#So I didn’t bc I’m counting on my parents pulling through with the present

[victory-cookies]

praying that my parents go get that pearl pink 3ds I want it so bad 😭 I can’t afford it and it’s exactly in the range they would spend on a bug gift but I’m worried that even if they consider it they won’t go get it in time and it’ll sell

[tonowarii]

Young and Dumb, with a Broken Arm

Pairing: Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan x GN! Human! Reader

Requested?: Yes

Summary: A tale of you and Lo'ak's shenanigans, but this time, it ended up with you supporting a broken arm.

Word count: 2.0k

Warning/s: graphic description of injury, slight angst bc bro its lo'ak, swearing, hurt/comfort, but fluff towards the end!

Note: I truly believe this was supposed to be just a funny little one shot but I spilled a little bit of angst onto this one 😶

GIF is not mine, credits to the owner!

"I bet you can't climb a tree faster than me."

"I bet you can't jump down from this branch on your feet."

"I bet you—"

It has always been a game of bets and pranks between you and Lo’ak growing up.

You two were considered partners in crime, not seeing the otber without one following close by.

You two were always up to shenanigans that ended up Jake scolding Lo’ak around two to three times a week.

Lo’ak would get scolded on about bringing you in to his reckless ideas, putting you in danger, while you watched to the side as Lo’ak suffered Jake’s wrath.

You didn’t have anyone to scold you, technically, your adopted parents were back in the lab and they often had little to none news of what you were doing out and about with the Sully family.

Yet there was no stopping the two of you.

You had also grown to play pranks on each other, one time you had Lo’ak’s bow super glued to its place that when he went to grab it, and when it wasn’t budging, he pulled on it with all his force that he fell straight onto his ass. After that scenario leaving his butt sore, he could hear you laughing from the outside.

He retaliated by hiding your quiver of your own handmade arrows.

It took you a whole week of pestering Lo’ak and when he finally had enough, he retrieved them from behind his bed. Which earned him a smack on the (lower) back from you.

Now at present day, you were bound to doing something stupid again.

“Look, trust me, mom taught dad this one.”

Lo’ak says, looking out off the edge of the cliff towards the huge green leaves that sprung from the huge trees on opposite sides.

“Yeah, that looks like a quick death to me.” You reply, stepping to look out of the edge yourself.

Lo’ak huffs, placing his bow behind him. He looked like he was getting ready to jump.

“When have my calculations ever been wrong?” Lo’ak looks down to ask you, a smirk forming on his face.

“Well…” You say in thought, looking up.

“Shut up, that was one time.” He spoke.

You laughed.

“Come on, are you really living if you’re not trying this out? Or are you just being a wuss?” Lo’ak teased. He surely knows how to get on your nerves.

“Oh, you’re on, forest boy.” You accept.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” Lo’ak cheered. He then gets himself ready, adjusting his bow behind him and backing away to gain momentum.

“But if you die, I’m taking your toruk stuff toy.” You say to him.

“Pfft, watch me, human.” He rolls his eyes at you. Then he breathes out before running and jumping of the edge, his body now facing the ground as he fell.

You ran over to the edge and watched, watching how Lo’ak gracefully switched between leaf to leaf, slowing down his fall as he successfully plops to the ground on his feet.

You knit your brows as Lo’ak yelped, feeling the rush of adrenaline coursing through him.

To be honest, you hadn’t done this before.

“(Y/N)! Come on!” Lo’ak shouts at you from below. “Just like what I did!”

Oh, the things you’d do for this boy.

You didn’t have your bow with you today, so you just braced yourself, backing up the same as Lo’ak did.

Eywa, if I fall to my death, please reincarnate me into anything that can haunt Lo’ak for the rest of his life

You prayed with a slight chuckle.

Or even reincarnate me into an avatar, that sounds cool.

“(Y/N)! Did you finally back out?” Lo’ak’s voice stopped your thoughts.

“Like hell I did!” You shout back at him.

Breathing out, you ran with all your might and jumped.

You did what you saw, and at first, you were successful after a few leaves.

But then everything went downhill on the bottom half.

You concentrated on moving your body from side to side that you had failed to notice a looped vine on one of the leaves, that when you landed on it, your feet had fit the exact loop.

Your foot got stuck, making you lose your progress as you panicked, failing to reach the opposite leaf, making you almost hover a few feet up from the ground.

And that’s when the vine snapped.

Your eyes widened, thinking first to prevent your mask from taking the fall as your body was quickly reaching the ground.

“Shit! (Y/N)!!” You hear Lo’ak scream as you flipped to your side, hoping the mask doesn’t break.

And you hit the ground hard. With a cracking sound.

“Fuck, fuck!” Lo’ak swore, running over to you, flipping you onto your back as you had your eyes closed.

Lo’ak, in a panic, lifted you into his arms, immediately going to check if there was any damage to your mask as his hands, almost two times bigger than the size of your face, traced over your mask.

It looks like there was no damage, but he could hear your faint breathing.

Then he takes a glance at your arm and it was almost the most terrifying thing he has ever seen.

And he was a hundred percent sure your arm, or even a regular na��vi’s arm, should not bend that way. “Shit.” He mutters, huge blue hand going over to lift your arm to find your forearm falling limp, almost like jelly.

Then you stirred, making Lo’ak’s eyes widened. “Can you hear me? (Y/N), (Y/N) look at me!” He says, shaking you.

The first thing you registered was Lo’ak who was hovering above you.

Then came the searing pain from your arm.

Lo’ak watched as you stared at him, then in seconds your face contorted into pain as you cried out loud.

Lo’ak felt a pang in his heart, making himself want to cry, almost feeling your pain, but he knows he can't afford to act this way.

“Hold on, (Y/N), alright? Stay with me.” Lo’ak says as he stands up, carrying you in his arms. You continued crying, making Lo’ak frown as he quickly found his way to an opening, calling out to his ikran.

Once it arrived, Lo’ak wasted no time making tsahelyu as he carried you in front of him.

“Go, go!” He screamed at his banshee, who scurried to take flight.

Lo’ak could still hear your cries as he bites his lip, not wanting to look down at your face because he knew it would only pain him more. His heart pounded in his chest; he wanted you to be okay.

Please be okay.

Reaching High Camp, Lo’ak carefully gets off his banshee and he once again carries your small body.

“Norm, Norm!” Lo’ak called once he finds the human figure of Norm talking to another scientist.

Norm turns, his face paling once he realized Lo’ak was carrying you, your bent arm in full view.

“Holy shit, come on, bring her in here!” Norm shouted, earning a few looks from the other villagers.

Norm opens up the door towards the shack, wasting no time to grab the necessary kits to use.

“Lay them down there!” Norm commanded. You had fallen unconscious again.

Lo’ak followed, not minding that he was running out of breath being in the shack as the oxygen was not capable with his body.

He places you down carefully, removing your mask so you could be seen clearly.

“(Y/N), c’mon wake up.” He whispers, seeing your tear stained cheeks makes him let out a shaky breath.

“Lo’ak, I’m sorry bud but you’re going to have to give us some space.” Norm said.

“But I’m—” Lo’ak gasps out, eyes scanning to find a mask made for the na’vi inside the shack. Once he had his hands on it, he breathes through his mask before placing it down.

“I’m not leaving.” Lo’ak said, stubborn as always.

Norm sighed but he let the boy stay. “Sure, kid, just keep out of the way, yeah?”

Lo’ak nods, finding a spot for himself in the corner where he could see you being monitored by Norm, and then he was joined by Max.

He could hear them talking and scanning your vitals, but he only thing he focused on was the rise and fall of your own chest.

A few good ten minutes had passed when the door opened, and it was the last thing Lo’ak needed to see.

His dad.

“I heard what happened.” Jake entered, carefully going over to Norm and Max.

“They took quite the fall… but their vitals are stable now, except for their broken arm which I’ll estimate would heal about two weeks or so.” Max said.

Jake nods, looking at you on the table, brows knitted in worry.

Then his eyes cast over to the corner to find Lo’ak looking at you, wearing the same worried look.

Jake bites his lip, of course, how could he have not known?

He spares his son the lecturing this time, figuring that your health mattered the most to him.

But that wasn’t stopping him from comforting his son.

Jake carefully trudges over to where Lo’ak was.

“Hey, kid.” Jake said, kneeling down so they were almost face to face.

“Dad- dad I’m sorry I didn’t mean to-“ Lo’ak begins explaining, his voice cracking in the process.

Jake lets Lo’ak lean his head on his shoulder as Jake sighed. “It was an accident, I know. They’ll be okay.”

“But dad- It was my fault—”

Jake shakes his head. “I don’t think they’ll blame you for it, kid, the two of you are quite the troublemakers.” Jake said, trying to ease his son.

Lo’ak then lifts his head, eyes darting towards your form, seeing your arm now had a bandage around it, a cast, he thinks its called.

Jake breathes in the oxygen from his own mask before patting Lo’ak on the back. “I don’t blame you and neither do they. Just make sure they’re okay, yeah?”

Lo’ak nods, feeling an instant relief provided by you and his father. As Jake left, Lo’ak stands up, slowly making his way toward you.

“They’ll be alright, I think its best giving them a couple of hours to rest.” Norm says. “Thank you.” Lo’ak said.

Norm nods at him before walking out with Max to leave the two of you alone.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N).”

Then as if on cue, you stirred again, your eyes shut as you tried to move.

Your eyes slowly blinked open. “Wha-“

“We’re back in High Camp,” Lo’ak quickly said, he then assists you in sitting up, then his hand delicately ghosts over your cast covered arm.

“I bought you here… Norm and Max helped fix you up but they said your arm would take about three weeks to heal.” Lo’ak said in a low voice.

You looked at him as he was looking at your arm. Then you glance back at him. “Well, that’s a bummer.”

Lo’ak was caught off guard by your reaction as he turned his head to face you.

“What?” You looked at him, only then you realized how big his face actually was compared to yours.

“I just broke your arm… that’s not “a bummer” that’s like… worse than bummer.” Lo’ak said.

You laugh. “Why? Did you personally come to me and broke my arm in half with your bare hands? No, no you didn’t. It’s not your fault. And have you forgotten? We grew up literally almost befriending death because of our stupid bets and pranks.”

Lo’ak finds himself smiling, remembering quite the few bets that almost had the same outcome as this. “I suppose so… whatever you say.”

“But you’re still a skxawng for not catching me back there.” Your voice turned serious and Lo’ak’s face looked like it was drained of its color.

You laugh out loud again, gaining the courage to lean yourself against him, feeling his bare skin on yours felt something to be remembered.

Lo’ak, upon the contact of your head on his chest, had his tail swaying behind him in content.

He sneakily wraps an arm around your smaller form, his hand resting beside your thigh.

“This time I’ll be sure to catch you.”

[laughing-with-god]

The Unsaid Vow (Prologue)

Synopsis- You always knew when you weren't wanted. And the way things are going in your marriage with Jungkook, a divorce is looking more and more likely. While he's getting closer to a woman at work that you're certain he's having an affair with, you're planning your escape with your four-year-old son. However, five years of marriage did not expose you to a certain side of your husband. A side of Jungkook that only gets triggered when you try to leave and break apart your perfect 'family'.

Warnings- Yandere behavior, graphic language, violence/murder, women bashing on other women, heavily implied infidelity, bad parenting, absent father, broken family vibes, very slow buildup bc Jungkook doesn't really snap until you leave him so just give him a min lol, inexperienced author writing for a four-year-old (I never wrote for a kid before pls gimme a break), also I chose my future son's name for this fic but pls feel free to name him whatever you want :)

Slow burn Yandere Husband Jungkook

Word Count; 5.4k

Unlike the vast majority of married couples, neither you nor Jungkook donned wedding rings.

Never in your five years of marriage did you regret this decision, given it was brought upon by you and your husband’s lack of funds for fancy wedding bands at the time of your rushed marriage.

Well, you were never annoyed....until tonight, that is.

The scene before you was exceptionally intimate, so much so that you felt the instinctual need to look away in respect of the two before you.

The woman was gorgeous, effortlessly attracting all the attention the small conference room had to offer. In addition to this natural charisma spurred on by her borderline enchanting looks, her short and skin-tight red dress showed off her pleasantly curvy body. Her long, silky, and jet-black hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail that provided a simple background for her darling features. Utterly doll-like was her face; petite, creamy in complexion with bright doe eyes and berry-pink lips.

Such a beautiful woman was currently in the arms of an equally, if not more so, attractive man.

He was tall and slender, yet not at all lanky given his sturdy build that was a testament to his strict workout regime. His olive skin was complimented with occasional tattoos, a mix of faded and fresh ink that you knew like the back of your hand despite only the tats on his hand currently showing in his crisp Valentino suit. His mid-length inky black hair was down to frame his sharp face, and indeed it was a very handsome one consisting of full eyebrows, bow-like lips, a fleshy yet impish nose, and two large, yet seemingly bottomless, raven orbs.

This man had his arms encircling the middle of the mysterious woman, her expression lifting into a light-hearted giggle as she leaned forward to whisper something in his ear.

Whatever she said must’ve been amusing to the man, given his usual stoic facade briefly melted away as he allowed a small smile at her words, his pearly round teeth peeking out for a split-second appearance.

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought that these two were lovers.

But there was only one problem with this scene.

That was your husband, Jungkook.

And that woman in his arms was not you.

As if sensing your distress and wanting to soothe your well-founded suspicion, Jungkook pulled away from the woman and ran his gaze across the room- only stopping when he spotted you. Your spouse then gestured at you, the girl following his line of sight and landing on you and your pitiful spot by the snack table. Her joyful expression briefly dropped for a blink-and-you'll-miss-it second, but she quickly plastered on another grin and nodded. The two then strode their way over to you, barely giving you enough time to steel your nerves and muster a polite purse of the lips.

Before you knew it, the woman was right in front of you with your partner at her side instead of yours. Much to your dismay, she was only more attractive up close, and you narrowly held back a grimace as she held out a hand in introduction. You took it and shook it lifelessly.

“Hello, you must be Mrs. Jeon. I’m Sana, Jungkook’s colleague.” Even her voice was pretty, musical and light to the ears.

“H-Hi, nice to meet you but please call me Y/n.” A brief and awkward pause as Sana briefly sized you up and down. “Um, Jungkook has never mentioned you….” you trailed off, side-eyeing your husband in hopes he would intervene and add context to this random goddess he’s thrust upon you.

Jungkook gracefully took his cue and explained, “Sana transferred from another branch out of the city and has only been with us for five months. I’m her case supervisor and have been taking care of her, showing her the ropes and whatnot.”

Sana didn’t even spare you a glance as she fondly looked up at your husband, coyly biting her lip and saying in a much softer tone that could've been just for his ears only, “And he’s been really good at taking care of me.”

You didn’t consider yourself a jealous stay-at-home wife who obsessed over the tiniest details between her husband and other women, but the double meaning behind her badly-whispered comment was enough to make you splutter in disbelief. However before you could even gather up the courage to ask just what the hell ‘taking care of me’ consisted of, two new faces waltzed up and joined the conversation.

“Are you all enjoying this fabulous Christmas party?” A tall, broad-shouldered but nice-looking man asked in a tone of familiar amicability.

You thankfully smiled up at him, having met him many times before.

His name was Jin, and he was the one who got Jungkook this job.

It occurred about five years ago when you first told Jungkook that you were pregnant. Being the romantic but overall good guy that Jungkook was, he insisted that you two get married so that your child could have parents who were at least husband and wife. In addition it would also lessen the judgment in your two families, which at the time was extremely appealing to you. You had agreed to marry on one condition: after running to the courthouse you two would need to move in together in a decent apartment with a room for the nursery. But getting an apartment would mean month-to-month rent, and Jungkook’s tattooing gigs weren’t stable enough to ensure that.

Jin was originally a friend of Jungkook’s older brother, but when he heard through the grapevine about the issue, he bought Jungkook a couple of suits and offered him a job at the corporation he worked at.

Now Jungkook made more than enough money to support your little family, and it was all because Jin took a chance on a college drop-out and his knocked-up girlfriend.

You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off by the unknown lady beside Jin.

“I’d say a little too much fun if anything. Sana and Jungkook, we get that you're the infamous office couple but maybe tone it down a bit, huh?” She joked while raising her brows at the close proximity between the two.

A long and tortuous silence swept the scene.

Jin glanced at you, pity swimming in his usually carefree eyes.

Not trusting your voice to say anything and desperately wanting to hide your face from the piercing eyes, you distracted yourself by taking calculated sips of watered-down eggnog.

“Daehyun...this is actually Y/n, Jungkook’s wife,” Jin told the lady in an uncomfortable voice.

You didn’t know what stung more, the fact that this stranger thought that there was more chemistry between Sana and your husband than with you, or that it was Jin who corrected this mistake and not Jungkook himself.

“O-Oh, well it’s nice to meet you.” Daehyun awkwardly said to you while avoiding direct eye contact.

You offered a tight smile, “Pleasure.”

Whatever gratitude you could’ve had for Daehyun’s clear embarrassment quickly vanished when the woman went on to continue, “I’m sorry. Jungkook never mentioned being married and he doesn’t wear a ring so I didn’t even know. I bet it must be interesting for his housewife to meet his office wife though, right?”

She laughed, not realizing that she only succeeded in putting a foot in her mouth right before stomping it all over your pesky little heart. The group didn’t seem to share your uneasiness, all three of them politely chuckling along to the lukewarm joke at your expense. Once again, you focused on your dwindling beverage to avoid the burden of speaking or even facing them directly, too scared that your miserable expression would be unanimously inspected.

“Well, we just came over to recruit you all for some karaoke!” Jin cheerfully announced, clearly trying to change the subject, “There’s a machine in the break-out room and it’s more fun to sing with a group.”

“More like you want an audience.” Jungkook wittingly teased, a handsome smirk on his face as Sana playfully scolded him with a push to the chest.

“I’ll take your jabs now Kookie because I know they stem from your insecurity that I can actually upstage you in the vocals department.” Jin rebutted in good nature, even letting your husband’s old nickname slip.

Daehyun and Sana both guffawed at this declaration, exaggerated disbelief present on their faces.

“Jungkook is the best singer in the office. He’ll upstage you without even trying.” Daehyun said in a tenor of utter confidence.

“Only one way to find out!” Jin brushed the comment off, pointing to the direction of the assumed breakout room, “Karaoke anyone?”

The so-called office wife nodded enthusiastically, taking your husband’s arm and looking up at him to plead, “Can we do a duet of that one song we like?”

Jungkook, for the first time in seemingly hours, shot you with a questioning gaze.

Be married to someone for a while and you’ll learn how to decipher what they’re trying to say with just mere looks. Your husband was wordlessly inquiring if you were going to join, if he should go along with the group or if you two should break away and do something else.

The ball was finally in your court.

Not wanting to be rude but needing to get away from these people before you lost your cool, you decided on a subtle excuse.

“I need a refill, but maybe we can meet you all later?” You said, shaking your empty paper cup as if to prove your case.

“Oh, well the drinks are right behind you.” Sana condescendingly pointed out, tightening her hold on your husband and began steering him towards the exit, “We’ll save a seat for you.”

Bewildered, you watched as Jungkook obediently followed her lead with the Daehyun girl trailing behind.

He didn’t even spare you a glance.

You wanted to be angry.

You wanted to storm up to your husband, yank him out of the clutches of his colleagues and practically drag him back home under the premise that he would never speak to Sana ever again.

But instead of a righteous rage fueled by the marital vows you two took, utter exhaustion bestowed upon you and prevented any instigation on your part.

Maybe earlier in your marriage you would’ve fought for his attention, but now you simply just wanted to go home and lick your wounds with the help of a Ben and Jerry’s ice cream while self-obsessing over Sana’s outrageous attractiveness. After all, who could blame any hot-blooded man for choosing that goddess over you? What could you possibly do but lean back and accept that she was the obvious choice?

Other than her being a knockout beauty while you were merely average on your best day, she had other qualities that made her a more appealing catch. She was most likely younger than you, obviously fit, more ambitious and professionally driven than you, and presumably has no kids.

Meanwhile, you were just an old stay-at-home mom who lived off of her husband’s paychecks while he fucked his coworkers behind her oblivious back.

Before you could draw more detailed comparisons between Sana and yourself, you felt a large hand place itself on the middle of your back, successfully guiding your attention to the only person who bothered staying by your side.

Jin smiled sadly at you, sympathy shadowing his expression as he gestured with his other hand to the empty cup still in your hold. “Let’s get you some more eggnog.”

You nodded wordlessly, still speechless from the interaction, and allowed the taller man to guide you towards the snack table. Jin then took your cup and refilled it himself, providing you the opportunity to pick at the catered food in some cheap attempt at stress eating. By the time Jin came back with a full cup, you were halfway done with a sugar cookie and eyeing the meatballs next.

“Here ya go,” Jin said as he handed over the drink to you. You took it and nodded in thanks but kept your eyes glued to the food, not wanting him to see just how defeated and tired your face probably was. But, Jin wasn’t going to let the whole thing go. “Y/n….I know what you saw and heard looks really bad but trust me….nothing is going on between Sana and Jungkook.”

You snorted. “It doesn’t just look bad, Jin. It was like they were practically rubbing it in my face. Him having an affair isn’t the problem, it’s the way they’re not even bothering to keep it down. The least they could do is be discreet.”

Jin’s jaw slightly dropped, “‘Him having an affair isn’t the problem’? Y/n, do you even hear yourself? Of course that would be a problem! Do you not care about your own marriage anymore?”

And there it was.

The big question.

Did you truly even care about this marriage?

Well, let’s look at the facts.

One: The disrespect of his alleged mistress was more offensive to you than the fact that she was a mistress.

Two: Jungkook dragging you along to this office Christmas party was the first time in over a year that he bothered to take you out.

Three: You two had humble beginnings and could barely afford food, much less wedding bands when you first got married, but now he was a very wealthy man and had no excuse for not buying you or himself a ring. Unless, of course, he enjoyed acting single around other women.

Four: And on top of all this, it had to be factored in how distant he has been with overwhelming work hours that prevented any alone time with your husband. Sex with Jungkook has been off the table for almost a year now.

But did any of this really bother you until tonight? The answer was a resounding no. You were willing to take all those burdens in stride but tonight it wasn’t just about the fact that you were the unwanted wife Jungkook got sacked with, it was the fact that you were humiliated and forced to face the type of girl Jungkook should’ve been married to all along. That was all you were truly upset about.

The conclusion that you indeed didn’t care about your marriage and haven’t in some time now hit you in a sudden wave, but in no way were you shocked.

Voice shaky and brittle, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with Jin and say the one thing you always secretly thought but never dared utter out loud. “I-I guess I always expected it to end like this. When we were younger, he was always the popular one and all the girls wanted him. We were only dating for three months when I got pregnant, and if it weren’t for our son he probably would’ve dumped me eventually and left for another girl. But, he stuck around for his kid because he’s a good father. And I’ve been nothing but a burden to him for a while now.”

Tears began to blur your vision, forcing you to quickly duck down and quietly sip at your drink so as to not embarrass yourself even more.

You heard a shuffle and suddenly Jin was holding you, using both of his lengthy arms to cage you in and rest you against his broad chest. It had been a long time since a man had held you like that, and you practically went boneless at the contact. You closed your eyes and tried to will away the incoming tears, even going so far as to solely focus on the scent of Jin’s cologne as he soothingly said, “Y/n, listen closely to what I’m about to say. You and Hugo were never a burden to Jungkook, and you two never will be. Your marriage was sudden, but it doesn’t make it less valid than any other marriage out there. Jungkook has been with you for so long, he just doesn’t realize when other women are interested in him because he’s been off the market forever. But I promise you, if I knew for even a second that he cheated, I would tell you right away.”

You didn’t say anything.

Although Jin’s words were comforting, they weren’t necessarily true. A marriage that started from a healthy courtship and true love instead of inconvenient circumstances was of course more valid than yours. And even though you were sure of Jin’s honesty and loyalty to you, Jungkook could’ve easily kept his affair secret from Jin as well.

However, you didn’t wish to concern Jin anymore. You already put him through too much awkwardness tonight and didn’t want to keep him by your side as some sort of emotional sponsor any longer than you already have. Jin always loved parties and was the life of any one he was invited to, even if it was just a lame annual office gathering. You then felt guilty for putting Jin in a situation where he would even have to console you when he should be out enjoying karaoke with the rest of his coworkers.

You promptly pulled away from Jin and wiped at your face. He released you and also took a step back, carefully studying you for any signs of further turmoil. Once sure that your face was acceptably dry, you gazed back up at him and offered a thankful smile. “Thanks Jin, I’m sorry I just dumped all of that on you. I really have to use the ladies' room though, can you point me to it?”

“It’s right by the conference room,” Jin informed, pointing out the general direction for you. You nodded and took a few steps toward it before he grasped your wrist to stop you and ask, “Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll just find you and Jungkook when I’m out. Go and join the others for karaoke.”

Jin nodded but seemed unsure.

You didn’t look back to see if he actually went to follow the others, instead just advancing to the restrooms, secretly looking forward to some alone time even if it had to come from a public bathroom.

Once you entered the restroom you were relieved to find it completely empty, you weren’t sure if you could handle another run-in with Jungkook’s female colleagues. They all seemed to have a personal vendetta against you.

Instantly, you dashed to the mirror to inspect your makeup, assuming at least the mascara was ruined from your little cry. Thankfully, the damage was minimal and you were able to clean the smudges up with a damp napkin. You focused all your attention on the dreadfully small task, trying not to study your reflection too much given it would just conjure up more mental comparisons to all the other prettier women you encountered that night.

Yet the small task couldn’t last a lifetime, and you had to resort to looking at your phone in search of things to do. You weren’t emotionally ready to go out and search for your husband, so you wanted to prolong your time in the bathroom. Although it hasn’t been that long since you left the house, you decided to text the babysitter for any updates about your son.

To Emily: Hey, is everything okay with Hugo?

It only took about 40 seconds for the teenage neighbor girl to text back an answer, clearly on top of things and overly eager to provide any updates.

Emily: Yes! He ate his dinner, took his bath and we’re about to get ready for bed.

Your motherly instincts were satisfied with that response, but it didn’t do anything to subdue your desire to return back home. Your thumbs briefly hovered over the keypad, somewhat hesitant with the next text you were about to send.

To Emily: Great, thanks again for doing this. Listen, I think we might head back home sooner than we thought. Don’t worry tho, I’ll still give you the pay for the full four hours.

Before you could wait for a response from her, the sound of multiple incoming footsteps interrupted the steady silence in the restroom. Muffled female conversation could also be heard, the slight laughter and bickering amongst a group of women approaching the bathroom. Your fight or flight instinct was triggered, and to avoid any more awkward encounters you rushed to the nearest stall and shut the door- fully prepared to wait out the faceless group of female colleagues.

You heard the restroom door swish open before the women burst in, chatting and giggling with their heels clicking against the tile floor. One of the unknown females made way to the stall beside you, the others presumably hovering by the mirror if the sudden comments about their appearances were anything to go by. You quietly sighed and pulled out your phone again, ready to drown out their office politics talk.

Only for the conversation to somehow steer towards you.

“Did you see her?”

“Of course, I was very confused, to be honest.” One of them replied. “I mean….look at Jungkook and you just assume that whoever he’s with is drop-dead gorgeous, and she was just eh.”

“Yeah, she was pretty plain. What was her name again?”

“Y/n.” A third voice cut in, this one eerily familiar to you.

You glued a hand over your mouth to silence your gasp.

It was Sana.

“Did he ever mention her around you? You are the closest to him in the office Sana, and we didn’t even know he had a wife until tonight.”

“No, I didn’t know until tonight either.”

“What?! That’s insane. Literally all the time he spends with you: getting coffee, buying you lunch, driving you home after late nights, and he conveniently never mentions that he has a wife at home?”

“That’s suspicious. But I guess if I had a dog like that at home, I’d never mention her either.”

Cruel laughter from all of them.

The toilet from the stall next to you flushed, then opened as a new voice entered the discussion while she approached the sinks.

“It’s more than suspicious. He doesn’t even wear a wedding ring. And he’s so close to Sana but never mentioned that he’s married?” A pause as she washed her hands. “It’s obvious what he’s trying to do. Jungkook is trying to have an affair with Sana.”

Although this exchange was extremely hurtful to you, you felt somewhat relieved that you weren’t the only one to see what your husband was doing.

A pause hung in the air as none of the women spoke for a minute, they were willing to gossip but apparently outright declaring the obvious was a step too far for them.

Eventually, one of them chimed in with their own observation.

“Can you blame him? Sana you’re the most beautiful person in the office and you look so good next to him anyway. Much better than that cow Y/n.”

Another round of obnoxious laughter that broke your heart.

“C’mon guys. We gotta head back. Jungkook is gonna get anxious if Sana is away for too long.” Someone teased.

They all murmured in agreement, heading towards the exit as a group before one stopped them with a final question.

“Wait, Sana. If Jungkook does want to have an affair with you, what are you going to do?”

Although you couldn’t physically see Sana, you practically heard the smirk on her face as she said, “Who says we already aren’t having one?”

--

Needless to say, you ditched the Christmas party almost immediately after the bathroom incident.

You texted Jungkook a white lie about Emily struggling with Hugo, although a good father would’ve known something was up because your son had never given babysitters any trouble before. But luckily, your husband also wasn’t doing so hot in the dad department either.

You would’ve felt bad for not telling the truth if the truth wasn’t so fucking embarrassing.

“Hey, I’m gonna go home to cry like a little girl because I caught your coworkers talking shit about me. Oh, and also your little girlfriend accidentally let it slip that you’ve been fucking her this whole time. K talk to ya later!”

You grimaced at the thought of actually sending that text.

Sure it’s what that cheating bastard deserves, but you just weren’t emotionally ready for that fight yet. Especially after the night you endured, you needed some time to pick yourself up and figure out what to do next.

Divorce was the next logical step, but you were financially dependent on Jungkook. If you moved out and took Hugo with you, where would you two stay? How could you afford to be a single parent? And if Jungkook were to try to fight you for custody or the divorce in general, you would need a damn good lawyer. Unfortunately, lawyers weren’t cheap, especially one that stood a chance against Jungkook and all his wealth.

Your shoulders sagged with the imaginary weight of all these burdens.

When you entered the high-rise penthouse that you called home, you were surprised to see Emily anxiously pacing the foyer in waiting for your arrival.

“Hey, how was Hugo?” You greeted politely, already opening your clutch to pull out the agreed-upon salary.

“M-Mrs. Jeon, I swear I tried to have him in bed by eight like you said but he’s being stubborn and said he won’t go to sleep until you come back and read to him-” The teenager rushed out all at once, clearly nervous that you would scold her.

You held a hand out to stop her rambles, using your other hand to give her the money, and offered her what you hoped was a comforting smile, “It’s okay, Em. Thanks for doing this on such short notice. Why don’t you run home now and try to enjoy your Christmas Eve?”

Emily looked relieved that you weren’t mad, gratefully taking the cash before grabbing her jacket and shoes to make her exit. “Thanks so much for this Mrs. Jeon. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas.” You farewelled while walking the young girl out, locking the door behind her.

You turned around and proceeded down a long hallway that led to the bedrooms, stopping at the door beside the master room which belonged to your four-year-old son. You opened it to peer inside, the familiar deep blue walls with painted-on sea creatures greeting you back, swiftly reminding you once more of Hugo’s obsession with the ocean.

Your son was bundled up in a twin bed so big that it practically drowned him, his small frame barely being recognizable in the large fish-printed duvet wrapped around his tiny frame, only his small and adorable face peeking out to stare right back at you.

Hugo was essentially a carbon copy of Jungkook. At first you were somewhat resentful about this, how was it possible that you carried a baby for nine months and he came out with absolutely none of your features? But after a while of watching Hugo grow up and come into his own slowly but surely, you were pacified by the conclusion that while he may look exactly like his father, his personality and heart took after you.

“Dumpling, why did Emily say you were giving her a hard time and wouldn’t go to bed?” You asked gently, sitting by his side and petting his black hair.

‘Dumpling’ was a nickname you chose for Hugo since you first found out you were pregnant with him. It stemmed from your sudden pregnancy craving to eat dumplings and nothing else, you once even going two straight weeks surviving off the food. There were many times where Jungkook had to bribe you into eating other things, playing on your guilt for not providing your baby all the nutrition he needed. But even now ‘Dumpling’ still stuck, if Hugo’s chubby cheeks were anything to go by.

“Mommy, I-I’m sorry but-” His big doe eyes looked up at you in teary guilt, “I really needed you here. It was a nece-necess-”

“Necessity, bub.” You finished for him, grinning at his attempt at a big word.

Part of you wanted to scold the boy for being difficult, but you didn’t have the heart to. Lately, Hugo has been more clingy to you than ever before. Yet it was practically impossible to punish him because Hugo has always been a good kid and you knew deep down that he didn’t act out unless there was something else going on. You suspected that it had something to do with the lack of his father’s presence that forced him to hold onto you like his life depended on it.

“Well try not to do it again, okay? Emily is a nice girl and she’s just following my orders when she tells you to go to bed.” You said, ducking down to peck the crown of his head and continue running your fingers through his hair.

Hugo nodded in understanding but ultimately stayed silent, basking in your cuddles.

All was silent for a passing moment, and while Hugo enjoyed his mother’s touch, your mind gradually returned to the turmoil that was your marriage.

A sudden epiphany struck you and bit your lip as you debated an idea.

Should you expose your son to your future plan?

The victim of any divorce has always been the children who were left behind. And the last thing you wanted to do was blindside Hugo. Perhaps you should play the hypothetical game just to see where your son’s head was at? It went without saying that Hugo was closer to you than Jungkook and you were more of a parent than your husband. But still, every kid deserved to have a say in their parents’ divorce.

“Bub, how would you feel if….it was just me and you?” You hesitantly inquired.

“What do you mean mommy?” Hugo titled his head in bewilderment and craned his neck to look back up at you.

“What if me and you went away to live together?” You clarified.

“Like a va-vayca-”

“Vacation? And no. But forever. Just me, you and no one else.” You whispered, as if Jungkook himself would storm in and catch you planning your escape with the toddler.

“Oh.” A pause as you could practically hear the mechanisms in his four-year-old brain trying to work out the logistics of what you just proposed. “Okay.”

The nonchalance in his youthful voice had you taken aback.

“It’s a really big decision, Hugo. You wouldn’t mind...not living with daddy anymore, right? You would hardly ever see him, dumpling.”

The boy shifted to lean more of his body against you, essentially resting against you with his head on your chest as he said, “But it’s like that already, mommy.”

Your heart broke.

You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer to you, feeling a maternal instinct to comfort and protect.

“Okay Dumpling. I need you to promise me not to tell daddy what we talked about.”

“”Kay.” Hugo yawned and closed his eyes, inhaling deep breaths of your scent and beginning the process of falling asleep. “When do we leave?”

“It’ll take some time, bub. You start school in a few months, so mommy will try to find a job while you’re there.” You told him, not bothering to try to explain the concept of a lawyer or apartment deposits on top of that. “But we can do this. It has to be a secret but you're my partner in crime.”

“Like spies?”

You chuckled, “Yeah, like spies. Promise to work with mommy in utter secrecy?”

You held up a pinky, one that Hugo grasped with his own.

“Promise.”

Author’s Note:  So....A while ago before I took my long ass hiatus, I did a poll for which yandere story I should write next.  The Unsaid Vow won but that was around the same time that shit hit the fan in my life.  Recently was scrolling through my notes on my phone and found some of the plot points for this story and I needed a lil break from QQ.  Plus I know so many ppl were hyped for this concept so....Here ya go lol.  This is kinda short but it’s just a set up, Chapter one’s plot line will start a few months after this when Hugo will start kindergarten and Y/n will actually start looking in to jobs, lawyers and apartments.  Also I’m sorry but I’m really bad at writing for kids lol, and I absolutely refuse to write that gross ass baby talk so just pretend your son is a lil genius okay? Also srry Once but I needed really pretty girls to be villians in my story so yeah, Twice girls in here aren’t likable but aren’t reflective of how i actually feel about them lol.

Big thanks to @sushireads​ once again for creating the cover art for this fic.  They literally are becoming my go-to for fic art.

And my beta readers @bigbuffjoonie and @mustardpop​! They beta’d for QQ and I came to them really early about this fic.  They were with me since the beginning and have given me advice with creative choices to just simple grammar.  They easily could’ve leaked the first draft of this too but they didn’t and kept it secret for a while.  I was really insecure about getting out of my comfort zone with this plot but they really guided me.  

[yuzukult]

acquitted love || sjn & reader

title: acquitted love pairing: johnny suh x reader genre: fluff, angst, co-workers!au, lawyer!au, one-sided enemies to lovers word count: 8.7k warnings: some language/cursing, brief mentions of sex but there's no actual discussions or explicit conversations of the topic, but generally pg-13 prompt: you absolutely hate johnny suh. but when your boss pairs you two up together for one of the highest profile cases, you’re left working close with your enemy but he doesn’t seem to think that way of you. a/n: tada!! i wrote this for the @/ficscafe fic exchange event!! so @urlocalnctstan​ , hope you enjoy this !! i tried to write it according to what you put as your preferences, but honestly T_T it was so hard bc i was just not getting any ideas!! hopefully this is something you’d like :D enjoy !!

“God, isn’t he just… so attractive?”

Along with a click on your tongue, you feign a hit in Hyeri’s direction, whose reflexes have gotten so much faster in the past couple years of knowing you and it shows when she cowers underneath your arm. She gifts you that not-so-apologetic smile, full of mischievousness because she knows no matter how annoying she can be, you’ll still love her nonetheless.

“Why do you keep talking about Johnny? You know he’s banned as a topic of our conversations.”

Hyeri rolls her eyes, crossing her arms over her white frilled blouse. You know that she doesn’t actually inhabit any romantic feelings for Johnny, but she has a problem of thinking without the usage of her brain when she sees a hot guy.

Not that you think Johnny is hot.

No.

“Come on, you can’t tell me you don’t think he’s at least an ounce of smokin’ hot.” She’s unraveled her arms by now, poking your shoulder incessantly to grasp onto your attention as you're tapping on the buttons of the copier machine. “I bet if you asked him out, he’d say yes.”

You briefly glare at Hyeri. “You realize that he and I don’t get along, right? He keeps finding stupid loopholes in the system to win his cases. He thinks with his heart, not his head, and sometimes, with whatever that thing was in his pants.” And, not to mention that he walks out the court with that big grin stretched from cheek to cheek, giving the ‘good news’ to your well-respected boss (who you desperately seek the approval of but that’s a different story for another time). And every single time, she gives him that nod of appreciation, that ‘nod of approval’ if you will, when it should be given to you and not to some asshole who fucks his way to victory.

“But he’s so hot—”

You narrow your eyes at your friend, and with a stern voice, you call out, “Hyeri.”

She shrugs. “Honestly, though, he’s hella smart. He’s got a job here, and works under your boss. It’s Park, Kim & Associates—notice how Park is first, because she’s a fucking genius. She only picks the intelligent ones to work under her. Why do you think I’m still working for Mr. Kim?”

Park Seohyun and Kim Gonghyun—one of the biggest lawyers in the region, decided to join together to build their own law firm from the ground up. They were both highly respected in their field; Kim Gonghyun spent years of his life being mentored by one of the most famous judges, and as for Park Seohyun, she was, simply put, admirable because of the obstacles she has overcome to make her dreams of working in law to be real. Being a woman, young, and beautiful, she’s had her fair share of encounters with people who disregard her potential, that is until she met Gonghyun—who, admittingly is an old man who seems like he’d be traditional, sexist, even, but he proves to also make people realize how wrong they are with their impression of him.

But, as Mr. Kim is getting older, he’s gotten a bit… lazy.

In fact, he’s been slacking so much that he’s gotten a new rep in the office—if he was your direct supervisor, or your supervisor was under him, you were on the side of the office where all the easier, uncomplicated cases were assigned. Which meant that there was a slight possibility that your talents and skills weren’t as sharp and exceptional as you thought they were.

And well, Hyeri works directly underneath Mr. Kim.

Hyeri doesn’t want a heavy workload, despite the fact that there’s a plethora of files on her desk, stacked up one onto another as tall as her PC tower, and they were all open and closed cases—needless to say that she didn’t mind it.

“Okay, but you got offered a position under Seohyun. Do you really think you’re not wasting your potential?”

Hyeri scoffs. “Never. At least, not now. I’m still in my twenties, I’d like to enjoy my youth while I can, for your information.”

You quirk a brow. “And does any of that pertain fucking Johnny? The hot guy, so you claim?”

She immediately has her hand covering your mouth and you scowl. “Shhhhh, he works here!”

You bite the flesh of her hand and Hyeri instantly retracts. “You think I don’t know my archenemy works here? He sits directly across from my office—I get the best view of the guy and I’m not even one of his fangirls.”

“You’re not gonna be one of those girls who claim they’re different because they don’t like him but then end up falling for him anyway… are you?”

Your hand goes up and Hyeri crouches down.

“Stop it.”

“Seriously though! It’s the classic e2l love story,” she has her hands gesturing in front of her like she’s making an imaginary rainbow, “Two lawyers, constantly butting heads, accept each other’s differences and learn to love—“

“The fuck is an ‘e2l’?”

“Enemies to lovers.”

“Are you high? Stop spitting nonsense.” This time, you’re waving the stack of papers that finish printing in front of her face. “Meet me for lunch later. But if you keep talking about my archenemy and I falling in love, you can kiss a free meal goodbye.”

Hyeri gasps.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

Maybe. Just maybe, Hyeri might be a tiny smidge right when she says Johnny is handsome. Just a bit though, because she can’t get credit for something like that.

He’s dyed his hair this shade of brunette that sort of reminds you of roasted chestnuts on a cold, winter day, sitting inside of a cooker outside of your childhood home, baking along with some sweet potatoes your mom had gotten from a farmer’s market nearby. Johnny has this focused gaze attached to the screen of his monitor; there’s a dip in the fronts of his brows, lips tightened into a straight line, and constant switching back and forth from the computer while taking notes down in a book that’s laid open in front of him.

You wonder what’s running through his mind, or well, you’re more interested in what files he has sprawled out on top of his desk.

Truthfully, if it hadn’t been obvious enough, you weren’t quite a fan of Johnny Suh and it’s mostly due to his work ethic. He’d been notorious for his reputation of sleeping around—especially with the opposing side—so it’s hard to convince yourself that he didn’t win the case because of his actual capabilities, but it’s because he pulled some strings.

And Johnny doesn’t put much effort into denying it either.

Albeit deep down, you were a teeny bit envious of his confidence. He struts around the courtroom with ease, and when he presents his position, there’s no staggering in his voice—it’s always crisp and clean, weighted with nothing but credence, and never straying from his initial perspective. It’s never a lack of poise, it’s consistently the look he goes for; from the hand gestures and the furrowed brows, to the rhetorical questions in the end of certain statements that has the speculators and jury sitting at the edge of their seat, Johnny had a talent for performing in the courtroom, but that doesn’t mean anything when the way he gets to the success isn’t ethical.

Just at that moment, his eyes lift from the screen and meet yours.

There isn’t any hesitation when you scramble to grab the remote controller, and the shades drop over the windows instantaneously.

“Fuck,” you mutter underneath your breath, tossing the remote onto your desk and shaking your hands after. What if he thought you were admiring him? Maybe he didn’t see. Yeah. It was for a brief second, and with how close your offices were to each other, it would be common to accidentally lock eyes… right?

Interrupting your thoughts, the office phone rings and it nearly startles the living soul out of you. But before you reach for it, your head tilts to the side curiously because the extension number is familiar—it’s Park Seohyun’s, your boss.

What could she be calling for?

You don’t remember fucking something up—but to be fair, half the times, you never really know if you’ve actually fucked up until someone with steaming ears and a crimson face comes storming in. So… did you do something good? Again, you don’t think that’s right either, because other people would’ve made comments about it.

Deciding to swallow your nerves, you pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey!” Seohyun never fails to be bubbly, and you could never mimic her energy. You definitely had to be born with that kind of enthusiasm. “I have a favor. Hop into my office.”

Leaned back in her leather swivel chair, she had her fingers laced with each other while resting over her stomach. Johnny stands beside you (and you do your best to not look directly at him, especially after that weird staring thing), and you both feel like kids being lectured by parents from how still you are. Her office is huge, probably the size of both yours and Johnny’s combined; with ceiling to floor windows, cases of books that line the perimeter, not to mention the humongous ass couch that practically covers the other half of the room, and her desk was so wide, you estimate about four monitors would fit on there with still additional space for work. That wasn’t even the best part—the view of the city looks almost like a generic lockscreen of a Windows computer, and you’re not even sure why she goes home at night when she basically has a penthouse here.

“As you know, I have a favor.”

“Right,” Johnny retorts, mostly as a filler in the awkward silence. “So… what’s the favor?”

She pulls a box from her purse; square, black and made from a leather material with a lock pad stitched into it, something you’ve never seen before, and she slides the passcode in, then it pops the lid open. A key (a… very small one) sits in the velvety cushion, with nothing else occupying the space with it, and it looks comical. She uses this to open the very top drawer of her desk, and as she pulls using the handle, there’s another box inside, but this time, metal instead of leather, but still black.

What the fuck?

It seems Johnny shares the same thoughts, because he sneaks a glance over at you.

“You see,” Seohyun begins, pressing on the digital keys of the box until there’s a beep at the end and the case hisses open. “There’s a lot of security for this. Which means you understand the importance of it.”

Then, she picks up four manila envelopes and lies on the surface of her wooden top desk. “I have a family emergency to attend to this upcoming week. I’m boarding a flight tonight. So I’m leaving the Hwang v. Yoon case to the two of you.”

“Fuck—”

“The what?”

You and Johnny are sputtering out of shock. The Hwang v. Yoon case is the biggest case that the firm is involved in currently, and the only people involved in it have been Seohyun and Gonghyun. It’s been on every social media platform you could think of; from Facebook to Twitter, TikTok to Instagram—there’s even this weird website for emo/grunge teens or strange kids that like writing fanfic called Tumblr, and whatever that is, it’s discussed on there too.

“What about Gonghyun?”

Seohyun scoffs, closing the drawer and dropping the key back into her special box. Where do you even get a box like that? “He can’t handle this alone. So I’m kicking him off until I come back. I thought about letting the two of you work with him, but his ego is so inflated, it’ll get in the way of our chances of winning. It’s easier if it was just me and him, but seeing that things at home aren’t well, I’m going to need you two to step up to the plate.”

The room goes quiet. The only sounds you hear are the muffled noises of a typical bustling office outside the thick walls of Seohyun’s office, and at first, excitement rushes through your blood because Seohyun thought of you taking over a special, high profile case.

Albeit, another realization gets soaked up, and it’s that Johnny also came to mind, and that because it’s such an important case, the two of you would be… working… many… hours… together.

Maybe you should back out of it—but then again, this is such a one-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Imagine winning this— it wouldn’t be good for just the law firm, it’d be good for you too. Your name, in articles on these big fancy news websites, perhaps even on new channels, talking about how you, this amazing lawyer, won the Hwang v. Yoon case.

But then you’re snapped back into reality when Johnny leans over to take the envelopes from Seohyun.

If your name is on those platforms, so is Johnny’s.

God, this guy just ruins everything, doesn’t he?

“We’ll take care of it, Seohyun. You can trust us,” he says assuringly, a smile tugging on each corner of his lips with that dazzling gaze. “We’ll be at our best.”

Kiss ass.

If you had the option, you wouldn’t be spending your Saturday night here at work, in one of those conference rooms with a long table in the middle, a big projector that displays on the wall, and a random black leather loveseat couch that lines the one corner in case there’s too many occupants.

Especially since the person who’s accompanying you is Johnny Suh.

There’s probably a lot of people who would kill to be in your position (Hyeri being one of them), but you dread it. Not to be that person, but what’s so special about him anyway? What? He’s tall, has some muscles, long luscious hair that he can slick back with that sultry stare—wait, what?

“Alright, moving on…” From what? You guys just started? It’d been clear with Seohyun that the mornings would be dedicated to other cases, but nights would be considered overtime and where you’d zoom in your focus on Ms. Hwang’s justice. “Let’s take a look at the facts here.”

Johnny slips off his blazer, hanging it on the back of one of the chairs as you’re seated in another, leaning back comfortably with an arm resting on the table. He loosens the first few buttons of his dress shirt before folding up the sleeves, and that’s when you notice a little thing in the inner crook of his elbow—is that a fucking sunflower? Is that what he uses to reel girls in? That he’s soft enough to have a pretty little flower etched onto his gentle, silky and supple—

“Okay,” he says, interjecting into your thoughts with a laser pointer in his hand. He taps on the space bar of his laptop that mirrors what’s on his screen, but then, that’s when you realize what’s on the slides.

There’s a collage of pictures, mostly street, casually walking themed ones, but the common factor was that they were of Yoon Changmin, the man you guys were up against. They were all paparazzi-like photos, which begs the question, how did he get pics like this, and why did he get them?

“What’s the point of this?” you ask, voice laced with nothing but suspicion.

“We gotta get into the mind of the enemy.” You wanna get into the mind of your enemy, too.

You gesture to the one image of Changmin with an arm around his girlfriend and a finger up his nose. “Seems like he’s trying to reach inside of his head instead of us. These are just everyday pictures, Johnny. What’s that going to do for us?”

“Well,” he begins, turning to look at the wall of ‘evidence’. “You see—wait, holy shit.”

Freezing in the midst of reaching for your coffee, your head jolts in the direction of your partner. “What? What is it?”

“Holy shit,” he exclaims, “Hoooooooooly shit. Why didn’t I see this before? This changes everything.”

Furrowing your brows, you’ve given up getting your drink and dropped your hands onto the table. “Tell me, what is it?”

“This is a game changer.”

“Johnny,” you call out sternly, and his eyes link with yours before he instantly points to a particular picture with his red laser pointer.

“Look at that.” There’s pride saturated in his words, but when you look at what he’s indicating, your body slouches in disappointment.

Why the hell was he directing your attention onto Changmin’s thighs? Surely, there’s no denying that they were attractive—you recall that his alibi was at the gym that very night of the crime.

“What? He’s guilty for showing off his toothpick legs?” They were lean, you never said they were muscular.

“No,” he retorts, slightly irritated by your response as he rolls his eyes. “Look at his pants.”

“Okay…”

“They’re jean shorts.”

There’s a pregnant pause, but the expression on your face is so loud it can’t be hidden.

Johnny continues, “That’s a fashion crime.” He says it as if it’s an obvious fact known by many. “Not to mention that it’s fucking raw hem. He should be arrested.”

Suddenly, your opinion of him thinking too much with his heart dissipates because it seems like he’s thinking out of his ass instead. Did he win those cases out of pity? How did this guy even pass the bar? How about law school? How the hell did he even get into law school?

“I don’t think—”

“Listen, alright, just hear me out,” he’s got the palms of his hands resting flat on the surface of the table, doing his best to gain your full undivided attention. “Only assholes wear jean shorts. They flaunt that shit around like they own the place, but they’re horrendous pieces of clothing that should not be on a male’s body. I don’t care what you say, what your opinion is, because that is a fact.”

Puffing your cheeks, you feel at a loss. If Johnny is who you had to get this done, it feels like you’re not going to be finding much evidence any time soon.

“Okay, if… if that’s how you want to play it, then show me the evidence—other than those 2012 cut off denim shorts.”

He reaches over to hit his space bar again, then with a wink and a slide change, he leans closer to you and says with that deep, honeyed voice, “Gladly.”

You hate admitting when you’re wrong.

Ironically, you concede and will confess when you actually are, but it doesn’t mean that you enjoy it. For example, when Hyeri claims that the intern Mark had a crush on you, you quickly waved her off, stating something along the lines of, “I’m too intimidating; there’s better chances of him being scared of me than ever finding me attractive.” And then a week later, you owed Hyeri free lunch at that hip ramen place downtown because Mark had approached your desk that very morning with a bouquet of red roses flowers for you, a cheeky grin glued to his face with pools of hearts in his eyes, and ready to ask you on a date because it was the day after his internship had ended. Naturally, it wasn’t fun rejecting that poor college boy.

But, you won’t say you find Johnny interesting or handsome. Or that there’s potential when it came to possibly (just barely the slightest smidge) that you’d ever consider asking Johnny out. He’s your enemy here, you’ve mentioned that a multitude of times, and you stand firm on that very declaration, despite the fact that sometimes when he gets too close, your breath gets caught in your throat and you feel like you can’t get whatever’s lodged in out.

Albeit it’s not the whole “you guys are gonna end up together” comment that Hyeri makes and resulting in you denying it afterwards, it’s that Johnny might… be a decent lawyer.

He’s not the best one you’ve seen; the stupid revelation he had on the first day working on the case about the jean shorts is evidence for it, but it’s the days following that were slowly changing your perspective on him.

When you said, “He thinks too much with his heart more than with his head,” it was 100% correct.

When meeting with potential witnesses, you recognized that Johnny empathizes with people often; when they cry and start panicking from being overwhelmed, he's quick on his feet to put an arm around them, share reassuring words, and have them back to normal in record’s time.

And, well… you? You’re the one making them cry in the first place.

You don’t want to fully take the blame for being the cause of their tears, but people need to hear what’s happening, and the very detail that they can’t even handle this information probably means they’re not worthwhile as a key witness.

Johnny, of course, thinks otherwise.

He believes that these people should have a voice (although you’ve alluded that they might be more useless than helpful), and putting them on the stand with Yoon Changmin there would change the view of the jury to supporting Hwang Naeri.

“Listen, if we get these people to sign the form, we’d get witnesses and it’ll help Naeri,” Johnny claims, frantically moving his arms annoyingly as he talks, trying his best to express the gravity of the situation, “and maybe, maybe, money wouldn’t be how Changmin wins, but how he loses. We can’t have another person with jean shorts walking on the streets of our city like this—they deserve to go to prison.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Why does this always revert back to the jean shorts?”

“It always has to do with jean shorts,” he snaps back matter-of-factly. “Any straight guy wearing jean shorts with that much goddamn confidence has done some wrong in their lives.”

“Right, but I’m pretty sure that the crimes he did are mainly the reason why he’s being prosecuted against.”

“Jean shorts are the windows to the soul.”

“I’m almost 100% sure that eyes are the windows to the soul, but whatever. If you genuinely believe that the women we met today would benefit our case, then… okay. Let’s bring them to the stand.”

On the contrary to you, Johnny doesn’t have a hard time convincing witnesses to testify. You see the way that he works; those kind eyes directed at the participants, the pools of chocolate were sweet, saturated in nothing but tenderness and warmth, then he does that weird thing where he reaches for their hands and cups them before the words that escapes from his lips are enough to swoon them to stand in front of a courtroom.

Maybe, just maybe, there’s a method to his so-called madness.

Aggression and bluntness don’t work, it seems, because when you’re the one attempting to convince these people to go against the man that had done them wrong, they’re less willing to do it. Something about ‘moving on,’ and ‘not wanting to relive those memories again,’ but if it was you, you’d want justice. Then again, not everyone is like you, and not everyone thinks like you, and spending this abundance of time with Johnny is slowly getting you to ease into that perspective.

So… the initial impression you had of him may have been wrong.

And maybe, just maybe, you’re developing some feelings for him, just as Hyeri predicted.

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

His abrupt personal question is enough to have the coffee spill into your mouth to slide down the ‘wrong throat’ because you’re choking, hand on your chest as you’re tackling to regain your breath again and Johnny only stares in disbelief, blinking blankly. “Are… are you okay?”

You glare at him through a hooded gaze. “Well,” you clear your throat once more. “Now, I am.”

“Cool.” He nods, retracting his hand so he could rub your back soothingly, deciding it’s best to stay away. “Are you going to answer my question?”

Quirking a brow, your head tilts slightly in puzzlement. “Why are you asking this?”

Johnny shrugs. “Isn’t it weird that we’ve hung out with each other for a whole week—stayed here for nights and we both don’t know anything about each other?”

Tapping your fingers against the wooden top table, you sigh. Maybe he’s got a point; after all, “Keep your friends close; keep your enemies closer,” right?

“No, I’m single.”

Johnny’s face suddenly brightens, ears perked, and his body straightens its posture in his seat at this revelation. “Oh, uh, I didn’t know that. You seemed busy in your personal life, so I, uh… was just wondering.” He looked anxious, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. “I, um, I’m single too, by the way, in case you’re wondering.” You weren’t.

The plethora of cardboard and plastic boxes scattered across the table was a representation of the night. It’s been long, exhausting, and messy, mostly because it’s a Friday night, the hearing was on Monday, and the two of you were nowhere near close to having enough to present to the court. In fear of disappointing Seohyun, the two of you agreed to stay over the office for the weekend to cram work for the case. There’s no denying that the atmosphere is weirder on the weekends, especially since, well, no one really comes here on the weekends. Johnny had to use the bathroom earlier and ran into the cleaning lady and she nearly shit her pants because she didn’t think anyone was here, so she had music blasting in her headphones.

Johnny is… interesting. He makes you laugh—or well, want to laugh, but you don’t give him that sense of satisfaction—and he’s smart but in his own weird way. He’s not like the other lawyers you’ve met, or any of the law students you attended University with because he’s more lighthearted and free-spirited than the rest, taking life in strides instead of just overwhelming himself in the abundance of stress that work brings.

He’s entirely the opposite of you.

And maybe you could learn something from the guy, but there’s something in you that brews hatred toward him. Possibility that you resent how easy he makes being a lawyer seem when you’re struggling in your day-to-day life to make things work.

But it’s way too fucking hard when he’s just… like that.

Despite all of that, he’s very generous and kind toward you. On rough days, he delivers your coffee order, the one you always get because he remembers what you asked the intern to get for you the last time, and he’s good at identifying when you’re just having that kind of day. You eventually learn he has a photographic memory (fucking show off), so when he saw that crumpled napkin with scribbles of what you want in that dumb intern’s hand, it wasn’t hard to remember. Which, by the way, is how he’s able to get into the most prestigious school for undergrad, manage to pass the bar so easily, and get into law school effortlessly.

And knowing this information sort of angers you more.

You know this isn’t his fault—he’s been blessed with a trait that people desire, one that you also yearn for, but the lucky ones get handed a lot of things in life. You wonder if he’s the type of guy who wins girls easily after matching with them on dating sites because of this stupid ass ‘photographic memory.’ Does he sleep with them right after? Does it ever get serious?

You shrug your shoulders and shake your head. You shouldn’t even let these strange thoughts haunt you, especially when you don’t even like him.

He’s a spoiled brat who gets everything handed to him on a silver platter.

So you’re left counting the remaining days until the trial so you don’t ever have to work with Johnny Suh this closely again.

Okay, well, it’s evident that bad luck is glued to your side because after you win the Hwang v. Yoon case for your law firm with that asshole, Seohyun is so impressed. So goddamn impressed that she insists that all the high profile cases are to be given to both you and Johnny.

To work as a team.

Together.

Jesus, this is Hell for you.

Surely, the promotion and raise that came along with it was definitely a plus, but it has you wondering if it’s even worth it. He’s been your unspoken enemy since the first day, and although you think you’re pretty forthright about your hatred for this guy, he can’t seem to read social cues.

When you’re pushing the double doors into the conference room the two of you often spend working on cases in, you expect Johnny to be ready for another day. But strangely enough, Johnny doesn’t have his laptop out or any of the notebooks sprawled across the table.

“Um,” you slide the strap of your bag off your shoulder and onto the spare chair. “Did you come late or something?”

He takes in a deep breath like he’s been holding back something. “We need to talk.”

There’s worry inscribed into his features; from the crease in between his brows, to his pursed lips, and eyes soaked in concern, almost like he’s got bad news to share and it has your stomach in knots. Was it that the case was thrown out? It couldn’t be, right? You both worked hard, presented your stance to the point that the jury and the judge were in awe with your findings. Sure, you had to cover Johnny’s mouth right before he was about to go off in a tangent about jean shorts, but overall, it was a good win, a hard one to go back on and pull out the wrongs of it. So what was it?

“I’m quitting our partnership.”

You blink. “What?”

He gestures to the room with his hands as if there’s anything out to reference. “This thing. Our work. The big profile cases. The famous stuff. I told Seohyun that I won’t be doing it anymore and she can revoke the promotion and the raise.”

You’re still not catching on. “… Why?” Was it something you did? Yeah, you weren’t a big fan of Johnny either, but were you so bad that he decided to not go through with the raise because of you?

“Because,” he pushes his blazer back, hands sliding into the front pockets of his navy blue trousers. “There’s a policy put into place. Those who are on the same cases cannot have any personal relations with each other that extend past friendships.”

“We’re not even friends?” With confusion written across your face, your head tilts to the side. “I’m not… I’m not catching on here.”

“I like you.”

Startled, the words you want to say are stolen out of your mouth. You’re left with a mixture of perturbation and bewilderment, uncertain where to go from there because Johnny asked for the removal of both a promotion and additional money that could be so good for his career… and it’s all because he has a crush on you?

“You quit the best thing that could’ve happened to you because you like me?”

“Yeah,” Johnny states calmly, sucking in his cheeks for a brief moment. “Ain’t that romantic?”

You scoff. “No. Absolutely not. You’re insane! Why would you do yourself dirty like that? Use your head, Johnny, you’re constantly thinking with that stupid heart of yours, and hate to break it to you, but it won’t get you anywhere.” Combing your hair with your fingers, you let out a sigh. “Go ask Seohyun for the position back. Say you made a mistake and—”

“I’m not asking her for the position back.”

Johnny doesn’t make any sense to you. “What? Why wouldn’t you do that?

“Because,” he laughs in disbelief, not because he thinks you’re funny. “I’m not going to force myself to work with a girl that I keep falling for. That’s self-inflicting, you realize that, right? You’re amazing, but you can seriously be so dense sometimes.”

“I’m dense? You just told one of the best law firms in the city that you don’t want to work on the important cases anymore because you have a stupid crush on your partner!”

“If we were on a team with more people, maybe it’d be different. But it’s just us two. You think I won’t fall any harder? That’s not easy. Every time I see you working, I swear I could be hopelessly in love with you one day.”

Your heart stops for a second.

This is Johnny Suh you were talking about here. One of the claimed best lawyers in your office, one of the most intelligent people that Hyeri has ever met, and Seohyun evidently backs this up because she’s given him so much recognition for his work. He’s the guy who worked with you to win the Hwang v. Yoon case, he’s the one who brought up the stupid jean shorts that seemed so far-fetched at the time, but they were a crucial detail everyone missed—it so happened that when Changmin bought those dumb shorts, there was evidence of at least one of his crimes in that store from the security cameras.

Any cis-gendered male who wears jean shorts can’t be trusted, according to Johnny.

And candidly speaking? You couldn’t even deny that. Your past two ex-boyfriends both wore jean shorts and the one cheated on you and the other one was caught money laundering.

“Listen,” he begins, interrupting your foggy thoughts. “I’m not asking you to tell me you like me back. I’m telling you because you should know, and that I can’t go on any further without letting you know. I’ll, uh, be in my office. Seohyun said she’d find a replacement for me.”

Hyeri is his replacement.

She’s great company and does a good job of helping you with whatever you need, but that was just it. Hyeri followed you, she never led with you, just as Johnny does. Agreeing with everything you say, mindlessly trailing behind everything you do—Hyeri was smart, but she couldn’t figure out how to think for herself when it came to these bigger cases because she’s never been given such a responsibility. But you couldn’t even blame her because it’s what she was told to do under Gonghyun.

“You said that you think Maeri snatched the bracelet?”

“No, I said if you watched the security video that the jewelry store submitted, it clearly shows that Maeri snatched the bracelet. Not that I ‘think.’ The proof is right there, Hyeri.”

She nods, resuming back to her work on the computer. Truthfully, Hyeri felt more like an assistant than a co-worker, someone to bounce ideas off of and to see from a different perspective. And as much as you hated Johnny, he had decent points. He had ways of making you put yourself into the shoes of people you never thought you were; although the guy was obnoxious, at least he actually was… good at his job.

Deciding you can’t take it anymore when Hyeri asks for the tenth time that hour about your beliefs rather than her own, you abruptly stand from your seat.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” you reply shortly. “I’ll be back.”

It was just a spontaneous thought. It’s after hours, and although there are some people who stay behind to get some work done, you had your doubts that Johnny would still be here. He seems to have a better grip on that work/life balance thing people talked about (unlike yourself), but it didn’t hurt to check his office, right?

It’s a good thing you went with it. Because right across from yours, there’s Johnny.

There’s one single lamp that shines over the tabletop of his desk, and the other sources of light in his office are from his computer screen and the ones from the city skyline from behind him. It has him seemingly angelic like this, so serene, calm, and collected, only focused on what’s laid out in front of him. The sun has gone down, people have gone home, but Johnny remains, hardworking as always, despite your previous observations that he’s a lazy, unprofessional guy who gets everything handed down to him.

With a knock on his glass door, he flinches, head raising up and eyes meeting yours.

Were his eyes always this sparkly?

Opening the door, Johnny drops the pen in his hand and crosses his arms before leaning back in his seat. “What’s up?”

“You’re here late,” you state the obvious, and Johnny only nods in return, without a rebuttal in sight. “You aren’t normally here late. At least, before the Hwang v. Yoon case.”

“Yeah, you’re right. But Seohyun dropped something on my desk this morning. Wanted to work on it. What brings you here?”

Inhaling in a deep breath of courage, your hands bundle up into a fist by your side. “Please come back.”

Johnny raises a brow. “What?”

“Come back,” you reiterate, this time, it’s less tense and releases with ease. Caving in isn’t usually this effortless to you, but something about Johnny makes you feel… comfortable enough.“Come back and work with me again. Yes, I’m not supportive of how you do things—”

“Then let’s go out on a date.”

You freeze. Legs rooted into the floors of Johnny’s office, you’re left immobile and diffident on how to react next. It wasn’t what you were expecting, although you weren’t quite sure what you were hoping to anticipate, but it most definitely was not this.

“I—”

“I said my terms,” he retorts, shutting the book in front of him before shuffling up from his seat. He’s leaving, you realize, and Johnny’s ready to head home for the night and you’re not sure if you could handle an entire weekend with Hyeri here. “And, I meant what I said. One date, and if it really doesn’t work out, I’ll stay on the case.”

Chewing on your bottom lip anxiously, the next words that come out are out of character for you. “And… what if it does?”

A soft smile tugs from each corner of his mouth. “Then we’ll figure it out from there. Promise.”

This is… awkward. It shouldn’t be, but yet somehow, it remains awkward.

You’ve spent weeks with Johnny before, and those moments were in a room, in the middle of the night, and alone. Hours and hours were dedicated to work, yes, but it was just the two of you and nobody else.

So why is it so weird being in a five Michelin star restaurant with him?

Maybe it’s the atmosphere. The dim lights, the white clothed tables in lieu of the scratched up wooden one back at the law firm, and instead of leather seats, there’s a neutral beige chaise cushion for the dining chair, slightly less comfortable because it doesn’t recline like the one in your office. Instead of an array of photos and evidence disseminated in front of you, there’s a laminated menu with a multitude of options of what to have for dinner.

Johnny gets the steak with mashed potatoes and string beans, and you order something similar but seared salmon for the main protein. The waitress offers wine, babbling on about the age of the red, where the vineyard is located, and the dryness to sweetness—to be honest, you could care less; you’d rather have gin and sprite with a squirt of lime. A couple glasses of that and you can almost guarantee that the night would end with a deep slumber.

Oddly enough, Johnny seems nervous. Ever since he pulled up in his midnight black Audi in front of your apartment complex, he’s been acting strange. He keeps wiping his sweaty palms off the material of his trousers, occasionally swiping off the droplets that fall on the side of his face.

“Are you… okay?” you suddenly ask, adjusting your dress in your seat. Deciding to go with a black silk dress with a slit up the leg and your hair let down, it’s not a look you often sport but since you’re going on a date (one you haven’t been on in quite some time), you figured it would be nice to at least play the part.

“I’m, uh, honestly, I’ve never really asked a girl out before.”

You quirk a brow curiously. “What? You’re telling me you never asked a girl out before?”

He lets out a bashful laugh with a faint nod, making an attempt to swallow his nerves after. “Honestly, I’ve always been asked out and not the other way around. Not to sound like that guy, but I never really had to put effort into trying for girls. They kind of just…”

“—Throw themselves at you?”

He beams. “Yeah! Like that. I don’t really know how to react half the time, but it makes the whole dating scene a little bit easier.” Geez, he called you dense, but he’s over here acting clueless.

Either way, it feels like whatever opinion you had about Johnny remained true. He never had to try when it came to the dating scene, and you could only imagine what that means for work and the relationships he has with the women in your career field.

“Mm, does that usually happen with work too?”

Befuddled, Johnny leans back in his chair. “What do you mean by that?”

With a shrug of your shoulders, you’re poking the meat of your salmon that falls off easily. After the first initial bite, the fish practically melts on impact when it touches the tip of your tongue, smooth like butter and bursting with flavor that couldn’t be described by any common person because it wouldn’t do the salmon justice. Johnny seemed to put a lot into this date, and you’re left pondering what the point of this was. Did he actually like you, or was he trying to get into your head? “Just seems like you get a lot of special treatment.”

“Are you jealous?”

“In what way?” you snap back.

“Are you jealous of me because I’m getting this so-called special treatment that you think I’ve always had, or were you jealous of the girls that seemingly got my attention?”

You’re left without anything to say.

It was a good observation he made because truthfully, you never saw it like that.

In actuality, you often saw Johnny as your rival. He climbed the ladder in the field with ease, and it wasn’t hard to quickly blame his success on the fact that he was a guy in a male dominated industry, but the fact that there’s a possible interpretation for your hatred may be from these feelings you might’ve been harboring for him this entire time… that can’t be it… right?

“I mean, look at where you are now,” you begin, trying to defend yourself. It can’t be true that the reason you’ve been bitter about Johnny was because of the girls that got his attention, and one of them not being you. “You got a high position from—”

“—From hard work,” Johnny interjects with his brows furrowed. “I didn’t get to where I was because I slept around, if that’s what you’re insinuating. I knew you sort of always hated me, but I’ve always admired you. I like your work ethic, I like your style, even though we’re both on opposite spectrums, I like the way you think and I wanted to know what it was like being partners with you. Getting to be on that case with you showed me more than just who you were as a lawyer, but who you were as a person. I like you, but I’m trying to put my finger on why you hate me so much.”

“So you noticed.” Sucking in your cheeks, your eyes trail elsewhere—from the fork that lays beside your plate, to the glass filled halfway with wine, to the little candle that sits in between the two of you that flickers the way he has your heart when he expresses once more how he feels about you.

“Yeah, of course I noticed. If you like someone, it’s kind to miss details like that about them. So… you really hated me because you thought I slept my way to the top, huh?”

“I mean…” shoulders dropping in exasperation, you run your fingers through your disheveled hair. “All those rumors—”

“Again, they’re just rumors. I worked hard to get here, you know. And I’m kind of offended that you thought of me that way.”

You scoff. “They’re rumors, Johnny, it’s kind of hard to ignore all the office gossip when that’s all you hear. Plus, it wasn’t hard to believe either, with the whole flirtatious act whenever you encounter anyone who’s breathing and has a vagina.”

“I wasn’t flirting.”

“You need a book for dummies that elaborates on what’s flirting or not, because Johnny Suh, whatever it is you do with your body language in front of that chick who sits by the front door.”

“You mean Siwoo? The pregnant one who’s married to her highschool sweetheart? Also, how do you not know our receptionist’s name?”

You throw your arms into the air. “How am I supposed to know her name?”

He tilts his head to the side, genuinely baffled. “Do you… not talk to anyone outside of Hyeri?”

Your silence answers his question.

“I… honestly, I don’t know if I should be offended or if I should be honored. You think I didn’t earn anything that I have now, you think that everything I have was handed to me. On one hand, it’s flattering that you think my looks and my bedroom skills could do that but at the same time… I’m offended because you think I’m incapable.”

“I never said you were incapable—”

“But you implied it.”

Hands falling onto your lap, it’s your turn to gulp. His words come shooting at you, but you’re without a shield to protect yourself, and with the new experience of working with Johnny, there comes the realization at times that Johnny is a hard worker. There are some things that he says and does that aren’t like the people you’ve encountered, and being put on new cases with Hyeri only proved it. He’s thoughtful in the sense that whenever you’d bring up your stance on something, he challenges you with what the defense might counter.

Johnny makes you want to be better. Not just against him, but to brush off the dust on your skills and enter into the battlefield of a courtroom to showcase them.

“Well, if you’re staying silent, I just want to say that I tried,” the crinkle in between your brows makes another appearance because Johnny is great at leaving you stunned and confused. “I really like you. I love how your head works, and I wanna be with someone like that but I also can’t be with someone who doesn’t respect me.”

Why is it that when you’re in that conference room with him, you’re not afraid and never running out of things to say, but now you’re empty handed?

“I’ll pay for dinner. Grab you an Uber. I honestly thought I could overlook those things, and maybe your perspective for me has changed, but I could see it on your face. It’s the same.”

After that date with Johnny, his life turns back to normal.

Yours? Not so much.

Candidly speaking, part of you missed working with Johnny. You were wrong about him, so wrong, and even when you wanted to apologize at the dinner for what you thought of him, the pride in you was like a vicious plague that blackened your insides, preventing you from ever saying those words.

Oftentimes, you’d still be able to sneak a glimpse of him in his office with that same look on his face—full of concentration and nothing else in his mind other than the task at hand.

The cases you have with Hyeri entail a head like Johnny’s. Someone who could question you, to protest against your stance when there could be flaws in it. It feels like deja vu each time you think about it, each time you open a new case file and Hyeri sits there, perched in that seat beside yours, eyes sparkling with what you have in mind next, instead of what she has going on in hers.

Although you’ve tried convincing yourself that maybe, just maybe, what you feel for Johnny is purely professional but when you see him standing by the water cooler with a couple of your coworkers, eyes mimicking the moon crescents in the skies, replicating the ways his lips curl in elation—it was beginning hard to believe that it was all platonic feelings.

So maybe you should be bold for once. Pull off that exterior that displays you as someone who isn’t just independent and assiduous, but someone who’s stubborn and aggressive in getting what they want—and not in a good way.

This time, you’ll show it in a good way.

Or at least, you’ll try.

Johnny is a routine kind-of-guy—he grabs an iced americano every morning at the coffee shop downstairs at the edge of the street, he does his daily 11:00AM drop-by at the water cooler to refill his Hydroflask (which was his prized possession, by the way), and parked in the same exact spot in the parking garage of your building, despite there being an abundance of places he could choose.

That’s why you decide to stand by his car after work that day. Bouncing on the balls of your feet, hands shaking because it’s your turn to feel anxious. That blazer that once fit so comfortably in the morning suddenly feels tight and hot in the afternoon, and the weather hasn’t even changed. Your bag slung over your shoulder weighs ten times heavier than an hour ago, and you can’t stop your jaw from tightening.

Before your thoughts could spiral off all the possibilities of what the outcome may be when you tell Johnny how you feel, he’s already standing there, feet away from you with that dip in the fronts of his brows that you want to smoothen out the crinkles of with the pad of your thumb.

“Hi,” you greet, faint and peculiarly different from your other approaches. “Um, I just… was waiting for you.”

“Hey,” Johnny says back, the first few buttons of his shirt already unraveled, his blazer hung over his forearm and the sleeves are rolled up. “I see that. What’s up with you?”

“Um,” your leg was jittery, hard to control so you spat everything you had to say out as fast as you could before he could see right through you. “I just wanted to apologize. For everything. You’re admirable, kind, and I wish I inhabited those same characteristics you have. I think professionally, you’ve got great ideas, one that could be implemented into mine and what we did together for that case was just… yeah. We could do something big if we put our heads together.”

Johnny nods in agreement. The relationship between you two work-wise was obvious, he knew that much. “And what about… outside of that?”

“I like you,” you choked, barely getting the words out. “More than just coworkers, um, I guess, more than friends but I’m not really sure since you walked out on our first date,” inhaling in a deep breath of courage, you continue on, “and I don’t know how you feel now after I’m standing before you like this, asking for another chance and that I’m sorry.”

He stares at you blankly, and it leaves you unsure whether or not he accepts your apology. “You know why we ended that date early.”

“Well,” you start again, “can we… start over and try again? I promise I won’t tempt you to end the date early this time.”

And with that, there’s the signature smile that Johnny sports that swoons girls, makes their knees weak, and heart clench but this time… it’s just for you.

“I’d really like that.”

[jedijesi]

Luminary Love

Prince!Din Djarin x F!Princess!Reader

🤍Masterlist🤍

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut (F receiving, PiV, Breeding kink)

Summary: Tonight is your (unwanted) wedding to the soon-to-be King of Mandalore, but is there more to him than meets the eye?

Word Count: 3,100+

A/N: I’ve had this idea for several days now and I just needed to write it. Don’t worry tho bc the next ch. of biblichor will b out soon. Enjoy some Din content!🤍

All night long, you received congratulations and cheers. Thousands, billions of people would kill to be in your position, but you dreaded this more than anything. You never wanted to marry the soon-to-be king of Mandalore, but the Royal administration never gave you an option. Throughout the fantastical wedding, you repeatedly reminded yourself it was for your people - they are the ones who will prosper from this. Thankfully, his creed forbade him from removing his helmet in front of others, therefore you weren’t allowed to kiss him. The only time you had to touch him during the ceremony was when you held hands. Even then, his mastiff-leather gloves create a barrier from any real contact.

After the ceremony, you avoided your new husband as best you could. When it was time to put on a show, you had forced yourself to put on the royal smile you had been practicing. When eating, you sat as far away as possible from him but not far enough to worry the royal administrations that watched you two tentatively. The times you were called to waltz, you performed what you had been learning for months but never made eye contact with him. After a few dances, the royals watching had joined in and forgotten about you, giving you the perfect chance to escape.

You spent your time talking with other royalty, expressing your worries and concerns to Princess Mary of Ryloth. Unlike you, she was happily married, but it was her 3rd time. The first two suitors weren’t ‘good enough’ for her, so she became the royal’s biggest scandal and ignored her administration to marry for love. Luckily her experience with terrible lovers led to wonderful tips and tricks that she gladly gave you for your wedding night. You knew she was telling you these things to help, but in reality, it only made you feel worse about your new life.

“Djarin, my oldest friend, how are you enjoying your wedding?” General Paz said with a heavy pat to Din’s pauldron.

“It’s… grand.” Din sounded unconvinced by his own words.

“Grand? Is that all you have to say?”

“Well, everything appears wonderful, but my wife won’t speak nor look at me.”

“Have you attempted to talk to her?”

“Of course!” Din and Paz turn to watch you talk to Princess Mary. “She never responds, though.”

The uncomfortable feeling of Din’s stare props you to turn around. The blue and silver beskar statues jump when you catch them and quickly turn back to avoid any further embarrassment.

“I haven’t seen her in years, but she has grown to be quite beautiful, you must admit.” Paz shrugs.

“I know, it’s one of the many reasons I married her. I just… wish she’d give me a chance.”

“Well, she better. I overheard that the administration is already seething that you two haven’t gone back to your honeymoon suite.”

Din rolls his eyes under his helmet. “I don’t care about them. They shouldn’t have a say in my marriage.”

“Good luck arguing that. You know they expect an heir to be conceived tonight.”

“I already have Grogu. Is he not enough?”

“Nothing is enough for them, my friend.” Paz pats Din’s back reassuringly. “Just be kind to the poor girl. I’m sure she isn’t pleased with all of this.” He gestures to the grand chandeliers and dramatic towers of cake and food.

Din sighs as he fiddles with the edge of his cape. “Alright. I should probably go fetch her before the Administration creates any more drama.”

“Good luck, your majesty.” Paz bows as Din walks your way.

Din let’s go of his cape before wiping his armor of any lingering bits of dust and dirt, wanting to be as presentable as possible for you. When Din arrives behind you, he clears his throat and bows.

“My Princess, it is time for us to leave for the Honeymoon Suite.”

Without a word, you give him a nod and take his arm. The guests cheer and whisper as you and your husband make your way out of the ballroom. You could hear Royal Administers whisper their concerns regarding your fertility or your performance in bed. It was dehumanizing, to say the least. You fought for justice and equality on Naboo, but this was not the way on Mandalore. Your new role would be diminished to a supporting queen who would raise the future heirs. Meanwhile, the other women of Mandalore were busy serving valiantly in wars. This was the way. Mandalore was born out of extremists, and you had to embrace the consequences.

Din hated the whispers. If he were king, he would have lashed out long ago, but the coronation isn’t for another few days. You didn’t deserve to be treated as an object. Din saw you to be the goddess that would help lead his people into prosperity and the gorgeous woman who may one day graciously birth his children. Such slander against someone so perfect made Din rage under his helmet. A few more days. Din would remind himself.

.

The Suite reflected Mandalore: grand and majestic. Silver swirls of beskar outlined the stained glass windows that watched over Mandalore. The bed was larger than any other you had seen before. It looked cozy; a complete contrast to the large and uncomfortable dress you’ve been wearing all day. You walked over to touch the silk-like blankets and sighed at its softness.

Din watched you with interest - mesmerized by the way the roaring fireplace creates a golden glow on your features. “Wife?”

“Hmm?”

“Why don’t you look at me?” The flicker of sadness in his voice took you by surprise. You weren’t sure if Mandalorians could feel emotions underneath the layers of cold beskar. “Do I… scare you?”

You turn to look at him, your nerves shining through by the twiddling of your thumbs. “I… I don't know.”

“What is wrong, my dear princess? I want to fix this. I don't want to start our marriage off on the wrong foot.” You sit down on the luxurious bed, your eyes now watching as you fiddle with your dress. Din walks towards you, taking a knee to be at eye level with you. “I understand this isn't what you wanted. I heard whispers that it took the maids an hour to get you off your ship. That you fought off any guard that laid a hand on you.” Din chuckled at the image he had created in his head. “But then the fighting stopped… why?” You couldn't find it within yourself to respond. “Won’t you please entertain my curiosity?”

You sighed and looked up into the dark visor. “I realized I was being selfish. I had forgotten that marriage among the royals was for the people… not for love.”

“You do not love me?”

“We barely know each other, your majesty.”

“What are you speaking of? We used to be best friends.”

You scoffed at Din. “We were children, your majesty. You were just a servant boy in the palace back then, but times have changed, haven't they, your majesty.”

“Please refrain from calling me ‘your majesty.’ I thought we were beyond that.” Din groaned, annoyed by the ridiculous title.

“Din, you're to become the Mandalore - the king - in a few days' time. I understand the rules - I understand why you had to marry me.”

“What? So that I could officially hold the title as king? I don't care about a stupid title - the administration does.”

“Then why marry me? There are millions of royals lined up to marry the Mandalore, but why choose me, Din? Why?” You started getting hysterical at it all. Your life's work had come to a halt just so that Din could be crowned king. It was disgusting and unfair.

“As an orphan-servant boy, the days your family visited were the best days of my life. Your parents always treated me like their own - the complete opposite of how the Kryze family did. I meant it when I said you were my best friend. You were the only person who could beat Paz and me in a fight. The only person who would sneak out of the palace to play in the garden at night with me. When your parents… passed and you stopped visiting me… It crushed me. I never stopped thinking about you, my princess.”

You could hear the build-up of tears in Din’s throat, but he wasn't the only one. You too had tears in your eyes, remembering the once pure and innocent life you had. You bring your hand up to din's helmet, holding where his cheek would be.

“Do you remember that last night?”

“Of course I do. It was a cold night in the rose garden. I gave you my coat since you had insisted you didn't need your shall.” Din smiled and chuckled at the memory.

“I... I never saw your lips, but I had never felt such pure joy than the moment they molded against mine.”

Din leans his head forward to rest your foreheads together. Underneath, he continued to beam. It had been so long since he had felt such love - such love that could only be created by you.

“My princess, I never stopped loving you. Even as we grew up and apart, I would watch the holovids that spoke about you, and all the wonderful things you were doing for your people. It was the only thing that kept me going through those torturous years apart from you. I love you.”

Din’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug. You reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your head in the crook of his neck. “I love you too, Din.”

“My wife?”

“Yes, my husband?”

“Will you take this ridiculous helmet off of me so that I may kiss you and make love to you?”

Your glowing smile melts Din’s heart. Your hand reaches up to slowly slide off the silver beskar helmet that covered those features you dreamt of. An audible gasp escapes past your lips when Din’s lips appear. It took everything in you to not pounce on him and cover him in kisses, but you maintain your composure. His nose was strong and beautiful, and his cheeks… oh, how you wanted to leave lipstick stains on them. Then were his perfect eyes. Those chocolate eyes that expressed an amount of love you'd never completely fathom in your life.

“You're stunning, Din.” Din’s heart flutters at your words. The only compliment he's ever received was about his combat skills and valor. He's never been complimented on his looks before.

“I’d never compare to my gorgeous wife.”

Din takes your face into his palms and slowly pulls you in for a kiss. The moment your lips touch, you feel fireworks exploding all around you. The glowing lights flash behind your eyelids as you mold your lips together. The tickle of his mustache causes you to giggle into the kiss, which Din finds to be enchanting. One of Din's hands leaves your face to grip your torso, massaging and kneading your skin.

“I love you.” He murmurs into the kiss. “I love you more than the moons and stars.”

As the kisses become more intense, so does your lust for one another. Din’s hands undo the strings of your wedding dress as you shed his armor off - lips never leaving each other. Once you two were completely naked, Din had you crawl to the center of the bed.

“Now, lay back, my love. I want to show you how much I love and miss you.” You follow his instructions and rest your head on the large cloud-like pillows.

Din crawls between your legs, taking one into his hand. Starting from your ankle, he works his way down, leaving a trail of sloppy yet delicate kisses. He takes his time at your inner thigh, sucking and licking at your skin to make you emit whimpers.

“D-Din, please don't tease me.”

“Hush, now. Let me take my time loving you.” And he does. He spends his time worshiping your body - kissing and sucking the skin around your lips while his hand massages your breasts. Suddenly, Din dives into your sopping wet cunt, immediately sucking and licking your swollen clit. You let out a loud gasp followed by a moan, making Din’s cock bounce up in excitement.

Your noises sound like music - the most angelic music he's ever heard in his life. Each moan and whimper you let out only addicted him more. Din wraps his hands around your waist and sits back, lifting your hips from the bed and to his mouth. You grip the blankets with a scream as Din explores further into your pussy. The animalistic grunts and growls he lets out only make you wetter.

“Come on, Princess. Cum. Cum all over my face. I need it.” And just like that, you let out a scream as you convulse around his tongue. Din slowly lowers you back onto the bed as he licks up your dripping cum. “You're sweeter than a meiloorun, darling. I've never tasted anything so divine. I’d love to stay between your legs forever and drink your cum until the day I die, but I wanna put a baby in you too badly to do so.” You let out a whimper at his filthy words. “Can I, darling? Will you let me fuck a baby into you?”

“Wait, we're not done?” You ask through pants.

“Not done? We’ll be done when the sun wakes up. Even then, I'm not sure if we'll ever be done. Why?”

“The other princesses said it would only be a minute of discomfort, and it’ll be over.

Din tsks and shakes his head, pressing a few kisses to your clit. “Oh, my darling. I'm not like those other royals. I care about my wife’s pleasure, and you…” Din presses more kisses to your overstimulated heat. “Are nowhere near done with your, please. So, I'll ask you again. Are you ready for me to fuck a baby into you with my thick, hard cock?”

“Stars, yes! Please, Din!” You hated how completely and utterly desperate you sounded, but you were completely and utterly desperate for Din to fuck you.

Din crawls up to meet your half-lidded eyes, drooping with lust. He places soft kisses on your cheeks before pressing one to your lips. “Are you ready for me, Princess?”

“Yes, my husband.”

Din grabs his cock, lining it up with your entrance. With a loud moan, he enters your sopping wet pussy.

“Oh, you're so wet! Ungh… Stars, you're so tight too!” Din’s thrusts speed up to a steady pace, your moans echoing through the room along with the lewd, wet sounds of your bodies pounding together. “From this day forward, y-your. Pussy. Belongs. To. Me.” Din emphasizes his words with his cock hitting against your g-spot.

“O-Only i-if your cock b-belongs - Oh yes, Din - To me.”

Din chuckles through his labored breaths. “Of course, my love. My cock is forever yours to do what you please with. I don't care what time- ugnh- or what p-place. It's yours.” You lean up to capture din’s parted lips, swallowing his beautiful moans. The knot in your stomach starts to tighten. Desperate for your release, you buck your hips back into Din. “Yes, take my cock. It's yours. All yours.” Din takes your legs, pushing them to your chest. Both of you let out a series of loud moans at the deeper feeling.

“Oh, Din! I'm going to cum if you keep doing that!”

“Ugh, I can see the galaxy when I'm inside you! Can you feel that, my love?”

“Yes, I-I can feel your throbbing cock!” You throw your head back at the euphoric feeling. Your exposed neck allows Din to swoop down and suck marks onto it.

“Th-That's me, claiming what's mine. You're all mine, my princess.” Din’s thrusts speed up, desperate and ready for you to cum. Each thrust was accompanied by a loud grunt that made you clench even tighter. “I'm gonna cum. I'm going to give you a baby - our baby. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Din! I love y-you!” You scream out a slew of ‘i love yous’ and clench tightly around Din’s swollen cock. Your orgasm and words of love cause Din to cum, sending spurts of his cum into your womb, where your future child would soon grow.

Din collapses on you which you gladly accept. You wrap your arms around his neck and place kisses on the crown of his head. Both of you stay like that for a while, basking in pure love. Once your breaths are back to normal, Din slowly pulls out of you to lay on the bed beside you. He pulls you closer to him so that no space lingered and adjusted the blankets to create a cocoon of comfort around you two.

You smile as you listen to his heartbeat against his chest. Din’s index finger presses to the underside of your chin, adjusting your eyes to look into his.

“Are you okay, my love?”

You nod lazily, completely worn out. “You know, having a husband isn't so bad after all.” Din lets out a hearty laugh before leaning down to kiss you.

“Yeah, having a wife isn't so bad either.” Din smirks at you, causing you to shy away in embarrassment and return your attention to his chest. Your fingers trace shapes and words onto his chest until you stop. A mark on Din’s torso prompts you to inspect it. “What are your curious fingers doing, my love?”

“What is this?” You ask as your finger traces the mark.

“It’s just a scar, dearest.”

“A scar?” You look back at Din with worry in your eyes.

“Oh, don't worry, my love. I've collected so many over the years, I've become immune to them. That one was either from when I fought Bo-Katan or when I fought a mudhorn to save my son.”

“Goodness.... I've missed so much of your life.” Your face droops with sadness, but Din is quick to relieve your worries.

“Now, it's nothing to be upset over. Yes, we've missed a lot, but that means we can spend the rest of our lives catching up and making new memories. Plus, you can meet my son tomorrow.”

You smile and press a chaste kiss to Din’s lips. “I’d love that.” You pressed another kiss to his lips, but this one wasn't so innocent.

“Did I not satisfy you, my love?” Din chuckles into the kiss. You climb on top of him and shake your head. “Oh, does my princess want more?”

You give Din a mischievous grin and shrug.

Din smirks before leaning in to kiss you. “Well, who am I to deny my wife of her wishes?”

A/N: Idk who from my Javier Peña taglist wants to be on this one, but those who are interested in being added to a Din Djarin taglist or a perminante taglist, please let me know.🤍 Can’t wait to hear what you all think!

[konaizumi]

Bad Buddy ep 3 thoughts/reaction

like 30 secs in and they already confirm that pran had a crush on pat in high school, like it seemed kinda obvious but i wasn’t sure they’d actually do it

i get why pat’s first idea for the guitar pick was the id but why did this idiot actually go through with it

also who wants to bet that pran still has the pick with pat’s face, i’m surprised he didn’t pull it out at some point in this episode but maybe next week when he actually sits down to play the guitar

i am very hungry and those noodles look so fucking right now

im sorry i made another post about it but all i could think about was that chopstick fight scene in kung fu panda when patpran were fighting with the chopsticks

also i can’t believe neat freak pran would actually eat the dumpling that had been in pat’s mouth

pran’s when pat said he actually was waiting for him

hey, a product placement that didn’t make me want to cringe

i would just like to commend p’aof, ohm, and nanon for delivering this teasing/flirting dynamic really well where they act antagonistic to each other but they clearly really enjoy fighting with each other, it’s one of my favorite dynamics and it’s just really well done in this series

me: oh wow, pran offering the fist bump first? that’s so sweet and another step in their friendship:

pran: nope 🖕

(it was iconic though)

but damn pran has it so bad, not that pat doesn’t but pat doesn’t know it yet

you guys started it by being dicks to wai when he was working and couldn’t fight back, you don’t even need to count the video

you can tell this story is fiction bc the school only punishes the instigators as if they give a fuck

the idea of pran, pat, and pa just casually being friends before while the parents are having this intense rivalry is so funny to me

nanon is just the best at facial expressions

why is pran doing all the work when he wasn’t even a part of the fight? like i get wanting to help his friends but he’s literally just doing everything?

i’m glad pran is calling pat out for participating in bullying wai, it kinda pissed me off last ep

i wish people in my library were that apologetic when they made noise

also pat throwing the flyer as a paper airplane bc he knew pran wouldn’t listen to him is cute

look at them all fancy with their ties and proper uniforms

pran acting annoyed but he’s actually pleased to have pat with him for the presentation

yes pat i do think you want to be that close to him

pat just zoning out in the elevator is such a mood

can’t believe pran left a whole ass guitar behind when he transferred schools, that shit’s expensive

who the fuck is chai? am i supposed to remember him?

pat: *just thinking about who he can trick into doing his laundry*

pran: *gay panicking*

pran is trying so hard to deny their friendship because of his feelings

i’ve been thinking this since ep 1 but engineering and architecture are such complimentary majors for them to choose so it’s exciting to see them actually work together

also exciting to see students actually do work from their field, it’s the same feeling as tian making the chair or explaining the airplane in atots

patpran subverting the wifey/weird male/female binary in a gay relationship trope by making jokes about it

it’s they way they can’t hold back their smiles while acting out the scenario

“drink from the drainpipe” lmao, he looked so earnest too

you just knew pran was gonna spill the drink on him

i hope sarcastically calling each other honey when they’re mad at each other becomes their thing

i thought they were gonna go the stereotypical route of a school fundraiser or smth

pat tricking his friends into helping was actually very smart

i hope we get to see them all becoming friends now, though i have a feeling there’s gonna be at least one more big fight for plot purposes

i knew pat prob had the guitar when he told pran he should look for it but he just??? had it in his closet??? like he had no idea that he would ever even see pran again but he brought the guitar to college? there’s not het explanation for this

this is why you don’t pace in front of a door with a peephole in it

pat 100% def did not try to sell the guitar

pls p’aof, i would give anything for them to have to perform together in the contest

pat and pran both def had some sort a realization sitting in that hallway

next ep preview: not much to say about it other than it looks fun

another slam dunk of an episode, gmmtv just needs p’aof to direct all their bls going forward, ohm and nanon’s chemistry is just so good, can’t wait for next week

[i-need-air]

Hey it's me again ❤️

I'm just gonna whisper something in your mind (is that even possible?)

Having a baby with Hybrid Katsuki.

Just that. Imagine girl. Perfection.

Ok, real talk here. Every time I see a request from you I uwu a little bit bc I know for a fact whatever you're requesting will make me get so immersed and involved and I'm gonna 💕💞AAAAAA💕💞 while writing AND [lemmecatchmybreath] it happened once again skdjdkfkf Hope you enjoy and sorry it took longer than normal~

Word count: 1.8k

× listen 🥺 I already started and I'm melting, ok?

× when he finds out you're having a smol baby together?

× he freezes and looks at you in a whole different light

× if you're getting pregnant, he will definitely smell the change in your scent and will know even before you do; he'd be instantly by your side with a bewitched expression on his face, taking your cheeks into his palms to just soak everything in yet he's shaking slightly

× and even if you adopt [hopefully a smol hybrid], something deep inside of Katsuki, burried and long forgotten surfaces

× this is the life he always wanted, he always craved even in his darker moments

× this happiness, this fulfillment, this joy

× I absolutely believe he will diligently read and learn everything about the baby to come; will educate himself like no other, deciding to be the very best father he could ever be

× his life was rough and he was stolen away from his biological family, he will now have a chance to have his own and he will not fail you or the baby

× when you hold the little bundle of sunshine in your hands, head down admiring the beauty of a new life, he will stand there, again in shock, again soaking this moment in... so beautiful, so perfect

× will he ever tell you that? of course not; angry ass wild pomeranian—

× but his face gives him away every single time and when you tilt yourself to hand him his new son or daughter, he falls in love for the second time in his life;

× he burries his nose in the soft and fragile skin of the baby's head and breathes in, his instinct kicking in to defend, protect, care, look out for...

× watch carefully because once the baby makes a noise, he'll still, unsure of what to do, but smile so softly as the baby coos in his arms securely; that right there is the best image you can have of soft Katsuki.

× the first few weeks are actually horrible, sorry to break it to everyone aksjskdj not because he doesn't know what to do or does not want to help; on the contrary, he is so incredibly attentive but he also recites the books he learned by memory at this point and it's getting absolutely infuriating;

× although understand him, please; he wants to prove he's a good dad 🥺 except you wanna smack him bc he scoffs if you suggest something he isn't sure about.

× you will find him standing by the baby's crib as it sleeps; he's just???? making sure this is not a dream????? don't question anything though

× can we hc Bakugou with a daughter too? [ already established in the Hybrid!Kiri hcs that Kiri'd have daughter bUT i just really really like beefy men with tiny daughters;;; my heartttt;;; ]

× his little angel, no discussion, no argument, his daughter can do NO WRONG!

× he's very down to earth though, don't get me wrong, he just absolutely adores spoiling her

× speaks softly into her ear, the lowest you'd hear from him

× gruff, raspy, gutural voice ofter overused to scream now low and soft as he holds her into his chest; doesn't do baby-voices or anything like that, but calls her his angel then smirks at you if you're watching;;; then starts softly complaining and bitching about you to the baby 💀 all while rubbing her back

× omfg his hand is as big as her tiny back; guys, call an ambulance, I'm—

× Katsuki would be the type of little shit to pull what I just said then grab you and glue you to his chest too; he'd look down at you both, eyes shining in such adoration he'd take your breath away just before he continues his ranting about you;

× once the baby starts being more interactive, her giggles specially the ones induced by her daddy will make him melt; absolute diminute baby with a small wiggling tail clapping her chubby hands at her dad? his eyes would widen suddently, ears snapping high in surprise and he's taken back by the emotions overtaking him

× he's gone, man; she has him wrapped around her tiny little finger and you can't do anything about it

× instantly acts all in denial if someone is around though; scoffs to hide is obvious smile, placing a palm on his mouth to further block it out and tickles her with the other, earning another fit of giggles

× please, don't tell him his whole tail is waving from side to side

× the only clear giveaway apart from his ears and it's;;; a d o r a b l e;;;

× specially when your daughter also starts wagging her tail in response whenever he does it;

× "Hey, come see what the dumbass is doing!" or "Look at what she did" while showing you a video; proud pappa 🥺

× we're bringing back Proud Bakugou bc hIS DAUGHTER iS tHe BeSt; no, seriously, his kid is the mf best in the world and he will start this presentation with—

× now sit down with me and accept this: the baby; yes, your sweet daughter; mhm, that adorable screeching angel; mhm;;; she'll talk so early it's disturbing.

× at 6 months or so she's already saying mamma, dadda, kitty, woof-woof

× seriously terrifying how sharp she is and how she cannot shut up; for the love of gOd, Katsuki, this is all your fault... it doesn't matter, he just smirks as he has another reason to brag to anyone about his child

× did that street vendor look at him funny? "I'M GONNA FUCKING TELL YOU ABOUT MY DAUGHTER—"

× super-protective of her and fucking hates with a burning passion if anyone dares to do that thing where they match up babies saying "Maybe they'll get married when they grow up"

× hands down, no filter, he just looks deep down in whoever had the audacity and says "Like fucking shit they'd deserve her."

× drag him away before he throws fists

× he will definitely if you don't drag him away and you know it, they know it, the baby knows it and cheers for pappa, the whole world knows it at this point and they're buying tickets to watch the shitshow

× chest carrier and walks around with the kid like a boss

× man has shit to do, don't even dare to judge him;

× handles fits really well, he's impressive to say at least

× she's spoiled, yes and always has new toys, coloring books, whatever she wants but the moment she throws fits, he puts his foot down

× baby would be smol angery bb all adorable in all her Bakugou genetics anger and he'd just stare, tapping his foot

× literally waits in place until she calms and looks up at him with big, round eyes, puffy red cheeks and ears lowered

× mission accomplished; he nods then picks her up;

× and you're there amazed??????

× "The fuck you lookin' at?" lil shit still has a foul mouth tho, but make him get just as pouty and embarrassed as the child in his arms by saying something cheesy like "How amazing you are as a dad 💕"

× all rainbows and unicorns until she starts repeating insults and fr tho, Katsu almost shits his pants, fearing your reaction. Will, hands down, chill out with the insults even if he meant no damage with them; he has this unreadable expression on, a mix of shame and fluster, dread too? he's sorry, ok????

× loves, loves, loves cooking for you both and once the kiddo has her own special chair to sit at the dining table together, that's when he sees it: his dream

× you, wiping some food off her cheek with a loving expression, talking about your day casually, baby giggling while she moves her face away playfully; he loves you both so much.

× has these rare moments where, at the end of the day once you're settled in bed, he'd hug you tight and thank you in his mind for... for this... all of it...

× once she starts walking they're both a disaster

× seriously, do not expect the household to be silent ever again [ well, that dream was gone long ago anyway lol ]

× "Where the fuck do you think you're goin'?"

× rapid giggle running around from place to place

× "Oh, for fucks—"

× "Katsuki." you only need to say, catching him in his insults

× 😳 ... "Kid, come back, we're goin' to the park." Skdjkdfkl

× sudden adorable tiny fast steps approach him bc they're going for walkies!

× he is very careful with her and teaches her about stranger danger; also teaches her how to growl and even if her attempt is a total failure, small rawr leaving her lips, he's like "Yes. Good job. Now give it more heart."

× he growls as an example

× she growls back, sounding like a cute lil pup 🥺💕

× as she grows up, she obviously acts more like her father yet he knows when to stop the bad behaviors and it only takes a warning growl from him to get her to cease

× yet somehow you're the strict parent at the end of the day??????? tf????????? who made the rules??????

× starts calling her brat, squirt, lil shit 💕lovingly💕

× "your child" if she did something bad

× "Your fucking child kicked the ball into the vase and broke it." Aha, nice one, Katsuki. Good job.

× not to brag but her puppy eyes don't work on him but yours do; the problem is her puppy eyes do work on you bc she's the light of your life so if she wants something; she'll puppy-eye you knowing you'll get it for her bc daddy loves you very much 💕💞

× literally evil mastermind; didn't I tell you she's sharp? pft, she's playing you both so hard

× every day he comes back from work she runs to him at the door, tail wiggling happily behind her as she stretches her arms to be picked up and he always does, without a doubt, then proceeds to kiss the top of her head

× come out to greet him too? the whole loving routine is his absolute thing and wants to see you, have you kiss his cheek; he complains but adores it soooooo much!

× you have a family night; BONDING WITH MOODY POMERANIANS. Yes, plural, and it sounds perfect~

× even if it's just one of those animated movies he hates so much, he'll watch through all of it and make sarcastic comments just to make you both laugh; will grin satisfied asf if he manages to do so bc he's the best.

× will definitely want another kid, so how about maybe a boy??? hmm???

× asks you if you're up for the idea and if you agree, he'll roll his eyes and crack his shoulders, acting so very uninterested and purely exhausted yet his smirk would give him away:

× "Knew you'd torture me with another devil"

× throw him out, istg— 💀

[havethetimeofyourstyles]

Chapter One.

a/n: welcome to the first chapter of wtsgd! i’m so excited for you all to read this story and for what’s to come. please please please support content creators bc we’re doing this for free and it takes up a lot of energy to put out stories. so reblog, leave feedback, and send a message to motivate and support them. happy reading everyone <3

SERIES MASTERLIST | word count: 6.4k

come talk to me about wtsgd! i’d love to know your thoughts!

March 4, 2017

The trunk was filled with heavy boxes that were labeled with thick black sharpie, which didn’t seem to leave Luciana’s senses; and one too many suitcases filled with her many articles of clothing that she couldn’t get rid of—no matter how hard she tried—since she was too much of a hoarder and every piece of clothing seemed to have a lost memory in them that she tried very hard to think of, which only meant that it was worth keeping. 

A droplet of sweat leaked down the side of her face due to  her nonstop packing and heavy-lifting from her childhood room upstairs to her dad’s car in the driveway. It didn’t help that the sun was beaming down at her with every move like she was on center stage, in front of the spotlight, but it made much more sense for the sun to do that because that’s where she belonged: on stage. 

Moving to Brooklyn, New York from Cambridge, Massachusetts during, what felt like, the coldest but the sunniest day of March wasn’t the smartest move—to be fair, Luciana was never one to make a smart move, anyways—but it was one that needed to be done. Plus, all the lifting seemed to have warmed her up. 

Her destination, or now, home, in New York was one that she’d been anticipating for a while now. She had auditioned for the role as Kim in Miss Saigon on Broadway in November, and she’d gotten a callback in January for the role as the second Kim, meaning she would be on rotation to perform every week or two weeks, so the main Kim could rest. But she would still have to go to rehearsals and be on the side of the stage watching the show just in case she needed to jump in at the last minute. 

It wasn’t her ideal way of playing the main lead, but nonetheless, she was grateful for the opportunity, and she would take any chance that was thrown at her to not only take another step towards her dream, but also another learning opportunity to make her a better actress. 

Little Luci would’ve been so proud of the present Luci because it’d been her dream ever since she was younger, to be on stage and eventually, be on the big screen. Although she was far from completing her dream of being a face in Hollywood, this was a step that would take her to where she wanted to be in the future, and for that, she was proud of herself. 

As a child, Luci had been in various commercials; from being the kid that played with slime and had no lines but to just put on a big smile while the sticky substance ran through her small hands, to being the daughter in a car commercial with one line that said “Are we there yet?” with a groan and a face of exhaustion as if she were the one driving the car. She hoped that these commercials would have someone recognize her talent, to cast her as a Disney star, but that would require moving to California, which her parents were wary of. 

The commercials stopped when she reached middle school. Her early adolescent years consisted of an abundance of attitude and mood swings; Luci was a very tough and determined kid. Her love for acting had grown into a big balloon that was let go and on its way into the galaxy where no one could reach it—where no one could mess with her achieving her dream. 

She would always stand in front of her white wooden framed mirror—with delicately painted colorful flowers around the border—reciting lines that she heard from a television series or the films that she watched, and she would write them down in her blue notebook. Sometimes, her parents would let her search the script up if it was available online. But oftentimes, she would test and challenge her memorization, and listen to it by ear; testing her mind, and eventually, her memorization skills were immaculate by the age of eleven. 

It was perfect timing because by the time she was in middle school, she was able to snatch the roles she wanted when her school’s drama department held school plays. Her family thought that she would start to hate being on stage since school plays always ran until late evening, but being part of the productions had only enhanced her love for her talent, and it only prepared her for a quarter of what her future may look like. 

All in all, from a very young age, she always knew that she wanted to become an actress. The spotlight or the center of the camera was where she always craved to be. 

And she was finally making that dream come true. 

A black Toyota Camry pulled into the space behind the car that was filled with her belongings. Ren and Beatrice, Luci’s lovely parents, both get out of the car with a pink box of donuts—a snack for the road and for when she gets to her new apartment. 

“Ready, Lucky?” Beatrice asked, rubbing her daughter’s back. She was quite bummed to see Luci leave her childhood home, but she’s proud to see Lucky Luci chase her dreams. She was, after all, twenty-five and was bound to move out at some point, but to see it actually happen made Beatrice quite emotional. 

“Ma, please, don’t cry…” Luci frowned as Beatrice pressed her fingertips to the corners of her eyes. She wrapped her arm around her mother’s shoulder, comforting her. “You’re all coming to New York in a month, right? To watch me on stage?” Luci asked, reassuring herself that she would see her family in a different state to rescue her from her loneliness. 

Luci was an independent woman. She could do tasks by herself, go places alone, and she wouldn’t have a problem with it; she enjoyed the company of herself. But to know that at some point she might be alone—that everyone had left her behind or forgotten about her—was what scared her. She needed to know that the people who loved her unconditionally wouldn’t forget about her. 

“Of course we’re going!” Ren exclaimed with a smile that Luci was going to miss seeing everyday. “We can’t miss our baby on the Broadway stage. If we could, we’d go to every damn show that you’re in, but that would be a lot of gas, no?” 

She chuckled, nodding her head. She felt tears pricking her eyes at how supportive her parents were—they’ve always been. If she could, she would take them with her to New York, but her one bedroom apartment and their work said otherwise. 

“Now, Lucky, don’t cry.” It was Beatrice’s turn to comfort her daughter. Like any parent, when they see their child cry, it breaks their heart and they cry too. “We’re gonna see you real soon. You can always come back anytime you want. We’re just a phone call away and we’ll pick you up,” Beatrice said between sniffles. The mother and daughter were embracing so tenderly and comfortingly—enjoying every last moment together until they got to see each other again. 

“Jeez, you’re both the same—always crying!” Ren interrupted, making the two women laugh; and he was glad they found what he said amusing because he couldn’t handle the sad moment. “C’mon here, my Lulu.” Luci settled into her father’s arms, hugging him tightly. She’s always been her dad’s girl, despite having a close relationship with her mother, her relationship with her father was something that felt like home; he always knew what to say and when to say it. It helped that she was the female version of him. “You’re gonna be the best star out there, I’m sure of it. Now, I want you to have fun, alright? The fame, the fortune, the big city…it doesn’t amount to anything if you’re not having the time of your life” He comfortingly rubbed Luci’s back, holding her in a warm and tight squeeze. 

Luci smiled at her father’s words. She was always a bit hard on herself when she would mess up or forget a line or a movement that correlates to a specific line in her script. When she was younger, she would beat herself up for a sliver of a moment; she would cry into her pillow—sobs loud enough that they were heard from downstairs. Luci would think that she wouldn’t become a well-known actress just because of the minor forgetfulness her mind had presented. But Ren would gently tap on her ocean blue door, letting himself in because he knew his daughter didn’t have the energy to get up and let him in, and he would sit beside her, gently urging her to sit up with him. Once she complied, after many groans of refusals, she would be glad she did because her father looked deeply into her eyes—and it was like looking into the reflection of clear and clean water—and told her she was a star. It was only three words, but those three words reminded her to never give up and get up when she would hit the pavement of what she felt like were her fallen hopes and dreams. 

Ren would then end it with a statement of advice that had always lingered in her mind, resonating to the silent and harshful words that she tells herself. ‘Nothing will amount to anything if you’re not having the time of your life.’

A rush of gratitude settled upon her as her eyes became glossier by the seconds she was in Ren’s arms. Beatrice looked at her greatest treasures fondly, a smile appeared on her face only for it to be replaced by a look of confusion. 

“Where is that damn brother of yours? He said he was going to be here at ten!” Beatrice interrupted the sweet moment she was having with her father, making them disconnect from the hug—just as Ren did with Luci and Beatrice.  

Speaking of the devil, her dear brother was making his way towards home on the side of the street, wearing a grey sweatshirt that was stained with his sweat as his earphones were nestled in his ears, loudly playing music. He loudly sang along to some rap song, breath staggered as he rapped along with his hands. 

Nathan smiled once he stepped foot onto the driveway as he took out his earphones, seeing his family look at him vigilantly. Luci laughed, shaking her head. 

“Hey, there’s our superstar, little Ana!” Nathan opened his arms, ready to hug you but she quickly stopped him, curving her spine backwards to deny his hug. Ana had been one of the many nicknames her family had called her when she was growing up from the second half of her name, but Ana seemed to have stuck with Nathan as no one else really called her that, so it was his own personal nickname for her. 

“Ew, please, do not hug me.” Her face wrinkled in disgust from the spell of her brother’s sweat from his run. Nathan chuckled, playfully rolling his eyes before turning towards his parents. 

“Ooh, donuts-”

Beatrice slapped the back of his hand before he even got a chance to open the pink donut box. “Not until you shower and change. Lulu needs to be in Brooklyn by three!” 

“Ow, mother!” Nathan whipped his hand away from Beatrice’s burning slap, although he was just playing around and being dramatic. “But fine, alright. The star always gets what she wants, am I right?” He dropped his head towards Luci, sighing before he hurried inside the house to take a quick shower and change. 

Luci giggled, telling her parents that she would be right back to go up to her room to check if she’d gotten everything, even though she knew that she had everything, she just needed to reminisce alone for a moment. 

Her feet took her up the wooden stairs, where she, for some unknown reason, always spent her time sitting on as she leaned her back against the wall and read or drew. Nathan always found it weird of her when they were doing homework when they were younger, but it was just one of the many fun anecdotes he could tell reporters if he’s asked about their childhood. 

Pushing open her ocean blue door that she never changed because she loved the color, she was met with the emptiness of what was once her sanctuary. Despite the paint on the wall changing, the replacement of furniture, and rearrangement of her childhood room, Luci could still see the baby pink walls where she hung up various posters of her celebrity crushes when she was eight. She could still see herself walking over to her Cinderella white wooden dresser as she pulled out an inflatable microphone from her drawer before she walked over to her bed to sing her heart out with her cousin. In the corner of her room was her mirror that she painted colorful flowers along the border when she was younger, and she definitely did not want to change or get rid of it; it wasn’t difficult to stir up a memory when she was in front of that mirror because up until now, she was always reciting her lines to her own reflection until the late night. 

All of these memories that Luci held within her heart would help her ground herself—remind her where she came from. No matter where her career took her, she would always be the girl that was firstly known in her room, crying, laughing, and acting within the four baby pink walls until she was sixteen, and then it changed to an ecru white. The feeling of nostalgia clutched her chest, and for the second time today—not even noon, yet—she found herself crying. 

She silently sobbed in her sanctuary. Her chest felt tight, like her heart was grasping onto the memories, begging her to not leave, to not move on. But moving on would mean being stuck, and she didn’t want to feel stuck—she just never wanted to be in one place where the walls would slowly feel like they were closing in on her. She didn’t want to be in one place and eventually hated it, so for that, she had to move on. 

A soft knock was heard from the outside of her bedroom, making Luci turn around hastily. She found Beatrice standing in the doorway, warmly smiling at her daughter, and keeping the tears at bay because she needed the comfort of her mother more than her mother’s tears. 

“My Lucky Star…” Beatrice walked into the room, welcoming Luci into her arms. “You okay?” 

Luci deeply inhaled and exhaled as she calmed herself down from her cries. “I’m alright. It’s just hard saying goodbye to this place—to my room.”’

“Oh, Lulu. You don’t need to say goodbye. I know you’ll be coming back here soon, anyways. I know you love home too much to completely stay away.” Beatrice was subtly trying to remind Luci about her love for her hometown, for her home, but her words also were trying to remind her about that certain love for her home and to never forget that love so she doesn’t stray away because Beatrice was simply afraid Luci would never want to come back once she discovered the luxury of her career. And even though she knew her Lulu wasn’t one to forget about her family, Beatrice would never admit her fear. 

Luci sniffled, wiping her tears away as she pulled away from her mother’s embrace. “Yeah, I know. Just…doesn’t feel real that I’m leaving.” 

“Sure, you’re leaving, but you’re going off to do bigger and better things. You were never one to stay in one place, physically and mentally—you were always moving, always loved learning more. And I’ve always been so intrigued and interested in how your mind works.” 

“Ma…” The waterworks seemed to be the highlight of the move. 

“I’m serious! I’m so genuinely proud of you. You’ve been keeping your talent—and I don’t mean ‘high school plays’ talent. I mean your Broadway, Hollywood, Academy winning talent. Now, you get to showcase your light in front of thousands of people.” Beatrice always had a way of boosting Luci’s self-esteem, making her ego a tad bit more bigger than it already was. She didn’t mind if her self-esteem had skyrocketed into the galaxy of her dreams, but she always reminded Luci that being humble and kind always outweighed being obnoxious and arrogant. “Now, enough with these tears. You’ve got a road trip to New York. C’mon, now.” 

They made their way downstairs and out the door where Ren and Nathan were talking about the latest basketball game of the Celtics. The trunk was closed, and the only thing waiting was Luci herself. 

“There she is! Ready?” 

Luci took a deep breath, turning her head to look back at the pastel yellow house that had kept her safe for the past twenty-five years. From here, she knew everything was going to change. Whether it’d be for the good or if things would go downhill from here? She didn’t know; all she knew was that she was going to be doing what she loved and she was going to have the time of her life doing it. 

“Yeah, I’m ready.” 

The state of Connecticut seemed to pass by quickly from the car as Nathan drove at a decent seventy miles per hour; the state vanished just as quickly as when they entered. 

Luci mindlessly looked out the window, thinking about everything and nothing at once as she drowned out the music playing through the speakers of the car and Nathan’s voice singing along. 

The cars passing by, the bystanders, and the locals filled the streets and highways, making her wonder what all of these people’s stories were—wondering if they lived in this city or if they were just stopping by to visit, or if they’re just going through the state to get to the one next door just as she was. Maybe she’s had an encounter or simply passed by them on the street in a world that seemed too large but small at the same time. She always pondered on whether everyone else thought the way she thought—if they wondered what her story was or the people around them. 

The world is an interesting place and there were so many intriguing people out there, making her more excited by the minute as she takes on this new adventure in her life that would be completely life changing. Luci’s going to be meeting so many new people that, she would hope, have an impact on her personal life or career. 

“Nervous?” Nathan broke the comfortable silence between them. 

Luci raised her brows and curled her lips into her mouth. “A bit.” 

He nodded, thinking for a moment. Nathan was always one to think before he spoke, and it was a quality that some people needed to learn how to do. He quickly learned that lesson when he was in high school; one of his friends, Johnny, and him were going back and forth joking around with one another. And for some odd reason, teenage boys liked to joke around about fucking everything, so Nathan had said “Yeah, I fucked your mom, what about it?” without thinking. Johnny stayed silent, the rest of their friends were waiting for his comeback, but they only received tears that glossed over his eyes before he ran off to a different part of campus, away from the lunch tables. Nathan found him behind the orchestra building with his face pressed on his kneecaps, crying. Later, he found out that Johnny’s mother had passed away before their sophomore year started and he hadn’t told anyone, which left Nathan quite speechless, but it was a lesson that he learned: to think before anything comes out of his mouth. 

“I know you’ll do great. You were born to do this, born to be on stage. Everything you do is to greater your experience and opportunities. All the mistakes you’re gonna make, which we both know you’re gonna make, they’re gonna be learning lessons for you to continue doing what you’re good at doing; the mistakes are there so you can better yourself,” he reassured, occasionally glancing at you briefly before averting his eyes back onto the highway. 

Luci smiled, never taking her eyes off her older brother. She leaned closer to the middle console, where his right arm was resting on the padded console. Hugging his arm tightly and resting her cheek on his shoulder, she accepted and appreciated his advice, his words. They made her heart fill up with so much gratitude and love, insanely grateful and happy that she had such an amazing and supportive family who always knew the right things to say when they could sense her nerves and anxieties powering through the roof. 

“You’re gonna kill it out there. This is just a step towards where you wanna go, where you actually wanna be.” 

She nodded, looking to her right as they quickly passed the ‘Welcome to New York’ sign from the state line of Connecticut and New York, and it was the sign indicating her new home. 

Nathan pulled into the apartment’s parking garage, entering in with the code that the complex gave Luci on the silver keypad as the two watched the automatic gate arm swing up to the side, and Nathan entered the parking structure, parking in one of the many spaces available. 

Luci excitedly got out of the car, rushing to the trunk where Nathan had opened it from inside the car. Unfortunately, she had forgotten to bring the hand dolly to help carry the boxes, which meant that the siblings were going to have to carry the many boxes she packed by her own hand and strength. But luckily, some of them weren’t that heavy; most of the items in the brown boxes were kitchenware and she figured she could just drag those. 

One by one, they took one box each and headed for the elevator, where it took them to her apartment floor—floor four. Luci grabbed the keys from her purse that contained two copper keys hanging on one single silver loop and a small keyless sensor, and she unlocked her navy blue door, revealing her new apartment. 

When she entered, she was met with a door across the entrance that she would use for her coats and shoes, things that she would need when she’s rushing out the door. Going through the small hallway in from the entrance, it led her to another small hallway to her left where her bedroom and guest bathroom was; and to her right, it would take her to the kitchen and living space. With four big windows with black window frames, the natural light really came in, making her place brighter for saving electricity. 

Walking in and putting the boxes against the black cabinets in the kitchen, she immediately fell in love with the space, her space. Despite already taking a tour of the apartment a few months prior to her official move in day, it felt different being there for the second time because she now knew that this place was hers. She saw it in a different light, and she was already anticipating the memories she was going to make in her new home. The place was empty; and with every step and every noise from her mouth, the room would echo, and she loved it. There was something satisfying about the echo in an empty space that was hers, like she wanted to furnish the hell out of it, but at the same time, she didn’t mind the echo. 

“This is your new home.” Nathan put an arm around Luci’s shoulder. He got a bit emotional seeing his baby sister grow up and move away from home, but he was excited for all of the experiences and memories she was going to make. Luci looked up at him, not saying anything but smiling as she was speechless. Nathan could practically feel the excitement run through her and all he did was chuckle at her speechlessness. “C’mon, let’s go get the rest of the boxes.” 

For the next fifteen minutes, Luci and Nathan hauled the boxes from the car, to the elevator, and down the hallway to her apartment. There were about four more boxes left in the trunk, and they would’ve been finished by now if they hadn’t been taking breaks. 

Nathan’s phone rang as he was sitting on the floor, leaning against the cabinets of the kitchen across from Luci who was sitting in the corner where her dining table would be. 

“Hello?” Answered Nathan. “What? Tonight? I’m in New York. I’m helping my little sister move here. Uh, okay. Sure. Bye.” He groaned, standing up. 

“Who was that?” Luci asked, nosy as she was. 

“That was one of the board members at Mass General Hospital.” Luci’s eyes widened. “They just asked me if I could come in tonight to teach and supervise the new residents.” Nathan was a general doctor working in the Emergency Room as Mass General back in Boston. He’s always wanted to teach with all the knowledge he’s stored in his brain—always wanting someone to learn a thing or two when they spoke to him, and this was his chance. 

“Holy shit, that’s amazing, Nate!” Luci stood up, excited for him.

He started to breathe a bit heavily and Luci immediately took notice; she could practically feel the nerves coming out of him, the same nerves she felt while going in for an audition. “Yeah, I actually have to leave, like, right now.” 

“Hey, hey.” She quickly stopped him from running out of the building and out of his mind. “Come here—breathe with me for a second.” She held onto his wrists gently. 

“Luci, I have to-”

He pulled away, but she tugged him back. “You’re going to drive yourself through the highway, and who knows what will happen, you might get pulled over and you won’t make it to the hospital. So, just take sixty seconds to breathe with me.” 

For the remainder of the time that they had together, they took some deep breaths. She spoke encouraging and uplifting words to him to calm down his nerves and anxieties that he seemed to drive himself over a cliff for, and it seemed to work as Nathan’s shoulder’s weren’t so tense and the grip on her hands had loosened. 

The two of them walked down to the parking garage where Nathan took down the last four boxes and placed them by the entrance of the complex. He was adamant on helping her get the last few boxes up to her apartment, but she shrugged it off, telling him that she was able to carry them and that he needed to leave because he’s most likely going to hit traffic during rush hour. 

“Call me if you need anything, okay? I mean it. I will drive here in a heartbeat.” 

“I will, I will-”

“Just not tonight,” he joked. “This is the highlight of my career.” His smile was so bright that it was like he was a little kid on Christmas again who just received a Hot Speed set from Santa. 

Luci laughed, hugging him goodbye. “And call me if you need anything too. I’ll miss seeing you everyday,” she admitted, a slight frown on her face. She thought she’d have the entire day with Nathan, but it was cut short due to his work but she wasn’t mad about that at all because she knew there'd be plenty of times when he would drive down to walk along the New York streets and see her perform. 

“I’m gonna miss you too, Ana. But I love you and I’ll see you next month!” He hurried into his car, and Luci watched him as he pulled out of the driveway, waving at the rear view mirror to say one last ‘see you later’ to his little sister. 

Walking back to the curb where all of the boxes were set, Luci picked one up to test how heavy it was and she barely made it upright without almost hurting her back, so she put the box down to take a proper breather. She decided to drag the box closer to the door of the complex—which saved her a few steps without completely dropping the box that was labeled ‘glass plates’—and pulled the handle of the door, only to find it completely locked. There was a slight panic that flew through her until she realized that she needed her keyless tag that she had to press against the pad on the wall to get inside the complex, so she blew out a sigh of relief before reaching down to her pocket for her key, and with just her luck, her keys weren’t in her pocket or with her at all. Then she started to panic again. 

Luci quickly walked out of the parking garage and to the front of the building where the leasing office was to find them closed, which was odd because it was Saturday, but apparently their servers were down so they just decided to take the entire day off. She rolled her eyes annoyingly, walking back to the garage in a fast manner because she didn’t want anyone to take her boxes, and so she figured that she could just wait until someone left the complex or arrived. She even left her phone at her place, so it wasn’t like she could call anyone to help her, but some sort of entertainment would help the time go by quicker. 

Sitting on the curb in the garage, pacing back and forth on the sidewalk, and humming the melody from the Miss Saigon soundtrack, an hour goes by until she sees someone walk past the automatic gate barrier, heading towards the entrance where he opened the door with his tag. Luci sprinted towards the door, calling out for help. 

“Wait, wait!” The man turned around confusingly, taking his AirPod out of one ear. She caught up, taking deep breaths as she waved at the man. “Sorry, I’ve been out here for an hour and I completely forgot my key.” He didn’t say anything but stared at her, wondering why he’s never seen this woman before. The apartment complex really only had four floors, and he’s sure that he’s seen everyone who’s lived here. She noticed that he looked down at the boxes and back at her. “Oh, I just moved in.” He nodded more understandingly. “Do you mind holding the door for me?” 

“Sure.” Was the first thing he told her before stepping aside to hold the door. She took another deep breath, getting into the correct form so she doesn’t throw her back out, and began to lift the heavy box. He noticed her struggling, and he felt foolish for not offering his help in the first place when he noticed the four boxes on the cement. “Here, sorry, let me help with that. Get the door, yeah?” Luci’s heart flipped once she heard his deep, accented voice before she gratefully thanked him and he grabbed the box from her, replacing her hands with his and the slightest brush of their fingers made her flustered; he held the box tightly to his chest without much struggle. 

“Yeah, let me just get this one.” Luci grabbed a much lighter box that had all of her shoes, and held the door for him with her foot as he made his way inside of the building and to the elevator. He pressed the button with the arrow pointing up, and luckily, they didn’t have to wait for more than five seconds before the bell at the top chimed and the stainless steel doors opened. 

With the heavy box in his hands, he still let Luci walk in first, which made her smile and he followed in as she pressed with the bold ‘4’ printed on it. He held the box in between his chest and the other end of the bar on the wall as they waited in silence as the elevator lifted them up to her apartment floor, and she brushed past him when he lifted his arm, gesturing her to go first. 

Her front door was closed but it was unlocked, which only made sense, so she opened her door, putting the box next to the entrance and politely asking the man to put it next to the one you put down. 

“Thank you so much, really. You have no idea how much I appreciate your help.” 

“It’s no problem. I was the same when I moved here too—forgot my keys and was locked out.” He related to make her feel lighter about the situation since it was an honest mishap. 

“Did you go to the leasing office?” She asked curiously. 

“Yeah, but they were closed.” 

“They’re closed today too! It’s like they do that on purpose whenever someone new moves in.” The man chuckled, scratching the back of his neck. 

She hadn’t gotten a proper look at him since she was too distracted by trying to get into her building, but just by one real look at him, he was very attractive—probably too attractive to where she couldn’t think straight. He was wearing a pastel yellow and white striped button down that was a bit flowy and open, showing his white tank underneath that was tucked into his black skinny jeans. His tank top was low enough, exposing a patch of chest hair and his necklace that rested against his skin, in between his swallow tattoos just below his collarbones. Rings hugged his long fingers on both hands as he held two brown paper bags from Trader Joes. He was handsome, that’s for sure, and she felt like she was going to compare his beauty to all the other men that she was going to encounter in the future. 

“They’re not very good at going into work, but if you give them a call then it’s like they’re a 24/7 help center.” 

Luci nodded, chuckling. “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“I’ll help you with the last boxes.” Before she was about to protest and tell him that he didn’t have to help her anymore because she was sure the last ones were light, he made his way towards the elevator and she quickly followed. 

To her surprise, one of the boxes was heavier than the other and she was glad that the man was able to carry it for her. They took the boxes up to her apartment, stacking it on top of the ones that were set down before she thanked him gratefully again. 

“I really appreciate all your help.” She smiled, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Not that I’m doubting your strength or anything, but how were you supposed to get those boxes up to your apartment?” He asked softly, not wanting to offend her by his words. 

“Oh, my brother was supposed to help me, but he had to go back home for an emergency at work.” The man nodded, seeming that was the most acceptable answer, not like he was searching if she was lying. “But thank you for your help. You’re a true lifesaver,” she said with a soft smile on her face. Her tone was a bit flirty than she wanted it to be, but it naturally came out. 

“It’s not a problem. I’ll see you around.” Luci hadn’t closed her door yet, but she found out that he was literally her neighbor on the opposite side of the wall. He didn’t even have to take two steps to get to his place—all he had to do was turn around and he was home. She smiled at the thought of that, glad that her neighbor was already so kind to her. 

As he was fumbling with his keys, he eventually got his door unlocked, and Luci was itching to ask what his name was—maybe make her first friend during her first day living in the big city. The man felt his neighbor's eyes on him, burning through the back of his head, so he turned around at the same time she spoke. 

“Uh, hey,” Luci called out. He was looking over his shoulder, pursing his lips as he raised his brows. “I was wondering if…you’d like to have dinner with me tonight? Y’know, to thank you for all your help and practically saving me while I was stranded.” She chuckled, playing with the tips of her fingers as she looked at him with hope. 

He thought the invitation was nice, but…“It’s okay, really. I, uh, have plans already tonight,” he admitted honestly because he doesn’t make a habit of being dishonest. 

Luci had some thick skin—she grew it throughout the years, and she had always been pretty confident. So many people would think that she could handle rejection well because she’s auditioned for many roles in her lifetime, and had been rejected for most of those roles. But the rejection that her neighbor handed to her so respectfully and politely was one that hit her the most, and she didn't know why. 

Curling her lips into her mouth as she felt the pang of her heart sinking into her chest, she nodded and placed a small smile onto her face. 

“Have fun tonight, then. I’ll see you around.” She grinned, hiding the slight bit of pain that she felt. He nodded, walking inside his apartment as she was in her doorway as well. “Oh, I’m Luci, by the way.” She introduced herself, feeling like she should have done that ten minutes ago, but it had slipped her mind. 

The corner of the man’s mouth turned up into a sly smirk, and she nearly felt herself fall as she gripped the door handle tightly. It was enough to make the pain in her chest disappear, and all thoughts of the rejection that she would think about for the rest of the night vanished. 

“Nice to meet you, Luci. I’m Harry.” 

With that, Harry closed his door, putting a barrier between him and Luci, who was still standing in her doorway. She let out the longest sigh of her life, feeling like she’d been constricting herself from breathing properly for the last ten minutes. 

Luci closed her door and leaned against it, looking down at the boxes that were resting by her feet. She softly smiled, her cheeks were starting to get warm, and she was fully aware that Harry was the cause of it.

come talk to me about your thoughts and feelings! hope you all enjoyed the first chapter, thank you for reading <3 

ty to @sunflowers-styles​ for beta reading!

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

Can you please do one where y/n tells Harry that she’s bi, harry’s supportive but then she tells him that he’s the only one who knows bc she scared her parents would find out and do something bc they are very homophobic?? Plssss plss

I tried to make this as accurate as I could, but I am not a member of the LGBT+ community, so I’m really sorry if this isn’t an accurate portrayal!

bisexual

warnings: anxiety, coming out, mentions of homophobia

word count: 1.3k

You had to tell him. You knew you had to tell him. You just didn't know what to say. How do you even start a conversation like that? "Hey Harry, by the way, I like men- and women?" Maybe not like that. Or, actually, maybe just like that. Maybe it would be better to just say it fast? No beating around the bush. Just go for it. You knew he would be supportive. You knew he wouldn't look at you any differently. Still, you couldn't manage to shove your nerves down.

And it wasn't just Harry. There was also the matter of your family. Your very conservative family who definitely wouldn't accept this part of you. You could already hear their responses if you were ever to tell them. "Oh, Y/N, you're not bisexual. It's wrong, and we raised you better than this. What will our friends think? What will the church think?" You really didn't need to deal with that, not when you were having a hard enough time understand it on your own. You didn't need the added confusion and judgement and intolerance you knew your family would give you. Nonetheless, you didn't know how much longer you could keep this hidden from everyone. It felt like you were lying to the people you loved. You didn't care as much about your family not knowing; you knew they wouldn't be accepting anyways. But you hated that you were keeping this from Harry. So finally, you decided to get it over with. You felt the anxiety twisting in your stomach every time you saw him, wondering if now was the time. You knew it would only get worse the longer you kept it in, so you needed to get it off your chest, and soon. You were pulled out of your spiraling thoughts when the front door slammed open. You were on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, deep in thought and staring at the paused episode of Grey's Anatomy as you chewed on your bottom lip. You had stopped the episode almost an hour ago, because you couldn't focus on anything. You had decided that today was the day to tell Harry. It was the perfect time, you thought. Things had been really good between you lately. Harry wasn't too stressed at work, and neither were you. Anyways, what's that saying? There's no time like the present. "Hi baby!" Harry chirped, sauntering into the living room. He leaned over the back of the couch, putting his arms around your shoulders as he kissed your cheek. "Hi," you squirmed away from him, giggling as his hair tickled the side of your face when he moved closer to you. Harry took it upon himself to flip over the back of the couch, landing next to you (and partly on top of you) with a clumsy movement. It took a few moments of shuffling and laughing as he tried not to hit you with his lanky arms or legs, but he finally settled himself with his head in your lap. "How was your day?" He looked up at you with a lazy grin. "Good," you smiled down at him, threading your fingers through his messy hair. "How was yours?" "Also good," he closed his eyes at the soothing feeling of your fingers. "I got a lot done. Might have some new songs for you to hear soon." "Really?" You asked excitedly. You were one of the first people who got to hear the finished products, and it was such a special feeling for both of you. "Mhm," he nodded. "I think you're really going to like one of them." "I think I'm really going to like all of them," you corrected. "Right," he laughed. "That's what I meant." The two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence, your fingers still stroking through his hair as he breathed softly. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes to look up at you again. "You can start your show again if you want." Harry acted like he didn't care about the show, but you both knew he was into it. He got really involved and you definitely saw him crying during a few of the main character deaths. "Oh- that's ok, I wasn't really watching anyways." "No?" You shook your head, looking away from him when he sat up. He turned to face you, resituating so your legs were on his lap. "Why not?" "Just thinking," you said, looking down at your fingers. He followed your gaze, sighing softly when he saw you were picking at your cuticles, a telltale sign of anxiety for you. "About?" he questioned gently, using his hands to pull yours apart. He did this whenever he saw you picking at your skin, and it make your heart squeeze every time.  "I kind of... I have to tell you something," you said, inhaling a shaky breath. "What's up?" He ducked his head down to meet your gaze. His features filled with concern when he saw how your eyes were filling up with

tears. "What is it? Did something happen?" You shook your head, wiping your sleeve over your eyes quickly. "No- well, not really." "Not really? Are you ok?" "I'm- it's not... bad," you tried to reassure him, but the terrified look on your face was probably not very convincing. You took another deep breath, trying to slow your heart which at this point was pounding out of your chest. You felt sick with nerves when you finally looked up at Harry. "You- you have to promise me something." "Of course, baby, anything," he said, clasping your hands in his. "Promise me you won't... you won't think less of me, o-or love me less." "Of course I won't love you less," he leaned closer, and the look on his face was heartbreaking. He looked almost as upset as you. "Please, just tell me what's wrong?" "It's just- I've been thinking, for a long time now," you began, looking down at your intertwined hands when his gaze got too intense. "And I think- I think I'm bisexual," you whispered. You could almost feel the tension melting away from his body. "That's what you were so scared to tell me?" He asked gently. You nodded, still avoiding his eyes. "Baby," he ducked his head to look at you. You lifted your own, finally meeting his gaze. "Why did you think I would love you less because of that?" You shrugged, attempting to swallow the lump in your throat as more tears filled your eyes and your vision blurred. "Come here," he said soothingly, pulling you into his arms. You didn't even try to hold your tears back anymore, instead just letting them flow out onto his shirt as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He held you close, rocking back and forth gently as you cried. His heartbeat was the most comforting thing you had heard in a long time. Once you finally calmed down a bit, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this," he spoke softly, not loosening his grip on you. "I'm sorry you were so scared to tell me. Did you think I would be upset or something?" "No," your voice shook slightly with the remnants of your crying. "Not really. But my parents will be, and everyone else in my family. They'll tell me I'm wrong, and that they're disappointed in me, and... they won't love me anymore," your voice trailed off as you thought through all the possibilities. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "That's awful." You nodded. "Which is why you can't tell anyone," you looked up. "You're the only one who knows, because they genuinely might disown me," you said, fear evident in your voice. "Of course I won't say anything," he soothed, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "It's not for me to tell." You nodded again, smiling slightly when he thumbed away a stray tear on your cheek. "Thank you for being so supportive." "Of course, lovie," he smiled. "You can always talk to me, okay? You can always tell me anything, because I will always love you."

[detectivereyes]

I Watched the Leaves Go From Green to Grey

Summary: When TK gets anxious, he gets into fights.

Notes: for the self-harm square on my @badthingshappenbingo card, or my interpretation of it bc i didn’t want to write a traditional “self harm” fic yk

beta’d by @marjansmarwani and also s/o to loml @seaoflittlefires for providing her objective perspective and fixing all my past/present tense issues 💗

word count: 2.3k

read on ao3

If you asked TK, the first time it happened was definitely an accident. 

He wasn’t planning on getting into a fight, and he wasn’t even that high. Instead he found himself riding out the tail end of a high in some dingy bar in the East Village, trying to numb the pain with whatever alcohol the bartender would give him with a quick flash of his fake ID. At only 16, he knew he didn’t look 21, but the bartender didn’t ask or didn’t care.

It started with a simple misplacement of his elbow, brushing up too close against the glass of whiskey belonging to the burly man sitting next to him. He didn’t even realize what had happened until he heard the glass shatter on the floor between them.

He started to stutter out some form of an apology but not before he felt a flash of pain hit his face, radiating through his lower jaw until his body collided with the ground. Though he was caught off guard, the pain he’s feeling didn’t feel wrong. In fact it made him feel alive.

He hopped back up, managing to throw in a few punches of his own until more of the burly man's friends showed up and he couldn't decipher which direction the blows were coming from. But with each punch or kick, he felt more empowered. Each freshly formed bruise serving as a reminder that he wasn’t actually numb. 

He was here, and he was alive.

Fortunately, he had managed to sneak out before the cops showed up. Unfortunately, the bruises did not go unnoticed by his mom or dad. Though they didn’t press too hard, he knew he would have to be more careful next time.

He never forgot the outlet getting into fights provided. A way to not only relieve the numbness, but relieve stress and have the pain on the outside match what he felt on the inside.

He didn’t get into fights that often, only when the pain built up too much and he needed to let it out somehow. Or sometimes he used it as a way to just quiet the anxious thoughts when substances no longer did the trick.

Even after he got clean, he would occasionally find himself back in some random bar that he hadn’t managed to get himself kicked out of yet. Every bar had at least one drunk asshole who he knew would be easy to pick a fight with.

He quickly learned the right words to trigger the perfect reaction. He also got better ducking and throwing his own punches, and hiding the bruises that did form on his skin until his parents no longer noticed or worried about him.

When he arrived in Austin, he figured it would only be a matter of time before he found himself in a dingy bar on the outskirts of town, opposite of the bar the team frequented to avoid any chance of running into a familiar face.

The numb feeling and colorless vision was too much and Judd’s words only served to exacerbate the pain he was feeling inside. He attempted to fight Judd, knowing his larger frame could do a lot of damage and would do the trick. But he should have known the other man wouldn’t fight back, instead holding him close so he couldn’t do any damage until Paul broke them up.

As soon as the shift ended, TK all but ran into the Uber. The tension in his body wound up too tight and he knew it wouldn’t settle until he got in a fight. 

The fight itself was a blur, but what happened next wasn’t. As he walked out of the police station with his bag of belongings and busted lip still pulsing in pain, Carlos’ words rang in his ear.

You should talk to someone about why you felt compelled to do something so suicidal.

Was it suicidal? He always saw it as a way to remind himself that he was alive, not trying to die. But he'd also never met someone who cared so much about his well being. 

The police officers he usually ran into during his fights never seemed to give a shit about why he did what he did. And if the guys he hooked up with noticed the busted lips or black eyes, they never said anything.

Carlos checked both of those boxes, yet seemed genuinely concerned with what TK was getting himself into.

That was when he knew things would be different here.

And they were for a time. For a while the color returned into his life and the pain that he had grown so accustomed to settled into a dull ache that he barely noticed.

But like everything else, the good could never last. And soon enough the pain grew more noticeable and he felt like he was going to jump out of his skin. He needed to know he wasn't numb. He needed to feel pain. He needed to fight.

So he found himself in another dingy bar, much similar to the one he went to when he got to Austin over a year ago. He knew he shouldn’t be there. He had to call someone. But Carlos was on shift and his dad was on a date and while both would have probably picked up in a heartbeat, he couldn't do that to them. And anyone else he could have called wouldn’t understood or known what to do. 

He knew what he had to do.

On muscle memory he ran through his routine, spouting out the perfect words to trigger the reaction he craved. 

After only a few blows to the face, the punches stopped and the fight broke up as the cops arrived. He scanned the area, letting out a sigh of relief when he didn't see Carlos’ familiar brown eyes, and managed to slip out the back before anyone noticed.

The Uber ride from the bar back to his and Carlos’ home passed by in a blur. If his driver noticed the purple bruises likely beginning to blossom on his face, she didn't say anything.

He made a beeline to the bathroom as soon as he walked through the door, hoping that the damage wasn't bad enough that he couldn't cover it up. There was no way Carlos wouldn't notice, but if cleaned it up a bit and came up with a good story, it might not be as bad.

Flipping on the light switch TK frowned at his reflection. While there were a few scattered bruises all over his body, the worst by far was the one forming around his eye, already turning a lovely shade of deep purple. Above his eye was a short but deep gash, stretching across his eyebrow.

Well, that definitely wouldn't go unnoticed.

TK sighed, rifling through the medicine cabinet until he found the box of butterfly bandaids. He knew it probably would need stitches, but if he could avoid a trip to the ER tonight, that would be ideal, and these bandages would do the trick for now. He carefully placed two on his eyebrow, hissing at the contact as the wound closed. He then shut off the light and settled on the living room sofa, waiting for Carlos to come home. 

By the time he heard the jiggling of keys in the door, a few hours had passed and he had nearly fallen asleep under the soft blanket on the couch. He panicked for a second, not quite ready for Carlos’ reaction when he saw TK’s face.

On impulse, he ducked under the blanket before the door swung open. He could see the light switch on and Carlos’ outlined shape from beneath the cover.

“Babe? What’s going on?” he asked. TK could sense he had stopped in front of the couch but was refraining from coming any closer.

“Don’t freak out,” was all TK could manage to say, and he could only imagine the confusion painting his boyfriend’s face.

“I’m freaking out that you won’t tell me what’s going on,” he stated matter of factly.

TK sighed before slowly pulling down the blanket and peeking his head out, giving Carlos a sheepish grin. 

Carlos’ eyes widened in concern as he sat down next to TK, gently running his fingers over TK’s swollen eye. “What happened, baby?”

“Combative patient,” the lie rolled too easily off his tongue. “Woke up while we were treating him and took a swing at me.”

“I see,” Carlos nodded slowly. “And these other bruises?” he added, trailing his hand over the blossoming bruises on TK’s neck and arms. When he reached his torso, he didn't miss the way TK winced at the contact. TK hadn't even realized how sore he was.

“Must have fallen a little bit in the scuffle,” he shrugged.

Carlos hummed along to TK’s response. TK tried to get a read on what Carlos was making of his story. It was a pretty good one if he gave himself any credit, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Carlos just wasn't buying it. 

“You know how people get when they’re caught off guard,” he quickly added, panicking when he realized he should be adding more details before Carlos could doubt him anymore. 

Carlos though remained silent, studying him carefully. 

“We’re here to help them but they don’t always realize that right away,” he laughed nervously, hoping Carlos wasn't catching on to his anxious rambling.

“TK,” Carlos trailed off, his eyebrows pinching together in worry. He knew something was off, and there was no getting out of it.

Before he could dig himself into a deeper hole, he decided to dam break. He launched into the whole story about how he felt so on edge after his shift and he didn’t know what else to do, which is why he fell back into old habits. Carlos listened intently as he explained what happened when he showed up at the bar and instigated the fight, and ducking out he could get caught.

“I’m so sorry, Carlos. Please don’t be mad,” he said at the end of his rant, still shaking with adrenaline while he waited to see how Carlos would handle hearing the truth. 

Carlos sighed, gently rubbing TK’s shoulder. “I’m not mad at you, TK.”

“You’re not?” TK said, sniffling. 

“No, but I am concerned at why you didn’t think you could call me. And then why you felt like you had to lie about it.”

TK shrugged. “I’m just kind of used to bottling it up, I guess.”

“But you should know you can talk to me about this kind of stuff.”

“I do! But sometimes it just gets to be so much that I don’t know what else to do and I need a way to let it all out.”

“What gets to be so much?” Carlos cocked his head to the side. 

“Everything,” TK quickly responded, as if that clarified anything he was saying. He knew he wasn't making much sense and Carlos was trying his best to understand. But TK didn't know how else to describe the way he was feeling. Like a row of tightly wound string, one pluck away from snapping. 

“TK, what happened that made you want to get into a fight tonight?” Carlos asked. 

“I,” TK started to answer but stopped himself when he realized he didn't even have a good answer. He'd never stopped to consider the reasons for why he felt this way. All he knew was that he felt like he was about to explode and he needed a good way to release it. “I don’t know.”

Carlos nodded, and TK could only admire the patience his boyfriend had with him. The tears started to well up in his eyes and he took some shaky breaths as Carlos pulled him close into a hug, letting him sob into his broad chest. 

“It’s okay if you don’t know,” he whispered softly into TK’s ear. “But I think it is important to examine why you do feel this way. And to realize when it starts to get bad so it doesn’t happen again.”

TK pulled away from Carlos’ embrace, nodding and wiping back the tears while doing so. “It just feels like there’s always this pain, and sometimes I don’t notice it but other times it’s so much that I need to do something about it. And I can’t do the other stuff I used to do to deal with it, but getting into these fights… I don’t know, it helps. Which probably doesn’t make any sense but it’s better than some of my other coping mechanisms.”

Carlos gave him a sympathetic look. “TK, it might not be drugs, but you are just as likely to get hurt.”

TK looked down, nervous squeezing his hands, unsure of how to respond to Carlos’ observations.

“It’s not healthy,” he continued. “I need you to promise me you will call next time. It doesn’t matter what time, or if I’m on shift, or I’m asleep. Talk to me about it. And talk to me about what you’re feeling all the time so we can try to prevent it getting this bad. Okay?”

TK nodded in agreement. 

“Hey,” Carlos tilted TK’s head up so they matched each other's gaze. “I’m here for you. Whatever you need.”

“I know,” he gave Carlos a small smile. “I appreciate it, and your patience with me.”

“You don’t have to thank me for that. We’re a team, and I want to help you in whatever way possible. I love you, TK”

TK melted under Carlos’ soft brown eyes and genuine smile. “I love you too, Carlos.”

[lunaverseimagine]

Escape

Prompt:  I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with from @masterofthedarkness‘ 300 follower writing challenge! Congratulations again Val, I hope you like it <3

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You’re having a bad day and your crush seems to notice

Warnings: Mention of injury (not your own), mention of alcohol

Word count: 2k

A/n: So I had a complete brain flop writing this and forgot that Snape was not, in fact, teaching potions in the Marauders era. However, I’ve written the fic now and don’t have the energy to change it, so consider this an AU of sorts? (Putting in bold bc I keep getting comments about it)

Fic:

It started the moment you woke up. You couldn’t explain why but all you wanted to do was crawl back into bed, wrap the duvet round you, and hide from the world. It was as though your energy had been sucked out of you, leaving a shell that felt too heavy. And yet you were a good student, you couldn’t stand missing lessons, plus you didn’t want anyone worrying about you. Which is why, in spite of your body’s groaning protests, you heaved yourself out of your dorm and down to the Great Hall for breakfast. 

Your friends were talking animatedly around you, occasionally trying to get you to join in the conversation, but all you offered in response were weak smiles and one word replies. As a last resort your best fried Beth tried bringing up your crush, Sirius. The topic normally excited you, but today it was just a reminder that nothing would happen between you, and you became even more withdrawn. Luckily your friends understood - you wanted to be near them but weren’t up to their early morning gossip - so they stayed with you but didn’t try to get you to speak anymore.

As always, halfway through your meal the owls swooped into the hall, bringing newspapers, letters, and the occasional parcel. Mild surprise filled you at the sight of your own family’s owl Lolly settling in front of you. You stroked her head before gently untying the small, crumpled letter attached to her leg, and she nipped your finger affectionately. Your parents didn’t send you letters very often, and you were stumped as to what could be written inside. You took a deep breath. Only one way to find out.

Unfolding the parchment carefully revealed your mum’s scrawled handwriting. Odd. Normally your dad would write the letters; he found it calming to sit with his parchment and special quill after a long day as an auror, pondering his words for a while to make his messages as concise as possible. He said the process was therapeutic. But when you read the words inside it made sense, and you felt your stomach drop.

“Y/n, I’m sorry to tell you like this, but I thought you should know. Dad was injured at work. The healers say it’s treatable but he’ll be in St Mungo’s for a while. Hope school is going ok. Love Mum xx”

Swallowing your tears down, you let the letter fall from your hands and settle on the table. You forced your eyes to look up, away from the words, and you could’ve sworn you caught Sirius watching you from across the hall. As soon as you’d thought it, he’d already turned back to his friends, and you shook your head at yourself. So desperate that you were imagining interactions with your crush. Pathetic. You lay your hand in Lolly’s warm fur, focussing on how soft she felt between your fingers, trying to push the rest of your thoughts to the back of your mind. Breaking down in the middle of the Great Hall was the last thing you wanted to do.

Your lessons did nothing to help your mood. In transfiguration you were supposed to be turning rats into clocks. By the end of the class most students had done it perfectly, but your clock had a tail instead of an hour hand, and instead of ticking it squeaked with every passing second. You felt so deflated, the only thought that kept you going was getting back to your dorm at the end of the day and hiding in your bed. Maybe finding some firewhiskey too to dull the aching you felt when your thoughts drifted to your dad in a hospital bed. In fact, what you really wanted, the one thing that might bring you peace, was to have someone hold you. Not just someone. Sirius. But you knew as well as anyone that he wouldn’t be interested in the likes of you. You couldn’t event transfigure a rat, you’d never be good enough.

You had mixed feelings as you made your way to your last lesson of the day. After this you were free for the evening, but first you had to endure an hour of Snape’s teaching, and his judgement of you. Potions was your worst subject and Snape made a point of noticing every little thing you did wrong. Begrudgingly you approached the dungeons, the echo of your footsteps was all that filled the empty corridors. Most of the time Hogwarts felt familiar, but in times like these it felt cold and unforgiving, emphasising the loneliness that was building in your chest. Wait- why was no one else in the corridors? With a jolt you realised that you’d spent so long lost in your thoughts between lessons that you were late. Your steps sped into a run, and when you finally burst through the door to Snape’s dungeon, he stopped mid sentence to scowl at you. Everyone else turned towards you too, so many pairs of eyes drilling into you. You willed the stone floor to swallow you whole.

“I will not tolerate students showing up late to my class.” You gulped, trying to suppress your heavy-breathing as you awaited your punishment. “I’d have thought you of all people would want to be present for the whole lesson. Then you might finally brew a decent potion. Alas…” he trailed off, a thoughtful expression on his face. You felt your cheeks burn, your head hung low. “Detention. After class you will scrub everyone’s cauldrons clean. No magic allowed.” It was all you could do to nod. You felt so defeated as you stood at the table beside Beth that you almost didn’t notice the small explosion a few tables behind you. You whipped your head around, and- no, you definitely weren’t imagining it this time- Sirius winked at you as Snape stalked between the desks towards the commotion. He glared down at Sirius.

“Looks like Y/L/N won’t be alone in detention.” He sneered, and weaved his way to the front of the class without another word. Your jaw was slack and Beth nudged you with her elbow. 

“He did that on purpose!” She whisper-yelled. Your jaw was slack, not quite sure if you believed her.

“Well- well maybe it was an accident? Or he did it for fun?” Your excuses were weak even to your own ears. But why would he want to be in detention with you?

Seconds stretched into minutes as you willed the time away. Thankfully Beth was good at potions so she did most of the work, telling you which ingredients to chop and when to add them to the cauldron. Snape still found things to fault but you just tuned his voice out, feeling like you were watching the scene through a window instead of being in it yourself.

Eventually the class was dismissed, and Beth gave you a sympathetic smile and mouthed “good luck” as she left the room. When it was just you, Sirius and Snape left, he held a hand out to each of you.

“Wands.” Reluctantly you and Sirius both placed your wands in his hands, not quite meeting his eye as you did so. “I want the equipment spotless.” With that he left the room. Despite feeling as bad as you did, you couldn’t help your heartbeat quickening at the thought of being alone with Sirius.

Avoiding his eye, you crossed the room to the cupboard full of cleaning supplies, dirty cauldrons being the only thing that stood in the way of you and the relative peace of your dorm. You felt his gaze on the back of your head.

“What?” You kept your focus on the cupboard, rummaging through the supplies to find what you needed.

“Are you ok?” After a moment, you turned to face him, throwing a sponge which he caught effortlessly, without breaking eye-contact.

“I’ve been better.” You didn’t elaborate, instead getting to work scrubbing the grime off the cauldron closest to you. Sirius abandoned his sponge, coming to stand on the opposite side of your table, watching your determined face as you tried to get one particularly tough spot of dragon-bogey off the side of the cauldron. He found himself admiring the way you furrowed your brows as you concentrated, the way your tongue poked out slightly from between your lips. Those lips. You, on the other hand, were thinking about how it would take double the time to clean if Sirius didn’t do his half. Subconsciously you squeezed your sponge tighter until your knuckles turned white.

“I bet I could make you feel better.” You huffed. Sure you had feelings for Sirius, but he could still be infuriating.

“I bet you could.”

His eyes twinkled, surprised that you’d joined in with his flirting. “Oh yeah, how’s that?” His hopes were soon shattered as you replied.

“By helping me clean so we can leave this bloody dungeon.” Sirius was taken aback. You never normally snapped at people, and he was just trying to be nice. Godric, he’d got himself a detention just so you wouldn’t be alone.

“You know what? Fine.” He stormed back over to his sponge and started cleaning the cauldron furthest away from you. The two of you scrubbed in silence for a while, making decent progress on the cauldrons, but you felt guilt creeping in at the way you’d treated him. The guilt, the tiredness, the worry about your dad, all of it swirled through your thoughts in a perpetual loop until you couldn’t help it anymore. You let out a small sob, trying your best to be quiet, but in the otherwise silent room Sirius heard it perfectly. He abandoned his cauldron, rushing over to embrace you in a hug, rubbing soothing circles on your back. He had no clue what to say, but the silence didn’t bother you. It gave you a chance to work through your feelings. 

After a while you pulled away, wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your robes. “Oh Merlin, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for darling.” He rested his hand on your arm for a moment, waiting to see if you wanted to say anything else. When you just smiled, he returned the smile, before going back to cleaning the cauldrons. This time the silence that filled the room was comfortable, both of you lost in thought. Finally, arms aching, the two of you finished your last cauldrons, and Sirius went to Snape’s office to collect your wands. You sat on the floor outside the classroom waiting for him, picking at a loose thread on your robe. When Sirius returned he handed you your wand, and slid down the wall so he was sitting next to you. You rested your head on his shoulder, whispering into the corridor.

“Thank you.” 

Sirius wrapped an arm round your shoulders. “What for?”

“I know you got that detention on purpose. Just- thank you for being there.”

“Not a problem darling.” His fingers traced tender circles on your shoulder, and you felt yourself melting in to him. Being so close to him you thought you’d be nervous, but instead you felt peaceful. Safe. 

Sirius broke the silence. “What’s going on?” It was almost a whisper, as though he wasn’t sure whether he should’ve asked, but he couldn’t bear the thought of you suffering on your own. He needed you to know that he was there to listen.

“It’s just- it’s a bit of everything, y’know? I’ve had a rough day and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with.” You laughed at how stupid that sounded, but Sirius took your hand, lacing your fingers through his.

“I’ve got some firewhisky in my room?” It came out as a question.

You turned so you were face-to-face.

“And the cuddles?”

“I’m sure I’ve got some of those to spare too.” He lifted your hand to his lips, placing a kiss on each knuckle in turn. You closed your eyes, savouring the sensation. Then he stood up, helping you off the floor after him, and your hands stayed connected the whole walk back to his common room.

End

A/N: I hope you liked it (regardless of the Snape/Sirius timeline error oopsies)! If you did feel free to give feedback or check out my other stuff, and also give Val (@masterofthedarkness) a follow if you haven’t already! <3

[1025cherrystreet]

New Home for the Holidays!

happy holidays! and merry christmas to whoever celebrates it!! <3

disclaimer: kinda scared ngl, this is my first piece of writing i’m putting on tumblr. i usually use wattpad (my username is the same it is here if you wanna follow me!), so i’m still learning how to do this lmao. hope you like it! any feedback is appreciated!!!

also... i didn’t really proofread this bc i got impatient and wanted to post it before christmas lol :)

warnings: none, just fluff ;)

gf!y/n spends christmas with harry and his family.

You hear the faint chime of the doorbell ringing from inside the house as you nervously pick at your fingers down at your side. Harry notices the small action, quickly taking your hand to intertwine with his, shooting you a small smile in hopes to calm your nerves.

And it does. For a moment. Until the door swings open and Anne appears on the other side. What finally does put your anxiety to rest is the big, warm hug she pulls you into, a splitting grin adorning her face. You chuckle in surprise (mostly at the fact she hugged you first and not her own son), but return the kind action, nonetheless.

"Oh my gosh! Y/N, my dear, you look gorgeous as always!" She says pulling back just enough to look at your face.

"Thank you! You're looking quite good yourself, Mrs. Twist." You return either a kind smile.

"Oh, none of that. I've told you before, call me Anne," She looks at you with a knowing and playful scowl, waving you off.

"Wow, hello to you too mum," Harry mutters from next to you, plastering a fake pout on his lips.

She softly scoffs, releasing her hold on you and moving to embrace her son.

"You look gorgeous too, Harry. Is that what you wanted to hear?" She jokes, the familiar smirk she holds reminds you of the one your boyfriend pulls so frequently.

When they release from their tight squeeze, Anne steps inside and holds the door open before speaking.

"Well... Don't want you two to freeze out there, come in! I was just fixing a cuppa,"

The warmth of her home heats your frozen fingertips as you enter and your glad to be out of the snow. You love the snow, but since growing up not experiencing it often where you lived makes it a little hard to bear in times like these. You couldn't remember many times you've had a white Christmas before (probably could count on one hand, if your honest), but you've always remembered them being the best ones.

You've always loved the holidays. You loved the cold weather and the time with family. You loved you're yearly family tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve night and taking a picture on the staircase in your childhood home the next morning. You loved making hot chocolate and watching you're family open the presents you got them.

You loved the holidays. But, what you love more than anything, is that this year you get to spend them with Harry.

You've been dating for two years now, but last Christmas, you spent it with your own family, as did he, because it was a bit too soon in y'all's relationship to make that step. However, this year Harry extended the invitation for you to join them and after talking with your parents (and your brother, albeit he didn't care one bit) you accepted the invite. Of course, not without making sure you wouldn't be imposing at all. And with Harry's reassuring words of, wouldn't have asked if we all didn't want you there, and besides, baby, it wouldn't be Christmas without all my loved ones, would it?, you started packing for London.

Harry shrugs off his coat as you both stand in the foyer and you follow suit as a voice shouts from the kitchen.

"Are they here?" A familiar sister calls out excitedly.

You and Harry enter the kitchen and he's immediately pulling Gemma into a bear hug. You look at the sight and smile fondly, noticing her boyfriend, Michal, behind them, but not before worrying for Gemma's breath support as Harry noticeably squeezes tighter.

They let go of each other and she playfully scowls at him, swatting his arm. To which Harry dramatically holds his arm, draining an, ow, that hurt!, receiving an eye roll from Gemma before Harry moves to greet Michal, and his stepdad, Robin.

"Hi, Y/N! It's so great to see you, feels like it's been ages," She greets you in turn, having enough of Harry's antics already. You return the greeting, along with the one to Michal and Robin, and before you know it, you're all deep into conversation.

Harry takes up spot right on your side like a leech. If you were being honest, it took you awhile to become accustomed and comfortable to how openly affectionate Harry is with you in front of his family and friends. At first, it was just small touches and light squeezes when the two of you would go out with Mitch and Sarah. The actions not bold enough for you to scold him, but just enough to make your cheeks turn pink. Not long after, the touches turned into sweet kisses to your cheek and draping a protective arm around you almost every time y'all went out. Which wasn't a problem until you realized how many stares your friends shot you when you started to get too comfortable in his warm embrace, most of the time opting to daze out in Harry's comfort than pay attention to conversation. So then, when the little affections turned into koala-esque cuddling into your side and planting heart-stopping kisses to your lips in front of Gemma and Anne this past summer, you decided to tell him to reign it back just a tad. It wasn't that you didn't like it! Quite the contrary, the sweet scent of his cologne that would flood your senses as he settled so close to you made your head fuzzy, and the pecks along your neck or on your hands or on your cheeks left you incapable of being present.

Of course, your loving boyfriend pouted a bit at the fact he claims, you don't want my kisses, but quickly got over it when you dropped to your knees before the boy to press kisses somewhere he couldn't complain about.

However, despite all of your protests to PDA, you can't help but relinquish your resolve as you melt into the couch with Harry between your legs, head resting on your tummy. The whole family (which includes you now!) is settled into their comfy spots in Anne's living room as Miracle on 34th Street plays on the TV, everyone having changed into their fuzziest Christmas pajamas. The realization when you saw Harry, Gem, and Anne had matching pajama bottoms made your heart grow tenfold and your eyes glaze over in complete fondness.

The smell of kettle corn popcorn (as Harry made it since he knows it's your favorite) and cinnamon candles fill the room. Anne and Robin are together on the couch perpendicular to yours against the wall opposite of you and Harry as the two of you are laid out taking up the whole space on y'all's blue sofa, while Gemma and Michal have cuddled up on the floor, sharing the big bean bag off to your left since they were the last ones to join the holiday movie marathon.

You love the dynamic of Harry's family. Much different than the chaotic mess of yours, and although you still love your family very much (despite their constant need to be obnoxiously loud for no reason whatsoever, fight over little things, and ignore each other on a daily basis), you admire how calm their presence is. You're family is just so... loud. And that's not necessarily a bad thing! The running joke of your family is that no one in it is capable of whispering...well, except you but you all blame it on the anxiety. But even so, your parents and brother have always argued. Over everything. Very rarely is it about something important, and seldom does it get out of control, but your family's way of showing affection is very...unique? Y'all aren't openly nice and polite all the time. As confusing as it might sound, y'all show your love in bickering. The love is more underlying than it is direct in show.

But that's why you can't get over how quiet this house is right now. Not one fight over someone breathing wrong has broke out and Harry and Gemma actually get along and enjoy each other's company. They're like... friends! The concept is crazy to you and you can't help but get just a tad bummed how your family doesn't just sit around all cuddled up, and how they'll get something for you while their up so you don't have to move from your comfy spot, or how Anne will just hug Harry out of nowhere. But the more you think about it, you realize that it's probably because Harry wasn't around much, always touring and traveling the world. He never got the time to playfully bicker with his family. So, as everyone is quiet in their comfort, you take it all in, happy that you're given the chance to experience their household dynamic.

Your fingers play with Harry's hair, running them through the long brown curls, still as wonderstruck at how soft his hair is as ever. Hearing him softly hum when you gently tug through a thicker curl.

"You're so effortlessly beautiful, ya know that?" You whisper to him, the sound of the movie, thankfully, covering you're affection from everyone else.

You can just spot the smitten little grin that grows on his face, and despite not having the angle to see, you just know his precious dimple is making a showcase right now...and that's enough to put a smile on your own face.

Instead of replying in words, he only turns his head to place a soft, melting kiss upon your thigh. Making heat surge through your entire body, in turn, making your heart warm at his love.

As y'all sit and watch the movie, you start to subconsciously braid your boyfriends hair. Starting by sectioning (albeit, a bit lazily) his hair into two big chunks, then separating three strands from the top of his head, you start braiding the pieces, adding a bit more hair as you go. He eventually caught on to what you were doing and you thought he was going to stop you, truthfully. But to your surprise, he only started rubbing gentle circles into your legs with his hands in a calming manner, causing you to release a content sigh.

When you get to the end, you tie off the finished braid with a hair tie from your wrist before moving to the other side of his sectioned head. It surprised you how long his braids are! They come down about a few inches below his chin, much longer than the only other time you had saw him in braids, which was when Lou did them right before he went on stage to perform. Now, your braiding skills aren't as refined as Lou's are, her skills making yours look rather sad, but you're having a blast doing it and that's all that matters. Not like he's going to go perform after this, right?

After securing the second braid in a hair tie, you lean forward and place a kiss to the top of Harry's head, causing him to tilt his head to look at you with a big smile on his pretty face.

Since you're sat up already and hovering over his face with him still in your lap, you press a quick, searing kiss to his lips, watching them curve into a splitting grin. You smile back at him, just admiring his features.

Despite being able to feel the loving stares from Gemma and Anne in the room, your focus is still on Harry.

“I love you,” He whispers, bringing a hand up to gently stroke your cheek.

“I love you too, bubs.” You return, because you do. You love him so much it hurts sometimes.

Looking at him now, surrounded by his family, you think you have never been so happy in your entire life. You’re so lucky to have him in your life, and you know he knows he’s lucky too.

But most of all, you’re so glad you decided to spend this Christmas with him.

[echodrops]

I’m obviously late to the tumble party... but I stumbled across your Notagami Essays posts and they are absolutely Fabulous! Love your writing and the amount of detail you go into :)

So I figured you may be a good person to ask - if you just had to guess (bc as far as I know it’s never been officially confirmed?) but if you had to take a guess or give a rough estimate, how old do you think Yato was when he first met Sakura? We know he’s estimated to be at least a thousand years old, we know he’s - from the start of the series to present - estimated to be somewhere between 18 and his early 20s (physically)... but I can’t find a single thing/discussion/post/stickynote/whatever where it talks about how old he might have been when he first met Sakura - let alone the emotional/psychological effects of Sakura coming into his life and introducing healthy mindset/morals/maternal-influence etc. etc. (obviously no mom and Father’s neglect played a big role in him not knowing how inappropriate it was for him to ‘accidentally touch’ and yell “boobs!” but you can also just say he was so young he didn’t know how inappropriate that was?) My point is: how old do you think Yato was (physically anyway) at the time of their meeting? and Do you know of any discussions or care to share your opinion on how being the no more than the age of blank affected his mental/emotional understanding of Sakura teaching him a new narrative?

Sorry this is a random out of the blue ask 😅😓 if I rambled on and you don’t feel like answering, I get it, just figured it was worth asking :)

I fell down a serious rabbit hole trying to see if I could figure out the answer to this question about Yato’s age but unfortunately I’m mostly coming up empty-handed.

The answer to this question actually depends on two different pieces of information which--as far as I can remember--we’ve never actually been given for certain.

1) We would need to know when Yato was actually born.

The manga has kind of hinted at a total (not physical) age for Yato in the flashbacks which showed him as a young child during the Heian era (putting him somewhere in the vicinity of a little over 1000 years old) and Father not making masks before ~1100 years ago, but the problem is we still don’t know how many years might have passed between this scene (the youngest we’ve ever seen Yato):

And the next flashback scene, where Yato meets Nora:

If gods age normally when they are children, these two scenes might be only a handful of years apart. But if gods don’t age normally, then these two scenes could be decades or centuries apart, which leads to the other missing piece of information (under the read more to save people’s dashes):

2) We would need to know the aging process for gods who are just born/reincarnate.

Up to this point in the manga, we’ve only seen two gods reincarnate--Ebisu (who reincarnated too recently to really help answer this question) and Takemikazuchi. The implication of Takemikazuchi’s backstory is that his shinki forced him to reincarnate and then hid his reincarnation from all of Heaven. The only way they could have kept other gods from noticing that Takemikazuchi had reincarnated would have been by not allowing him to go out at all until he had grown enough to match his previous reincarnation in appearance. This seems to suggest that gods probably do age normally when they are children--hiding Takemikazuchi away for ~20 years seems a lot more likely than being able to hide him away for centuries, after all... (I also feel like I have very vague recollection of some scene in the manga where someone comments on Takemikazuchi not having been around for a “few years,” but it’s been so long since I reread I can’t recall if this is a real moment from the manga or just me misremembering.) 

Overall, however, based on what we’ve seen in the manga, my guess would be that when they’re young, after just being born or being reincarnated, gods age pretty normally. This would suggest that, for the first few years at least, the physical and mental ages of reincarnated/newly born gods actually overlap; baby Ebisu acts like a little kid because he is, in fact, both mentally and physically a little kid.

That would mean that, for all intents and purposes, Yato’s physical and mental ages lined up when he was young and meeting Sakura, and he acted like a little kid because he really was just a little kid, god or not.

(Detour for a second though: 

This line always struck me as interesting in that it might, just might, give us a more specific timeframe for Yato’s “birth”: although the constellations, of course, are visible in the sky every single year, this particular combination of concepts (kanoto-tori, yin metal rooster) is known much more commonly as one of the sixty years on the cyclical Chinese calendar, also used in Japan. Counting back on the calendar, 961 A.D. was a yin metal rooster year and would align just about right for what we know about the timeframe in which Yato later met Sakura (~970ish). Just referencing constellations doesn’t mean Adachitoka was pointing to a specific year, but it might have been another hint as to the timeframe of the flashbacks.

Okay, detour over.)

Anyway, without 100% confirmation on either of those pieces of information--when Yato was born and whether gods age at the same rate as humans after reincarnating--I don’t think it’s really possible to pin down Yato’s “real” age (physically or mentally) at the time he met Sakura. We mostly just have to estimate. 

Personally, based on his size and behavior at the time, I’d put him somewhere between seven and maybe up to ten, but the way Adachitoka draws characters kind of makes it impossible to judge their ages by appearance; Yato is about the same size as Nora when he meets Sakura, implying that he and Nora were around the same physical “age” at that time; meanwhile, Nora is later portrayed as being roughly the same age as Yukine, suggesting she was maybe 12-13ish years old when she died. So, despite being drawn tiny, it’s possible Yato was meant to be anywhere from a little kiddo (6-7) to all the way up to Nora’s age by the time he met Sakura.

But all that said, I think what you were really asking about was more the mental state Yato would have been in when he met Sakura and how his young age would have impacted his ability to change his world views, right? The answer to that is... complicated and could be approached a lot of ways. Coming from a background of working with and educating social work students, there are several common psychological theories of child development that might apply here, for example. 

I’d recommend checking out Erik Erikson’s psychosocial stages of development, though. 

(Pulled from here.)

I don’t have time to explain the entire theory with the complexity it might deserve, but the basic idea is that, as children develop, they experience a series of crises or challenges that they must overcome. Successfully overcoming each challenge results in successful psychological and social development; failing to overcome a challenge in childhood will result in long-term negative impacts later in the child’s life. (There are plenty critiques of this theory too, so don’t take this as gospel or anything--just a theory worth thinking about!)  

Given Father’s lack of interest in teaching Yato basic concepts of humanity, I would put Yato at approximately the “Initiative vs. Guilt” stage when he met Sakura. At this level of Erikson’s theory, children struggle with asserting themselves and developing a healthy sense of how their personal desires might conflict with the expectations and rules set out by others. In this stage, giving a child positive feedback for their actions teaches the child that those actions are “right,” while giving negative feedback teaching the child that their actions are wrong. In order to overcome this particular challenge, children need to begin taking initiative and aligning their actions with social standards; the child acts, and the parental figure reacts--through this process, children learn “I can do X thing but I cannot do Y thing.” 

When you hear things like “Children are cruel,” most often what people are referring to is that it takes time for children to learn empathy and to experience guilt when they cause harm to others; children do not natively understand the repercussions of their actions. It’s only through a process of testing the boundaries, of receiving praise or punishment, that children define what is “right” versus “wrong,” and begin to feel bad when they do something deemed wrong.

And this is pretty much word-for-word what we see Sakura teaching Yato.

If they have healthy role models and caretakers during this phase, children develop successfully. Successful children in this phase get their first taste of personal responsibility; unsuccessful children are (supposedly) plagued for years afterward by a sense of guilt and shame when their actions produce disapproval from everyone around them.

Yato... doesn’t exactly make it through this development stage unscathed, because he receives conflicting definitions of right and wrong from his Father an Sakura:

Which ultimately results in, years later, the Yato we know and love who still does his Father’s bidding to kill humans even though it fills him with a horrific sense of guilt:

Through his time with Sakura, I think it could also be argued that Yato moves into the next stage of Erikson’s theory as well, getting into the “Industry versus Inferiority” crises. 

Meeting Sakura brings out Yato’s true, deep down desire as a god: to help people. (I think it’s important to note that this isn’t something Sakura teaches him--it’s a quality Yato already possessed; it was explicitly Yato’s desire to please people that led to him murdering in his father’s name.)

Once he learns what makes people happy, Yato immediately pursues that with intense focus:

The primary goal of this phase of psychosocial development is to experience a sense of confidence in one’s actions. When children practice their skills, pursue areas where they are praised, and gain new skills and aptitudes through mentoring from healthy role models, they gain confidence in their ability to excel, to fit in with peers their age, and to create meaningful things. By encouraging Yato to pursue positive behaviors--playing peacefully with other children, appreciating natural beauty, and creating useful things like boots for the needy--Sakura moved Yato toward successfully completing this phase and developing a sense of confidence in his actions and his ability to achieve positive things in the world. 

Of course, Father cannot have that (because confident children with a sense of self-worth are much more difficult to abuse), so he puts an immediate end to Sakura’s influence over Yato in the most insidious way possible: although he clearly manipulated the situation to achieve Sakura’s death, out loud, he blames Yato, implying that Sakura’s death was all Yato’s fault, the results of Yato taking unwanted action “industry” and yet failing--creating a sense of “inferiority” instead.

This, of course, haunts Yato all the way to the present, as he--again and again and again--blames himself for things outside his control or failing to live up to expectations that no one in his situation (still being manipulated) could possibly hope to get “right.” 

Finally, you could say that Sakura’s presence is Yato’s life is ultimately what sows the seeds of the manga’s main plot up to this point, with Yato’s quest to create an entirely new identity for himself as a god of fortune instead of a god of calamity. Personally, I would say that Yato is currently still in this phase of development, still working out how to define himself and who he will ultimately become once he is finally free to decide on his own path in life. It was Sakura’s gentle influence--his desire to become the kind of god who could make her smile--that eventually sparked his conflict and finally led Yato to the brink of catastrophe. If he wishes to become the god Sakura told him he could be, he can no longer suffer his father to live.

So, long story longer, I think it can be argued that Yato meeting Sakura at such a young age is EXACTLY what made it possible for him to change, and exactly what has led to his crisis in identifying himself and redefining his sense of right and wrong. 

Uhhhh... I hope that answers your question!

[mrsparknamjoon]

01. the linchpin | reliability • kth

index | next

pairing: taehyung x reader word count: 1.900 genre: drama, light angst rating: pg-13 warnings: cursing au: ceo/office trope: enemies to friends to lovers tags: ceo!taehyung, office!au, best friend!yoongi, unresolved emotional tension, mutual pining, slow burn crosspost: ao3

summary: a predictable mistake in buying shares becomes the perfect opportunity for taehyung to show everybody in the company no one is above his rules. what he didn’t know was that his plan would backfire making him question what the real meaning of trust is

A/N: this story began as a drabble bc i love dramatic scenes, whether in movies, television or books. confrontation is always one of my favorite things about them so i decided to try to write one for the first time ever. clearly i still have a lot to learn but i hope you like it!

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Another meeting, another group of incompetent people that I can't believe I hired. Sitting at the end of a long wood table, I scrolled through my phone reading a few emails while all the shareholders took their positions. It was absurd that I had to call a meeting on Friday night because of a predictable and, quite frankly, stupid mistake but here we were.

“Mr. Kim, we're ready” my secretary said discreetly as she handed me a folder filled with documents.

“Thank you” I replied as I got up from the chair and started spreading the papers on the table in front of me.

“Good evening! First, I would like to thank you all for coming on such short notice. The reason for this emergency meeting is to talk about the purchase of a few Min Industries shares” I paused and gazed into the eyes of everyone present. Some of them were curious, tired, others frightened and one in particular very angry.

“I believe all of you realized that ever since it happened our company has started to fall into devaluation, thanks to someone’s stupid and hasty decision” I continued while looking at the documents before me. “I don't want an explanation about what happened or why it happened, just how we are going to solve it” I turned and faced my main suspect, “Today”

“Mr. Kim, if I may, I think I speak for everyone here when I say that there is nothing legally wrong with the purchase” said Lee Sung, one of our oldest and most efficient lawyers. Still, it was a matter of principle for me and everyone knew that.

“I understand, Mr. Lee, but this is not what I'm worried about” I began calmly walking around the table while elaborating my thoughts, “You see... although Min Industries doesn’t compete directly with us they have affiliates who do. Therefore…”

“Therefore it’s smart to buy the shares precisely because it gives us more control over the affiliates” said Y/N, interrupting me.

I couldn't help the smirking that escaped my lips. Y/N took the bait and it was all I needed. From the beginning, I knew she was the one leading the expansion project and everything was going well until she put my credibility with Min Yoon Gi in check.

Yoon Gi and I are old friends, practically brothers, but our families have a particular rivalry that has lasted for almost 50 years. It is nothing that explicit or dramatic. An outsider wouldn't see the animosity, for example. I see it as a truce, however, it's still a delicate matter for our parents and grandparents. When we both took over the businesses, we agreed that we would not repeat their mistakes and promised to interfere as little as possible in each other's company. If it was strictly necessary, we would have to talk before any steps were taken. That was the deal and that is why I was furious at Y/N's audacity to make a decision like this one. She was aware of our family's situation even if not exactly about what I had promised my friend.

“Are you serious, miss Y/LN?”

“Why would I be kidding?” she replied looking confused, twisting the pen between her fingers like she was bored.

“I have no idea, but to call that a smart decision, one that immediately impacts my company's profit, not to mention my personal reputation, seems like a joke. And a bad one to say the least” I said, staring at her intensely as I approached her chair.

The atmosphere got heavy and I couldn't care less. I was right and everyone knew it. Y/N took a risk, as she is paid to do, but the risk was not worth it and she needed to take responsibility for it. If it was anyone else I would have already fired without even calling a meeting. Luckily, she's a key part of the company and one of the shareholders as well so I decided to scold her in front of others to send a subtle warning that nothing goes unnoticed by me and that measures will always be taken, regardless of the level of the hierarchy. This is my way to send a warning because I don't do threats.

Y/N gulped and shifted in her chair, visibly uncomfortable with my proximity.

“So I'm going to ask you again, miss Y/N: are you serious?” I crossed my arms and tilted my head to the side, watching her try very hard not to lose her composure. I had known Y/N for a long time and she always managed to be as cold as me, yet on occasions where her professionalism was questioned her replies used to be impulsive.

“Mr. Kim, I'll be frank” she started, standing up and walking towards the pulpit next to the projection screen. “It was indeed a risk on my part to put Vante Enterprises ahead of such a high-profile acquisition and, for the embarrassment caused, I sincerely apologize”

“Why do I feel like there's a 'but' coming?” I asked, sitting on the chair that she left vacant.

“But"

“See?” I turned to Seo Nu sitting on my left. He laughed politely because I laughed first. Deep down he didn't think it was funny and just wanted to suck up to me. Clever.

“But I still believe that in the long run, we’ll reap great results… excellent results, in fact! Here's a chart” Y/N pointed at the screen in front of us and began to confidently defend her decision, clearly and calmly, completely different from the Y/N of a minute ago who I thought would lose her temper.

* * * * * * *

The meeting room broke out in applause as soon as Y/N finished presenting a chain of detailed information regarding the shares, and although I was surprised by the level of research she prepared, I was unable to hide my dissatisfaction as CEO by confirming that Y/N still didn't understand the problem.

“Could you guys excuse us?” I looked at Y/N and then at the other shareholders. Since the person responsible presented herself there was no need to keep putting on a show, right? I got up, buttoned my jacket, and returned to my original spot on the table to organize the papers I had left lying there.

While arranging them all in a pile, the room emptied and Y/N approached.

“You love to exaggerate things, don't you?” she snarled looking me up and down.

“You love to ignore the rules and interfere with what doesn't concern you, don't you?” I fired back mimicking her attitude.

Y/N stopped for a moment and studied my expression. For a split second, I could feel a question in the air as if she wanted to know if that's what I actually thought of her — a nosy and unprofessional person who ignored her superiors on purpose. I didn’t. She looked hurt. Still, her voice gave no indication that my response had affected her.

“I love my work! It's great and you pay me well” she said, taking the papers from my hand. “Oh, what do we have here?”

“Don't be childish, give me the papers Y/N” I motioned my hands and closed my eyes feeling exhausted.

“What are these projections? How come I have never seen them before?” Y/N's voice came out louder than before depicting a mixture of shock and disbelief. “There is no actual proof that these companies are connected, it doesn't make sense” she walked back to the pulpit, eyes glued to the documents to compare the numbers and references with the slides she had spent hours preparing.

“Y/N give me the papers, that information is above you” I demanded in a firm tone. “Besides, my intention with today's meeting was to get you to find a solution to your own mess but even that you weren't able to”

“How can I solve it if I don't have all the information, Tae Hyung?” Y/N lowered the papers she was gripping so tightly in front of her face and I could see red, teary eyes along with the angry tone in her voice. She hadn't called me Tae Hyung since college and that felt like a blow in my stomach.

“If I had known that the companies were connected I would have thought twice before buying the shares... I…” Y/N's voice failed but she cleared her throat and continued “...this is your fault!”

“Mine?” I asked dumbfounded.

“You left me in the dark and I made an important decision without having all the information” she pushed the papers onto my chest and started pulling the projector's wires angrily, “This is not what I call trust”

“Seriously? Are we going to talk about trust? Bit ironic, don’t you think?” I started chasing her around the room while she collected her belongings and threw them into a big purse.

Y/N snorted like what I just said was absurd.

“You know very well the situation between my family and Yoon Gi's. I always made it clear that we don't do business with them and yet you went there and did it” I placed my hand on top of her purse, preventing her from continuing what she was doing. “Where is my trust in you now?” I questioned her almost in a pleading tone.

Y/N pulled the purse off the table in one swift motion and I almost lost my balance.

“You know what? You're right. I was wrong” she said, looking defeated. “I shouldn't have shown interest in shares that involved Yoon Gi's company, but you definitely shouldn't have hidden these documents from me either” she continued taking a few steps back, slowly moving away from me. “And that's where you fucked up. You're still obsessed with secrets and rules, keeping everyone who tries to help you away"

“Wait a minute” I interjected. This was unfair, it was not like that.

“I'm not done talking” she gazed at me very seriously and I had no choice but to stop and listen. “I know that we have differing opinions on many things and I have teased you too much in the past 10 years with my analysis and requirements, but I never... I say never... would do anything that would harm the company”

“I know” I whispered, feeling kind of dumb for blurting it all out like that.

“It doesn't look like it” she placed the purse on her shoulder. “For me, you're trying to find a reason to get me out of here”

My jaw dropped in shock. Y/N had no idea how much I valued her work, and at this very moment, I didn't know what to say first. An apology? An explanation? A plea? I could have said anything, but I didn't. Not even a fucking sound. My mouth remained open as my thoughts flew through my mind at a frightening speed, making it look like I was confirming her impression.

“I’m gonna save you the trouble. I quit”

Y/N gave me what looked like a small bow or maybe a quick nod as if to excuse herself and then left the room without another word, leaving me leaning against the table without understanding what had just happened, finding myself, for the first time in a long time, completely alone.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀

𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 ❤ 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗹𝘆 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻 𝗮𝘀𝗸! 𝗶 𝘄𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘆

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ revised version: 09.25.2021

[x-ia-n]

━ confession song.

➞ including: yuu nishinoya, gn!reader** **

overview: in which despite how confident he seems, yuu nishinoya hesitates in confessing to you.

word count: 1.1k

➼ haikyuu masterlist

↳ main masterlist

↦ fluff bc i can’t bring you angst on christmas eve, unrequited crushes but not quite, [you are] is an alternate version

‧͙⁺˚･༓☾　　☽༓･˚⁺‧͙

‘stupid tanaka,’ yuu thinks, getting him into this mess. how was he supposed to confess to you, anyway? he was just a libero in their volleyball team, and openly obsessed over one (1) girl before he met you. his desk at home is littered with drafts of love letters he’s written to you; a drawer is filled with completed ones, he just can’t choose which one to give you. ryuunosuke suggested that he bakes you a cake because ‘who doesn’t like cake?’ and like two peas in a pod, sharing one collective brain cell, he agreed. 

that brings us to the present, as yuu desperately looks for the ingredients listed on a small piece of paper. he could always go to coach ukai’s shop, but he wants that as a last resort. it’s christmas eve, and he sure as hell is running out of time if he wants to give the homemade cake for you and your family on christmas.

as he looked through the supermarket aisle, he’s rehearsing what he should say to you. he’s tried to confess once or… three times before, all of which either got interrupted or turned out badly. the libero remembers when he tried to confess to you but yamaguchi accidentally hit you with a serve and caused you to get a nosebleed. ryuunosuke tried to calm him down before he went feral on his junior.

he paid for the ingredients with the money he saved up - which he had only for the sole purpose of confessing to you - and started heading home. he was mumbling under his breath, “hey, i really like you… no. i know this is probably out of nowhere but will you go on a date… no.” 

he was so focused on his words and didn’t realize that he wasn’t on the way home. yuu found himself standing in front of your doorstep. it isn’t his intention- oh god, what if you think he’s weird or something? how did he end up at your doorstep? as he turned on his heel to leave, the front door opened.

“yuu?” you asked, genuinely curious to see your classmate right outside your door. he froze mid-turn.

“what are you doing here? it’s the holidays.” 

he smiled sheepishly as he faced you. “i brought these,” he lifted the grocery bag. “and i thought, why not bake a cake with you.”

you beamed at him, inviting him inside. the boy started thanking all the deities he could think of for making him sound so smooth and suave. the libero took off his shoes before stepping inside. he let himself be guided into your quaint kitchen, and that is when panic settled in. he’s inside your house, alone, it seems - you briefly mentioned to him that your parents were shopping for christmas dinner - and you’re going to bake his confession cake together. oh my god, he’s actually going to confess to you. 

you both spent an hour making the batter, getting sidetracked when he smeared some of it on your face. a competitive glint shone in your eyes as you threw a handful of the leftover flour onto his hair, earning a yell from him. he isn’t mad, couldn’t even get himself to sound mad as your laugh rang like soft chimes of bells in his ears. you cleaned your face with a washcloth and passed another one to him, saying, “the flour will hopefully stick to the damp towel.”

yuu rubbed the damp cloth on his hair vigorously, trying to get the bits of flour off as you popped the cake batter into the oven. “hey, yuu-” you stopped, the words dying on your tongue as you see him with his hair down for the first time.

“yeah, y/n?” he asked, his eyes shining at you. you shake the thoughts from your head, “aren’t your parents going to worry?” 

the boy grinned and flashed you a thumbs up. “nope! i told them i’m at your house and they’re fine with it. they like you, so that’s not really a problem to them.”

internal panic ensues.

you’re panicking as you realized he talks about you, to his parents. his parents. the very people you want to impress because you undoubtedly have a massive crush on their son and he practically revealed to you that he talks about you. 

the libero, on the other hand, is dying inside. his soul left his body as his words sunk in. will you hate him for talking to his parents about you? do you find it weird? do you think he’s a creep? he hasn’t even come close to confessing and you might already reject him. did you even register what he said? he hopes not.

“noya…” you trailed off.

because of his nerves, he ended up bowing to you and stuttering as he shouted out, “i like you!”

a blush rapidly spread across his face in embarrassment, but you couldn’t see as he’s still bent forward. “yuu.”

he shut his eyes as soon as he straightened up and began to ramble. “i’m sorry! you probably didn’t expect this, and it may be out of the blue. hell, you might even think i like kiyoko, and i do- but not in that way! i,” he opened his eyes to see you standing so close to him, that he could see the faint traces of a blush on your cheeks. 

he bowed once more, “i like you, please accept my feelings!” 

“i like you too.” you say to him. yuu raised his head to look at you and felt his heart soar. “wait, you do?”

you rolled your eyes at him, and smirked. “i have been flirting with you for the past year. and i gave you chocolates on valentine’s day. i don’t even like valentine’s day.”

he moved closer to you and opened his arms. “can i?”

as soon as you nodded, yuu engulfed you into a tight hug, lifting you a good few inches off of the ground. the smell of his cologne - it smells different, he put on a new one, perhaps? - was intoxicating, but you couldn’t have it any other way. he set you down and pulled away for a bit, a goofy smile plastered on his lips. 

the faint ding of the oven timer sounded, and both of you were brought into reality. he carefully took out the cake in the oven, and that’s when it clicked. 

“you got ingredients for my favorite cake?” you asked, peeking from behind his shoulder.

“yeah, it’s supposed to be a confession cake!” cue you stopping once again. as much as he likes seeing these reactions from you, he was kinda disappointed how his confession didn’t go the way he planned it to. all is well though, as now he confessed to you, and you happen to feel the same.

the love letters in his drawer will make their appearance one day.

x-ia-n © 2020 | all content and its rights belong to me. do not modify or repost. general taglist: @mooniepotchi​​​ @hqnishi​​ | please fill out this form to be added to the taglist!

[localkatshelter]

Okame’s Underbelly - Explanation |5th|

(ShinsoxOC)

Katsumi’s POV (localvillageidiot#0870) and Shinso’s POV (hecker#8339)

Warning: Contains arguing, name-calling, smoking, swearing, slight misuse of quirk, and Denki and Mina supremacy

Preview (Katsumi’s POV):

| “Shinso,” I said, turning to him, “you like poetry too, right?” I said, giving him a small, inviting smile.

“No, not my thing.” he grumbled, not even turning to answer me directly.

I felt my eye twitch. I am trying. So hard. To be nice.

“Oh really? I got the feeling that you might since I think we met briefly at a poetry house once over the summer.” I said pleasantly, clenching my jaw in secret.

“Did we? Well, even if we did, I don’t think I’d remember you.” he said dismissively.

Okay, now you're just trying to piss me off. |

Unknown source for artwork. (Please let me know who’s it is if you know)

1st Chapter - Anticipation

(Katsumi's POV)

The smell of day old frying oil greeted me as I walked into Marley’s to meet up with Mina. She had asked me to grab a quick bite to eat with her before we went to a party that a friend of hers was having. She knew I would never turn down a good time nor would I ever turn down a Marley’s date. I scanned the room to find my favorite tuft of pink hair waving wildly at me. My smile morphed into shock when I saw an equally wild blonde waving at me as well. I hurried over to the table to greet them but when I arrived I saw Edgelord sitting with them as well. His head was stuck in a menu, apparently trying to seem indifferent about my arrival. I felt a strange mix of anger and anxiety rushing out of him, pushing me back towards the door. It irritated me but I decided to ignore it, focusing my attention on those who were happy to see me.

“Denki, hi! I didn’t think I’d see you so soon.”

“Fate must be bringing us together.” he avowed, comically suave.

I laughed. “It must be. Can’t say I mind though.”

I hugged Mina, who had gotten out of the booth when I walked over.

“Why didn’t you tell me you had friends coming too?” I asked.

“I thought you’d like the surprise!” she beamed.

“You know me, the more the merrier!” I said as we settled into our seats. I slid into the booth next to Edgelord, who still hadn’t said anything. I took off my leather jacket and tucked it into my backpack between my legs.

“Hey Shinso.” I said casually.

“Hey.” he replied gruffly.

Well this is going to be an awkward meal. He’s already on my nerves. I don’t get why he’s acting like this. I let him sleep on my couch and he can’t even muster up a decent hello? Is he trying to hurt my feelings? ... Just play nice Kat. He’s Mina’s old friend and Denki’s roommate. You can do this. Just pretend like he’s not being weird, or better yet, pretend like he’s not even there. Don’t let it get to you. I took a mental deep breath and smiled at the two across from me. The three of us chatted for a while about nothing in particular, just a little small talk about this and that. At some point, Mina mentioned something about a high school memory, which reminded me of how they all knew each other.

“Denki, you went to UA too, right? Your quirk must be really cool.” I said.

“Wanna see how it works?” He raised an eyebrow and smiled mischievously.

I looked over at Mina who smiled encouragingly at me, albeit a bit too eager for my liking.

“Uh, sure why not?”

“Give me your hand.”

I complied, placing my hand in his. He took it and flipped it so my palm was up. He dangled his fingers over my hand dramatically, like a magician about to say their magic words.

“Are you ready?”

I nodded, a bit intrigued. He placed a finger in the middle of my palm and activated his quirk, sending a small zap into my skin. A strange noise came out of my mouth when I felt the slight pain and surprise hit me. The noise sent Mina and Denki into a fit of laughter.

“What- what was that noise?” Mina choked out between giggles.

“Shut up, that hurt!”

“I- I’m sorry! It was just too tempting!” Denki wheezed.

I rubbed the slightly tender part of my palm and glared at them.

“Come on, I’ll make it up to you. Let me kiss it better.” He held out his hands to me.

I looked at him skeptically.

“I won't do it again, promise.”

I gave him my hand and he leaned down, placing an electrified kiss on the same spot as before.

“Ow!” I cried as I pulled my hand back.

Mina and Denki bursted out laughing once more, this time joined by a scoff from Shinso.

“How gullible can you be?” Shinso said under his breath.

I shot him a look but before I could say anything back, our food arrived.

We ate and the three of us continued to chat. Mina and Denki told me stories about their time at UA together. It was so cool to hear what the pro heroes that I was covering were like when they were students. I took some pretty good mental notes, not that I would ever use any of the personal information I gathered in any of my posts. That just felt like an invasion of privacy, but it did help me understand the dynamic I captured between certain heroes in my photographs. It always struck me odd how Dynamite and Deku looked when they fought together. Their relationship vexed me but pulled me in at the same time. The same applied to Dynamite and Red Riot. Hearing that one pair had been childhood friends and the other had become super close in their first year at UA shed some new light and perspective on the scenes that I had captured before.

Some of the stories were just outright hilarious too. Denki was an absolute riot and the way he and Mina played off of each other made my mission of ignoring Edgelord’s attitude super easy. He hadn’t said much of anything since our food had come to the table despite Mina and Denki trying to involve him in their storytelling. He just hummed or gave an unenthusiastic “yeah” whenever they asked him something. I didn’t need to use my quirk to feel the irritation and discomfort rolling off of him. If you don’t want to be here, then leave. I couldn’t help but feel like I was the reason he was so annoyed. I walked myself through my memories trying to figure out when exactly I ran over this kid’s cat. I really was nothing but nice. I practically saved his life, not that he knows that, but still! I bared those emotions for him! It took me forever to claw my way out of that depression hole. On top of that, I gave him a place to sleep it off and helped him move all of his shit up the stairs into his room. Why is he getting under my skin this much? Why do I even care? Everything about this is pissing me off.

“So Kat,” Denki said, interrupting my thoughts. “What do you like to do in your free time?”

“I like to take pictures and I write sometimes.” I said, covering my half full mouth.

“Well duh, you’re a photojournalism major. That doesn't count.”

“Umm,” I thought about my response as I swallowed. “Actually, I used to spend a lot of time at some hole-in-the-wall place near campus. I listened to people perform poetry and stuff like that. I went every Friday at one point to listen to a particular person. The stage name was Okame, but once they stopped performing I kind of lost interest” I checked my watch. “If Okame was still performing, I’d probably be getting ready to head over right about now.”

I felt Shinso tense up next to me. His anxiety was tugging at my quirk like toddlers aggressively tug on a parent’s sleeve. Wow, his anxiety just shot through the roof... You good kid? Maybe I should bring him into the conversation? Is that what this is about?

���Shinso,” I said, turning to him, “you like poetry too, right?” I said, giving him a small, inviting smile.

“No, not my thing.” he grumbled, not even turning to answer me directly.

I felt my eye twitch. I am trying. So hard. To be nice.

“Oh really? I got the feeling that you might since I think we met briefly at a poetry house once over the summer.” I said pleasantly, clenching my jaw in secret.

“Did we? Well, even if we did, I don’t think I’d remember you.” he said dismissively.

Okay, now you're just trying to piss me off.

“Oh yeah? Well I definitely remember you. You were outside. If memory serves, you were having a pretty rough go of it.” I turned to fully face him, shooting him a challenging glare.

I knew the irritation showed on my face, but I honestly didn’t care enough to hide my emotions anymore. He met my glare with his own. The message was clear, he wanted me to shut my mouth and drop it. But why should I? He just continued to stare me down, waiting for me to change the subject, but I had a few questions for him. Mina must have seen me ready to blow a gasket because she decided to jump in to defuse the situation.

“Well, what does it matter where you were or what you're into?” she chuckled nervously. “Kat, have you been writing anything interesting lately?”

“Or do you have any of your professional-grade photographs on your phone? I’d really love to see them! I’m sure they’re amazing!” Denki chimed in, following Mina’s lead.

“I’m gonna head out for a smoke.” Shinso said, looking at me to move.

I got up to let him out. I watched him walk out with his hands deep in his pockets. I was drilling holes into the back of his head and I knew he felt it because his frustration was overcoming his anxiety as he reached the door, but I wasn’t done with him yet.

“I’m actually going to take a step out too.”

Mina gave me a look that said Girl what? You don’t smoke. But I ignored it and followed after Shinso.

(Shinso's POV)

God must be playing some cruel joke on me, either that, or I was a shittier boyfriend than I originally thought and this was my sweet karma. I just can't seem to escape that night. I managed to stifle the buzz in my head for the most part but it keeps manifesting itself, or rather infesting, my present. Time for some more shitty coping. I pulled out the pack of cigarettes from my jacket and pulled one out. It was a bit mangled but it was my second to last one. (I imagine his last cigarettes always end up this way bc he always smokes when his mood is erratic so he just manhandles tf out these ciggies)

"It's in poor condition but it'll have to do." I muttered under my breath.

I swiftly placed it between my lips and raised the lighter to it, but the flame was quickly extinguished. Shit, why does it always have to be so windy today? I hovered my other hand over the flame to block the harsh gusts, as I furrowed my brows in concentration. I was failing miserably to light my damn cigarette. I groaned in frustration before two small hands appeared around mine. My hands jerked back, startled, extinguishing the flame immediately. I looked down and realized it was the little brunette. I composed myself with a sigh and went back to trying to light my cigarette, choosing not to pay her any attention.

"Do you want help lighting your cigarette or not?" she questioned, irritated.

I looked down at her, a stubborn expression on her face. Pick your battles, Shinso. I reluctantly leaned down towards her.

“So...” she said after the cigarette was lit. “I mean this in the nicest, most polite way possible, but what the fuck is your problem?” she interrogated.

Her sudden abrasiveness caught me off guard. "Uh...what do you mean?" When did this become an interrogation all of a sudden?

“I mean, why do you treat me like I ran over your cat on your birthday?

Her absurd question also took me aback but I was quicker to adjust this time. "I don't even know who you are?” Why am I lying? Fuck it I already said it, let's go with it.

“Oh really? So that's why you act so out of pocket any time I bring up the night we met when I found you drunk and ugly crying-”

"Okay okay, fine. Just please stop bringing it up." I interrupted hastily. "Jesus fuck." I muttered under my breath. Why does she insist on bringing it up?

“So you do remember?” she asked with mock surprise. I just looked ahead of me hoping that she would run out of steam and drop it.

“Say it.” She demanded, her volume raising this time.

"Yes." I confirmed begrudgingly. Why the fuck does she have to be so loud? She's a pro at being annoying. "But I can't say it, because I genuinely don't remember your name." This was intended to be a slight jab but I was being honest. I probably could remember it if I wasn’t actively trying to forget it.

“Not like Denki and Mina haven’t said it a million times today. It’s Katsumi.”

"Ooooh right. Kat." My voice was just short of being completely monotone.

“Kat...so you do remember. Asshole.” She rolled her eyes. She has no problem insulting me. It kind of amused me but my aggravation overshadowed it.

I shrugged at her. What does it matter anyway? It's not like we're gonna be best friends. We can barely tolerate each other as it is.

“Listen Edgelord, I think you still owe me an explanation. I’ve been nothing but nice to you. So what gives?” she insisted.

"I don't know what you're talking about. This is how I always am." I technically wasn't lying. I tended to rub strangers the wrong way, either that or I was easily forgettable.

“So you're always a total douche?” she challenged, staring me right in my face.

"Funny. Guess so." I said carelessly with a hint of a smirk at her additional loving nickname for me. Wonder what else she'll call me?

“I know you’re not though. You turn sour as soon as I come around and it bothers me. So fess up. What’s your damage?” Her expression twisted into a scowl at the end of her sentence.

That last question irked me a little more than it should've. My damage?

"Hm I don't know, maybe you being a constant reminder of one of the worst days of my life." I stated with a tinge of bitterness at the end of my words.

This seemed to catch her off guard. She took a moment to configure a response. She was either being very careful with her next words or didn't know what to say at all.

“Oh, okay, yeah. That tracks... Well I’m sorry, but I really couldn’t just leave you there.” Her tone was slightly softer than before.

"I know." I admitted reluctantly. "That's what's so frustrating." I muttered, barely audible. What made her care so much about a complete mess of a stranger? Now we're attached by that occurence and it's so embarrassing.

“Frustrating? What’s so frustrating?” She caught part of it.

"Nothing. I just- I hate that you saw me like that. It's fucking weird. I like to deal with shit on my own."

“It’s really okay, Shinso. I didn’t think about it when I saw you. I was just happy to catch up, because we got along really well that night. It wasn't until you started avoiding me like the plague that I started thinking back to remember where things went wrong.”

"Yeah, I get that. But you're always bringing it up so casually like it's the weather or some shit."

“It was the only thing that got any sort of response out of you. What else did you want me to do? Besides, It didn’t make me think of you in any type of way.” she assured me.

"I just don't get why you care." I said more to myself than to her.

She seemed to genuinely consider this for a second.

“Me either, if I’m being honest. You’re so grouchy. I almost never put up with your type. But here we are.” She shrugged and dropped her arms to her side, comically defeated.

That sentiment actually drew a chuckle out of me. It didn't seem like the most appropriate response for the situation so I tried to stifle it as best as I could.

"Yup. Here we are." I confirmed.

“So we’re friends now.” she asserted, sure of it.

"Uh...I didn't say all that." She really is bold. She keeps catching me off guard.

“But I did.” she doubled down on it.

There was a brief stare down, her amber eyes were unwavering on mine. I guess it doesn't mean much. We're just gonna have to play nice when we're around each other from now on.

I shrugged. "Okay cool." I put the cigarette to my lips again only to discover it is nothing but a dying butt now. All that annoying back and forth made me forget about one of my last cigs. "Fuck, really, Kat?" I complained with a hint of playfulness at the very edge of my tone. I'm due for a pack on Sunday so I'll just have to hold out for a day or so. I pulled out the last one and lit effortlessly. Of course now it lights with no problem.

“Blame your own stubbornness. If you had just given me an answer the first time I asked, you could have smoked until your lungs gave out.” she retorted.

There was a moment of silence as I took my first drag. I could see her eyeing my cigarette, with disgust, if I had to guess.

“Gimme one of those.” She pointed to my pocket where the now empty pack was.

I shot a look down at her, my eyebrows raised. I chuckled in surprise. I didn't take her for a smoker with the way she talks about it. I guess she's one of those self-loathing nic addicts. Kinda same. I'm just not as loud about it.

"A little too late, this is the last one." I took another drag, staring mindlessly at the horizon in front of me.

“And?” she insisted as if that was a dumb response.

I gave her another weird look before it registered. Oh...okay.

"Fine." I gave her the cigarette I was smoking.

She grabbed the cigarette, maneuvering it awkwardly in her hand before settling it between her pointer and middle finger, the typical form. She brought it to her mouth and inhaled with a pained expression. She was barely a second in before she began coughing. Yup, she doesn’t actually smoke. Her sad attempt was endearing in an odd way. It was actually kind of cute. What am I thinking? She was intolerable a second ago. Stop that, brain. You’re being weird. Scolding myself inwardly distracted me from the fact that I was laughing at her outwardly. She rolled her eyes in response, annoyed at my amusement.

“Listen, people seem to smoke when they’re stressed and well, you stress me the fuck out so I thought I’d give it a try. Show me how to do it then, since you wanna scoff at me.” She handed the cigarette back to me before crossing her arms. I followed up her request with another chuckle, shaking my head at her.

“Are you sure you wanna be my friend? I’m already teaching you bad habits.” I teased, a smirk pulling at the corner of my lips. But I obliged and raised the cigarette to my lips obnoxiously slow and inhaled. I blew the smoke in her general direction and she swatted it away with a grimace.

“Tada…” I concluded sarcastically.

“Gross...you know what? Nevermind.”

We laughed in unison. It was followed up with a moment of quiet.

“Well, Edgelord, I’ll see you at the party. Try to smile a little when you’re there. It suits you way more than your resting bitch face.”

“I’m starting to think that you don’t remember my name either. Keep it fresh and switch it up once in a while. Try...I don’t know...buzzkill next, or something.” I criticized, a smile in my voice.

She tilted her head to the side as if to say “good idea”, before I put out my cigarette and headed inside with her.