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hnnyoongs · 4 years ago

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akai shuichi headcanons

shuichi wears a beanie all the time because he's self conscious about hir hairline .... and I mean who can blame him? id be too

shuichi saw gin when he was visiting Japan in the 10 years ago flashback and was like ooh long hair is cool AND it'll piss ka-san off flash forward 5 years later when shuichi infiltrates the BO and is like fUck cool long hair dude is a psycho

shuichi cut his hair off when he heard akemi was killed by gin he kinda went into the whole mental breakdown mode and was like fuck this shit because he started growing his hair out cuz of gin and also akemi really liked his long hair

shuichi used to be a band kid when he lived in England and wanted to pursue a career in music (much to the chagrin of Mary) but after tsutomu disappeared he was like fuck that and stopped playing until he entered the BO

shuichi has a really bad memory about things that dont have to do anything with his job kinda like BBC's Sherlock but not as bad

shuichi used to find dead bodies when he was a kid just like shinichi but it wasn't as often maybe like a dead body once a year or something

shuichi named himself dai because that's what Mary actually wanted to name him when she was giving birth she was screaming die die die and tsutomu wasn't there yet so she was like aight die sounds like the japanese name dai the only reason shuichi wasn't named that was that tsutomu burst in and was like FUCK NO

shuichi was picked on when training for the FBI since compared to 6 foot jock white men shuichi was a 5 foot 7 asian with long hair and dressed like a teenage girl who frequented Starbucks in the toxic environment of the FBI for anyone who doesnt fit the mold shuichi had it cut out for him

shuichi showed signs of multiple mental illnesses but they were all difficult to pin down so he was never diagnosed with anything since he refused to talk at the FBI mandated therapy sessions

shuichi's type is someone who is kind but could wield a gun

he used to dislike kids but being around them as okiya has made SOME kids special in his heart

before tsutomu's disspeareance he taught shuichi how to hunt with a shotgun

shuichi lived off of sports drinks and bars whenever he was single since he couldn't rely on take out due to it being unhealthy which wouldn't help his FBI styled life

shuichi taught akemi simple self defense techniques but refuses to teach her how to shoot a gun saying he didn't want her hands to get dirty

shuichi and shukichi blackmail each other for favors by using the "ill tell ka-san you did that one thing that you blamed dad for when we were kids if u dont help me out"

scotch once told him that bourbon's type was a white milf (in reference to Elena who was white and was a mother) so shuichi was scared as fuck when rei met Mary's adult self for the first time

shuichi hates being compared to his mother but the truth is they're the most similar and they both started mimicking tsutomu after his disappearance

the only thing shuichi knew how to cook before meeting yukiko was plain white rice as that was the only thing tsutomu was able to teach him

shuichi mimics an American accent while talking in America or talking in English unless he's talking to his family or he's mentally shook up and his British accent slips out

he thinks in British accented English as well (idc if the animanga shows him thinking in japanese it makes no sense that western raised people like Jodie and camel think in japanese) but he does use some japanese like ka-san and when he's trying to get deep into his okiya persona

he tries very hard to keep the polite speech patterns of okiya Subaru since as akai shuichi he's very .. rude

shuichi's sniper skills were so good the fbi was willing to overlook his disrespect of authority and his tendency to do everything by himself without consulting everyone

shuichi slips into a British accent around James if he's feeling really comfortable

he felt bad about using shiho since she was only a year older than masumi and she hadn't done anything wrong so he vowed to get her and akemi out of the BO

he had a plan to get akemi and shiho out by convincing the higher ups to grant them immunity if they testified but akemi's death derailed the entire thing

he hates to admit it but his family is the most important thing to him he may not contact them that often but he's going to such lengths to bring his father back because he cares for his family so much

shuichi didnt really know what he wanted to do with his life once he took down his father's pursuers but after akemi and scotch he decided that if he solved his father's disappearance first he'd hunt down the BO next tho once learning that Haneda Koji’s death had something to do with the BO he's back at the thing where he doesn't know what to do with his life without revenge

he promised shukichi that he'd be the one to solve shukichi's death if what happened to Haneda kohji also happens to shukichi

he isn't a fan of dates in amusement parks but if it makes his partner happy and smile he'll have fun

dating Jodie was a quiet thing most likely from an attachment maybe due to a bad case or a loss of a mutual friend depending on the agency they might have been legally allowed to date each other but it is usually looked down upon I dont think they went out together often probably spending time together at home ... doing stuff

he identifies as bisexual it was normal to him in childhood since both Mary and tsutomu talked about their past relationships to their children he never told anyone due to the fact it would affect his FBI status since it was illegal in America shukichi and Mary know he's bi but shuichi has no idea Mary knows

akemi and shuichi would take strolls in parks go shopping and go to cafes

he's very self conscious about his height and whenever he goes to Japan it makes him feel good about himself since he's relatively tall there

Mary was the one who drilled japanese into his head not tsutomu

the last time shuichi talked to Mary was when he called her up to tell her to take masumi and leave Japan for Britain after masumi cornered him and scotch him and Mary had a whole argument and after that they stopped talking to each other, not that they talked to each other much in the first place

shuichi learned jee kun do by watching training videos from vhs tapes/cds/YouTube depending on when you consider detco taking place I personally believe conan shrinks in 2018 meaning that tsutomu disappeared in 2001 and shuichi used a mixture of tapes and cds to learn

shuichi can read people really well but has a hard time manipulating people by being nice he can use people by being a jackass very well but trying to be a normal person is hard for him

Yukiko and yusaku remind shuichi of his parents before tsutomu disappeared but like more upbeat

shuichi dislikes full body hugs

akemi and shiho were both anime and romance drama fans so he knows random things about the shows and uses that info to connect with the DB and especially haibara

he considered himself British first and foremost but when asked about whether he considers himself white or asian he'll always go with asian

he started smoking soon after his father disappeared since his father used to smoke and he needed to cope but didn't wanna fall into drugs like cocaine

smoking is heavily looked down upon in America and is seen as unprofessional which helped shuichi go undercover a bunch due to him being a heavy smoker

akemi would make him stop smoking around her and shiho saying that second hand smoking was dangerous and that shuichi who was smoking constantly was going to get lung cancer but he would tell her that he just couldn't stop smoking he did stop smoking around shiho and akemi tho going outside to do it instead

as okiya it makes him go wild because he desperately needs to smoke to cope but okiya cant smoke it doesnt fit his image so he smokes a shit ton at night during his nightly drives

shuichi forced himself not to smoke during his time visiting Japan when he met masumi because he knew Mary would get even more upset with him

shuichi was terrible driving American styled cars and he got so upset that he perfected his drive-in techiuque over the years just to spite the instructor that said he was barely passing

he likes to go on late night drives and speed on the high way because he's a thrill seeking idiot

he has no social media but he created on as okiya Subaru to keep an eye on haibara's higo stan account

he takes offense to the idea that he's stalking haibara he's just p r o t e c t i n g her

he wants shiho to be happy more than anything so he's an avid coai shipper and is exhausted in Conan's obliviousness

shuichi didnt tell shukichi he wasn't actually dead shukichi just walked up to okiya Subaru one day and was like shuuichi-ni-san right? shuichi has long stopped questioning shukichi's weird ways of knowing shit he shouldn't know

shuichi is a sherlockian but he's not like shinichi or hakuba in that he does not hate BBC's Sherlock and actually enjoys it a bit

one upside to shuichi living in America is that he gets to hoard guns because he's obsessed with them he thinks they're really cool it's like conan with Sherlock he starts yapping his mouth of about them

bourbon once dangled a gun on in front of a sleeping shuichi cuz he didnt believe scotch when he said that rye was obsessed with guns and started saying incorrect shit about the type of gun he was holding and shuichi just shot up and started berating him

shuichi hates that chianti is a killer because she's the only person who's as much as a gun fanatic as he is

he tends to steal Jodie's car a lot

he likes fucking with peoples heads it's very fun to him to watch them get all worked up

shuichi hasn't mourned his father yet because he doesnt believe his father’s dead

deep down he blames his father for his mother going slightly bonkers

he didnt want masumi to be a detective at first but now hes proud of her

he drinks a lot as okiya Subaru since he cant smoke as much

he's willing to go to hell if it means he can rip gin from limp to limp

he really hates gin yall I dont think I can convey how much he hates gin

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treasureswordsgirl55 · 3 years ago

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Come Back

Character: James Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes / Fem!Reader (OC)

Inspired By (Song): Tu fotografía - Gloria Estefan

Warnings: Fluff. So much Angst. Insecurities. Post! Snap. Post!Avengers Endgame. Pre TFATWS.

Author’s Note: Hello. Hello. Hello. I hope everyone’s ok.

This fic is a second part of “Dust”. When I wrote Dust, automatically thought on a second part, and maybe It would be so so long posted in one post.

(If you don’t know, I write in the night) so… This is the final part of this fic. As always say, it’s a pleasure write with Bucky and maybe, just maybe, write a novel with him just to pull out of off my head.

Part 1 is here

He’s other of my movie’s crush with Poe Dameron. And Loki too. 🤦🏻‍♀️

Ps: The gif isn't mine. (I don't remember who is the creator)

Again, thanks u for the likes, comments and reblogs. Always made me smile to know that my stories makes you fun a little.

So I hope you like this one. XOXO 💋

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

I’m driving on the highway at a considerable speed trying to get to my destination quickly. The letter that Steve sent me through those FBI mens is on the passenger seat unopened but I know it contains something important.

His messages were always important.

I barely see out of the window that the great building of Avengers Headquarters appears in my vision, and I feel my heart race. Although I had never been there, something made me even more nervous.

I get out of the car quickly and before even crossing the doors of the building, I see that many people leave, some crying, others hugging others and some running quickly towards taxis that are stopped in the streets near it. The destinations were very different: Some went to the center, others that went to the different government offices and others directly to the airport.

What’s happening?

A police officer stops me and asks for my identification. The only thing I have with me is my little blue backpack and Steve’s letter in my hand.

I think about whether to show him the letter, but I open it and take out from inside it, a folded sheet of paper and a small card, as if it were a driver’s license, and I give it to the officer who steps away only when he sees it, indicating that I should enter through another of the doors that were empty. From a distance I can barely see the different sheets of paper stuck to the side of one of the doors where many people were reading and walking towards the taxis. The officer guides me until I enter through a door that could be for a giant and I sneak past what appear to be luxury cars totally covered by blue tarps.

- We were waiting for you, Miss Porter - The artificial voice makes me jump with fright and I turn towards the void, looking for the source where it comes from; but I can’t see a speaker, far from it, someone nearby - I’m sorry to scare you, my name is FRIDAY, I’m one of Mr. Stark’s technological assistants.

Stark. How long since I heard anything about that last name.

- It's nothing. You just took me by surprise - I deny as I walk through that empty corridor and I see through the tinted windows how people are hugging, as if they had not seen each other a long time ago - What am I doing here? Why don’t the others come in this way?

- I’m sorry it was like that. Let me ask you a question: Did you read Captain Rogers’ letter? It was his exclusive request that you enter through here.

- No … - I answer lost in my thoughts and squeeze the letter in my hands, as if it were some kind of stress reliever that I had learned to use over the years, while I pay attention to the couple that is a few meters from me , who seems to be eager to touch, as if they have not been together a long time - I’ll do it at home.

- You must do it now before entering the main room.

I suddenly look at the threshold where I see silhouettes of people walking quickly from one side to the other. My breath catches in my throat as I feel fear invade me. What am I afraid of? Steve is on the other side waiting for me to give me another bad news? Tell me that he was gone forever like that time five years ago?

- Let me assure you that the content of that letter will not make you suffer more than you have suffered in these five years, Miss Porter.

I look at the letter and curse while I mentally complain about the ease I have to express my emotions, even more so when the opinion comes, from what I suppose, it is an AI.

- And how do you know that? How do you know that I suffered?

- Because Captain Rogers specially asked me to remind you if you didn’t get to read it - I laugh as I remember the many calls during my last two weeks of school, and the times I preferred to press the end button in order not to listen to Steve ask me if I was okay when we were both fully aware that neither he or I were - I know it was very hard for both you, and Captain Rogers, the loss of Sergeant Barnes.

Hearing his last name was as if someone had hit the pit of my stomach and the air suddenly escaped, without giving me the possibility of recovering it.

I try to take a deep breath but barely manage to take in a small breath of air before I feel a tear fall down my cheek.

It hadn’t been long since the snap when I realized how much I missed Bucky.

- It was not necessary to remember something that I’m still trying to forget.

I mumble as I walk to the door and hear children’s laughter, whispers about whether they were okay or how long they were out - What is out there?

- You must see it by yourself, miss. Let me tell you something: Captain Rogers was very sorry that he couldn’t say goodbye to you as he would have liked, but he wants you to know that he appreciates you in ways you can’t imagine.

- Thanks FRIDAY. He went on a trip?

- To live his life, miss. And he hopes that he can give it back some of yours.

I frown at her words and feel a breeze of fresh air come through the door and as soon as I cross the threshold, I hear Friday say the words that nail me to the place.

- Sergeant Barnes is waiting for you. He will be eager to see you again.

Bucky? Was this a joke? I try to open the note quickly but my fingers seem not to want to collaborate between the tremors and the nerves. How likely was the AI to be wrong?

None.

As soon as I open the note I see some scribbles that I understand as the date, which is from a few days ago, and I read it quickly looking for those words that tell me that what FRIDAY said is true.

“I’m sorry I can’t say goodbye to you, Emma. I wish I could tell you this in person, but the circumstances of my trip make it impossible. What I can tell you is that I’ll be fine and that I’m coming home. It was a pleasure. meet you and I want you to do me a favor: Take care of him. He always looked after me, now it’s time for someone to take care of him. That idiot won the lottery with you, Emma. And you must make him notice it every day of his life. This is my gift to you, I know I couldn’t promise anything five years ago, but we did it, we won and James is here for you. I hope that’s enough. ”

I put my hands to my mouth, suppressing a sob, without finishing reading the letter and when I start looking for it with my eyes among so many people. Suddenly reality hits me: The people who were here, running, hugging, crying were those who had disappeared with the snap.

My God … He was here.

I walk towards one of the men who is dressed in red, with the Médecins Sans Frontières insignia and the words are stuck in my throat.

- Are you looking for someone special? Could you give me the details?

- Barnes. He’s here … Or so they told me - I keep looking with my eyes but I can’t make out anyone I usually know. There was no sign of either Natasha or Sam - Sam Wilson? He’s his partner.

The man looks at me as if horns have come out of my head and he approaches another young woman in black, who sees me and only nods to him. I show her the credential without waiting for an answer and she simply indicates the door that is a few meters from us.

- Porter, right? - I nod as if he were a robot and indicates the door to me again - Main hall. Gate 6.

- Thank you - I run while avoiding people, children who run into the arms of their parents and push others, but no one complains. As soon as I get to the door and let people in, I see Sam in the distance that he’s talking to someone I can’t recognize. Something inside me ignites and I feel my heart beating again. I can handle the urge to cry as much as I can but I can’t, as I feel the heat invade my cheeks.

He diverts attention from who’s talking to him, he sees me and starts laughing. That complicit and funny laugh that I haven’t seen in someone for a long time. Everything had become so sad that it seemed to be in a black and white movie. I can barely get Bucky’s name off my lips when Sam nods in my direction and slaps the arm of the man in front of him. He shakes his head, visibly annoyed, but Sam indicates where I am, making the stranger turn around.

I hold back a sigh as soon as I see him turn and look in Sam’s direction but he doesn’t seem to see me. People who cross between the two prevent it. His long hair was gone and a new haircut made him look more confident. Even more attractive. His eyes were still sad but in a way that I couldn’t quite interpret.

Good God, the need to touch him was such that it seemed to me that I was in a dream and that none of it was real.

I try to scream his name through the murmur but nothing comes out of my mouth and when I try again, the tears prevent me from speaking.

I walk quickly, closing the distance between us, but before I even reach the middle, fear takes hold of me again.

What if he doesn’t remember me in the same way that I remember him?

I see Sam roll his eyes as he grabs his shoulders, turns him around, and points him right in my direction: once our gazes meet, I can’t hold back the tears.

The only answer I get is a smile.

We both rush towards each other and I hardly feel the air getting heavy, I wrap my arms around him, as if he might disappear at any moment.

- You’re here. You don’t know how much I cried for you - I hear his laugh while I feel his lips leave kisses on my hair, as his hands try to touch any part of me that is within reach and as soon as he takes me by the arms he pulls me away, observing me from above down - I thought you were just another illusion in my head.

- Is it really you, Emma? - He hugged me again and I hear Sam mutter as he passed something about how “cheesy” we looked - You look different.

-You were gone for a long time, James - he murmured against his chest while I enjoy the heat that his body gives off as well as the accelerated beats of his heart that are coupled with mine - When Steve told me that you had gone …

- Shh … don’t remember. I’m here, doll. I will never leave again.

He pulls away just to look at me for a few moments, I don’t know if he was looking for something or trying to remember something, but he just raised his hand to wipe the tears that were falling down my cheek.

- I have to catch you up on things here. - I try to get Steve’s letter out of my pocket but Bucky makes me look at him again.

- Before that….

The last thing my brain analyzes is the softness of his lips against mine. A gentle pressure and I feel like the floor disappears under me. I try to get up on tiptoe to get up to him and run my hands on his shoulders trying to bring him closer, but all I can do is wrap his arms around me and get even closer to him. I let my fingers play with his short hair and I love that feeling.

Hell, I missed his presence so much that it was hard for me to think about never having him around again.

He pulled me for air and I can tell his cheeks are just as red as mine - Bucky I …

-You don’t know how long I wanted to do that.

- For 6 years? - I joke as I approach again and take him by the hand.

- How old are you, Emma? The first time I met you, you were 25.

- I will turn 31 next week - I admit as he shakes his head and looks for someone with his eyes, when he does not find him, he lets out a growl - Who are you looking for?

- Sam. I’ll tell him we’re leaving - Answer my mental question and gently pull me towards one of the secluded rooms of the building where I hear murmurs from other people - I’ll catch up with you, doll.

I feel my cheeks heat up as I brake, causing Bucky to tense up - What do you mean?

- We will catch up on all aspects and I swear to you that you will hardly leave my department - I try to laugh but all I get is that a gasp escapes my lips causing me to give me a playful smile - In that aspect too, doll .

- Before you two go to do the things that are you going to do - I hear Sam’s voice in the distance and as soon as it enters our field of vision, I see him snorting - You know you must be with Raynor on Monday at 9 o'clock. Truth?

- And you had to remind me now?

- Yes, because I know you will not answer my messages and she will be the one who will remind you when you want to forget about it. Your head depends on it, Buck.

- Do not call me that way.

- Come on old man, go enjoy your life and stop getting mad at the world. You’re back and with your girl, and will you still be upset because I call you like Steve did?

I shift my gaze from one to the other and Bucky just extends his hand to Sam, who shakes it without hesitation.

- Take care of yourself, Wilson.

- You too Barnes. If you need me, you know where to find me.

I pulled me away from Bucky as I walk to the door and I feel like some of the pain is gone even though I still can’t assimilate that that’s true.

- Let’s go, doll?

- Let’s go.

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cassianstattoo · 4 years ago

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HAPPY ACOSF RELEASE DAY!

(ACOSF SPOILERS AHEAD) ARE YOU EXCITED?

I personally am. It’s time for Nesta’s story (and not just hers) to be told. So, this leads to another thing I think (and hope) you’ve been waiting for.

LET’S EXPLAIN THE PLAYLIST! (Read every song’s meaning while or after reading the book) And thank you for all your love and support.

“Alone” by Melancholia: It describes the Cauldron scene at the beginning of the book. In this song you can feel the rage and how hard she’s struggling. This song is not about weakness. It’s about her strength.

“Impossible” by James Arthur: Chapter 1. Even if it’s not so clear in this chapter, I think this song represents how Cassian feels when Nesta’s around. He feels worthless and not so different from the other men she beds (as he thought in ACOFAS). He lost his hope of an happy future with the woman he loves and he feels like he’s breaking that last promise she made her. Everything just seems so impossible.

“Sister” by The Black Keys: Chapter 2. This just makes me think of Feyre and Nesta’s fight. It’s from Feyre’s pov.

“New House” by Toro y Moi: “I want a brand new house Something I can not buy, something I can afford I just want a long shower I been feeling so crowded” Chapter 3. It’s about Nesta settling down in the House of Wind. It’s not the place she feels she can call “home”. First of all, it’s not really hers. The last two sentences of this verse are about her breathing and trying to calm herself at the end of the chapter. She’s just tired.

“My Mother & I” by Lucy Dacus: Chapter 4. The whole song is about Nesta and the relationship with her mother when she was a child. I think there’s nothing else to say. Also, in the 1st Chapter it says that she’s born in spring, so the song talks about a girl who was born in May. It all fits.

“Teacher’s Pet” by Melanie Martinez”: “Teacher’s pet If I’m so special, why am I secret? Yeah, why the fuck is that? Do you regret The things we shared that I’ll never forget? Well, do you? Tell me that I know I’m young, but my mind is well beyond my years I knew this wouldn’t last, but fuck you, don’t you leave me here” Chapter 5 and 6. Nesta and Cassian’s first day of training together. She basically doesn’t want to act like she’s his pet and she’s got to do whatever he want just to respect her sister’s will.

“Dangerous Man” by Valley Of Wolves: “They say I’m a wanted man Holding line and break the fire I’m setting all the captives free But I’m hanging by a wire” Chapter 7. It’s about Eris and his double-cross. That’s how probably Cassian pictures Eris in his mind tbh.

“Control” by Halsey: Chapter 8. Nesta facing the stairs. It can be linked to other chapters too because if you take this song as a whole and not just a few verses, it really contains A LOT of things. For example, the line “The House was awake”. Also Chapter 9, when people start calling their children. You can find this moment in the song when it says “All the kids cried out ‘please stop, you’re scaring me”.

“Bookstore Girl” by Charlie Burg: Chapter 9. The bookstore girl is Gwyn and Nesta tries to know more about her.

“Wrong Direction” by Hailee Steinfeld: “I don’t hate you” Chapter 12. This song is about the chapter’s ending.

“You’ve Got a Friend In Me” by Cavetown: Chapter 13. Nesta and Gwyn’s interaction. Also, Nesta helping her.

“like that” by Bea Miller: Chapter 16. Nesta and Cassian’s tension is hilarious, but this song makes me thing about this scene so much.

“Queen” by Shawn Mendes: Chapter 17. Elain fighting with Nesta. This lyrics is so powerful. The first part is Elain talking to Nesta. The second part is Nesta talking to Elain.

“You’ll Follow Me Down” by Skunk Anansie: Chapter 17. Same scene. This is totally Nesta. She’s so scared of herself and of the world that surrounds her. She’s afraid to lose her sister in this world she still knows nothing about if not violence. She wants Elain by her side, even if it means dragging her down with her.

“Teeth” by 5 Seconds of Summer: Chapters 18/19. I like to call it “THE chapter”. Do you need me to explain why I chose this song? Um, I don’t think so. You know it.

“Only You” by Ellie Goulding: “Baby I’m on my knees” Chapter 22. He’s... returning the favor.

“Revolution” by Diplo, Faustix, Imanos, Kai: Chapter 24. Our girl Nesta knows what she’s doing. What she’s starting.

“Best Friend for Hire” by Anthony Amorim: Chapter 25. The whole song is about Nesta and Emerie’s interaction. Everytime I listen to it I can’t help but cry.

“Moment’s Silence (Common Tongue)” by Hozier: Chapter 26. Nesta’s worried about Cassian and gives him relief.

“Rise Up” by Andra Day: Chapters 27/28. These three girls are going to rise up, bitches.

“Nina Cried Power” by Hozier, Mavie Staples: Chapter 29. This song is really powerful, just like Nesta. She always is, but in this chapter we learn HOW MUCH.

“Fix Me Now” by Garbage: “Bring me back to life (fix me now) Kiss me blind” Chapter 31. THAT scene. HE HEATED UP THE WHOLE ROOM Y’ALL. Cassian literally kissed her back to life.

“Ready or Not” by Fugees: Chapters 34/35/36. I can’t choose only one quote from this song. But can you hear its vibes? Nesta’s leading a dead army. This is THE power.

“PILLOWTALK” by ZAYN: Chapter 37. *wink* This song says everything.

“Go Fuck Yourself” by Two Feet: Always chapter 37. I couldn’t choose just one song, you know. Also, lowkey Chapter 38.

“Never Again” by Breaking Benjamin: “Never again, never again Time will ot take the life from me” Chapter 38′s ending. All I can say is: NEVER AGAIN.

“Boy In The Bubble” by Alec Benjamin: Not linked to just one chapter. It makes me thing of Azriel a lot.

“Past Lives” by BØRNS: “I've got the strangest feeling This isn't our first time around Past lives couldn't ever come between us Some time the dreamers finally wake up Don't wake me I'm not dreaming“ Chapter 39. Gwyn and Azriel. Well, these lines are about them, but I think the rest of the song represents Elain and Azriel, too. I don’t know if you feel the same.

“Boulevard of Broken Dreams” by Green Day: THIS IS AZRIEL’S SONG. YOU CAN’T TELL ME OTHERWISE.

“Watch Me While I Bloom” by Hayley Williams: Chapter 41. Nesta teaching Cassian how to treat a woman. She’s got big dick energy ayeee

“R U Mine?” by Arctic Monkeys: Still chapter 41. Cassian taking control of the situation. This song just screams “dominant” lmao.

“Walls Could Talk” by Halsey: So Halsey once said “The House was awake” (Control). What if those Walls Could Talk? Like, poor thing. It could have a mental breakdown. This song is dedicated to the House of Wind ‘cause it needs respect. It’s alive. Just imagine how’d you feel watching non-stop those two fucking and fighting. Also Azriel, you’re loved.

“Despicable” by grandson: “If I were you I wouldn’t love me neither” Chapter 43. Tamlin deserves a song, too.

“Part Of Me” by Katy Perry: Chapters 45/46. It’s all SO chaotic. This song means a lot of things. They all lied to her, but this song is particularly about Nesta and Amren’s fight. In my opinion, she did the right think telling Feyre the truth ‘cause she deserved to know, but it just wasn’t the right time and space.

“Don’t Give Up On Me” by Andy Grammer: Chapter 47. Cassian’s going to take care of Nesta. She made a mistake but she knows here better than anyone. He won’t give up on her.

“There You Are” by ZAYN: Chapter 50. Cassian comforts Nesta when she finally explodes. He’s there for her with open arms.

“You Found Me” by The Fray: Still Chapter 50. This chapter was so hard to read and this is another song that can describe it best.

“Locked Out Of Heaven” by Bruno Mars: Chapter 51. Illyrian bat boys just love flat objects. I see.

“Thin White Lies” by 5 Seconds of Summer: Chapter 51. Yeah, still thinking about that desk.

“Chosen Family” by Rina Sawayama: Still Chapter 51. This song is wholly dedicated to Nesta’s new found family. Not only Gwyn and Emerie, but also Cassian.

“Library Magic” by The Head And The Heart: Chapter 52. Listen to this song and read the scene at the beginning of the chapter.

“Battle Cry” by Imagine Dragons: Chapter 54. I know it’s weird but I feel this song talks about Lanthys and Nesta’s fight.

“Hurt” by Christina Aguilera: Chapter 55. Nesta takes Cassian to the place she lived with her family in the mortal lands. It’s dirty and broken now but it’s still there. Nes talks about her father and realizes how much he’s done for her and her sisters.

“Story Of Another Us” by 5 Seconds of Summer: Chapter 56. I know this sounds like a sad song but to me it represents Gwyn’s present. The story of their past (of another “them”) and also their present.

“Drama Club” by Melanie Martinez: Chapter 57. Eris vibes, y’all. I know you can feel them. Everytime I listen to this song I can’t help but thinking of him. So the only thing I can tell you is: listen carefully.

“Genius” by Sia, Diplo, Labrinth: Chapter 57. Hear this song. It just makes me think of a ballroom where two people try to talk to other people and they’re avoiding to make eye contact. And they fail (yeah, those people are Cassian and Nesta btw)

“Therefore I Am” by Billie Eilish: Chapter 57. Still about Eris, but also Cassian. They can’t stand each other. So imagine the astronomical energy (inside of this bus lmfao) when Nesta comes in between.

“All About Us” by He Is We, Owl City: Chapter 57. Nessian dancing.

“Rock Bottom” by Hailee Steinfeld ft. DNCE: Chapter 58. This song is SO accurate. This is the moment I realized “That’s it. I think I can die happy now” and then I started crying. Nesta just thinking she’s not enough and she deserves to be with someone as ugly as she thinks she is. Cassian is like “shut the hell up, woman” and yeah. That’s the kind of energy and conversation I was waiting for.

“Stop Crying Your Heart Out” by Oasis: Chapter 58. Their life becomes brighter. They have to stop crying their heart out because of their fears and the emotions they keep trying to hide. They need to feel free and express all the love they can give to each other.

“Fade Into You” by Nashville Cast, Sam Palladio, Clare Bowen: Chapter 58. Finally the truth comes out and everything becomes real. Even if the song is pretty sad, the lyrics is just SO accurate and it describes the scene perfectly.

“I Miss You” by Adele: Chapter 59. Basically Nesta feeling needy ‘cause she doesn’t see Cassian for days, but it’s more than that. Pay attention to the depth of the song. It shakes you. And that’s what Nesta feels when she thinks of Nesta.

“Beautiful” by Christina Aguilera: Chapter 59/61. I want to dedicate it to my favorite girls in this book: Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn. They’ve been through a lot but they also learnt to face their fears. And they realized that unity is strength.

“Smile” by Uncle Kracker: Chapter 62. Cassian’s sooo happy to be with Nesta it breaks my heart. And his own too.

“Broken Pieces” by 5 Seconds of Summer: Chapter 62. Aaand here we go again. Cassian just wants Nesta to give him the chance to be happy with her.

“Carried Away” by H.E.R.: Chapter 62. Nesta thinks they got too carried away and now they’re at a point of no return. She opened herself to him too much. It’s not like she regrets this but she understands that now everything’s too real and changing. She doesn’t feel ready.

"What’s Up?” by 4 Non Blondes: Ending of Chapter 63. Okay, I’ll make you laugh but this is me after reading it. I needed to put a song about how I felt when I read this freaking ending, after all the devastation Chapter 62 brought into my heart. And the fact that Nesta’s 25 and the first line begins with “25 years”... I DIED. Also I think of her just screaming to the word “WHAT’S GOING ON?!”.

“Sisters Are Doin’ It For Themselves” by Eurythmics ft. Aretha Franklin: Chapters 64/65/66. DO I NEED TO DESCRIBE IT? NAH, I DON’T THINK SO. THESE GIRLS ARE POWERFUL, STRONG AND SMART AS HELL.

“Run The World (Girls)” by Beyoncé Chapters 67/68/69/70. The girls want to win and they’re going to conquer everything with no mercy.

“Puppets” by Depeche Mode: Chapter 71. Eris impotence t is heartbreaking.

“Warriors” by Imagine Dragons: This song is for every character. It’s about Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn, but also Cassian, Azriel and Eris. They’re fighting different battles and they’re doing it with every ounce of power they have.

“Emperor’s New Clothes” by Panic! At The Disco: Chapter 74. Nesta kicking Briallyn’s ass.

“Survivor” by Destiny’s Child: This song is dedicated to Emerie and Gwyn. They spent all their lives learning how to survive. At the end, they finally won.

“Set Fire to the Rain” by Adele: THE Nessian Anthem. I put this here ‘cause FINALLY they’re endgame. But something bad’s about to happen...

“Cancer” by My Chemical Romance: Chapter 76. This chapter’s been the hardest one to face. I had to put the book down for a minute and breathe. I know this song made you panic and ow you know why I chose it. I can’t stop crying thinking about Feyre in those conditions and all the IC and her sisters surrounding her. I’m still so heartbroken.

“You Saved Me” by Skunk Anansie: Chapter 77. Nesta cares about Feyre. She’s her little sister and she just can’t let her die like that. She gave her a happy ending even if Nes had to lose almost every ounce of power she had and learned to accept. But they’re worthless in comparison with her sisters life. She just loves them both. She’d do anything for them and this scene proves it.

“Lean on Me” by Bill Withers: This song is about friendship and sisterhood. Nesta’s relationship with Gwyn and Emerie, but also with Feyre and Elain (and lowkey Rhys). Also, I dedicate it to little Nyx, too. They all love you, babyboy, and would do anything for you. Welcome to this chaotic world, kid!

“Sorry” by Halsey: Chapter 78. These are not explicit apologies. Nesta doesn’t need to say “sorry” vocally. She already demonstrated it. Her actions speak louder than words and her sister know it. This song is not about a “romantic lover” but a “person who loves” and they all love too much and strongly.

“Amazing” by Aerosmith: WE FINALLY SEE THE LIGHT. This is the happy ending they deserve (but the cliffhanger is killing me tbh). It’s about everyone in this book. I put it in the playlist ‘cause at first I thought it could refer to Azriel and Cassian. But the more i listened to it, the more I realized it just describes every single character.

“The Reason” by Hoobastank↓

“this is me trying” by Taylor Swift: Both the songs refer to Chapter 80. Nesta visiting her father’s grave is one of the first steps to finally go on. The songs represent what she really wants to tell her father. He’s the reason to start over. And she’s trying. Even if she made mistakes she’s ready to fight for the happiness and love she denied herself years and now she knows she deserves it.

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fandomsonrequests · 4 years ago

Text

𝖆𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓..? [𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 12]

fandom: ATEEZ

characters: prince! park seonghwa

reader: fem! knight

word count: 4.5k+

summary: It was time for another Selection. No- not a Selection for a bride but rather a well-trained knight to keep Prince Seonghwa safe after a failed assassination attempt. You, a blacksmith’s daughter, manage to make it to the elite group of knights worthy and skilled enough to protect the crown prince after months and months of training. This alone catches Seonghwa’s eyes- in more ways than one

a/n: part 12! that’s a lot more than i usually write lmao sjsks but we have more seonghwa interactions! i hope you enjoy! this is unedited, so i apologize for spelling errors!

taglist: @iwanttohitmyself @minihongjoong @i-purrple-u @taetae123094 @jeonartemis @barcelona-sergei @theoinkypiglet @sparklychangbin @krystal-cole @mangotexts @tooweirdforyou @park-simphwa @seonghwaskitten

↞previous ♛ next↠

It’s been two weeks since the first round of elimination. Out of the fifty delegates that arrived, only half remained— ten females and the rest males.

The dining hall then was filled with goodbyes and some sobs as a guard came to collect the eliminated delegates. Fortunately, they were allowed to keep the uniforms provided for them to serve as a memoir for their time spent here. It seems like a form of mockery to others, a reminder of their failure, but it was better than heading home with nothing.

Seonghwa remembers watching from his spot in his room as the remaining delegates rush to bid their friends a farewell. They remained by the palace gates, waving and jumping goodbye. He felt a slight tug in his chest, a pang of pity if you will, at the sight. From his time spent observing the delegates, he noticed how some had developed seemingly tight knit friendships. It was heartbreaking to see them end there.

Now it was a new day. More lessons from the duke and the captain of the guards, this time being more rigorous than the last.

With a sigh, Seonghwa pulls away from looking out the window and goes about his morning routine: wash up, dress for the day, and have breakfast with his parents. By the time he was finished the delegates were already holed away in the library for their new set of lessons. The young prince on the other hand had some free time to spare before his lessons in diplomacy and kingdom relations.

He makes his way to the royal garden with another book in hand. He was probably on the fourth one of the series he was reading. The garden was situated at the back of the palace, stretching far and wide and housing the most elegant and colorful flowers one could ever see. He bows his head humbly whenever he passes by the gardeners, greeting them a good morning.

“Good morning, my prince,” Says one of the old gardeners. She was a rather frail looking and small framed woman. But anyone who knew her would say that she could walk and work for hours. And that one smile from her can brighten anyone’s day.

“Good morning, Auntie Florence.” Seonghwa greets, stopping in his tracks to kiss her cheek. He wasn’t related to her in any way but he frequented the garden so much, ever since he was child, that the old woman practically helped raise him. “The garden looks blooming today.”

“That’s because the rains have blessed them last week,” Florence croaks, flashing him one of her gummy smiles. “Ah, by the way Prince Seonghwa. Lady Ayeong is waiting for you in the gazebo, I believe she wants to talk to you.”

The young prince quirked a brow at this but thanked the gardener nonetheless. He makes his way over to the gazebo in the middle of the garden. It was built in the middle of a makeshift pond, its pointed roof painted white while columns of marble held it up. True to Florence’s word, there among the plush benches of the gazebo, awaited the young woman, her back to him. Her head was lowered, seemingly staring at something on her lap, as if she were deep in thought.

“Ayeong,” Seonghwa calls out to her gently. The duke’s daughter turned to him, a soft smile on her painted lips.

“Seonghwa, come sit.” She coaxes and pats the space towards her. “You don’t mind if we talk for a while do you?”

“Oh no, not at all.” He promptly heads over to the bench and sits beside her. Although, he maintained a rather respectable distance from her.

They were well past the first stages of awkwardness but a sliver of tension remains. Maybe it was the pressure of knowing that they’d one day be married to each other, maybe it was having to keep up a good impression. It felt kind of fake that they’d have to put up with this kind of demeanor around each other. Maybe they weren’t all that comfortable with each other just yet.

“Oh, I had no idea you were into romance novels, Seonghwa.” Ayeong speaks up when she notices the book in his hand.

The young man looked down at the novel and chuckled quite bashfully, a little embarrassed of being found out. “It’s probably ‘wimpy’ of me to be interested in such things, isn't it?”

“Not at all,” she responds genuinely with a shake of her head. “I think people are entitled to like whatever genre of novel without being ridiculed for it. It honestly doesn’t make sense to me as to why men can’t like romance... or that women can’t like philosophy.

“I find it very unnecessary times.. when they impose these standards on us because ‘it’s only fitting for people of our stature,’” She scoffs, tucking a strand of hair away from her cheek when a breeze flies by. “Hopefully that changes soon.”

Seonghwa knew, since they were young, that Ayeong was a strong willed young woman. She always stood up for what’s right and spoke up on behalf of the people that couldn’t. Most of the time, it garnered disappointed shakes of the head or disapproving whispers but it never deterred her. She was willing to make a point and fight to get it across.

“You’ve really never changed, have you?” Seonghwa asks with a small chuckle and a shake of his head.

The young woman lifts brow as she playfully hits the young prince’s shoulder. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

The two share a short but mirthful laugh before lapsing into silence once again. Only this time, it didn’t feel as awkward. Ayeong opened her mouth as if to say something but was interrupted as Hongjoong came jogging towards them. She pursued her lips together and quieted down. Hongjoong bows towards the pair before straightening up.

“I’m sorry Lady Ayeong but I’m going to have to take Prince Seonghwa away. Madame Olga is here for his lessons.” The shorter man said.

Seonghwa sighed but complied; his tutor always favored punctuality. “Thank you for the company, Ayeong.” He says and nodded his head at her.

“No, thank you. I’ll see around then.” She waved goodbye to him returning to her own thoughts again, deciding to refrain from telling him what she wanted to earlier.

As the young prince looked back at the duke’s daughter, he couldn’t help but wonder what she had wanted to say. It nagged at the back of his head during his lessons, making Madame Olga snap her fingers at him when she noticed that he wasn’t paying attention.

“Focus, Prince Seonghwa. You’re quite distracted today— is anything wrong?" The old tutor asks with folded arms.

“It’s nothing, Madame Olga.” The prince answers and returns his focus to the woman before him.

The day goes on as usual lessons in the morning, training in the afternoon. By the time lunch was over the delegates were back in the courtyard under the heat of the sun. The only difference this time is that you were dealing with actual swords.

You could feel your sweat drip down your cheek as you practically baked within the light chainmail you wore to protect yourself. You’d grimace whenever the sun’s rays reflected off of the swords, it’s glinting lights blinding you whenever it hit your eyes.

“Same rules apply but be cautious this time,” Byron instructs and stares pointedly at the troublemakers among you. “These swords may actually harm you. No simple bruises will come out of this but wounds and blood. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good. Now begin!”

You face Raviv, your usual partner in training, and point your sword at him. You didn’t worry too much about your grip and technique with the weapon but it was still nerve racking to finally use it against an actual person. The only time you’ve ever tried something like this was when your father let you hold a blade he was making and let you rain down hell on the poor tree behind your home.

You circle around your friend for a moment before lunging at him. The sound of metal against metal rang through the air and you struck again. Raviv has certainly improved on his technique and grew stronger. He could practically take you down in a few moves but you were quick enough on your feet.

“I see you’ve improved your joust, good sir!” You exclaim haughtily, swiping across him.

“Why thank you Madame,” Raviv replied just as mockingly. He grunts as he brings down two consecutive strikes against you. “And you’ve improved your speed. Why not run away from this battle instead?”

“And let you reclaim all the glory?” You let out an obnoxious, pompous laugh that caused your friend to snort in amusement. “Oh hohohoho, you’re quite ambitious. But I shall never relinquish my blade against yours!”

“Then prepare to taste the bitterness of loss, Madame! Hiyaah—“

Raviv lunged at you, thrusting his sword right at you. You exclaim in surprise and jump to the side, almost stumbling on your footing at that. You manage to miss the blade by a margin and glare playfully at him. You knew he was challenging you. He wouldn’t really put your life at risk like this unless he knew what you were capable of.

But before you could retaliate, Hae-seong walked in with a maid pitifully scrambling after him with a parasol to protect him from the sun. “Attention, ladies and gentlemen..!” He squawks, effectively halting your movements.

“I have an important announcement to make,” He continues. “I’m afraid training will be cut short today. You’re all required to freshen up and look presentable before the prince as he will be talking to each of you individually.”

This sparks conversation amongst all of you. The delegates all whispered to each other excitedly at the prospect of being able to personally meet the crown prince. You, on the other hand, we’re excited to finally get another chance to meet up with him again. Only this time, you didn’t have to sneak around the palace.

“Oh, _____, can you imagine? We’re gonna meet the prince.” Raviv says as he shakes your shoulders lightly.

Guilt gnawed at the back of your head; you haven’t exactly come clean to your friends that you’ve had a chance to meet him already. Twice in fact. Nevertheless, you were still happy. At least Seonghwa got a chance to personally meet your friends, even if you weren’t really the one to introduce them.

“I wonder what he’s gonna be like…” Raviv muses as he leans against you, putting most of his weight on you. He chuckles while you struggle to hold him up.

You push him off of you with a grunt. “Yeah.. I bet he’s great.”

“You may now freshen up. The prince is expecting you lot, soon.” Hae-seong drawls out before turning around on his heels and heading back inside.

“Well, you heard the duke,” Byron says with a warm smile. “Start getting ready.”

You all line up properly and return to your rooms. It was a nice change to be able to have more time to bathe and relax; you didn’t have to hurry up too much to avoid taking up too much of the others’ time.

Siyeon turns to you excitedly once you return to the room, her wet hair wrapped up in a towel. “______! This is so exciting and nerve-wracking at the same time. What do you think the prince would say? What’s he like? I hope I don’t bungle up things-”

“Wolfie, you’re gonna do great! Don’t worry too much.” You reassure your friend with a playful shove to her shoulder. “You’re a social being, I don’t think he’d have a negative view on you.”

“You speak like you know the prince,” She smirks at you as she unravels the towel from her head and brings her brush to her hair.

You knew she was just teasing you but it still made you nervous that maybe she had caught on. Nevertheless, you played it cool and rolled your eyes in amusement. You threw on your best clothes, a simple blouse and a pair of trousers Siyeon had gifted to you on your birthday.

After fixing your hair and drying it, you were practically ready to meet the prince. You looked around to the other girls to see if they were done getting ready. As your eyes scanned their neatly pressed dresses and colorful clothing, you couldn’t help but feel a little out of place. It was only then did you notice that the majority of the girls that had made it past elimination was from the city-towns.

You tried not to let this get to you, especially since a couple of those city girls warmed up to the rest of you. The others… not so much.

“I wonder what he’ll talk about.” You heard Adrianna, one of the girls from the Capitol, ask. “I bet he’ll ask about the political climate.”

“Maybe,” her friend, Ryuko, responded before glancing back over to you and Siyeon. A mischievous smirk adorns her lips as she brushes her hair over her shoulder. “I guess some people are lucky they’re literate enough to comprehend some things.. or at least seem like it,” She feigns innocence but her voice was loud enough for you to hear.

Her and her little group chuckled to themselves as if they’ve said the most clever thing in the universe. Irina, a girl from a mining town, scoffed at them, mumbling to herself in her town’s dialect. She glanced up, accidentally meeting your gaze, to which you awkwardly pulled away from. Irina simply chuckled at your action.

“Don’t worry I don’t bite,” She reassures you— her accent thick. “Unless you’re one of those girls.”

Now it was your turn to let out a laugh of your own. Sure those girls were nasty but you tried not to pay no mind to them. Just focus on yourself.

You were awkwardly waiting by the tables in the library, anxiously tapping your foot against the marbled floor. Off by the couches at the farthest window was the prince and one of the male delegates from Sinna, a city-town. Their voices weren’t heard from where you were but you could see from the way the delegate was animatedly moving their arms around that they were having a rather pleasant discussion.

You found it kind of ironic but no less amusing that you were supposed to meet the prince here. It was almost as if fate was foreshadowing your meeting with him.. or it got too excited and decided to speed things along so that you’d meet on that fateful night almost a month ago.

You decided to read as you waited, wanting to get your mind off of your nerves. (You didn’t even know why you were so nervous. It’s just like talking to a friend.) Luckily enough, Hae-seong allowed you without one of his offhanded insults. Maybe he was having a good day… You picked a book off the shelf, turning it over in your hand to read the title: The Iliad.

You return to the table, getting lost in the world of Odysseus that you had conjured up in your imagination. And for a while, your nerves disappeared. You immersed yourself in Odysseus’ different travels and adventures. You were practically so invested in the novel that you almost didn’t register your name being called. You jolted out of your trance when Siyeon poked your shoulder, glancing up to see the familiar pointed look Hae-seong threw at you.

“Miss _____, don’t make me repeat your name for the third time. It’s your turn to speak to the prince.” He huffs.

You scramble out of your seat and you heard a few chuckles and sneers of amusement from the other delegates. You absentmindedly bring the book along, your nerves suddenly returning and hitting you with full force. As you approach Seonghwa though, you couldn’t help but feel a little at ease when he flashes you his charming smile.

“Ah, so that’s why you’ve ignored me,” He teases as he motioned to the book. “I don’t blame you— its a great book.”

“Sorry about that, your highness.” You apologize sheepishly as you sat across him, setting the book into his hand when he held it out. “But yes, it really is a great book.”

“Well it suits you. The story, I mean.” He sets it down by the window sill and turns to look at you.

Seeing him up close in the light of day was much different than seeing him at night under the dim light of the moon. The sun’s rays glinted off of his luscious and well kept curls, reflecting back against the elegant crown that sat upon his head. You could finally appreciate his features, from his sharp nose, to his strong jaw, and all the way up to his bright eyes that held some sort of childish wonder to it.

He was absolutely ethereal.

“What do you mean by that?” You manage to say when you break from your trance.

“You’re somewhat like Odysseus. You’re both determined to get your end goal— and you’ll stop at nothing to do so,” He deduced and leaned against the couch’s backrest. “Or at least, that’s what your eyes say.”

“My eyes?”

“Yes, you’re eyes. You have this… this determined yet intimidating look in it whenever you’re faced with a challenge.”

You do..? You were so puzzled yet impressed on how he was able to detect that from you… and why he was able to do so. Did he look at you often whenever he observed the whole group during training? Or did you bring too much attention to yourself whenever Hae-seong scolds you for the upteenth time that day. Whatever the reason, you didn’t think that the prince, out of all people, would pay this much attention to you.

“Speaking of which, what is your end goal? You never really told me.”

A wave of nostalgia, and homesickness, washes over you. You release a sigh, shoulders sagging. You fish out the simple necklace that was left to you, untying it from your neck and holding it out to Seonghwa.

“This,” You point to it, dropping it in his waiting palm. “This is my end goal. You know how my father runs a smithy back in Trelark, right?” He nods and you continue. “Well, I promised him that one day, I’ll get him the life he deserves. Open another smithy and bring in more money so that he’d never work another day in his life again.

“But then this selection thing came up. It’s not exactly what I had planned, but it was something. A warmer home, a softer bed, better food to eat,” You listed off and stared out the window. The town looked nice at this time of day. “And maybe, a chance to heal. Not only physically but emotionally.”

The prince remains silent at your heartfelt confession. That explained a lot of things about you. Why you valued your relationship with people so much and why, despite the many times you’ve fallen, always pick yourself back up and strike back with even more vigor.

A fond smile graces his lips as he looks down at the necklace you handed over to him. His delicate fingers ran along the smooth edges of the marble pendant as if tracing the memories held within it. “You really love your family a lot, don’t you _____?”

“They’re all I have,” You mumble when he gives the necklace back over to you. “The whole world can turn around on its head for all I care. As long as I have them, it’s all that matters to me.”

Hearing that stirs something within Seonghwa- a warm but heavy feeling inside his chest. He knows he has a lot of duties as a prince to take care of his kingdom, to give most - if not all - of them a good and stable life. But hearing you say this really spurred a sense of urgency to do better and to find practical yet effective ways to alleviate his kingdom.

He rests a hand on your knee, pulling you out of your thoughts. “I believe in you, _____. Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this.”

“Why would I not trust you? I mean, I’m literally fighting so that I’d end up as the one protecting your life. If anything, you should be the one doubting me.” You chuckle, tucking a stray hair behind your ear.

“I suppose so,” He muses.

The two of you continued to talk till your time with him for the day was up. He told you about how pleased he was to finally be able to meet Siyeon and Raviv, since you’ve told him about them before. He even talked about his slow but steady progress in mending his relationship with Ayeong. You were glad that he was able to move past that awkward stage and was now talking to her like nothing ever happened between them. He was more open in talking about him this time; last time you were with him it was mostly you who did the talking. You never knew how complicated, and boring, the royal life was until he spilled it all to you. Your lives were so different from each other yet here you were— exchanging stories and learning from one another.

You learned that he had an older brother, who was now living in the kingdom where his father came from. He was married to the princess there and had twins- one boy and one girl. It was quite a bit endearing to see the prince gush over his niece and nephew. His eyes sparkled with love and whenever he gets excited, his hands move animatedly.

Before you knew it, your time with the prince was up. Hae-seong walked over to the two of you and cleared his throat. “Prince Seonghwa, your time with Miss _____ is up. I shall call on the next delegate.” Seonghwa nodded. “Thank you Duke Hae-seong. Let me just wrap up my conversation with _____.”

The nobleman nodded and turned on his heel to collect the next person. Before you could stand to bow towards the prince he reached out to you, making you pause in your actions. You look at him quizzically, quirking your brow up at him.

“I almost forgot to ask; would you and the rest of the delegates like it if you were given a break? Just a few days off to rest and recuperate. Maybe even go around Capitol; the first Autumn Light festival is coming up soon. Maybe you’d like to witness that.”

Your eyes brightened at this. You haven’t been able to appreciate the city when you arrived. Aside from that, you were barely able to write more than a few letters to send back home to your family. Heck- you didn’t even have the time to send those letters. So of course you didn’t pass up an opportunity like this.

You nod your head with a grin, excitement bubbling within you. “I can’t speak for all of them but I’m sure most of us would enjoy that.”

Seonghwa nods and releases you before bowing his head humbly. “Well then, until the next time we meet.”

You curtsey in response, a playful glint in your eyes. “I’ll look forward to it, your highness.”

He chuckled and watched as you walked away. It was only when the next delegate came in did he draw his attention away from you. There was truly something about you that had drawn you to him.

“He was so nice and charming,” Siyeon gushes as you brush her hair.

It was late at night and everyone was preparing for bed. Once again, the girls were huddled into little groups or off by themselves doing whatever fascinated them at the moment. Now the chatter was about their time with the prince instead of the usual recap of the day. It was a nice change of pace, you all needed slow days like this.

“And his teeth— he has such nice teeth. I want nice teeth,” She pouts and turns to look at you.

“But you do have nice teeth, Wolfie.” You tell her as you shake your head. You set down her brush by her bedside table and flopped onto your own bed. “Your teeth are so nice they’re practically blinding.”

Siyeon huffs out a partially sarcastic laugh before tossing one of her pillows at you. “Ahhh, I can't wait till we meet him again. It was so nice talking to him.” She sighs as she lay sprawled all over her mattress. “Okay enough about me. What did you two talk about?”

You throw the pillow back at her and hum in thought. “Not much. Same as you: how my day has been, what things are like back at home, all of that.”

You felt bad for not coming clean to your friend— especially since it was unfair. But you promised yourself that you’d tell her and Raviv one day. Now was just not the right timing. You push the thought to the back of your head and move to settle under the covers.

“That’s it?” She prodded, convinced that you were holding back something. “Come on, you can tell meeeee~ I doubt it was just mundane stuff when you two were talking so excitedly with one another. Was it the book you brought with you?”

Your heart pounded rapidly against your rib cage at her suggestion but soon calmed down when she brought up the book. Thank the gods she noticed that. “Fine fine, we did talk about the book. But that’s all.. well— wait he actually asked if we wanted to have a break and I said yes. So maybe we’ll have some rest.”

Siyeon’s eyes widened animatedly at that. A large grin adorned her beautiful face and she bolted upright from her bed. “Seriously?? We get to have a break? Can we go around Capitol? I want to see the whole place.”

You chuckle at her reaction, leaning against your arm. “I think we can, hopefully; that’s if Hae-seong doesn’t throw a fit at the idea.”

You two chuckle at the little jab you put against the duke. Mina soon comes in to tell you that it was time for bed and curfew has started. You found it a little childish for this part of the nightly routine but you suppose it was implemented in order to keep the castle quiet and orderly at night.

As you blow out your candle and settle into bed, allowing your exhaustion to finally lull you to sleep, you think about the next days to come. Especially your next meeting with the prince.

And in the opposite wing of the castle, as Seonghwa shuffled into bed, he was thinking of the same thing.

#ateez #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez smut #park seonghwa #seonghwa #park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x reader #prince seonghwa #prince!seonghwa #prince park seonghwa #royalty au #fantasy au #ateez royalty au #ateez fantasy au #regiis #fandomsonrequests

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caruliaa · 4 years ago

Text

ugh okay so like. ive wanted to talk abt this for a while but i didn't want to destroy my inbox yknow but at this point idc so like. theres, from my experience as a person of colour, a big issue of racism and white favorism in the cs fandom, especially intersecting w wlwphobia/lesbaphobia and sexism/bias against female characters and honestly im just really tired of it.

i think one of the biggest and most frustrating examples of this is how so much of this fandom treats carmen herself. so many of you shit on carmen for no reason saying that shes "boring" or whatever and it honestly drives me up the wall. Carmen is actually a really interesting character and has much more personality than the average vigilante type character (especially those that are white guys) and yet so many of you constantly talk abt her badly and its just really obvious thats its because your standards of what makes a character "interesting" are infinitely higher when that character is a (both sapphic and trans coded) woman of colour.

and this becomes even more obvious when you look at how much of this fandom obsesses over generic white male characters. the fact that so many of you act like characters like mime bomb and neal the eel that only appear in a couple episodes and aren't well developed at all because they're literally side character are so amazing and interesting and then act like carmen who is much more developed and interesting and literally THE MAIN FUCKING CHARACTER is boring and annoying and toss her aside is so annoying.

im not you can't like side characters or focus on vile more than other characters, im fine with the people in the fandom that focus on characters like countess cleo and dr bellum or jean paul and antonio more, the main issue the fact that people focus on white male characters like mime bomb, neal the eel, maelstrom, etc.

this also ties into the way so many non carulia shipper talk about carulia. like so many of you act like shippers and the ship itself are annoying for pretty much just existing and while its clear that a decent amount of that is due to wlwphobia its also clear that its also somewhat due to racism because carmen and julia are both women of colour. especially seeing as so many of you insist on shipping these two women of colour that objectively speaking have the most chemistry with each other with white men that they are both clearly romantically uninterested in instead. it all just feels really iffy and gross to me when you realise that.

there is also a bit of an issue with the way some carulia shippers characterise carmen as a flirty latina stereotype and julia as an innocent asain stereotype, but this is is a lot less common that those posts going around a while ago made it out to be. still i have noticed this mostly in a few fanfics on ao3 and the like so i will say that ppl need to try avoid those stereotypes (i think they're a lot more common among shippers on sites other than tumblr and discord, which is probably why i haven't seen them that often) (also julia being characterised as submissive and the like is a lot more common for when shes shipped with chase (a white man) imo so like :/)

also the fact that so many of you obsess over chase, a white man that repeatedly diminishes and talks down a woman of colour and has yet to apologise to her, is just really tiring, especially as so many of you ignore how rude hes been to julia. like i get if you want to have a male character to focus on but like shadowsan (outside of the context of that gross ship w zack u nasties) is literally right there. you have no reason to be obssesing over a white man thats repeatedly very rude and demeaning to a woman of colour lol.

im not saying that all of you are deliberately racist (though seriously white ppl you need to stop taking people pointing out racist things you do as a personal attack) but i am saying that some of you literally need to re-examine your biases with how you view the characters in the show because holy shit its tiring.

other ppl of colour feel free to add on to this, theres probably a couple things i missed. white ppl you can reblog but please for the love of fuck dont clown on this post

#flappy rambles #important #tw racism #carmen sandiego #carmen sandiego 2019 #netflix carmen sandiego #julia argent #chase devineaux #mime bomb #neal the eel

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paintingwithdarkness · 4 years ago

Note

"i run the night slot on campus radio and some jackass keeps calling in to insult my music taste and request high school musical songs instead” with BluePulse please!

“Good evening, Tigers! You’re listening to Houston U’s nightly segment. I’m your host, Jaime Reyes. Y’all just listened to ‘Today is the Day’ by Yo La Tengo. Next up we have ‘Seven Nation Army’ by The White Stripes.” Jaime pressed a button on the console in front of him, starting the next song before adding on to his commentary. “If anyone has any requests, don’t hesitate to call in!”

Jaime switched off his microphone and let the song play, flopping back in his chair. Running the night segment of the Houston University campus radio was a pretty chill gig. It paid him above minimum wage for every hour he worked, he only had to work six hour shifts, and it was only five days a week. Besides that, it was a solo job, and no one was there to tell him what to do. Obviously there had been some ground rules when he’d been hired— no cursing on air, and he had to take call-ins from students— but other than that, he had free rein of the radio frequency and he could play whatever music he wanted from 6 pm to Midnight, Monday through Friday. All he had to do was press buttons on a control console, sit back, relax, and occasionally answer the phone.

Speaking of which... Jaime checked the time. 10:28 pm. Great, that meant it was almost time.

With a groan, he raised a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose in exasperation, eyes squeezing shut. Every night for the past two weeks at exactly 10:30 pm, without fail, the same jackass student had been calling in to insult his music taste and request High School Musical songs instead. The first time it had happened, Jaime had been shocked at the audacity of the student, but had granted the song request anyway. (He had to. It was part of his contract. If a person called in with a song request, Jaime had to grant it. The only exception was if someone requested a song that was inappropriate to air. As long as it had clean/sensored language, and was free from overly explicit themes, Jaime queued up the song).

He mentally prepared himself. ‘Seven Nation Army’ was just about over, and Jaime already had his next song selected. If he timed things right, he could take the annoying student’s call during the next song, and wouldn’t have to subject himself to humiliation where everyone who was listening to his station could hear. It had only taken Jaime three nights to catch onto the trend.

As the guitar faded out, Jaime switched back on his microphone and addressed his audience, “That one’s a classic. ‘Seven Nation Army’ by The White Stripes. Hope y’all enjoyed that one. I’ve got a few more songs in store for y’all with the time we have left-”

The tell-tale ring of the phone interrupted him. Jaime had to bite his tongue to prevent the string of Spanish curses that wanted to fall from his lips from actually coming out. He had spent too long talking, and now he had to take the dreaded call on-air.

He took a deep breath, and had to layer on the enthusiasm thick as he ‘cheerily’ exclaimed, “It looks like we have our first caller of the night!” Jaime picked up the phone and gave the scripted greeting, “Hello, fellow Tiger! You’re on-air with Houston U’s nightly segment. Care to introduce yourself to all the listeners out there?”

Like all the nights previous when Jaime had asked this question, he got the same response. “Nah. I think I’ll stay anonymous. Keep things interesting. Though if you want a clue, I’ll tell you; I’m on the track team.”

Jaime scrambled for his notebook. That was the biggest clue he’d gotten yet about this mysterious student caller. It was almost like some kind of game. So far, every night when this student had called in, they’d said they wanted to remain anonymous, yet would give a clue about their identity. So far, Jaime had a bulleted list of eight items, with ‘track team’ being number nine. The other clues he’d received were ‘hates Indie Rock’ (which was Jaime’s favorite genre of music, thank you very much), ‘favorite movie is High School Musical 2’ (which was blatantly obvious, based on the songs this jackass student always requested), ‘favorite color is red’ (which told Jaime squat about who this kid was), ‘favorite food is chicken whizzes’ (once again, jack shit), ‘red hair’ (which was the first major clue Jaime had gotten), ‘green eyes’ (now it was obvious the kid wanted Jaime to figure out who he was), ‘5’9”’ (somewhat helpful), ‘Freshman’ (which eliminated 3/4 of the students on campus this caller could be), ‘mechanical engineering major’ (another somewhat helpful clue), and ‘gay’ (which, wow, Jaime would never out himself live on the air. This guy had some balls...).

After the mad scramble for a pencil, Jaime flipped the notebook open and single-handedly jotted down the new piece of information, balancing the phone against his ear with the other hand. When he was finished, he leaned back in the big leather chair, kicking his feet up against the edge of the desk in front of himself, feeling satisfied. Jaime knew he had enough information now to track down this annoying student and put an end to these stupid calls interrupting his radio show every night. Tonight would be the last time ‘We’re All in This Together’, ‘Bop to the Top’, or ‘Get Your Head in the Game’ would play during his segment, and Jaime was RELIEVED.

“Is that why you feel the need to call into my show every night?” Jaime fired back at the student. “So you can rope all of your track mates into singing ‘We’re All in This Together’ while you run in circles?”

An airy laugh was the response. And there a slight second where Jaime thought to himself, ‘Wow. That’s actually kinda cute,’ before his brain rebooted and he realized how counterintuitive that was. This guy was an annoyance that had to be dealt with. So what if he had an attractive laugh? It didn’t erase all of the other judgements Jaime had already formed of this student. And they were that this guy had terrible music taste and needed to find another hobby besides calling in every night to bug the shit out of Jaime.

“What better song to commemorate mutual suffering?” The other man laughed again.

Jaime scowled. ‘Mutual suffering’? Sure, Jaime knew the vexing student was talking about his track mates, but he couldn’t help catching the irony in the choice of words. As far as Jaime was concerned, the only one doing any suffering was him.

“So is that your request for tonight?” Jaime just wanted to get this over with already.

A contemplative “hmmm” made its way down the line, before being followed with, “Well, I was originally gonna ask for ‘Get Your Head in the Game’ but ‘All in this Together’ works nicely, too.”

“Por Díos,” Jaime mumbled under his breath. “¿No puede este idiota tomar una decisión?”

“Woah, hey, is that Spanish?!” Apparently Jaime’s mumblings hadn’t been quiet enough. “Yo hablo español!”

Jaime cringed. The pronounciation was terrible, but the enthusiasm was endearing. And dammit! He shouldn’t be thinking things like that. His train of thought was off the tracks again.

Without saying anything else, Jaime turned to his computer, quickly punched ‘We’re All in this Together’ into the song search bar, and hit play. He switched over the audio connection so that the only thing his audience could hear was the music, took a deep breath, and then made his rebuttal to the annoying student.

“You might want to work on that pronounciation, ese.”

The response was whiny. “Aww, it’s not that bad!”

Jaime cringed. “It’s not great, either.”

The student on the other line sighed. “Fine. But at least I have good taste in music!”

“That’s debatable.” Jaime didn’t know why he was dragging out the conversation. Usually after he granted this annoying caller’s request each night, the student rattled off a final jab at Jaime, before just hanging up. Why was he staying on the line tonight? Maybe Jaime just had to direct the conversation in that direction?

“My music is better than what you play every night. I’m doing you and your radio station a favor!” And yep, there it was.

“I don’t think people are tuning into my station to listen to the one High School Musical song you insist I play every night.”

Jaime could practically hear the smirk through the line when the other student responded. “Even if people are tuning in to listen to your crappy music, my song is still the highlight.”

Jaime groaned. He was growing weary of this conversation. “Do you listen to anything besides terrible High School Musical songs?”

That cute laugh caught in Jaime’s ears again. “Doi. A guy needs to have a little variety in his music. I’ve also got ‘Can’t Stop Singing’, ‘Turn Up the Music’, ‘Determinate’-”

Jaime’s eyes rolled skyward. “I’m gonna stop you there. Does your playlist contain any songs that aren’t from Disney Channel movies?”

A horrified gasp marked the beginning of the indignant response. “What’s wrong with Disney movies? High School Musical is the crashest movie series in existence.”

Jaime didn’t have enough time to think over the choice of the word ‘crashest’ before the other student continued rambling on.

“What other kind of music do you need?! Disney movies have great numbers, teach you about life and friendship, and growing up, and you gotta be kidding me if you don’t think Zac Efron is hot playing Troy.”

Jaime snorted a laugh for the last amendment to the other student’s statement. He’d only watched High School Musical once, and that was enough for him. And despite occasionally finding other men attractive (being bisexual himself), Zac Efron had never really done it for Jaime.

“I wouldn’t exactly call those ‘musical numbers’ as you put it, any type of masterpiece, however, I suppose you earn a pass for the friendship and growing up part.” Jaime smartly decided to skip the Zac Efron comment altogether, “I would say I’m more of a fan of the Disney animated movies. At least I can tolerate the Lion King and Aladdin sound tracks.”

A little puff of a chuckle, and then, “You should really get a better hobby than bashing on Disney movies.”

Jaime scoffed and immediately fired back, “You’re the one who calls me every night to bash on my music.”

“Oooh.” The other student made a hissing sound, as if a flame were being extinguished. “Caught red handed. But—” And here, Jaime could sense something dangerous was about to be said— “how about we settle this once and for all. You obviously don’t get out of the radio studio enough. What say you come to the next Houston U track meeting? We can settle this music debate once and for all.” Yep. That was a challenge.

Jaime took a few seconds to deliberate. He was curious to see who this mysterious caller was. Besides, what harm could it do? Jaime was not the type to back down when he was challenged. He had his pride and dignity. He would not be bested by this asshole. He was going to go to that track meeting.

“You’ve got yourself a deal, ese.” If the other student were there in person, Jaime could imagine shaking his hand to seal the contract.

“Alright,” the other student said, and if Jaime wasn’t mistaken, he sounded rather gleeful that Jaime had taken the bait, “I’ll see you there.” And then the line went dead.

Jaime ran a hand through his hair as he hung up the phone with the other. What had he gotten himself into?

The next Houston U track meeting was a week and two days since the fated phone call. Since that night, the mysterious student caller hadn’t rung Jaime’s radio station. It was a power move, and a good one at that. He had put the ball in Jaime’s court (or passed him the baton? That was a track thing, right?), meaning all responsibility was on him. In all honesty, Jaime was tempted to skip out on their ‘deal’. Sure, he’d agreed, but only because Jaime’d thought it was the key to get the student to stop calling. Now that the calls had stopped, Jaime saw no reason to get involved and draw attention back to himself. Maybe if he didn’t go, the annoying student would just leave him alone.

On the other hand, if he didn’t go, wouldn’t that just give the other student more incentive to start calling him again? Not only would Jaime continue to get bashed for his music taste, but then the other student would also be able to expose him as a liar. That was definitely NOT the reputation Jaime wanted to have. He had no choice. He HAD to go to that stupid track meeting.

It didn’t mean he didn’t drag his feet the whole way to the field though. Even with his ticket and getting there five minutes early, it was near impossible to find a seat. Jaime had no idea a sporting event like track would be so popular. What was so special about a bunch of guys running around in a circle?

It took a little shoving and some mumbled “sorry”s and “excuse me”s before Jaime was finally able to plunk down next to a young couple, in one of the only empty seats left. They seemed like nice enough people; the man even tried making small talk with him once Jaime sat down; but Jaime’s shy demeanor prevented the conversation from launching into something deeper.

Once the couple was no longer paying him much attention, Jaime surreptitiously slipped his little pocket notebook out of his jeans and flipped it open to the page where he had noted all of the little clues his mystery caller had given him.

Unfortunately, only some of them were usable in this context. Clues about the other student’s personality and preferences wouldn’t help Jaime identify anyone. Only the clues the track star had given Jaime about his physical appearance would be of use. He was looking for a redheaded, green-eyed, 5’9” Freshman. Should be simple enough.

When Jaime glanced down to where the runners were stretching by the starting blocks, he immediately noticed three boys with red hair. Luckily, this track meet was only a Houston U event and other schools weren’t participating. That meant one of the three was his mysterious caller.

From this distance, Jaime couldn’t judge eye color, and height was difficult to gage. He supposed he would have to wait for the announcers to give the names and grades of the competitors. Hopefully only one of the redheads would be a Freshman, and Jaime could find his culprit.

Within a few minutes, a runner was at the blocks for every lane. The first event was the 100m sprint. Everyone on the team would be participating. Only six could go at a time, and the announcer said that there would be three heats. Unfortunately for Jaime, the announcer didn’t bother with the names of the competitors since everyone was running, but he hoped that at least the winners would be announced, in case his redhead happened to be one of them.

In the first heat, two of the three red-haired boys were lined up at the blocks. Jaime trained his eyes on them. The first boy was in the second lane, and the other in the sixth lane. Hopefully one of the two would win so that Jaime could narrow down his suspects.

When the starting gun fired, all six runners took off like rockets. The pure speed was quite a shock for Jaime to witness. Within fifteen seconds, all six runners crossed the finish line.

“Winner!” The announcer shouted, once first place for the heat had been determined. He held up the arm of one of the redheads Jaime had been watching. “Senior Wally West with a time of 10.8 seconds!”

An elderly couple three seats over from where Jaime was sitting sprang out of their seats cheering. “Yeah, Wally!” shouted the man. His wife was enthusiastically clapping.

When they sat down again, the couple next to Jaime (conveniently sandwiched between him and the cheering couple) turned to face them.

“Wow!” the blond man next to Jaime exclaimed. “That’s his fastest time yet!”

The other blond man laughed (and it was then that Jaime noticed the striking resemblance). “He’s been working hard. Of course, he’s no match for Bart, but just maybe Wally might have a shot at beating him in the 3200m.”

The brunette woman of the younger couple hummed, a smirk resting on her lips. “I don’t know about that one. Our Bart’s got Thawne blood, too. He’s got runners from both sides. Wests... not so much.”

“Mel!” the man next to Jaime gasped, scandalized. “I thought we said no family rivalry at track meets?”

Immediately the brunette woman, Mel, appologized. “Sorry, sorry.”

“That’s right,” the man from the elderly couple interjected. “You have to remember Donny’s got some West blood himself. Iris was a West before she married me.” He slung an arm around the graying red-haired woman sitting beside him.

It was then that Jaime was able to piece it together. The young blond man— Donny— sitting next to him, was the son of the elderly couple— Iris and her husband (unfortunately Jaime didn’t have his name yet). The younger brunette woman— Mel— was Donny’s wife, and one of the runners— Bart— was their son, and the grandson of the elderly couple. Wally— the runner who had just won the first heat was a relative (?) of the two couples.

By the time Jaime was done puzzling out the relations, the next heat of runners was already at the starting blocks. Unfortunately, the other redhead, whom Jaime guessed was Bart, was not in this heat.

The starting gun fired, and the race was over within fifteen seconds again. The winner was announced, and the runners of the third heat took their places.

Jaime’s gaze zeroed in on the redhead in the first lane. That must be Bart. Mel and Donny were balanced on the edges of their seats next to Jaime.

As soon as the gun fired, Bart was nearly a quarter of the way down the lane. He was insanely fast. Jaime wouldn’t be surprised if he hit an Olympic time. His teammates stood no chance.

When he was announced the winner, Jaime had to do a double take at the 9.63 second time blinking on the screen behind him. That was more than a second faster than Wally, who had won the first heat.

“‘Attaboy, Bart!” Donny yelled.

The exclamation caused Bart’s attention to be drawn towards them. He waved proudly at his parents, and then his gaze caught on Jaime. Even from this distance Jaime could see the electric green eyes trained on him. There was no mistaking it now. Even with the other redhead to consider (since Jaime hadn’t heard his name or grade announced yet), he was certain Bart was his mystery caller. There was something in his eyes— a knowing glint— that made Jaime nervous. Could Bart know who he was?

It wasn’t completely impossible. Because he ran the campus radio at night, Jaime had a page on the school website. His name and picture were plastered right along side Cassie and Gar’s. Cassie had the morning shift from 6 am to noon, and Gar’s comedy segment ran from noon to 6 pm, when Jaime started. All Bart had to do was look him up and he would know exactly who Jaime was.

In retrospect, Jaime easily could have done the same to figure out who his annoying caller was. Once he’d received the track team clue, he could have pulled up the roster and narrowed his suspects down. He could have ruled out Wally because he was a Senior, and possibly even the other redhead based on his year. The announcer had said that Bart was a Freshman when he’d announced him as a winner, so Jaime figured he was the most likely of the three to be the caller. He matched all of the physical descriptors.

There were two more sprinting events that followed, each doubling the distance of the previous. After witnessing the 100m event, Jaime wasn’t surprised when Bart came in first for the 200m and 400m. It was honestly impressive. Bart was talented both in the art of running and annoying Jaime over phone calls. Truly difficult feats.

Once the sprinting events were finished, the competitors moved onto the field. Unlike the sprinting events, some members of the team sat out. Jaime noticed only six members of the team were participating. Two for discus, two for shot put and two for javelin. Neither Bart nor Wally was one of the six. The other redhead on the other hand, was lined up at the javelin throwing line.

Jaime paid him little mind. As soon as the announcer introduced him as a Senior, Jaime tuned out completely. Now there was absolutely no doubt whatsoever. Bart was his mystery caller.

While the field events took place, Jaime watched Bart stretching out on the side of the track. He was surprisingly limber. And Jaime had nothing to blame but the part of his mind attracted to men when he watched Bart bend over in his running shorts to stretch out his hamstrings. He had really nice legs, among... other things.

Jaime shook his head. He shouldn’t be thinking things like that. He’d come here to put Bart in his place because of the annoying phone calls. Not admire his amazing calves.

When the field events were over, some members of the team moved back onto the track for the hurdle events. Again, Bart was not amongst them.

“He doesn’t do hurdles either?” Jaime accidentally mused aloud.

Donny turned to look at him. “First track meeting?” he asked, kindly.

Jaime felt a blush crop up on his cheeks. He hadn’t meant for his comment to be out loud.

“Yeah,” he admitted, despite his embarrassment.

Donny gave him a smile. “They each only do one event plus the sprints. You’ve got the three field events, hurdles, and long distance.”

“Oh.” Jaime nodded to show he understood.

Donny outstretched his hand. “I’m Don.”

Jaime shook Bart’s father’s hand. “Jaime,” he returned.

When Don took his hand back, he used it to point to his wife. “This is my wife, Meloni.”

The brunette woman waved at him.

“And my parents, Barry and Iris.” He gestured at each member of the older couple as well.

Jaime ducked his head shyly. “Nice to meet you all.”

The pop of the starting gun drew their attention back to the track where the hurdlers had just taken off from the blocks. Jaime watched on in interest, amazed at the skill that had been displayed today. He’d never imagined a track meet being this entertaining.

After a few moments, Don turned back to him. “Who’re you here for?” He pointed down at the track members surrounding the edge of the rubberized circle, cheering on their participating teammates.

Jaime felt that blush bloom on his cheeks again. Should he be honest? He was sitting right next to Bart’s parents. What if they started asking questions he didn’t have the answers to?

“Uh, I-I’m here for Bart.” He didn’t really have any other options. He didn’t know the names of any of the other track members.

Donny’s green eyes suddenly lit up. “Bart didn’t tell us his boyfriend was coming! It’s quite a coincidence we ended up sitting next to one another!”

Jaime gave a hard blink, processing the sentences that had just exited the blond man’s mouth. “Uh, we’re not-”

Meloni cut him off. “Oh! You’re the one who runs the campus radio! I knew your name sounded familiar. Bart talks about you all the time!”

The first thought that went through Jaime’s mind was, ‘Does he now?’. There was no mistaking it. Bart was 100 percent the annoying student who called into his radio segment each night. And Bart knew who he was. As soon as this track meeting was over, Jaime was definitely going to have some words with him.

“It’s so nice to finally get to meet you!”

Jaime didn’t know whether he should burst their bubble. Don and Meloni seemed like genuinely good people, and they were happy for their son having seemingly found a relationship. Although their assumptions weren’t true, Jaime knew he would feel extremely bad telling them otherwise.

Luckily, there wasn’t much time for him to dwell on the subject. As soon as the winners for the hurdling events were determined, the obstacles were cleared off the track and the next set of runners were lining up at the starting blocks. Two heads of red hair immediately caught Jaime’s attention. Bart and Wally were lining up in lanes one and two, while a few more of their track mates joined them in the other lanes.

“Who do you think it’ll be this time?” Barry posed the question aloud.

“I think Bart’s got a running shot.”

Everyone groaned at Don’s poor-quality joke.

“I apologize on my husband’s behalf,” Meloni mostly addressed Jaime, “What he meant was that Bart’s been working on his pacing. He’s the fastest on the team, and has always taken first in all of the sprinting events, but Wally always gives him some good competition for the long distance stuff.”

Jaime nodded thoughtfully. Bart had definitely been fast; no doubt about that. But he was curious to see how he would do in an event that required more endurance. Apparently he would actually have some competition this time, unlike in the sprinting events where Bart had left all of his teammates in the dust.

When the starting gun fired, Jaime found himself actually holding his breath. This first distance was 1500m, just shy of a mile. Jaime could remember having to do the one mile run in P.E. back in high school and how much of a pain it had been. The best time Jaime had ever gotten was just over six minutes.

For the first lap or so, Wally and Bart were neck and neck. The rest of their teammates were about half a lap behind. Then, when they went into the second lap, Bart kicked it up a notch, pulling ahead. Wally kept his own even pace, a schooled look of determination set over his features, while Bart’s lips transformed into a confident smirk.

By the final lap, Bart and Wally were shoulder to shoulder again. It was clear that Wally had the superior skill when it came to pacing, as he had been able to keep the same speed the whole time, whereas Bart’s speed had varied in spurts, depending on his level of endurance. It was unclear which one of them was going to win.

When Jaime looked around at the stands, he could see fans eagerly debating which one of the redheads they thought was going to win. The general consensus seemed to be Wally, but Jaime had a feeling his High School Musical-song-loving caller had a trick up his sleeve.

When they reached the last 100m or so of the race, the stadium burst into cheering, each person of the audience shouting encouragement to their respective runner. Against all odds, and to the surprise of many, Bart burst into a full out sprint, easily overtaking Wally, and crossing the finish line with an enthusiastic whoop.

Jaime was absolutely shocked to say the least. After running three laps, how had Bart found the energy for that last burst of speed?

A time of 4.02 minutes flashed on the screen behind them as the announcer proclaimed Bart the winner. Meloni and Don broke into cheers beside Jaime, and Barry and Iris clapped as well to show their support. Even Jaime found a small smile working it’s way onto his lips as he clapped, in awe of the impressive speed Bart had just displayed.

There was a few minutes between events while the results of the race were recorded and the next set of runners lined up at the starting blocks. Again, both Bart and Wally were among the competitors. This time, the distance was more than double what they had just run at 3200m. Jaime was curious to see how Bart would hold up against the longer distance.

When the starting gun fired, all of the runners took off as a group, rather than Bart and Wally distinguishing themselves from the pack right away. With eight laps to go, Jaime supposed it made sense. No point in going all out during the first half of the race, only to burn out when it really mattered. Bart and Wally would probably wait until the final few laps to burst ahead of their teammates.

Around and around the track they went, keeping pace with one another until the sixth lap. As soon as they passed the starting line, all of the runners kicked it up a notch, and gaps between the competitors became more noticeable. As expected, Wally and Bart pulled ahead of everyone else, and chatter broke out amongst the crowd about which redhead it would be this time.

Barry and Iris seemed to have their money on their nephew (Jaime had finally pieced it together when Barry made the comment about Iris being a West before marriage), whereas Don and Meloni, being the proud parents they were, were betting on their son to come out on top. Jaime couldn’t help being biased, and was also rooting for Bart. After all, he was the whole reason Jaime was at this track meet to begin with.

Bart was giving his all. Halfway into the last lap, he was ahead of Wally by a few steps. It seemed like he had the win in the bag. Then out of nowhere, Wally pulled the same stunt Bart had last time.

Jaime could see Bart do a double take when his cousin passed him, but there was nothing he could do. Bart’s strength was his speed; not endurance. He was only able to give about 80 percent, whereas Wally had paced himself better, and could pour 100 percent of his speed into the last leg of the race.

While Jaime was disappointed to see Bart take second, he was still impressed overall. Wally had beat Bart by two seconds, but Bart had beat the rest of his team by nearly ten seconds, meaning he and Wally had had quite an impressive lead.

Barry, Iris, Don and Meloni were engaged in a chat about the outcome of the latest race, but Jaime found his eyes glued to his not-so-mysterious (anymore) caller. Despite losing the last event, Bart seemed to be a good sport. He and Wally were standing on the sidelines, getting a quick drink and catching their breaths before the final event was set to start. Between gulps of water, Jaime could see the cousins teasing one another, egging each other on, and hyping one another up for the competition of the next race.

When they were called over to the track for the last event, Bart elbowed Wally in the ribs with a cocky smirk on his face, and Wally retaliated by pulling the smaller man into a headlock to ruffle his hair. Jaime didn’t quite know what to make of it, other than that Bart seemed to have a cocky, playful personality. It explained why he had been so adamant about playing the stupid identity game he had roped Jaime into over the phone during his radio segments each night.

The last distance was 5000m, or approximately 12 laps. Just thinking about that much running made Jaime want to cry. Needless to say, he wasn’t a huge fan of running. Other sports, sure, but running was not something Jaime enjoyed for himself. He would have to give massive kudos to Bart for having enough dedication to running to put himself through the 12 lap race.

Again, all of the runners stayed in a pack for the majority of the race. By about lap eight, it was clear who the real endurance runners were. The six competitors had spread out, a few feet behind one another, with Wally leading. There was a black-haired guy on his heels, and following behind him were Bart and another black-haired runner, a little shorter than the man in front of him. Two more runners were taking up the rear.

Laps nine, ten and eleven passed without much change. It wasn’t until they got into the final lap that Bart mustered the energy to pull ahead of his two black-haired teammates and take up the trail behind his cousin.

Wally’s winning time of fourteen minutes and two seconds flashed up on the scoreboard, followed by Bart’s time of 14.08. Jaime almost had to do a double take. When he calculated the math, it meant Bart had averaged a time of approximately a minute and eleven seconds per lap, and Wally had been faster still!

While the judges and officials were confirming the results of all of the events that had taken place, the stadium around Jaime burst to life as audience members began to make their exit down to the track to meet with and congratulate the athletes they had come to support. Beside him, Don, Meloni, Barry and Iris stood from their seats and gathered up their belongings, preparing to go congratulate Bart and Wally on their wins in today’s events.

“You should come with us, Jaime,” Meloni suggested when Jaime didn’t stand up with the rest of them.

Immediately, a stone sank in the college student’s stomach. What would Bart think if he saw Jaime with his parents? He and Bart hadn’t even met yet. How would Jaime be able to explain if Bart’s parents brought up the boyfriend issue?

Reluctantly, Jaime got up to follow the two couples down to the track. He was sweat-dropping. He really hoped Bart’s parents wouldn’t make things awkward.

As soon as he was in range, Don slung an arm around his son’s shoulders, congratulating him on his multiple wins. Meloni also smothered Bart in a hug when she got her opportunity, cooing over how well he had done. Beside them, Barry and Iris were doing much of the same to their nephew, expressing their awe of Wally’s endurance in the long-distance events. Meanwhile, Jaime stood awkwardly by, waiting for a chance to hopefully have a chat with his not-so-mysterious caller.

When the Allens finally separated from their son, Jaime locked eyes with Bart. There was a glint in those green irises that Jaime couldn’t place. It wasn’t good or bad per say; Jaime could only describe it as making him feel on edge, ready to tip one way or the other.

As soon as Meloni noticed the stare between the two boys, she immediately turned on Bart, much to Jaime’s horror.

“Bart! Why haven’t you introduced us to your boyfriend? He’s such a handsome young man.” She used an insistant hand to push Jaime forward, so much so that he almost stumbled and fell into the chest of his supposed “boyfriend”. Luckily, Bart’s hands came up and caught him by the biceps before that could happen.

Both his and Bart’s eyes widened. Pink burned hot on each of their cheeks. Jaime took a quick step back. He felt like he wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“Well?” Don goaded. “Don’t be shy! I’m glad to see my son’s finally been able to put the Allen-family charm to use! How long have you two been together?”

Jaime could feel the color in his cheeks getting darker by the second. Bart was still giving him this weird look, as if it weren’t his parents who had instigated this whole conversation in the first place. The prolonged awkward eye contact was making Jaime uneasy, and he was tempted to just speak up and shut down Bart’s parent’s idea about him and their son being in a relationship, but before he had the chance, Bart was clearing his throat to speak.

The track star raised a hand to the back of his neck, and Jaime had to do a double-take at the innocent “embarrassed” façade he was now putting on. “Well,” he said, playing bashful, “Guess the cat’s out of the bag, Babe.”

Jaime’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates upon hearing the pet name. Bart was just going to go along with this?!

Without preamble, the redhead slung his arm around Jaime’s shoulders, crushing him into his side in a display of “affection” for his parents’ benefit. “Jaime’s a little shy,” Bart said, when Jaime failed to fill in the silence. “He wanted to keep our relationship a secret. I’m actually a little surprised he came to the track meet today.”

Bart subtly bumped Jaime’s hip with his own, which was a cue for him to talk. It took a moment for the raven-haired boy to scramble for a response. He would play along... for now.

“I had to see if you were as good as you were making yourself out to be,” Jaime had noticed Bart’s encoded message; he hadn’t expected Jaime to take his phone call seriously and show up. Jaime was giving his own back in return (I had to discover who the annoying caller was).

Bart chuckled. “Would I ever lie to you?”

Jaime had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. Now the guy was just laying it on thick.

“Of course not, Chiquito.” The pet name came out from behind clenched teeth.

Luckily, Mel and Donny seemed to buy their act. When it was clear they were in the clear, Bart asked, “Mom, Dad, is it okay if I have a few minutes alone with my boyfriend?”

Meloni and Don shared a look before Don said, “Okay. But no hankey-pankey behind the bleachers!” He waved a finger at them, teasing smile in place over his lips.

Jaime felt himself going pink. “Of course not, Sir,” he managed to get out, in spite of how mixed up this situation had gotten.

Bart grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him a little ways down the track so that they were out of Meloni and Don’s hearing range. As soon as he had the opportunity, Jaime whirled on him.

“What the hell was that back there, ese?” Jaime hissed.

Bart shrugged. “They bought it, didn’t they?”

Jaime felt his eyes narrow into a glare. “Why didn’t you correct them?”

Bart did another shrug, this time with a knowing expression on his face. “It’s not like you said anything either.”

Jaime’s glare fell apart under the truthful accusation. It was his fault for not immediately shutting down the idea when Don had first brought it up to him in the stands.

Bart placed his hands on his hips and began rocking back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels. “In all honesty, I’m actually surprised you showed up.”

Jaime emulated Bart’s pose, resting a fist against his hip and gesturing with the other. “Well, I couldn’t risk you calling back during my segment tonight and accusing me of being a liar in front of my entire audience, now could I?”

Bart tilted his head in such a way that Jaime had to repress the thought of ‘Oh, that’s cute,’ before it accidentally slipped out of his mouth.

A faint pink blush rose to Bart’s cheeks. “I guess I did kind of back you into a corner, didn’t I?” He raised a hand to the back of his neck, and it was the moment that Jaime realized Bart was genuinely sorry for having done so. While he may have wanted Jaime to show up today, it was clear now that he wouldn’t have used Jaime’s absence as blackmail against him if he had decided not to show.

Not wanting Bart to feel guilty, Jaime shrugged it off. “No es gran cosa.”

A smile worked its way onto Bart’s mouth. “I have no idea what that means, but I’m guessing by the look on your face, you’re not actually all that bothered by it.”

Jaime sighed. “Well, besides inviting me here so I can tell you how much I hate granting your High School Musical requests every night, what exactly is the reason?”

Bart scoffed. “I can’t believe you had the audacity to say that to my face!” He was trying to deliver the line seriously, but the smile on his lips told Jaime that he wasn’t actually offended.

Jaime shrugged, a small smirk working its way onto his own lips. “What can I say? Disney Channel movies are cheesy, and their sound tracks are even worse.”

Bart chuckled. “Your music is too depressing. You need something more upbeat. Less lyrics about death, sad childhoods, and oppression. ‘We’re All in this Together’, right ah-me-go?”

Jaime cringed, both at Bart’s pronunciation and at the stereotypes. His music was more complex than what Bart was making it out to be. Besides, Jaime wasn’t here to argue anyway. Bart had invited him to this track meeting with ulterior motives, and Jaime was determined to figure out what they were.

“Not all of my music is depressing,” Jaime countered. “Besides, you ignored my question. Surely you had some kind of motive in inviting me here besides to just discuss your terrible music taste. I want to know what it is.” Jaime raised both eyebrows.

An unexpected pink blush rose to Bart’s cheeks, covering up the freckles sprayed like paint across his Caucasian skin. “I wanted you to notice me.” Jaime nearly missed the words, for they came out of Bart’s mouth in a whisper.

“You wanted me to notice you?” He repeated the statement, hoping for a bit of an explanation.

Bart’s blush deepened, skin in competition with his hair for reddest feature. His green eyes were piercing the ground, seemingly in an effort to burn a hole big enough to burry himself in to avoid such embarrassment. His fingers twisted harshly against one another. His whole aura had changed from the confident runner he had been on the track to nervous schoolboy.

“We’re in the same physics class.” Bart’s sneaker kicked up a puff of dirt as he ground his toe into the sand.

Jaime blinked. He’d never seen anyone like Bart in his physics class. Was he that non-observant that he had missed him?

“I-I usually sit behind you.” It sounded like Bart was struggling to admit something difficult. Usually Jaime was the shyer one in conversations, so he completely understood what it felt like having to lead a difficult conversation. But he wanted to get to the bottom of this. Bart was on the edge of a confession, and Jaime had to know what it was.

“I noticed how a-attractive—” Bart’s blush deepened yet again— “you were pretty much as soon as I laid eyes on you. I-I wanted to get to know you better, so I asked around a little. Turns out Cassie’s a mutual friend of ours. She told me a little bit about you, from working with you at the radio station, and I did a little bit of research on my own. I looked you up on the school website. I started calling in to your station. I kept asking Cassie if she could find out more about you for me. Your favorite color, food, movie... Any hobbies, or things you like. I started piecing together this picture of you in my mind, using our conversations on the phone to confirm or deny my theories about you. Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. I was desperate for you to notice me, so I started dropping hints on the phone, hoping you would take an interest. But you didn’t. And I-I can understand if-if you don’t feel the same way but IthinkIaccidentlyfellinlovewithyou.”

Jaime blinked hard. “¿Qué?” That last bit had left Bart’s mouth in an unintelligible jumble of sounds. Had Bart just admitted he was in love with him?

When Jaime snapped out of his confusion and looked back at Bart, he saw that the track star was struggling to hold back tears. A salty droplet fell from his chin and landed on the ground between them, creating a dark spot in the dirt. His shoulders were trembling with the effort to not let out a cry.

Guilt settled hard in Jaime’s stomach, like a boulder being dropped into a lake. The aftershocks were still rippling through his system. The pieces were slowly coming together.

Bart was in love with him, and wanted the feeling to be mutual. He had called in to Jaime’s radio station, hoping that he could get Jaime to take an interest in him. He wanted Jaime to pursue him, that way he would know for sure that Jaime felt the same way. And Jaime had taken an interest; he’d just done a poor job at showing it.

Hesitantly, Jaime reached a hand forward in an effort to get Bart to look up at him. “Por favor, no llores. Lo siento, I-”

Bart took a step back, angrily wiping his tears away with his fists. “No. I-it’s stupid. I built this idea of you up in my head, and it’s probably not who you are at all. I was just desperate and wanted you to like me back. And I know that me calling you every night was probably annoying and that you probably aren’t even into guys-”

Jaime surged forward, grabbing onto the other boy’s bicep with one hand and cupping his cheek with the other, and did something that surprised himself probably even more than it surprised Bart.

Bart froze, teary eyes wide in shock as Jaime’s lips smashed against his own. He was too surprised to react.

As soon as Jaime realized what he had done, he pulled back, blushing madly. Despite his embarrassment however, he couldn’t help the truth that fell from his lips.

“I am.” When Bart still looked confused, Jaime rushed to clarify. “Into guys. Into... you. I’m bisexual.” He raised a hand to nervously rub at the short raven hairs along the back of his neck, chuckling awkwardly.

Bart seemed to snap out of his stupor. “You’re into me? I didn’t think you were interested. I thought you only came today because I was blackmailing you.”

Jaime’s awkward laugh turned amused. “If you think I showed up today because of your so-called ‘blackmail’, you need a new definition for the word.” He moved his hand from his neck, slipping it into his pocket to pull out his notebook. Jaime flipped it to the page where he had taken down all of the little clues Bart had given to him over the phone and turned the book around to show it to the track star. Bart’s green eyes widened slowly as he read over all of Jaime’s scrupulously written notes.

“I wrote down everything you told me about yourself.”

Bart’s gaze slowly ascended from the page, an awed look in his eyes. Hastily, Jaime closed the notebook and placed it back in his pocket. He shifted his weight from foot to foot in consideration before finally saying, “I’d like a chance to get to know you. I want to give us—” Jaime used a finger to gesture between himself and Bart— “a chance. If that’s... crash?” He tested out the word he’d heard Bart use during a few of their phone calls.

The redhead’s face lit up like a child’s after receiving a piece of candy. “Yeah! That’s totally crash! When are you free?”

“Uh-” Jaime pulled out his phone to check his calendar, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder.

“Time to get this show on the road, Kiddos.” When Jaime looked up to see who the hand belonged to, he saw Bart’s father standing between them, his other hand grasping onto his son’s shoulder. “Who knows what you two would get up to if Mel and I left you alone any longer.” Don playfully shook his head, before turning the eyes Bart had inherited from him on his son. “Your mother and I were college sweethearts, too. We know what kind of things kids your age get up to.”

Both Bart and Jaime blushed at the implications.

“Dad!” Bart groaned in embarrassment.

Don chuckled, as if it were all in a day’s work embarrassing his son. He turned to Jaime. “We usually go out as a family after track meets to celebrate. Everyone’ll be there. It’s a good opportunity for Bart to introduce you to the family. If you’re up for going, Jaime?”

The raven-haired student shared a look with his boyfriend? friend? person-he-thought-was-very-attractive-but-wanted-to-get-to-know-a-little-better-before-dating? Bart shrugged.

Jaime felt put on the spot. He and Bart had just discussed the possibility of beginning a relationship, and now he was supposed to meet the ‘rents? Not that he hadn’t already, but that was beside the point. Going out for a meal with Bart’s parents, grandparents, cousin and who-knows-who-else, and having to pretend that he’s madly in love with someone he was just meeting for the first time today? This had the potential to kill any chances he and Bart had at actually beginning a real relationship.

“I’m sorry, I already have plans,” was what Jaime wanted to say. Instead, he said, “Sure. I’d love to get to meet your family, Cariño.”

“Good evening, Tigers! You’re listening to Houston U’s nightly segment. I’m your host, Jaime Reyes-”

“-and his amazing boyfriend, Bart Allen-”

Jaime had to stifle an ‘oomph!’ as his boyfriend of three glorious months slung an arm around his neck and plopped down on his lap, leaning in close to the microphone so that he could be heard, too.

“-Next up we have ‘Flourescent Adolescence’ by Arctic Monkeys-”

“-And after that, ‘I Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You’ from High School Musical!” Bart slammed a finger into the ‘play’ button, starting the next song in the queue, before swinging his leg around so he could straddle Jaime’s lap and drag him into a kiss.

When they pulled apart, Jaime had a pout on his lips. “Who let you in here?” Bart wasn’t supposed to be in the studio, especially when Jaime was live on the air.

The younger smirked deviously. “Cassie might have loned me her key so that I could pay my boyfriend a visit while he was working...”

Jaime shook his head. “Of course she did.”

Bart booped his nose with a fingertip. “Don’t act so put out. You know you looooove me.”

Jaime shook his head, trying to keep a poker face. “Nope. You just tainted my reputation by saying that we’re gonna play High School Musical songs voluntarily. How could I love someone who would pull such a slanderous act against me?”

Bart poked his nose again. “You looooove me.”

Jaime shook his head. His lips threatened to quirk up into a smile. His poker face was cracking. “Nope.”

Bart hovered his lips dangerously close to Jaime’s own. “Admit it, Babe. You love me more than anyone in the world.”

Jaime’s mask crumbled. “Yeah,” he finally admitted. “Te amo con todo mi corazón.” He pulled Bart that little inch forward to kiss him again.

Unfortunately the phone cut their loving moment shorter than either boy wanted. Jaime picked it up.

“Hello, fellow Tiger! You’re on-air with Houston U’s nightly segment. Care to introduce yourself to all the listeners out there?”

“Yeah, Jaime, it’s Gar. I’m glad to hear that you finally found yourself a good partner, but next time you might want to make sure your mic is off before making any declarations of love while you’re live.”

Crimson bloomed to life across the entirety of his face while Gar hung up on the other end of the line. Immediately, the radio host leaned forward and flicked off the switch to his microphone. Jaime buried his face in his hands.

“I hate you!” He directed at Bart in an embarrassed moan.

Bart chuckled. “Nah. You looooove me.”

Here it finally is @purple--waffles! I’m so sorry it took me so long! I’ve been slowly working on it since the day your request arrived in my asks. Life is crazy, and I haven’t had a whole lot of time to write recently, but I really wanted to finish this for you. My mind ran with the prompt, and even though it took me awhile, hopefully the length makes up for it??? Maybe? Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

#young justice #yj #bart allen #jaime reyes #kid flash #impulse #blue beetle #bluepulse #asks #answers #writing requests #sorry this took me a little while to finish

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fukurodanni · 4 years ago

Text

everything stays (but it still changes)

part 1 || part 2 || PART 3

pairing: tsukishima kei x photographer!reader summary: so the same man (that broke your heart 3 years ago) accidentally gets drunk with you at a work event. how bad could it be? word count: 2.5k note: includes cursing, drunken actions. this whole thing reads a bit like a rom-com, if u haven’t gotten that by now lol

The only thing left to do after it all is to push it all into the back of your mind because you have a job to do tomorrow and you need to be well rested, so you pull the covers over yourself and hope to every deity out there that he isn’t in your dreams, too.

And funnily enough, he isn’t. You stop by for tea before the photoshoot - it’s the Thursday afterwards and Tsukishima isn’t there but you don’t have the time to question it, so you stuff your phone into your back pocket and head off. It’s in a big studio building, and the set is gorgeous, based in off-white and decked with pale yellows and citrus colors. The models seem to have been there for a while, already in makeup, but the stylist is still hanging around so maybe they haven’t been there for very long after all. They straighten a little when you greet them, easy smiles coloring their faces.

Off to business, then.

The work distracts from your wandering thoughts - the flex of Tsukishima’s hands across the table, eyes like swirling honey. It’s easy to lose yourself in the routine of it all, the ridges of a camera lens under your fingertips and the gentle click of the shutter.

Sometime after lunch and before wrapping up, you’re talking with one of the models, Mika, about how her brother is a photography major. She’s been his guinea pig for about two weeks now - you laugh gently as she jokes about how refreshing it is to be in a set that isn’t the corner of a college dorm. Incidentally, you manage not to hear the heavy click of the door behind you.

Mika’s gaze drifts behind you and you don’t think much of it until you notice it drift back to you. That’s when you hear the rest of the production crew and glance over at them, confused. They’re all standing in a little huddle.

“They’re looking for the photographer,” Mika explains, having heard a bit of the conversation.

You get up quickly and stand a little straighter. “I’m the photographer,” you announce, and immediately regret it.

Their heads all turn at once to look at you and it’s only a little unnerving but one of the heads turns out to be Kei Tsukishima and you think your jaw might have decided to glue itself to the floor in response. You realize, now, that perhaps you should have asked him to elaborate about his career. You allow yourself a split second of shock before wiping the expression and walking up to them.

You ask, very politely and not at all like you have weird tension with one of these men, what the issue is. It’s Tsukishima that addresses you, in a short, clipped tone.

“They want the color scheme changed.”

And you gape. “What, why?” you ask, completely forgetting your resolve to ignore him. “We’re finished shooting, they would have told us this beforehand - the whole thing?”

Tsukishima looks unbothered, mostly. “Didn’t reach in time, I guess.”

Part of you wants to strangle him, another part wants to strangle the client, but it’s all fine and well. The photographer’s assistant (who you haven’t talked with, in favor of doing most of the work yourself - you aren’t even sure why he was hired) cracks a joke about checking your schedule and it only serves to piss you off even more. It seems to show on your face though, and - Jun, you think - looks a little sheepish at having joked about it in the first place.

He comes up to you a moment later, after you’ve wandered back towards the set.

“I haven’t done much,” he starts in a low, nervous tone, “I feel sorta bad.” You’re unsure about where the hell he’s going with this but he only grows more nervous and it looks like it’s taking physical exertion from him:

“We could go out for drinks after. On me.”

A little voice in you wants to ask, shamelessly, if he means a date. You’re co-workers, though, and that would cross the line of professionalism, just a bit, but he keeps talking and you realize your chance to ask has probably passed.

The models, besides Mika, have long gone - and it’ll only be four or five people including yourself. It doesn’t sound so bad. And he’s offering to pay. The messenger bag is barely over your shoulder before you reply, “Okay.”

The bar is about as well lit as an 8pm bar should be, lights in pale yellows that, for a moment, remind you of the set. You drink, bitterly.

Everyone is loose with the alcohol and atmosphere, movements and dialogue easy. Jun, funnily enough, is the first to go - absolutely plastered and claiming otherwise. One of the production managers calls him an Uber and excuses himself as well.

Mika leaves after accidentally oversharing. The most your brain could comprehend from that spiel, drunken or not, came in the form of ‘oh’s and ‘ah’s. She makes an excuse for herself too, clearly not having expected to divulge so much.

You’re tipsy at most, having been careful with your drinks and generally reserved to keeping polite conversation. That, or it hasn’t hit you yet. (At least your tolerance is higher than Jun’s.)

Eventually, it dawns on you that you and Tsukishima are the only ones left. You haven’t noticed how much he’d drank, having spent half the night trying not to look at him. You talk to him with a warbled sort of exhaustion. Conversation seems filmy and vague and you’re not bothered by that weird date-thing anymore. You’re sure it’ll come back to you at some point, just not now.

“God, starlight,” he says, and it isn’t as much of a slur as it is a slant, because as soon as it leaves his mouth he seems to realize it. “Out of all the people who could’ve been working that set….”

He chuckles mirthlessly, but you’re frozen in your seat because the nickname falls from his lips with such ease. It is, at once, unerring and much more sobering than it has any right to be.

The rest of the bar is suddenly oceans away. “What gives you any right to call me that again?” you ask, except it comes out in a mangled, jarring breath. The familiarity of it all hits you again just thinking about it, like constellations traced across your shoulder and the warmth of a bed that isn’t yours. “M’not taking any of this starlight bullshit after the stunt you pulled.”

Tsukishima furrows his eyebrows in a semblance of anger. It comes off more like dazed confusion, but it gets the point across. “That I pulled? That was a mutual… pulling. You left me on a bench after giving me mixed signals for two hours.”

“You’re hot, okay? What the hell was I supposed to do?” You’re not thinking very hard about these responses - you’re mostly on autopilot, watching the way his fist tightens and loosens, the way he crosses his arms. Arms that spent hours snaked around you, swaying along to music so low it made it seem like you were the only two in the world who could hear.

“Thanks,” he replies bluntly.

You think about replying for a second, think about the way he’d flick your forehead, enough to calm your skin but never your heart. And then, eloquently: “Fuck off.”

You sit in silence.

It’s in the instant that you’re coming up with an excuse to leave that you hear him, quiet and somber as if you weren’t supposed to hear it at all. “I still…” Tsukishima glances at the table in front of him, fingertips gliding over glossy wood.

“Loved you,” he finishes, lamely. “Love you. Past tense. I don’t know.”

You’re watching him unravel like this, face flushed and pointedly avoiding your gaze. Except suddenly it’s like the crack of lightning, breakneck and furious and long overdue. “Fucking what?”

“Huh?” Tsukishima raises his head.

“The hell did you dump me for, then?” Your voice comes out a little more shrill than you’d meant, a little louder and a little more brash. So be it. He looks lost for words, foggy with drink and unresolved emotion, probably.

He isn’t answering, so you prod again. “Why did you dump me if you still fucking loved me? Why is this coming out now? Motherfucker, I still loved you!”

He stares numbly, hazily. “I didn’t want to deal with it.”

You want to smack the glasses off his face.

“So what, you dealt with me for 3 years and got tired of it?”

“You know that’s not what happened.”

“You could’ve fucking talked to me. Could’ve lied to my face instead of just walking out that fucking door without an explanation. Kei.”

The look on his face is desperate, disdainful. He doesn’t want to have this conversation but goddamn are you going to force it out of him.

He glances at the other bar patrons. “Can we talk about this? Outside?”

Which is how you find yourself in Kei Tsukishima’s passenger seat at 11pm on a weekday, screaming enough profanities to scare your grandmother into an early grave.

When it’s all out of your system, the only dredges left are of simmering regret. There is no anger left to give and only the hollow, mournful feeling that you’d spent so long trying to internalize. You remember contentedness and routine being ripped out from under your feet, kicking and thrashing as it was overtaken by shame. Shame and distress and the sharpest edges of remorse - of thinking that maybe - maybe Tsuki wouldn’t have left if you had been a little more careful. That somehow, despite everything, maybe you could have convinced him to stay.

His eyes are a miserable amber under parking lot lights and maybe yours are a little watery, but he takes the silence as a cue to talk.

And god, does he talk - staring holes into his hands as he does, never once meeting your eyes - about his fears, about letting you slip through his fingers and watching you go. “Because I saw forever with you,” he says, quiet and prayerful. “I thought I saw forever and I wanted it so badly, I ran when I thought it wouldn’t come.”

Like sand in an hourglass, watching grain by grain slip past the point of return and thinking that maybe there wasn’t going to be a forever - and if it ended, it would be on his own terms, running to put effort into everything that wasn’t you, shameful and laden with guilt. His hand is barely shaking in his lap and against it all, you want to take it in yours. It takes a special, sobering kind of talking down to restrain the urge.

And then, wonder of wonders, he apologizes.

Tsuki apologizes, only just managing to meet your eyes, nervous and different and new. For the misunderstandings and the endless fear and the regret of not having realized it sooner. You laugh, a wet and broken thing, and apologize too. It’s barely midnight and you’re still in the parking lot but the buoyant, hopeful feeling in your chest tells you that there are only two people in the world right now; only two that matter.

You wake up in a hotel bed.

It takes you about two seconds to absolutely lose your shit before realizing you’re still dressed and by that fact, nothing eventful happened. Kei sits next to you, scrolling idly on his phone and it hits you all at once - how content you feel, sitting quietly with him - keeping watch as the sun kisses his hair into shining ivory, glasses glinting in the light.

You feel as if heavy wires of tension have been removed from your limbs. They aren’t so leaden anymore but lighter and easier. Kei glances at you.

“Morning.”

You blink at him. “How the fuck did we get here?” and then, belatedly, “G’morning.”

He chuckles lightly and you consider, momentarily, that this is all a dream. Much too idyllic for your taste, but he explains that it was the most convenient option after a long crying session because you were in no state to drive and it was right there, anyway, and he had the money. He sounds a little sheepish by the end, but it’s all the more endearing. None of this makes sense, anyway.

You order room service - not breakfast, he has a habit of saying ‘good morning’ during odd hours of the afternoon. (A part of you wants to ask where he picked it up, and the other already knows the answer.) And talk all the while, same as before. You feel very grown up sitting with him like this, talking over bagels and tea having hashed everything out in a half-drunken therapy session the night before.

Part of it is so, so familiar. The way he doesn’t quite grin when he’s trying to hide it - the corners of his mouth turn up in an almost-smile and his eyes light with mirth. Another is new - two adults who happen to know each other, talking about everything and nothing at all. It feels a bit like a first date and it fills you with something rare and electric.

He has to drop you off at the bar again, walking you to your car and cracking a joke about the absurdity of it all. It’s about as awkward as it sounds on paper, but it’s perfect and good and you look up at him with new eyes. You’re opening the car door when Kei calls for you in a rushed, harried tone.

“Go out with me,” he says, halfway across the parking lot. “It doesn’t have to be with forever in mind but I’d like a second chance. If you’re willing to take a second chance.”

“Not forever?” you ask, and it’s supposed to come out joking. You take a few steps closer and watch as he does, too.

“Focus on what’s happening now. No running away from what I think the future holds.”

“Sounds good. Sounds solid.”

“Yeah. Good.”

A beat of silence. You’re closer than you were a second ago; you can see the smudge on the edge of his lens where you jokingly smacked him earlier. Your heart does a funny, acrobatic sort of thing.

His mouth opens, a sentence starts and ends. He tries again.

“Can I kiss you?”

“What? Ye- mmph.”

He tastes like 2pm breakfast food and black tea with too much lemon in and you melt like sugar in the rain. He kisses like home, warm and comfortable and easy. It makes you think that no matter how much has changed - how much you’ve grown - there’s a distinctness in Kei Tsukishima that will always feel familiar. Home after a lifetime away, coming up for air after hours underwater. Maybe it’ll always be like that with him, no matter how much time goes by.

You can’t wait to find out.

#thank u for sticking all the way thru if u did!#big smooches #tsukishima kei #tsukishima imagine #tsukki #tsukishima x y/n #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x you #tsukishima kei x reader #tsukishima kei x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu one shot #tsukishima fic #emu writes #my writing

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regrettablewritings · 4 years ago

Text

Preference: What Strange Being Are They? II

Characters: Victor Stone, Harley Quinn, Erik the Phantom, Nevada Ramirez, **Surprise Character**

Victor Stone - Simulacrum

The proper term, as he saw it, was simulacrum: An image or representation of someone or something. That was the more proper term. But in Victor’s mind, ordealed and pulled every which way but up, it meant something just as contorted as his form had become: An imitation of something else that may or may not have ever even existed. A collection of broken pieces, cobbled together to look like something familiar, all the while lacking in its qualities enough to make it abundantly clear that no, this was no longer what someone knew. Or maybe they never knew him to begin with.

In layman’s terms, Frankenstein’s monster.

Then again, he supposed the term “cyborg” was not entirely incorrect. There were, after all, traces of his organic self still present, albeit restricted to the face. But there was almost a sense of struggle in that title to him. A sense of denial. Simulacrum might have hurt, but at least, to him, it was honest.

But Silas Stone preferred to call him his son. And Victor called that ignorantly optimistic. After all: What sort of father drags his son back from the cusp of a peaceful passing, utilizing otherworldly means to reassemble him nerve by metallic nerve until he no longer resembled the boy he remembered himself being? A father too driven, Victor decided. One whose own dreams and memories had become a simulacra in and of themselves: They became so distorted, that they no longer resembled reason or reality.

And as far as Victor was concerned, he’d paid the price.

He kept to himself, reserving night time as the only time he could wander the streets of Gotham to himself — but just barely. There was only so much hiding a flimsy hoodie from his time at Gotham U could provide. But still: Technically speaking, he was safe. Monstrous, perhaps, but safe. Safe from wandering eyes, safe from judgement over what he’d lost and since become, safe from . . . Well, life. He was perfectly content living a simulation of life, in fact.

But what he wasn’t prepared or safe from was that fateful night he met you, unafraid and completely real. Well, if anything, you were real curious . . .

Harley Quinn - Succubus

Nobody talks about what happens when you starve a succubus. Mainly because the belief is that the only way to starve a succubus is to deny her, ahem, intimacy. And while this certainly wasn’t an untruth in most cases, the case that was Harley Quinn was a rather . . . unconventional one. Well, as unconventional as anything concerning a succubus could be.

For one, she had adapted her needs to better suit her environment. She had to: If she relied solely on just physical intimacy alone, she would have died long, long ago. After all, The One That Shan’t Be Named seemed to make it a point of starving her of all the resources she could possibly siphon energy from. Eventually, it came to a point where she simply had to learn how to consume energy from other means: Attention; the glances of lustful men and women; affections. Little, teeny, tiny sources that paled in comparison to the full-course meal she might’ve gotten before. But it was better than starving, and she needed to get by in this world however she could.

Not only because she quite liked some bits and pieces of this side of the veil, but also because in the end, she simply wasn’t as powerful as she once was. She still carried some of her paranormal traits with her (minor dream-walking, enhanced agility, etc), but it definitely wasn’t enough to drag her back to whence she came. Not that she wanted to.

She’d become rather fond of the den of sin that was Gotham City. And, to her own surprise, she had become rather fond of you, the poor newbie that foolishly agreed to her Craigslist ad for a new roommate. But then again, she was far more than old enough to know better; why be shocked? After all, you were so, so warm when compared to every other person she’d endured in such close proximity in the past. Much sweeter, much more . . . Deliciously innocent . . .

Erik the Phantom - Fossegrim

Fossegrims are, at least when compared to most other water spirits, rather on the benevolent side. They weren’t like sirens, using their musical gifts to lure people in to a watery grave -- at least, not normally. It was that they much preferred to enchant without malicious intent, plucking at their harp strings or sliding bows across their fiddles to produce ensorcelling sounds of the wind in the forest, the chorus of rushing water resonating in every note. It was just simply not in their nature to be especially malevolent.

At their worst, they were very particular: Even at their most agreeable, there was always a caveat of sorts.

If a fossegrim were to agree to live with a human partner, for example, he needed to have free and regular contact with a water source, lest he grow dire. And if a fossegrim were to offer his tutelage for the fiddle to someone, they would need to participate in a very particular ritual that included stolen mutton, a white he-goat, and a lot of Thursdays.

(And even if one were to succeed at this, they would be faced with a most . . . unorthodox means of being “trained”. Once again, nothing done in malice, but surely there had to be a cleaner way.)

Erik personally did not stick as strictly to these circumstances as others of his kind might -- really, he saw little point in it. After all: Who would come wandering in a watery cavern, and searching for a fossegrim’s teachings, no less! No, he had grown used to his solitude, if bitterly so. He told himself that he was more than happy to live out his naturally long life, secluded, playing beautiful pieces that would remain suffocated beneath whatever structure had gone up above his cove. He almost dared to think it a pity . . . Until one day, a visitor arrived.

And you came bearing a gift: Not a he-goat, nor stolen mutton. You hadn’t come bearing meat of any kind at all! All you carried with you as you clumsily paddled your small boat was a ring: An heirloom, old and dingy, but precious nonetheless. It was all you could offer him that equated to your desire to learn by his hand.

It perplexed the fossegrim. But it also filled him with something . . . warm. Bright, even. Pride. After all, who was he to disappoint such a humble, obedient student. . .?

Nevada Ramirez - Vampire

Vampires: Creatures of fear and woe. They lurked in the shadows, the particulars of their lore transforming about as much as they themselves could. Feeding off the fears of the common folk, draining their energy while all the while enticing their prey closer and closer still.

The transformation fit Nevada like a glove.

And, like a fashionable, leather glove befitting as his aesthetic, he wore it all with style. And perhaps a bit too much glee. Vampires, as it turned out, weren’t just day-dwelling bloodsuckers after all: The great thing about living in a city so varied as New York was that it allowed for evolution and strange mixes to occur. Nevada lucked out: He’d been vampirically sired by a strain that could eat human food, go out in daylight, weren’t effected by crucifixes, and didn’t require an invitation to enter a goddamn building.

The catches, unfortunately, were as followed: Food no longer tasted as vibrant; he could go about his day but with powers limited so drastically that he may as well have been another lowly-ass mortal; bullets were still a big no-no (unless he was the one shooting ‘em); and whether he liked it or not, he still required blood to properly get by. And as disappointed by the food situation as he was, he considered that of the blood a proportionate gain: Blood, Nevada found out, was far more varied when spiced with hormones.

His club made for a perfect den, a place where prey of all sorts could walk in, gyrate themselves into a frenzy, then come crawling over to him (the most minimum of efforts on the part of his pheromones) and offer to him their bodies without even knowing the true nature of what he wanted of them. And for a while, it worked like a charm.

Until Nevada realized he’d never quite had a taste of you, yet. You, with your wide and innocent eyes, cheeks burning whenever you saw him staring at you from the VIP section.

Sure, excitement from arousal was tasty. But the undead gang leader couldn’t help but wonder what the taste of excitement from nervousness tasted like . . .

Lucifer Morningstar - Human

They are without particularly long lives. They are born helpless and remain so much longer than most creatures on Earth do. And yet, it is amazing and strange how much humans can pack into their lives.

Take, for example, one Lucifer Morningstar: He’d changed his name from [Redacted] to better suit the image he wanted, which was that of a walking spectacle. And if his name weren’t enough, everything else he did surely was: The wealth he accrued through mysterious means; the successful nightclub on the LA strip that he owned; an immortal bed life; and a tapestry of connections he’d made by pulling favors. All topped with a devilishly handsome face to boot!

If Lucifer ever had a goal, it was to live it up and/or go to Hell in a hand basket trying.

Which was probably why he wasn’t one to shy away from hosting a little large get-together at Lux for Halloween. And by get-together, Lucifer clarified on social media: They would, in fact, be holding a seance and summoning. After all, what sexier way to embrace the taboo of darkness than to play around with the veil as though it were part of a dress-up game? It was too good an opportunity to miss out on, as any good attention-whore businessperson would tell you.

Unfortunately, for as lucky as Lucifer tended to be, he still bore upon his shoulders multiple flaws. Human flaws. Such as the flaw of not exactly doing research and providing a thorough vetting process when it came to hiring the “performer” who would be commencing the seance and summoning.

This was LA, after all: He probably could just pluck any rando off the street and get a good show out of it. He wasn’t even sure where he pulled this rando from (chances were, he was buzzed and/or high while doing so), but he couldn’t argue with the results of a crowd bewildered by the surprisingly realistic smoke effects and lights flickering. Though he had to admit: They could’ve put you in better demonic makeup for when the lights settled and you stood there, having suddenly “appeared” in the previously-drawn pentagram.

Still, you were cute enough: He supposed if he played his cards right, flirted with you in the usual Lucifer way, then perhaps his Halloween night might be filled with many tricks and treats yet! So he found himself perplexed when you continued to act confused and thrown off, even after the “performer” had finished their routine and left.

Wait, weren’t you supposed to be with them? How did you even get in here? Why do you keep asking how you got here, or if you got stuck in another person’s Hell, or -- . . . Oh. Oh, shit.

As a human, Lucifer was intent on filling his life to the brim with as much story and experiences as possible. But sometimes, there are just some things humans -- even ones like Lucifer -- shouldn’t dabble with . . .

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