” you say, turning your gaze to Taehyung—the action makes you catch him while glimpsing at you and he rips his gaze away, cheeks flushing as he scowls more. “It’s ‘nothing’ that has the two of you so grumpy?”

Seokjin’s brows drew together, lips tugging down into a frown. Your words seem to set him off a bit, as he’s suddenly on the defensive. “No.  Maybe. What do you care? You’re never here anymore and you—you probably don’t even care about us anymore. You’re too busy caring about—about other h-people. Whatever.”

Your brows shoot up as he stands suddenly, Taehyung following suit—you can tell that Seokjin wants to stomp off and keep being dramatic by ignoring you, but he can’t seem to make himself skip saying goodnight to you. So he says it, but makes sure to imbue it with as much sass and attitude as possible. “Goodnight.”

Completely taken aback, you watch as they file out of the living room and no doubt go to make their way upstairs to their room. You’re not angry, but you’re definitely a bit confused and feel a little guilty, among other feelings that quickly begin to make themselves known. The two of them know that you look after children for your job, and when you told them it didn’t seem to make them bitter or envious—it seems more than a little out of character for them to be upset that you leave them to babysit kids now.

You’re actually a little hurt, if only because you’re also confused and have no idea why they’re acting this way. You have no idea, and they won’t tell you—you could probe further, press harder, but will that make them tell you, or will it push them further away? You don’t want to risk upsetting them more, and if that’s a possibility you don’t think you could make yourself follow through with it.

Sitting there on the couch, completely alone and very aware of the absence of their warmth, your chest aches a little. You’re new to this, you don’t know all the things a new hybrid owner probably should, and it shows. Your first instinct is to focus on them—what is their problem?—but now that you sit here and ruminate a little, you realise that this is more than a little bit your fault. If you were a more knowledgeable owner, then surely you’d have at least an inkling as to what is wrong. But you don’t, you’re so painfully in the dark it’s shameful enough to make a fresh wave of guilt course through you.

You need to find out more, research a little, but you’re not sure where to start. You have no clue what is bothering them in the first place, and even less idea as to how to solve it. Deep in your thoughts, you rise and begin tidying up after dinner in a bit of a haze. You almost drop the cutlery on the way to the kitchen, but manage to catch it just at the last second. After cleaning what you needed to, you made your way to your bedroom and curled into the bed, a frown tugging your lips of its own accord. It takes you a while to settle down and fall asleep as your mind races and leaves you in its wake. You really hope this whole thing doesn't go on for too long, because it's only been a single night that they've ignored you like this and it sucks.

The next day after you work-- a different house to yesterday, one with two male hybrids of the labrador variety-- the reaction is much the same, if not worse. They don't even come out when you call them for dinner, having arrived home early enough to actually make it today. At some point, they come out and take their plates of food, but you miss it, which you're quite upset at yourself for. The first and only time you see them that evening, is by chance as you emerge from your room after a shower and catch a glimpse of them scuttling back to their own. Their dishes are on the kitchen bench when you go to fetch some water, and it makes your heart twinge a little. They're really not going to talk to you at all? You don't think you're doing anything that bad! You have no choice but to leave for work, you need income so you can support yourself and now them. It's not something you can just drop and never deal with, and you have a feeling they know that and yet... something is upsetting them. You just want them to tell you, so that you can try and fix it however you can.

That night, you contemplate knocking on their door and seeking them out, and even get all the way to the closed door of their room before you halt, hand in the air. Ultimately, you can't make yourself do it. Perhaps, if they want to be alone, then leaving them alone is best. Heart hanging heavy in your chest, you turn on your heel and silently make your way to your room, but not before you utter a soft "Goodnight, boys." knowing that no matter how quietly you say it, they'd still hear it.

Your mood is looking like it's about to quickly spiral, so in an effort to prevent it you find yourself in the middle of a self-consolation session. Tomorrow you don't have any work, a day off you've been looking forward to, so surely that will cheer them up and make them emerge from their shells? You miss them, and as you curl into your bed once more without the lingering warmth of their usual cuddles that you seem to have grown accustomed to, you feel lonelier than ever.

You really hope that tomorrow, things will turn around a little.

a/n: i hope u enjoy it n please let me know what u think! the next part is already partially done so it shouldn’t be too long before the next part is out! hurray for the academic year ending here !!

masterlist || prev. | next.

[mizumelona]

set me up | atsumu x reader

SYNOPSIS: You’re an ambitious career woman, who’s got everything…except a significant other. Your mom, sick of you showing up to family functions alone, sets you up on a series of (terrible) blind dates. You make these dates meet you at your favorite restaurant, Onigiri Miya, but for some reason the owner’s jerk of a twin brother always happens to be there exactly when things crash and burn.

NOTE: This chapter is dedicated to my lovely friend Sharon who encouraged me to start this blog and helps me with my writing. @Sharon I kept my promise hehe.

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~

You tossed Atsumu’s sweater into the washer with your other juice covered clothes and made your way to your bedroom. You picked up your phone to text your mom.

Lovely Daughter:

I think I need to take a break from these dates

You still wanted to find a boyfriend and flex on your cousin, but this blind dating thing wasn’t exactly working out. You cringed remembering that your favorite cream shorts might be ruined for good. Taking a step back seemed like a good choice for now. Maybe you’d spontaneously run into someone worth your time. Blonde hair and a cheeky smirk flashed in your mind.

Huh. What was that? You shook your head. That was definitely not happening.

As you finished sending the message you got another notification.

Boss:

Reminder that our team is working from home this week while they replace the carpets in the office. Can you send me the updated prototype of your project by Friday morning?

Ugh. Working from home was bad news for you. Despite being an overachiever, your home was a safe oasis that was completely separated from your work life. When it came to trying to work while your favorite blanket and TV were 2 feet away, you had no self-control. You tried to look on the bright side. Who knows? Maybe this is the week you learned a little self-control.

~

Onigiri Miya. Thursday 6:27 PM

It wasn’t.

You had plenty of inspiration on Monday but took a break to watch one episode of your favorite sports anime and ended up binging the next two seasons. Tuesday you’d pulled up the files you needed to work on but you saw a manga spoiler while browsing Instagram and decided to binge the manga too. Yesterday you were shook about the most recent cliffhanger and got carried away reading fan fiction. It wasn’t until 5 PM that you realized that the prototype was due in a day but by then you were already fucked.

Cut to you grinding like crazy for the past 24 hours. You’d pulled an all-nighter last night except for 20 minutes at 5 in the morning when you crashed and knocked out on your keyboard. When you woke up there was an imprint of the spacebar on your chin. Finally you had most of the prototype completed, so you were crawling out of your cave for some food.

Sweats, glasses, hair messily pulled away from your face. You haggardly stumbled toward the restaurant. You’d exhausted your instant noodle supplies and had been so focused on finishing the damn prototype that you didn’t stop to eat today. You were pretty sure you were going to pass out if you didn’t get some food in your body ASAP.

You pushed the door to the restaurant open.

“Welcom- woah [Y/N]…you doing okay?”, Osamu paused mid rice ball roll and looked you up and down.

“Holy shit ya look like a zombie!”, Atsumu exclaimed from his usual seat at the bar.

You ignored Atsumu’s comment. You had no energy left for making snarky comebacks. “Osamu. Three Minced tuna onigiri and an iced Calpico please and thank you.”

“Sure…”, Osamu gave you a concerned look before turning to get started on your order.

You dumped your things onto an open table and sunk into the seat. You flipped open the laptop that you’d brought with you and started tapping on the keys. There was a big fat error alert on the screen. Great. You tried to edit the file. Another error. Ugh you were so close it was frustrating. You typed a few more edits in. Success! Loading…

Finally. You leaned back into the chair, staring at the ceiling. You heard some familiar footsteps approaching you. Here he comes.

On cue, Atsumu slid into the seat across from you. “Yo what happened?”

“I’m an idiot. That’s what happened.” You closed your eyes and massaged your temples. Your head was aching from staring at the screen for so long.

He snorted. “I know a lotta idiots but you aren’t one of them” He peeked over at your screen. “What’s with the laptop? This isn’t a coffeeshop sweetheart”

“Work.” You bluntly replied. You scrunched up your face. Sure his voice was smooth as ever, but right now anything but complete silence was making your head pound.

“You’re in a good mood aintcha?” He smirked. You glowered in his direction, your dark circles making you look extra ominous.

“Stop irritating my customers ‘Tsumu” Osamu smoothly shut Atsumu down. He placed a tray of food on the table. “I got three minced tuna onigiri and an iced Calpico”

“Bring me a drink too ‘Samu”

“Get it yourself ’Tsumu”

An upbeat ringtone started playing from Osamu’s pocket. He pulled his phone out and took the call. “Hey babe…I’m just at the restaurant…no, it’s not that busy…wait…what!” Osamu raised his eyebrows.”…Okay yeah I’ll be right there.” He turned to Atsumu. “‘Tsumu close the restaurant. I need to go help Sharon”

“Huh? Ya can’t just-“, Atsumu tried to protest, but Osamu took his Onigiri Miya hat off and shoved it on Atsumu’s head. Osamu scrawled a note about closing early and taped it to the door on his way out. Atsumu stood there looking irritated as he watched his brother run off through the window.

He turned to you. “Well ya heard him. You’re gonna hafta take your rice balls and work home sweetheart”

Wait. You checked your screen. 15%. Rip. Starting the process while you ate dinner probably wasn’t the best idea, but you needed this to finish loading and couldn’t risk it getting messed up on the trip back up to your apartment. You turned to Atsumu, “I’m sorry about earlier. Please let me stay a little longer. I really need this thing to finish loading”

“No way”

“It’ll only take a second” You pleaded with him. He turned to walk away. “Please. Atsumu”

He paused. Wait, was that the first time you’d called him by his real name? He turned back to you with that devious smile he got whenever he had one of his “brilliant” ideas.

“How ‘bout this? You help me clean, I’ll letcha stay here even though I really should be closing up”

“Deal”

~

Onigiri Miya. 45 Minutes Later.

“I’m pretty sure when we made our deal you said it would take ‘just a second’”. The bashful smile from earlier had long been wiped off his face replaced with the current impatient scowl. You’d finished eating your onigiri shortly after Osamu left, and you two had been sitting at the same table sipping Calpico and watching the loading bar for the last 45 minutes.

“It’s really almost done now.” You were running out of excuses to stall for time.

“Hurry it up. I got things to do sweetheart”, he said and took a noisy sip of his drink.

Okay [y/n] we need to think of a way to stall. You went through your options. Hm. Actually, complimenting people usually works pretty well, especially when that person has as big of an ego as this blondie. Okay you decided on your plan of attack.

“Hey” You smiled innocently at Atsumu. “Thanks again for waiting with me. You’re a lot nicer than I thought”

“How many times do I hafta tell ya that that creepy smile isn’t fooling me?” Atsumu set his drink back on the table. “And was that supposta be a compliment? When did I ever do anythin’ to piss you off?” He leaned back, crossing his arms.

“Says the guy who crashed not one but two of my dates”

“I didn’t do nothin’”

“You were the reason the strawberry juice was on the table to begin with”

“I’m also the reason why you’re still here even though I could’ve kicked you out an hour ago.”

You couldn’t argue with that.

“Touche” You leaned forward. “How about we call a truce then.” You held out your hand.

He looked at your hand skeptically. “Truce? That implies we were fightin’ in the first place”

“You gonna take it or not?”, You smiled slyly and waved your hand. “Let me tell you now. I’m not someone you want as an enemy”

“Jeez that’s pretty scary sweetheart.” He leaned forward with his trademark cheeky grin…and was he blushing a bit? “Fine. Truce.” He reached out to shake your hand.

“I know the perfect way to celebrate” He said, rising from his seat. He walked behind the counter and rustled around in the fridge. You heard him mutter, “Where did ‘Samu put it”, as he continued digging around. “Aha. Here it is!”, he declared, finding whatever he was looking for. Atsumu walked back and plopped down in his seat, setting two cups of pudding on the table.

“Haha. Nice.” You picked up one of the pudding cups but noticed a little note stuck to it. “Huh. What’s this?” You pulled off the note to read it. Osamu’s pudding: DO NOT EAT. “Wait a second we can’t-“

Atsumu took the container out of your hands, broke the seal on the cover, and handed it back.

“Atsumu!”, you exclaimed.

“You’re welcome.” He opened his pudding cup and shoveled a spoonful in his mouth. “Mmm”

Well it’s not like you could put it back now that it was opened. You scooped a spoonful into your mouth. Your face lit up. Osamu’s pudding preferences were on point.

“I have a question”, Atsumu asked. “Why were ya tryin’ so hard on those dates anyways? Those guys were obviously trash, and ya don’t really seem like the type that’s desperate for romance.”

What he said wasn’t wrong, and you two were kind of having a moment here. You figured it’d be fine to tell him about it.

“Ugh the thing is” You gulped down another spoon of pudding. “I’m trying to prove something to my family”

“Huh?”

“They don’t think I’m capable of romance, and my shitty cousin loves to rub it in my face. I’m trying to find a guy so I can flex on them”

He smirked. “Hah, that’s real petty”

You pointed your spoon at him. “I don’t wanna hear that from you.”

“Fair point”

Your computer chimed. You both turned to look at the screen. 100% Loaded.

“Yes!” You pumped your fists.

“Finally” Atsumu sighed, scraping the last of his pudding out of the cup. “So, ya gonna help me clean?”

“A deals a deal. Where should I start?”, you said combing your hair out of your face.

“I’ll take the tables. You’re on dish duty”

Atsumu went into the supply closet and came back with a rag. You caught yourself staring as he pushed his sleeves up. Okay the man had beautiful forearms, so what? You quickly looked away.

“You okay [y/n]?”, Atsumu interrupted your thoughts, cocking his head. Shit. You hoped he hadn’t noticed your little slip-up.

“Uh yeah! I got the dishes!”

~

You’d emailed the final prototype and you two were almost done tidying up. The only thing left to do was mopping the floor.

“[Y/N], How about we have a lil challenge”

You raised an eyebrow.

Atsumu brought two mops out of the supply closet, tossing one to you. “I’ll race ya. Last one to mop to the other side loses”

This was stupid there was no way you were about to have a dumb mopping ra-

“Unless you’re too scared”

You gripped your weapon. “Hah, You’re on”

You both stood at one end of the restaurant. Mops in hand.

“Ready” Atsumu clenched his mop. “Go!”

You realized that challenging a pro-athlete to a fair race was stupid. That’s why you didn’t intend to play fair. As soon as Atsumu motioned to take his first step you swiped your dripping mop in front of his foot. He lost his balance.

“Fuck!”

“Haha Loser!”, you turned to laugh at him. Thwack!

Atsumu collided with you knocking you backward. You hit the ground with a thud, securely pinned under him. Shit. He hauled himself onto his hands and knees, looking down at you.

“You cheated!”, he shouted.

“That doesn’t give you the right to tackle me!”, you shot back.

“I wasn’t tryin’ to tackle you!”

“So what!”, you grabbed his collar pulling him back so your foreheads were touching. You both paused. Shit. Did you just do something weird?

You were suddenly very aware of the nice smell wafting off his hair. You gulped. There was a pink blush creeping over Atsumu’s nose. He looked dumbstruck at first but soon a cheeky grin spread across his face.

“Wow [y/n], you’re pretty bold huh.”

“Shut up!”

The chimes jingled and the door opened. You both jumped and turned to the sound.

“Oolala”, the girl who came with Osamu was snickering.

“…is that my pudding?”

~

After that, you’d both apologized to Osamu, properly mopped the floor. You were getting ready to go home now. Luckily neither of you had been seriously injured in your little incident, but any time your eyes met Atsumu would shoot you an infuriating smirk.

As you were about to leave, Atsumu called out to you. “Hey [y/n] I’m gonna need my sweater back soon”

“Oh right! I forgot it at my apartment but I washed it so I’ll bring it by tomorrow”

“Sounds good. Good night [y/n].” As he turned to walk away, he looked back over his shoulder and smiled at you. It was a sincere smile like the one he gave you as he handed you his sweater the other day. You couldn’t help but smile back. This guy.

Your phone buzzed as you started walking back toward your apartment. You pulled it out.

Jerk Cousin:

Family brunch two Sundays from now. Don’t forget you’re in charge of fruit. My mom told me to remind you. She also said to tell you that you can bring a plus one, not that you’d need it lol

~

Onigiri Miya. Friday 11:15 AM

You’d slept like a baby that night, and woke up more refreshed than ever. It was like your 24 hours of hell never happened. You pulled open the door to the restaurant.

“Hey Osamu is Atsumu here? I have the sweater I kept forgetting in my apartment” You rustled through your bag pulling the sweater out. Looking up, you suddenly noticed that the restaurant was more packed than usual, and most of the occupants were looking at you.

“Oya?”

“Oya oya?”

[unmanageable-day]

15. Between a friend and another friend

When you are friends for so long, and it has never come across your mind to date one of them. Until one particular guy friend of yours came to offer you a relationship, a new chapter of life like no other before. 

prev | next

a/n : i hope this is not messed up :’)

Finally, came the day when the last boxes of your stuff had officially moved in to the future house. Nobody was thrilled more than your parents. The big day was really coming and your stomach felt funny. Nervous? Yes, definitely. Ecstatic? Excited? Nah, you were not even sure about that.

After arranging your stuff with typical bickering with the soon-to-be husband, you and Doyoung ended the long day with a big portion of ramyun. He was satisfied looking at the new feeling of his home. The shared closet filled with clothes in similar range of color, shoe drawer that was dominated by your collection of flat shoes, mules and heels, kitchen and dining supplies—including a newly bought tea set, last but not least was the make-up and dressing table full of skin care products.

“The boys want to throw a welcoming party for you,” told him before starting digging in. “For being the new member of this apartment complex, they said.”

“You don't mean a housewarming party in this house, right?”

He chuckled. He definitely read your mind and your horrified expression that you didn't want to do the cleaning after a mess from an occasion with a pack of people. “No. Yuta is booking a restaurant nearby. How about this Sunday? Is that okay with you?”

You nodded, feeling relieved. “Yeah. Sure.”

“Great. I'll let them know.”

“Anyway, Doyoung?”

“Yes?”

“Did Taeyong call you?”

Doyoung was stunned. He had to control his facial expression and his emotion. Thank goodness that he and you had finished eating. Clearing his throat, he started to tidy up the dining table and headed to the sink. “Why?” he asked, his back facing you as he started to wash the ramyun pot.

“Well, I met him, and we talked a bit. I guess he's ready to.. you know, to sort some things up between us. I haven't heard from him again. Did he contact you?”

It takes several days for you to tell me? he said in his head. “Ah, yeah, he did yesterday. We're meeting tomorrow.”

“That's great.”

“Yeah.”

“I hope it will go well for you. Both of you.”

“Wish me luck, I guess?”

“Of course,” you assured him, your voice sounded delighted.

No. Really, wish me luck so I will be the lucky one to get to be with you.

Even the fact that you had decided to move in still couldn't gave him that confidence. He still felt the insecurity consuming him whenever the thought of Taeyong came to his mind.

ㅡ ❆

The dinner with the guys this weekend would remark as the first event after Taeyong finally stopped avoiding you and Doyoung. Hopefully it could be a fresh start for the three of you. You assumed these bestfriends had made up. Although it was inevitable to be the same like the old times, you still wished that things would return to normal.

“Everything will be alright, right?” you asked Doyoung for assurance before heading out. It was funny how you felt nervous to meet your own squad, but as Doyoung's 'housemate'.

“Of course. I've got your back.” He pat your shoulder.

On your way to the restaurant which you decided to go on foot, you were blabbering non-stop about this and that and all random things to overcome the nervousness. Probably it was irritating Doyoung's ears as he didn't respond much. “Okay. Here goes nothing,” you spoke to yourself, breathing in deeply before pushing open the restaurant door.

When you arrived, there were Yuta, Johnny and his girlfriend, Jaehyun, Mark, Donghyuk, Jaemin, Jeno, Sooyoung, and Seulgi already sitting, chattering, and devouring the appetizer. Yuta was the first to welcome you with his loud personality when he saw you by the door. Just then, Taeyong appeared from toilet and he made eye contact with you and Doyoung. You were about to say hi to him, yet he chose to go directly back to his chair. You spotted the empty seat beside Taeyong, so you naturally went there. Doyoung followed and sat down next to you, feeling restless.

“Now that Jooyeon is here, should we cheer for Mr. and soon-to-be Mrs. Kim Doyoung?” Yuta excitedly lead the group for a toast. The mood was instantly liven up, thanks to him. After the first toast, all of you continued to eat.

When you were scanning all the food on the table, Jaehyun offered you a basket of seafood platter, which taken by Taeyong instead. He took the remaining fried fish fillet and put them on your plate, leaving the shrimp and calamari on the basket. You looked at him, not saying anything but he got you. “You're allergic to prawn and you don't like squid.”

You drew a sincere smile. The fact that he still remembered your eating habit somehow made you feel touched. “Thank you,” you almost squealed.

Doyoung silently watched and observed what just happened. Suddenly a bitter taste crept up his mouth although he was munching some baked sweet potato. His appetite was slowly decreasing as he couldn't help but to witness the affection Taeyong showered you.

Taeyong would always picked a food that he thinks you would like. He would make sure that the food he put on your plate didn't contain some ingredients that you disliked. He would check if the food taste spicy or not before he gave some to you. He even switched the chocolate pudding he got for you when everybody knew that it was his favorite dessert.

For Doyoung, this dinner felt like a soft torture he had to endure. He felt powerless. It didn't feel like he was your fiancee. It was like just he was being there as your regular friend. Yes, you were the star of tonight. Being a good friend and partner as you thought you were, you would still talk to him and shared some food, even feeding him with your hand. But Doyoung knew you paid more attention to Taeyong. You were all ears listening attentively to whatever Taeyong was talking about. This bestfriend of yours didn't even steal the spotlight for tonight. Yet he got your fullest attention. And it was shown in his sparkly eyes, how he was comfortably enjoying your company.

“You didn't eat much. Are you sick?” you asked when you arrived home.

“I'm fine.”

“Want me to cook something for you?” You checked the fridge only to find eggs and some side dishes from Doyoung's mom. “Toast with eggs?” you offered.

“That would be nice.”

While waiting for his food, his mind recalled his meeting with Taeyong.

'I assume you already know that Hyemi and I are over,' Taeyong started. 'I've told Jooyeon about that too.' 'I want to say I'm sorry, but I guess that's not the case for you. Am I right?' Doyoung responded calmly. 'You're right.' 'Look, I'm sorry for the way I was. You know how much I value you as a friend. You're very precious for me. And so is she. I'm not gonna lie it still hurts watching her with you. But I guess, I just have to deal with it and overcome it, right?' 'I'd appreciate it. Really.' But, really, how do you deal with it, Taeyong? 'Sometimes I wish you or Johnny were a girl. I'd definitely choose you or him over anything.' The bunny guy tried to laugh without sounded fake. Or awkward. At least Taeyong had tried to make a joke about this already.

Doyoung mindlessly sighed. Although Taeyong didn't say anything weird, what if he tries to win you again this time?

“Did everything go well with Taeyong?” you asked, distracting him and snapping him out of his own thinking.

Getting a yes or no question from you had never been easier. “Yeah, of course,” he quickly answered. Without even thinking.

“I'm glad to hear that.” Soon you joined him on the couch with his toast.

He silently finished the toast, whereas you occupied yourself watching TV beside him. It was oddly quiet. Although you did wonder what might happen with Doyoung, and particularly how his conversation went with Taeyong, you didn't ask him. You didn't tell him what happened when you met Taeyong the other night either. Not telling each other might be a wise choice. Yet not even a single thought crossed your mind that he felt bothered by the fact you and Taeyong had made up.

“Let's go to sleep.” Doyoung got up and put the plate on the sink. He sent you off to the bedroom first.

You had settled under the blanket on the bed while Doyoung was brushing his teeth. Your eyes were shut, trying to sleep but Doyoung's arms sneaking to your waist made you startled and flinched that you abruptly opened your eyes again.

“Sorry. Did I wake you up?” he softly muttered. His fingers traced your hairline and tucked some hair strands behind your ear.

“No,” you mumbled, repositioning your head as you could feel his attempt to shift closer to you.

You wanted to close your eyes again. Yet the way Doyoung intensely stared at you made you uneasy, you had to look away or look at the striped pattern of his pajamas. A part of you was afraid of what he might do if you close your eyes, particularly in this position where you were locked around his arms.

“Do you regret anything until now?”

You squirmed, trying to find a more comfortable position. “Why would I?”

Because there is another man who loves you unconditionally and selflessly. He can make you happy, if you want to be with him. Because he is Lee Taeyong.

Doyoung didn't answer you back. Instead he was brushing your hair gently. Until his hand stopped at the back of your neck. "Just because," he said, before leaning in to plant a soft kiss on your forehead. Then he continued to peck your blushing cheek. He inhaled before he moved closer until his lips were only few centimeters away from yours. “Can I?” he whispered.

You gulped. Your heart was beating like crazy.

This guy was not kidding when he said there is no turning back.

You were contemplating whether to say yes or no. In your mind, both answers would result in awkward outcomes. What happened to 'living with a friend' and 'a roommate sharing a house with'? What kind of roommate who is a friend that do this such an intimate thing?

Oh, wait. Right. Kim Doyoung was not just a friend anymore.

Your eyes were quivering, slightly glancing back and forth at his eyes, his nose, then his lips. Meanwhile he was patiently waiting for your permission, staying still at where he was. You had no idea how your facial expression looked like in his eyes. Was it confused expression? Or maybe terrified? Or even disgusted? That he finally said, “It's okay if I can't.” with a little smile made you even more puzzled. Yet the courage in you suddenly popped up.

"It's not that you can't..." you shyly and hesitantly mumbled, your fist slightly cover your mouth.

The smile on Doyoung's face was getting bigger. “Then it means I can?”

“You said you wanted.. to.. try again..” You couldn't believe you said that. Never had you wanted to be buried alive, or suffocated yourself against the pillow due to embarrassment like this.

Moving away from your neck, his hand reached yours and squeezed it a bit to make it more relaxed. He gestured to guide your hand to hold on to his slim waist, or his back if you wanted. “We're taking it slow, okay?” he whispered as his palm found the back of your neck again. As he leaned in closer, you closed your eyes in panic, just like the first time. You would just let him take the lead because you were already dying from being embarrassed although this is not the first time.

In seconds, his lips finally met yours. Properly, this time. It was a gentle kiss, not particularly a short one since he took a good time to feel the softness of your lips. As if he wanted to preserve the taste of your lips, and at the same time, he wanted you to remember the shape of his lips too. Along with the feelings and the quiet atmosphere when you were just focusing on each other. It was far from a passionate or a hungry kiss as he didn't want to scare you. At least he was hoping it was good enough to make you get used to this.

You almost forgot how to breathe, having no idea how long the kiss lasted. It felt like forever honestly, although it didn't mean you found the kiss awful, or unpleasant. It was just weird to kiss, to be kissed romantically by your very own friend. Maybe you should try to get rid of this kind of thoughts, especially Doyoung will be your husband in a matter of weeks.

He finally released your lips for a breathe of air. Yet he didn't shift away as he still had his nose and forehead against yours. “How was it? Not very bad for the second time, right?”

Unable to look at him in the eyes, you curled your body and buried your face, snuggling against his chest. “Stop asking how it was right away after we did it,” you whined, giving playful slaps while he chuckled at your reaction.

[thetailorofenbizaka]

Chapter 1–The Tale of the Scissors, Act 6: Past Life; Scene 4

The Tailor of Enbizaka, pages 138-143

Those peaceful days continued for a little while.

No new murders occurred, but neither was Mei and Miku’s killer captured…Time simply flowed onwards.

Kayo and Kokutan-douji continued on a temporary life of mother and child. Kokutan was embarrassed to be living with her as a freeloader, and so would frequently help out Kayo with her work.

“Thank you. You’re very good with your hands, Ren.”

In practice, despite the fact that he had told her that he’d never sewn before in his life, Douji showed considerable skill at it.

“I’m surprised myself. I didn’t think I’d be so good at sewing things.”

“You’re particularly able when it comes to handling foreign clothes. I’m quite ignorant on those, so I’m very grateful for that. …Now the tailor shop will be secure even when I’m gone.”

“Don’t say things like that. I’ve still got a lot to learn, and besides which everyone still comes to the tailor shop looking for you to fulfill their requests.”

Looking at it from the side, they appeared to be a true mother and child, sitting together in harmony.

I was of the impression that Kayo had begun to smile much more often than before.

“Oi, is Kokutan—I mean, uh, Ren here?”

Still engendering his usual atmosphere of thoughtless optimism, Inukichi had come by to visit.

“Yo, Inukichi.”

“You look hard at work. Feels like you’re really the son of a tailor now, eh?”

He had already come to visit the tailor shop like this many times before, and so Kayo was acquainted with him.

“My my, Inukichi. Welcome.”

“Good day, Kayo-san. …Here you are.”

Inukichi handed something to Kayo.

“What’s this?”

“Apparently it’s the specialty of this foreign country—I think called Lucifenia. It’s called br…bri-something?”

“Goodness, thank you. …Well then, I’ll go prepare some tea,” Kayo said, retiring to the back of the house with the “bri-something”.

Douji continued sewing and asked Inukichi, “How have things been going for you, Inukichi?”

“Ah…Can’t seem to get anywhere,” Inukichi replied with a frown. “Bufuko-chan is way more serious than I thought. She won’t even turn her head for me.”

“Er, that’s not really what I was asking about…”

“You mean my job? Well, for that I’m always going out to the sea for something or other. To look for that mermaid.”

“A mermaid…Never thought I’d hear that name again here.”

“I don’t know if it’s the same mermaid that you met in Momogengou….But maybe if we catch it and are able to talk to it, we’ll be able to get some new info on your mother. So with that in mind I’ve decided to work real hard at fishing. …And they pay pretty well too, these Freezis Foundation Firm people!”

Inukichi pumped his fist excitedly.

“Thanks, Inukichi.”

“Well, looking at you it seems like you might not need me to. You could just keep living with Kayo-san as her kid, couldn’t you?”

“…Maybe so.”

Douji stopped working and aimlessly looked up to the ceiling.

“…I feel like I’m mistaken in something.”

“Mistaken in what? Doesn’t Kayo-san fit the mermaid’s description of your mother right down to the letter?”

“That’s just it. –Is this ‘thing that I have to do’…really to find my mother in the first place?”

“Hey hey, it’s a little late for that now. That’d mean that coming to Onigashima was a big waste of time.”

“Coming here to Onigashima…I don’t think that in itself was a mistake. When we first arrived here, I felt very strongly that there was something here. But whether or not that was Kayo-san…I just can’t be sure of that.”

“Hmmm…”

Inukichi folded his arms, appearing to consider something for a moment.

Then, next he said:

“I could introduce you to her, I guess.”

“Her?”

“There’s this missionary named Elluka at the Freezis Foundation Firm. Apparently she’s this awesome person who’s saved the hearts and minds of many people in Evillious and Maistia. And I also hear she can do some sorta strange arts or something.”

“…That sounds a bit shady. A missionary? I’ve got no interest in foreign religion, you know.”

“Don’t say that. The proof’s in the pudding, man. Maybe you’ll find out something just by hearing what she has to say. I guess she’s sick or something because she’s always resting, but lately her health’s been picking up and she’ll go on walks outside occasionally—Right now you’ll probably be able to meet her by the trading house.”

“Can I not meet her inside the trading house?”

“I can get in fine, but you’re an outsider, so…I dunno.”

“…Well, I guess nothing’ll start by sitting here thinking about it. Alright. I’ll go meet with this Elluka.”

“Oh, really? Well then, let’s get—”

“Before that, though, let’s have some food.”

The very next moment, Kayo appeared from the back carrying a plate with tea and the sliced “bri-something”.

“Come now, eat up.”

At Kayo’s encouragement, Douji and Inukichi both put the “bri-something” into their mouths.

“Mm, this is good.”

“Delicious.”

As she smiled and watched the two of them eat, Kayo once more stood up.

“Alright then, I’ll be heading to Oyuka-san’s place for a bit of business. So please watch the shop while I’m gone.”

“Alright…Oh, but,” Douji told Kayo a little awkwardly, “We were also planning to head out soon.”

“Is that so? Well, I don’t mind that. Just make sure you properly fasten the doors before you leave.”

So saying, Kayo put on her footwear and headed outside.

<<prev------directory------next>>

[bewareofchris]

Public Relations 19/??

R atm | Alec Hardy/Dr. Bill Masters | Broadchurch, Masters of Sex | Strong language, eventual sexual situations

“The fact that Alec Hardy was not currently, had not ever, and did not want to date the American sex research did not seem very important at all to the town of Broadchurch.  They did what they had always done with a little bit of juicy gossip: they made a spectacle of it.”

<< prev | Part 1

a/n: I just wanted to say that even though I generally am a failure at responding to any sort of comments, I do read them.  I just want to say thank you to anyone that has ever left me a comment, you’re lovely and I appreciate you.

Bill must have loved his wife.  At some point, he must have loved her.  He couldn’t have been enough of a bastard to marry a woman just because she checked a box that he needed checked.  

Sure, he was enough of a bastard to realize that he’d simply gotten bored of her.  He’d built up a tolerance to the comfort of a well-kept home; he’d grown resentful of her attempts to make him happy.  He’d blamed her for wanting more of his attention than he wanted to give; he’d punished her for his own guilt.

But before all that, when she was fresh, and new, and not yet resigned to the limited life he’d been willing to offer, he must have loved her.  He must have looked forward to seeing her face in the morning.  He must have slid his arm around her back, and leaned into her body in the kitchen.  They must have kissed like newlyweds over cups of steaming coffee.  He must have listened to her plans for the day; she must have told him to have a good day and that she’d miss him.

(It was just, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember that giddy, electric feeling of falling in love.)

Bill didn’t have a wife to kiss in the kitchen, but he had a hot cup of coffee from the new machine he’d finally purchased for himself.  His house was quiet as an empty church but he had his phone, and Alec’s early-morning-thoughts waiting for a response.

Alec said:  

What are grits?

They don’t pleasant to eat.

Who thought of that name?  Grits?

Is that description of the texture?  

I get to go to work today.  At least for a few hours.

There must have been a name for the sort of smile that reading those nonsense texts brought to his face.  Bill knew there was something ticklish, and dangerous wrapped up in the way he had started looking forward to waking up.  He didn’t want to put any words to anything; he just wanted to enjoy the moment.

Bill sent back:

If you’re set on insulting grits, I’ll be forced to bring up blood pudding.

Or really anything that you might call pudding.

And then we’ll have to talk about haggis.

The anticipation of a future response kept a smile on his face all through getting dressed, and morning traffic.  It filled up his voice when he said hello to Betty and accepted his schedule for the morning.  It kept him company in his office, standing by the window, thinking that he really should get a plant sooner or later.

He really should be doing a good deal of things.  He should be looking for a new partner to fill the vacant role.  He should be interviewing divorce lawyers.  He should be coming up with a reasonable custody arrangement regarding his children, one that he was going to fight for.  (Because, removed of his own selfishness he did love his children.)  

His phone chimed from his pocket.  He was smiling even before he made it e through the lock screen to see the text waiting for him.  The conversation with Alec was still open on the screen, but the new message wasn’t from him.

No.

The message was from a phone number he’d memorized, but never programmed into his phone.  It sent a spike of something that felt like joy, and anger, and fear coursing straight through his body.  It left his hands clenching and his knees feeling just a bit wobbly, just for a matter of milliseconds. 

Bill didn’t open it.  He spun in a circle like the person that had sent it would be standing behind him.  He could imagine exactly what her expression would be, how neutral her smile would be.  How perfectly parted her hair always was.  He could almost smell the scent of her perfume-and-laundry soap.  There was the phantom ache of wanting that was so sudden and so sharp that he could convince himself nothing had changed at all.

But he was alone in the room.

It smelled like yesterday’s vacuuming and a fine layer of dust.  

Bill lifted the phone again. He steeled himself against hope-and-disappointment, and he opened the message.

I’ll be back to work next Monday.  I’d appreciate the chance to meet with you regarding a few necessary changes.

Oh hell.  If he’d been given a thousand years, Bill would never have been prepared to hear from Virginia ever again.  

--

Are you alright?

The text had been sitting in place for nearly a full forty-eight hours.  Hardy consoled himself that, should this be the end of something, he hadn’t lost much.  A great flurry of texts, and a bit less boredom in his day was all he’d gotten from this ongoing situation.

(But something had changed for Bill.  And maybe Hardy had sat like a silly old man and scrolled through everything he’d sent to the man in the past few days.  Maybe he’d tried to work out if poking fun at grits was something that couldn’t be forgiven.)

The long-long stretch of silence had left him restless.  It had aggravated a condition that he’d been ignoring.  While Broadchurch had been able to start the healing process (at least until the trial began), Sandbrook was still an ugly red wound in Hardy’s past.  

The Latimers knew what happened to their son; they knew who had done it.  They were able to bury their child with some idea that justice would be served.  And where justice wouldn’t do, they had enacted vengeance.  (Against Miller, who deserved it least.)

Sandbrook was an unanswered insult.

Sandbrook was a quickening of his tired heart.

He sat on his front porch, with his elbows digging into his knees, listening to the sound of the waves.  He kept his eyes closed, and his mouth hanging open to draw in the thick wet air.  He concentrated on clearing his mind of terrible memory of a little girl’s corpse left to rot in water.

He tried to unwind it from the memory of his wife, standing by a car, whispering: ‘you’ll kill yourself over this.’

Because Hardy wasn’t going to die before he’d finished.  If he kept his eyes closed, and he thought about it very hard, he could remember the details.  He sorted them out in his mind, rearranging them into familiar patterns.  There was an answer in the jumble, if he shook it enough times it would have to make sense.

The chime of his phone, left sitting inside on the counter, dragged him back out of the fog.  Hardy squinted out at the brightness of the sun sparkling on the water; he flexed his fingers to work off the chill.

Maybe he told himself that he wasn’t going to run inside to see if he’d finally gotten a response.  He told himself that he could make whoever was bothering him wait.  (He told himself that regardless of who it was, they deserved to wait.)

But Hardy was already getting to his feet, dragging himself up the few steps and through his door.  He found the phone in the kitchen and opened the screen to find that Bill had finally sent a response.

(And Hardy thought, he almost wished Bill hadn’t.)

The woman with whom I had an affair is coming back to work.

I loved her.

Yes, well.  Hardy had loved his wife and look how that had turned out.  Sometimes it wasn’t enough to love something; sometimes it just didn’t work.  Hardy was still trying to figure out how Bill felt about things when the phone chimed again.

I think I was happy before.  I haven’t been happy since I got her text.

Hardy frowned at his phone.  There was nothing to say, and still he had to say something.  

He sent: You don’t have to let her come back.

Bill said: It’s not her fault.  

It’s not always about whose fault it is.  

It’ll be fine.  We’re both adults, and I needed to hire new staff members for a while.  I’ll hire one, and she can hire one.  

That was the plan of a desperate man.  There was no telling if Bill wanted her back or didn’t.  There was no telling if he was trying to protect himself from her, or protect her from him.  Maybe it was the same thing between them.

All settled then.  Hardy sent.  So, I believe you still owe me an explanation about grits.

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