#and I like having it it’s on my desk and make me nostalgic but proud jchdjdjd

[yoohyeon]

Tag by @sunmiyane for this really cute poll game 🫶 I honestly don’t have a lot of cool thing in my room so I spend all day thinking about what I could put and half of it is pokemon fjsbjdbd

Tagging : @niteview @hoforwonho @lenteur @kimjunnoodle @doyeons @yunwooisms @jaebeomtual @bixiaoshi @insomtiny @wonhos-fabuloso @chlotual @taeraenomuyeppeo and anyone wanting to join on the fun ! 🫶

[gracexthoughts]

of violent delights chap 16

too sweet

7  june 1996

Euphemia’s POV 

We made it back to the hospital wing last night in the nick of time and the discovery that Sirius had escaped sent Snape into a conniption. I won’t deny it was slightly amusing; while Snape tends to be nicer to me than Harry, he’s still a prick. Pomfrey let Harry, Hermione, Ron and I leave the hospital wing at noon this afternoon, although most of the students are at Hogsmeade for the last trip before the train leaves tomorrow. 

Exhausted, I’ve chosen to rest instead of going to Hogsmeade. We may have gone to bed around eleven last night, but I added about 3 extra hours to my life so I feel like I stayed up most of the night but first, Harry and I decide to pay a visit to Lupin. His office door is open and as we enter, I notice most of his things have already been packed. “Hello Mia, Harry,” Lupin says before he turns to see us, “I saw you coming,” he smiles and motions to the Maruader’s Map open on his desk. He has more scrapes across his face and he looks terribly pale. “I’ve looked worse.” 

“You’ve been sacked?” Harry asks, looking around. 

“No, I’ve resigned. Professor Snape let slip the nature of my condition and I feel its best to get ahead. At this point, the outcome is inevitable.” Lupin sighs, taking books from the shelf behind his desk and into a case. 

“That’s not fair! You didn’t hurt anyone! Maybe Dumbledore-” 

“Dumbldore has already risked enough on my behalf,” Lupin interrupts me, raising a hand to stop me. “By this time tomorrow, owls will start arriving with angry letters from parents. Like I said, it is inevitable. It’s alright, let’s just say I’m used to it.” 

“Doesn’t make it fair,” I sigh. “You’ll come live with us, won’t you? Now that Sirius can’t, we have the room.” 

“I will visit, I promise, but I won’t stay. I have my own place in London and you don’t need a guardian anymore, Mia.” Lupin moves around the desk and leans against it to face us. “I’m quite proud of the two of you and how much you learned this year. Tell me about your Patronuses.” 

Harry and I tell him what happened, both times, and what forms our charms took. “Our father, his animagus form was a stag wasn’t it?” Harry asks at the end of his story. 

“Yes, that’s why we called him Prongs,” Lupin says, smiling faintly at the memory. He stands suddenly, as if just remembering something important, and moves back around his desk and hands harry back his Invisibility Cloak. “I brought this back from the Shack this morning. And, since I am no longer your teacher, I feel no guilt about giving this back to you as well,” he says motioning to the map. “I dare say that James would be very disappointed if his children never found any of the secret passages in the castle.” We all chuckle at that. 

“None of it made any difference,” Harry says sadly, looking down at the cloak in his hands, “Pettigrew got away and Sirius-” 

“Is alive. That makes all the difference in the world,” Lupin implores, looking very deeply into Harry’s eyes as he places a hand on his shoulder. “You did a very noble thing, stopping us from killing Peter. Your parents would have most certainly done the same, and Sirius may not be absolved but he is free. And the two of you are certain of his innocence. That, for now, is enough… Now, I must say goodbye. Send me an owl once you are settled in your apartment, okay?” Lupin asks, handing me a small piece of parchment with an address scribbled on it. 

“I will,” I nod, smiling up at my godfather and he nods, picking up his suitcase and his walking stick but before he does, he turns to the map still on his desk and, with a flick of his wand, mutters “Mischief Managed,” with a nostalgic smile and leaves the office and the classroom, leaving Harry and I in his office in silence, just the two of us once again. 

✦

Mattheo’s POV

I step into the already raging party, instantly hit with loud music and flashing lights, the air is thick with warmth and smoke as a majority of the student body celebrates the end of the school year. I push through the crowd until I see Theo, Enzo, Elladora and Astoria and make my way towards them. 

“Hey mate, finally decided to stop moping and join the party?” Theo chuckles, lightly smacking my shoulder. 

“Shut up,” I grumble and take the liquor bottle that he’s holding and take a swig. 

“Why were you moping, Mattheo?” Astoria asks from the arm of the chair to my left. 

“He got stood up by the princess last night,” Enzo says sitting down next to her, his comment making Theo chuckle. Enzo and Theo had been the unfortunate two that were still in the common room when I finally came back last night and I told them everything which I am now severely regretting. 

“You planned a date with her?” Elladora cries, disgust on her face. 

“No!” I growl, reaching around Astoria to smack the top of Enzo’s head. “We were supposed to have rounds. She bailed and I am not moping.” 

Ella watches me for a moment before stepping closer and leaning up to whisper in my ear, “When she breaks your heart don’t come crying to me.” And with that, she shoves past me and further into the party. 

“For the record, I think the two of you would be great together, Matt,” Astoria says, squeezing my hand for a moment. 

“Yeah, The Girl Who Lived and the Heir of the Dark Lord. Common sense pairing really; what could go wrong?” Enzo mutters behind his drink, earning another smack but from Astoria this time. 

“Why should that matter? The war is over and your father’s gone, isn’t he?” 

“I need a drink. Feel free to stop discussing my life,” I grumble and turn away from my friends, their laughter following me. I push through the crowd towards the back wall of the room where the drink table is and at it, I see a familiar figure making a drink. 

“Well, well, well, look who I found,” I say lowly in her ear, startling her and she turns to face me. 

“Hey! You scared the shit outta me!” Mia says, her face lighting up with a large smile. 

“Hey Princess,” I say with a small smile. She’s wearing lightly distressed jeans and a tight and cropped green shirt which makes her auburn hair look more vibrant; all this to say she looks fucking hot. “You look great,” I say, resisting the urge to tell her how good she looks in green and how lovely she’d look wrapped up in the dark green sheets of my dorm bed. 

“Thanks,” she says, her cheeks flushing as she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “Hey listen, I’m so sorry about last night,” Mia says earnestly, “The whole thing was so much more complicated and insane than I ever could have guessed and I couldn’t get away. I’m sorry.” Her green eyes are wide and honest and all the bitterness that has sat in my chest the last 24 hours melts away. 

“‘S’arlight, Mia. No big deal,” I say with a shrug, hoping I’m hiding the disappointment I felt last night. 

“I’m even more sorry that my brother interrupted us yesterday,” she says, picking up the drink she had been making and taking a sip. 

“We do seem to get interrupted a lot, don’t we?” I chuckle, pouring myself a cup of Firewhiskey. I tell myself that us getting interrupted is for the best but still everytime I’m left wondering what would have happened if we were left alone for another minute or twenty. “So, what happened last night that was such a mess?” 

“Ugh, Godric,” she sighs with a chuckle. “It’s a very long story but it involved a secret tunnel, a werewolf, a rat, a dog and several dementors.” 

“Bloody hell, what did you get yourself into this time?” I chuckle, eyes wide and Mia laughs. 

“A mess for sure,” she laughs. “But it ended up being for the best, I think.” 

“You didn’t have anything to do with the runaway hippogriff and Sirius Black escaping, did you princess?” I ask, stepping closer, and very intrigued at hearing her story. 

“That’s preposterous!” She exclaims, sarcastically scandalized. 

“Salazar, it’s a party, Potter, not school. Who actually speaks like that?” I tease. 

“Huh, and here I was starting to think you liked the way I talk,” she fires back without a moment’s hesitation, her eyes flicking to my lips only for a moment. 

“Hey, Mia, there you are. You said you’d be right back and I got worried. Everything okay here?” One of the Weasley twins asks, his eyes boring into me as I step back from Mia and he wraps an arm around her. Mia’s shoulders tense slightly as irritation flickers in her eyes for a split second. 

“Peachy,” I deadpan, returning his gaze as I take a long sip of my drink. Interrupted, again. 

“Hey, Freddie, Matt and I were just talking. Do you need a drink?” Mia says and I suppress a smile at Mia using my nickname so casually in front of Fred because it seems to cause him to bristle. Fred raises an eyebrow and looks back to me, his arm still around Mia’s shoulders casually, the sight twisting my gut into a knot.

“Oh yeah? Sure, I’ll take a drink,” he says, not taking his eyes off me as he grabs an alcoholic Butterbeer bottle but it seems like he’s had quite a few already. 

“Yeah, Freddie. No need for a guard dog,” I sneer, leaning back against the table, my gaze not leaving Fred’s, jealousy raging in my stomach and chest. Fred stiffens, his jaw ticking, as Mia moves out from under her arm. 

“Okay, unnecessary,” she snaps at me before looking back to Weasley. “Can the two of you cool it with whatever macho-testosterone-filled-pissing contest you’ve had going all year? Unless you’d rather go to the bathroom and measure them just to finally settle it all?” Mia snarks. “Mattheo and I are friends now, I told you that earlier, so there’s no need to be protective,” she says to Fred before turning to me, ”and there’s no need to be defensive.” She looks between the two of us, daring one of us to defy her. 

“Mia, how can you be friendly with him? His father-”

“I am very aware, Fred, and if I, of all people, can move past it then certainly you can as well!” Mia fires back, interrupting Fred. 

“I don’t need you to defend me, princess,” I bite out, my gut twisting more and more every time Mia looks at him. Mia turns to me, hurt hiding behind her eyes and I immediately regret saying it. 

“Hey, don’t talk to her like that!” Fred snaps, reaching out to push me back but I swing on instrict, my fist connecting with his face, and force him to stumble back. 

“Stop!” Mia cries, stepping between us as a crowd forms a circle around us. Mia pulls Fred’s hand away from his face, nothing bleeding but he’ll take a shiner home tomorrow. Fred pushes Mia behind him, her much smaller frame easy for him to push back as he comes to get in my face, using the inch of height he has on me to his advantage. 

“You leave her alone. She has enough trouble in her life without you adding more,” he says lowly to me, trying to be threatening but, to me, the pranksters of Hogwarts are just clowns. 

“Back up, Weasley, or I’ll send you home to your mummy in a box,” But I don’t get a chance to make good on my threat as Mia wrenches Fred back by his arm and starts shouting at him how she’s not a helpless damsel in distress and she doesn’t need him to protect her from anyone but I stop listening and stalk through the crowd and out of the party. 

At the back of the room, there's a slightly hidden staircase that leads up to the boat house and the lake. I take the stairs two at a time, no longer in the mood for parties or people, and take a deep breath as the warm night air hits my face and enters my lungs. She’s too good for you. She’s better off without you in her life, the voice in my head reminds me, souring my mood further as I reach for a cigarette. I try to spark my lighter but it refuses to light, out of fuel, and angrily I chuck it into the water of the Black Lake, sending ripples across the otherwise still waters as I sit on the edge of the ancient dock. 

I sigh, looking down at the unlit cigarette in my hand and try to snap the fingers of my free hand, desperately hoping to produce a flame long enough to spark. After a few tries, I manage it; a small but steady flame at my fingertips, the warmth dancing along my skin but not burning, and I inhale the smoke into my lungs and let the flame extinguish. The waning moon shines brightly on the surface of the lake and the hum of insects and birds and creatures fills my ears, slowly draining the angry blaze in my chest to smoldering embers. 

I don’t know how long I sit here, smoking and staring at the water and thinking about Mia; the physical manifestation of all I want in the world and everything I can’t have. Of course the first girl I want more than one night with is her. She’s too good, too sweet, too gentle for the likes of me. Men like me don’t get the girl, they don’t get happy endings, they don’t get what they want and I hate myself for allowing my heart to convince my brain that I could have all that. I take a final drag of my cigarette and flick the roach into the water, sending more ripples across the surface as it floats away with my hope. 

“That’s littering, you know?” A voice pulls me from the dark depths of my own mind and I turn my head to see Mia standing by the stairs. 

“Gonna give me detention? Get a head start on next year?” I ask dryly, turning back to look out at the water. I hear Mia’s footsteps across the wooden dock until she appears in my peripheral and sits next to me at the edge of the dock. 

“I’m really sorry about Fred. He’s drunk and he’s being stupid and protective and a jerk. He shouldn’t have brought up your dad, you don’t deserve that, I’m sorry,’’ she says, her voice soft and gentle. 

“‘S fine,” I grumble, resisting the urge to look at her. 

“No it’s not. He was totally out of line, that’s not okay,” she implores. When I don’t respond, she reaches out, placing her hand on my knee and setting me on fire, but I can’t give in to it, I can’t, so I pull away and stand up.

“I’m used to it. It’s whatever. Have a good summer, Potter,” I force myself to say, sparing one glance at her beautiful face clouded in hurt, before I tear my eyes away and start back towards the party. 

“So that’s it?” Her voice rings out, stopping me in my tracks against my will. “The year is over and you’re just going to go back to hating me? Pretend that nothing happened this year? That something didn’t change between us? That there’s nothing here? You’re just gonna run away because you’re scared?” Hurt clouds her voice, changing it from the clear, sweet, tempting sound I’m so used to and I turn around to face her. She’s standing now, her back to the water and her hair blowing out behind her in the gentle breeze, her eyes dark in the low light but confusion shines in them. Even with her face in shadows and her features contorted by pain, she’s still the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen. 

“I’m not scared,” I manage to say, my fists clenched at my side. 

“Then why are you acting like this? C’mon Mattheo, we’ve been towing this line for months and you’re going to just walk away? Try and make me think it's all been in my head?” She asks, moving to close some of the distance between us. 

“Mia,” I breathe out, her magnetic field threatening to pull me in the closer she gets to me.

“No. Say it. Tell me it's all in my head,” she implores, looking up at me pleadingly, like I am her last life line. 

“Stop.” 

“I'll stop if you can look me in the eyes and tell me its all in my head...You can’t say it, can you?” She asks, now a mere breath away from me, her perfume invading my senses and it takes all of my crumpling willpower to not reach out and touch her. “You’re many things, Mattheo Riddle, but you are not a liar. Not to me. You can’t say it because you know it's not true. You’ve felt it too.” 

“I’m not a good man, Mia,” I say, my voice rough. “I’m not a good person and I’m not going to pretend I am because running around pretending you are a good person is worse than just accepting you aren't one. I’m not good for you; everything I touch I break and I don’t want to break you.” 

“I think you are a good person. I’ve seen it, I know it. You’re just afraid to show anyone because you think it makes you weak but it doesn’t!” 

“I’m not afraid of anything,” I snap. 

“Fine, then prove it!” She says so loudly it echoes over the water for a moment. We stand there for a moment completely still, our eyes locked and our breath uneven. I want nothing more than to close the distance between us but I don’t because she’s right. I am scared. I’m scared because there is no way this works out well. I’m not a good man and I’m not a good partner and she deserves the world and I could never give it to her. “Why are you so bloody stubborn?” She breathes out, shaking her head slightly before she takes a step forward and, cupping my face in her hands, presses her lips to mine and my world explodes. 

All my willpower crumples under her touch and I give in; my hands find the bare skin of her waist, pulling her body closer to mine, as our lips move in tandem. All I’m aware of is her; her lips, the way she smells and tastes, and the feel of her body pressed against mine. The world could implode around us and I wouldn’t notice, all my senses are consumed with her. Her hands are in my hair, tangling with my curls and I pull her impossibly closer as my hands clutch her to me desperately; one still on the bare skin of her waist and the other on her cheek, wrapped up in strands of her hair that is as soft as I’ve always thought it looked. I kiss her like the world is ending, like a starved man who hasn’t eaten in years, like kissing her could absolve me of all the darkness in my soul and make me anew. 

She pulls away slightly after a moment, both of us breathless, and I’m in awe of her like this: her lips swollen, hair tousled and pupils dilated. “Matt,” she says breathlessly and I lean back in, capturing her lips once more. I step her backwards until her back is pressed against the wall of the boathouse, eliciting a small gasp from Mia’s mouth as her bare skin collides with the cool glass. I smirk against her lips, pressing further into her body as I deepen the kiss, taking advantage of her gasp. My body takes over, no longer thinking through my actions or their consequences, and I just feel. All that exists to me in this moment is us and for once I’m not the son of the Dark Lord and she’s not The Girl Who Lived. We are just Mattheo and Euphemia, Matt and Mia, and right now that is more than enough.

a/n; ahhhh!!!

yes this is named after too sweet by hozier bc its sooooo mattheo riddle coded and fit really well and I was listening to it while i wrote this. also this gif makes me literally feral so enjoy ;)

one more chapter to go in PoA year and then we get to move on to GoF so yay!

taglist; @purplegardenwhispers @somethingswiftandstyles @weasleyreidstyles @mayamonroem @girlbooklover555 @stxrszurzolo @abaker74

[pbandjesse]

I am sitting in the bathtub at me and James's new house writing my post. I am wearing off of my clothes. I am just watching James finish the tiles on the bathroom floor. We have had another really productive night. And today was a pretty good day.

I just learned that today was the foggiest day in American history. And I am not surprised because it was in fact crazy foggy. It was spooky and I liked that.

I slept okay last night. I continue to have worked dreams. But it wasn't the worst sleep. James woke me up to let me know they were leaving a little early to try and beat the rain. But the rain would still get them. And then they got a flat tired and had to walk the rest of the way. I felt so bad. But they said they were okay and to not worry about them. But all I do is worry about them because I love them so much.

I would struggle this morning too though. I got up and I had an extreme pain in my eye. To the point I couldn't put any makeup on. I just did eye drops and blush. And thankfully the pain would pass halfway to work but Jesus it was not fun.

It was spooky out with the fog and that made the drive interesting. People were going very slow. Which is fair. I still made it to work just about 8.

It was not a very cold day. But all the snow was melting hardcore and so everything was wet and muddy. I had wanted to go for a walk but it was just a little to gross out.

So I worked on some drawing. And I worked on my schedules. And I worked on my programing. And it was just a really good and productive morning.

Everyone else would come in and I got to talk about Disney a bit. I had brought in all of the pins that me and Jess didn't care for and are planning on trading. I tried to find some of them on the forums and found some of them are from Tokyo Disney and Hong Kong. I offered my coworkers some because I have more then I'll ever need and everyone picked one. Including Joe, who put it directly on his jacket. It was a nice day.

I had my lunch but I was still hungry. And apparently I wasn't the only one because by the after noon Elizabeth and Sarah decided to order fancy pizza. So we had fancy pizza in the afternoon and it was honestly really great. We talked about documentaries we liked and true crime and it was just s really nice way to spend the day at work.

I also had a meeting with Alexi about the summer. I don't really feel like I said what I wanted to say. We mostly talked about issues I felt like were present and issues with how arts and crafts and the Early American program were handled. Staffing issues. But it was something and I always enjoy talking to Alexi so it was still nice.

And then it was basically the end of the day. I had had two deliveries and was very excited to meet James at the house to start building things.

The drive out was fine. I listened to music and got a little nostalgic. And pretty soon I was at our new house.

James would be behind me by 10 minutes. But by then I had already said hello to Victoria and Daisy and brought both boxes inside. Including the very heavy box with my new desk in it.

I even was able to end over and roll it and get it upstairs to the bedroom.

James came in right after I got it upstairs. And they were very surprised. I was so happy to see them. They have a little cough but were in good spirits. And would pretty quickly head back to the apartment to get some boxes.

While they were gone I just built and built. I was finishing up the desk as they texted me to let me know they accidently locked themselves out of the apartment. Ugh oh. But thankfully someone was able to let them in and they were back on track. And would be back to me very soon. And by the time they got back here I had finishes the desk! Amazing! I was so proud of myself.

It's a little taller then I thought so someday I may chop the legs down. But it's a beautiful color and I'm excited to have it all set up.

When James got back they muscled everything into the house. And while they were making their trips we were able to meet our neighbor on the other side. George! Seems like a lovely man. A little older then us. But seems friendly. Welcomed us to the neighborhood. I'm glad we have nice people around us.

While James got eveything inside I moved things to their proper rooms. James would trip on the stairs inside but they did not get hurt thankfully.

We would continue to have a productive evening. James would finish installing the kitchen floor. And I would help move the fridge so they could do the underneath part and it honestly looks amazing. We are going to get some floor edging like toy have in a doorway to make the ends look more finished but I think it was such a good choice and James did such a good job.

I would work on putting the brass knobs on the cabinets. I need some different bolts for 3 of them but all the others are replaced now and I love them. And we would get both medicine cabinets installed. With drywall anchors and everything. I'm very proud of all the work we are going even if it's a little exhausting.

James is finishing up with the bathroom tiles now. But we need another box. I accidently only bought 1 when I meant to get two. So we will have that tomorrow.

We will go home soon and get some rest. Tomorrow is another day at work. And then my vacation starts! I am very excited for Disney. I hope it's a really fun trip.

I hope you all have a great night and I hope you sleep well. Take care of yourselves. Goodnight!

[draiochteve]

A personal update post?

I’m doing a throwback here doing an update personal blog post. Kinda nostalgic doing this again after all this time away from tumblr, but I think it’s good to bring these thoughts into more of a public existence for historic sake. This existed and witnesses saw it. If you follow me on tumblr, a lot of this will be repeats with extra details and rambling, but there will be some new. Life is taking another shift. I’ve been hired back where I once worked, but now under sales until I get shifted to office management. How do I feel about it? Lukewarm. The money is always nice and this time the job isn’t destroying me physically. Mentally? Up in the air. Dealing with entitled customers and my anxiety with it all is a lot, but I am hoping with time I’ll adjust like it’s nothing. And with the end goal being no longer in sales, but desk work management type stuff, I’ll suffer it. It’s clear I’m heavily needed and wanted so I’m considered of value. Thankfully, I’ve learned to throw that around for leverage to set boundaries and so far they are being respected. Fingers crossed. The days are counting down until my wedding to my partner of 8 years. September 30th of next year and he’ll be living here by August at the latest. I still feel guilty dragging him out across the country to start our lives proper, but with all the circumstances, this is the best shot we have to finally getting me out of this shitty state and away from all my family. Am I taking advantage of the low ass rent and the goodwill of my family to get the best shot I have to get the best slingshot away from them I can? Yes. And while I know it’ll cause a shitshow when all gets revealed, after all they’ve put me through I consider this repayment. So where am I creatively? The best way to describe it is semi-dormant. It’s all there, lying underneath sediment of depression, exhaustion, and suffocation from my environment and my own fuck ups. I’ve self-sabotaged knowingly and unknowingly which paired with all my usual has really fucked me over. But I’ve making some changes to fuel my creativity and hopefully bear fruit once the holidays pass. For starters, I’m abandoning all word counting. When my therapist initially suggested it, she was trying to get me to see how every little bit I did contributed and meant something. And she wanted me to recognize just how much I was creating that I myself discounted. It’s helped me recognize just the sheer volume I’ve written since diving back into fic and that is something to be proud of. However, that has transformed from recognition of my hard work to competing with myself. I began beating myself up for not reaching arbitrary goals and forced myself to write a lot that I wasn’t happy with just to meet numbers. And for some people that works, but not for me. So instead, I’ve invested in a secure journal with a padlock and have begun tracking ideas instead that I wish to bring to life in some way. Stories exist in as many or as few words as they need. No word count can reasonably predict that that will be. I’ve begun working on the journal slowly, filling it with concepts and ideas I plan to write and ones I already have because it’s important to recognize my accomplishments. I have published a lot and I should be proud of that. There’s over 32 JaphRaha stories I intend to tell and well over 20+ more for other pairings, fandoms, characters, etc even if just one offs to fill a void for myself in regards to content. (I’m not going to lie, the bulk are pegging femdom fics. I’m sorry but too many characters out there deserve a good railing via the strap and NO ONE ELSE IS DOING IT so I suppose it falls to me.) Perhaps in a future post I’ll post pictures of my pages and plans, but most likely not. Just know they are plentiful and many I have yet to speak to others besides ramble’s in friend’s DMs. I have many years of my life left in me and these will be part of my legacy. Slowly but surely, they will come. And following the train of thought about legacies and leaving something for the world, I’ve been pondering greatly again about all my original fiction. I keep it under lock and key because they are born purely from myself and my experiences, but there will come a time I need to bring them to life. I’ve felt more confident and sure of myself about it than I have in years. There’s a clear desire for what I write and what I intend to make. Will I self publish? I’m not sure. A lot of the publishing world is fucked especially when it comes to sapphic stories which is a chunk of what I’m working on. Dare I brave it? I might be stubborn enough to bash some agents over the head about it, but otherwise I’m okay self publishing. Gotta think up a pen name though. Who should I be? What kind of enigmatic author will I become to the masses? Whoever I am, I’m sure y’all will be able to spot me like a volcano in the sea. Still working on mastering bookbinding for my own selfish desires binding my favorite fics, rebinding my fav books, and possibly binding my own stories. I still plan to make a zine once I’m settled and moved out and have finished the remaining pre 5.3 stories I have on my priority list. About 5 more to go? Plus a planned bonus story for the zine. Part of the project is also rewriting/re-editing some of my older JaphRaha fics so I’ll need to take some time for that. Otherwise, I’m looking forward to FINALLY doing that passion project and having it in my hands. Don’t worry, everything will be uploaded to Ao3 in a single multichaptered work eventually. But I still love the idea of it existing in the physical realm. The next year is going to be a big change for me. And it will end with me finally out of my parent’s house and away from a lot of the shit I get subjected to. Following it, I’m suppose to undergo a lot of new evaluations from my doctor and a psychiatrist (been putting it off until I’m out of here bc ofc my depression is through the roof atm) and make some plans to go from there. It’s scary, but maybe I’ll finally get proper answers. Idk how much I’ll change as a person being away as well. A lot of unknowns that I should have known a long time ago. So, here’s to the future. To the friends I’ve made and still keep near and dear who support me and my ridiculous JaphRaha rambles in their DMs. To new readers and old that I’m grateful are listening to me in the void. To bettering myself and finally getting some wiggle room to grow bigger than I ever thought possible. A lot of you have been here with my struggles and triumphs. And I hope to make everyone proud that I’ve finally escaped and am thriving. One step at a time. And every step is worth it.

[lostonesart]

Miraculous Abel

(you'll need an account to read it on AO3 cuz of AI scraping the site.)

but here's the first actual chapter(after 2 chapters of rule setting and setting changes)

CH1: The New Kid

I watch the French countryside roll by as I hold the small, simple wooden box in my lap; a goodbye gift from mom and dad for me moving to Paris with my aunt Riley. In it was a silver ring with a fair-sized clear gem set in it.

“Aunt Riley?” I turn to look at her while she drives.

“Yeah, Little Man?” My aunt asks and her head turns towards me but her eyes never leave the road. She was a few years older than my mom. She was brunette and had hazel eyes. Growing up, I didn't really see her often since she lived so far away. But now I'll be living with her.

"I'm… scared… What if I mess up something simple and look like an idiot in front of everyone? What if they make fun of me?"

"Well…” She pauses for a moment. “Then you'll know who the bad friends are. You remember what me and your mom keep telling you, yeah?" She says as more buildings begin to roll by.

"... 'Those who mind don't matter, those who matter don't mind.'"

“Exactly!” She nudges my shoulder with her elbow, a wide grin on her face. “Say… How’s about after we settle in, we run out and get you some hair dye? You got an awful lot of blond showing.” Ruffling my hair as she spoke about it. I simply nod and go back to watching as we drive deeper into the heart of Paris.

"... Can I go a bright pink this time?"

"Haha-HA! ‘Course, Little Man!" Aunt Riley cheers.

— Agreste Manor

“Natalie, you said the camera I ordered for school arrived, yeah?” The young man asked excitedly as his Father's assistant organized the family's plans for the month.

“Yes, it's right here.” The woman pulled the box from under the desk, setting it aside for the man, and resumed her work. “If you're still thinking about what your first photo should be, might I suggest seeing your mother? I'm sure she'll have an idea for you.” Natalie continued as he was figuring out his new camera.

“Yeah! That's a great idea, Natalie!” Adrien chimed, gently tapping her arm to substitute for a hug before taking his camera upstairs.

-

Quietly, Adrien cracked open the door to his mother's room. He didn't want to wake her if she was asleep just to show her his new camera. He found her sitting in the window nook, watching outside. Inspired, Adrien aimed his camera and snapped a picture.

Hearing the shutter, his mother turned to see her son looking proud of himself.

“Hey, mon trésor. I see your camera finally arrived.” she giggled at her son's antics. She opened her arms and reached out for him silently requesting a hug, which he happily gave with a small squeeze. “Are you sure you still want to go to this school? I'm going to miss not having you around all day.” She said with a small pout as he pulled back to look at her.

“Yes, Maman. This school is number one in the arts, even compared to elite private schools.” He says as he double-checks the photo. “Plus, you know how much I've been working for this: convincing Father, getting that scholarship all on my own, building my portfolio…”

He looks at his mother's necklace, a cat-shaped pendant. She'd had it ever since he could remember, there were even pictures of him trying to teeth on it as a baby.

“I know, mon louloute. Don't mind me...” His mother laughs and ruffles his hair. “... You've grown up so quickly, I almost can't believe it's been 20 years already.” She says in a nostalgic voice.

“... You should get some rest, Maman.” Adrien gives her a bittersweet smile as she holds his arm to get up from the nook. Growing up, he knew how fragile his mother's health was and how she'd been getting worse in the last few years.

-

After helping his mother to bed, he retreated to his room to upload his first photo to his computer.

[hastings727]

Existential nostalgia

I'd like to get over being nostalgic, please.

I struggle to keep things out of my thoughts, I always have. My former therapist told me it was due to OCD. I don't know if shes right, but I exist this way.

And especially on days off from work, when the house is empty and its just me and the pets, I feel so utterly alone. My kids are school, my wife at work. Here I sit, unable to do anything besides sit on my computer. The tv in our living room is half broken, and the couch is disgusting and needs to be replaced (we finally ordered a new one). So I feel shackled to this desk, to the internet. I'd like nothing more than to go to other spaces in my house, in the area, to do things. But even when I feel well, I'll just sit here most days. Am I addicted to the internet? For literal years, since 06! I have been an internet nerd. But now that I'm older, I just feel anxious everytime I go on it. My eyes hurt, my neck hurts. I've done the correct things, better posture, resting my eyes. It doesn't work. Because I need new glasses. My anxiety doesn't go away because I need medical intervention for it, at this point. I've lived with it all my life, along with any potential AUDHD symptoms that not even my former therapist would nail down.

I honestly just want to live. I'm so tired of being on the edges. I'm so tired of going to take a shower and finding out my apartment complex is "fixing the plumbing" for the upteenth time without notifying us. My neck is killing me because I slept wrong. And our mattress is easily 2-3 years old, and we can't afford to replace it. My GERD is flairing up again and I had to wait until today to buy prilosec because money issues. Even if I worked full time, it would amount to a pittance compared to our bills. I appreciate my family paying our rent, but even with that, we're struggling. I haven't had a medical check up since I was in high school, not to mention zero dental check ups either. I never learned how to sign up for this stuff, so even when I had insurance available, I never did it. I'd just forget it, tbh.

I'm glad I started community college, I'm glad I took these videography classes. I've made things that I'm proud of, and I'm excited to make even more stuff. It's never too late, but good god does it feel like it is. The world feels like its ending every few days, prices of everything constantly growing and growing as wages keep staying the same.

I can't go back 10, 20 years ago and do all the correct things I was supposed to do. I should have tried in school, I should have taken the SAT, I should have gone to community college. I didn't know how to do those things, and my mother and stepdads failing marriage meant that I had zero help while they squabbled. Years later my mother blames me for those failures instead of herself. Maybe she has a point, I was 18, I was an "adult". But instead of helping me with those problems, as soon as I didn't find a job or go to school, I was sent down to Florida to live with my dad. I had spent my entire life in Pittsburgh PA only for her to shunt me down to my dad. Once I was 18, the child support payments were gone. So I guess I was just a money-sucking vacuum to her.

Whats all this sad personal stuff got to do with existential nostalgia? Because on days like this I end up thinking about the past. I think about how I wish I could go back and make the *right* decisions. I watch old stuff, I watch recaps of decades, I look at old pictures and feel sad. Which is okay! If it wasn't a habit. If it didn't occupy my thoughts constantly, especially when i feel pretty bad.

Not only all that, but I feel *guilt* for doing so. I have some of the worst FOMO about so many things. I am constantly trying to keep up with new releases on things I like, and I feel guilty when I forget about an artist I like, I feel guilty when I started rationing out my social media time, I feel guilty for not paying *enough attention* to things. Those thoughts are the worst, it fuels my anxiety and makes me feel so awful, but I can't get them to leave.

I just want to be happy. But my own failures in the past and present are hampering my future, along with the state of the world.

[watchmegetobsessed]

TO LOVE AND BE LOVED - Part One (Harry Styles)

a/n: oh my god i am sooo thankful for the love the masterlist got with just so little info about the story! it means so much to me and i really hope i won’t disappoint you with this story! i was planning to post the first part on tuesday but i got excited bc of all the feedback and reactions and decided to start earlier, so here it is, part one of TLABL, a story im kind of proud of and very happy to share! please drop by my ask box or leave your thoughts on the story, i would love to hear everything from you guys!

pairing: CEO!Dad!Harry X Reader

warning: mentions of death, cheating and divorce

word count: 11.2k

SERIES MASTERPOST masterlist

“I hope you realize this holds nothing against you, we all love and appreciate you and your work, but we had to face some unexpected problems this past year.”

You sit in front of Claire, your boss completely dumbfounded, not even comprehending what she is saying completely. You came to work this morning absolutely oblivious that today is going to be your last day of work at the daycare you’ve been working at for over two years now.

“I’m sorry, but last time you let us in on the budget you didn’t bring up any complication that might have indicated someone could lose their job, so what possible problem could have come up so abruptly?” you ask with a shocked and nervous chuckle. Part of you kind of hopes this is just some stupid joke she is playing on you, but Claire is not one to make games out of such serious things. Letting out a tired sigh she pushes her reading glasses up to the top of her head into her carefully curled hair.

“Look, I’m really trying not to make a big deal out of it, but we had to make some cuts on the budget. The kitchen and gymnasium renovation was completely unplanned and it kicked us in the butt. We are making some changes about the groups this year and it was made that it can be solved with one less person on the team. I’m sorry it had to be you, but the decision had to be made.”

“But why me?” you press. “There are two people who have been working for a shorter period of time here, didn’t I earn your trust during my time here?”

“It’s not about that, Y/N,” Claire shakes her head.

“Then what is this about?”

“If you are so keen on knowing, we’ve… received a few… complaints.” Your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline, this is the first time you’re hearing about it.

“Complaints?”

“Yes. Some parents are not quite the fan of the kind of mentality you are using while teaching the kids.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, feeling all the blood rushing out of your face. This is starting to get way too nasty. Claire pinches the bridge of her nose before leaning onto her desk, clasping her hands together.

“I know that you are quite the free spirit and want to teach the kids about openness and acceptance, but not everyone is as rainbow as you are. Some kids brought the word home about what kind of books you’ve been reading and we’ve gotten a few concerns about you basically promoting the LGBTQ community for the kids.”

“I’m not promoting, I’m trying to teach them to accept everyone just the way they are, how can that upset anyone?!”

“Well, it does. The committee had to make a decision on who we should let go and many agreed that it might be the safest decision to make it be… you.”

You’re about to faint. You are sure you are about to fall off this chair and just black out. How can someone get mad about you reading stories about acceptance and treating everyone equally? What kind of monster can see it as a bad thing? And now you are losing your job over such a stupid thing that you don’t even feel responsible for.

Though you’d love to stay and try to convince Claire to not let you go, you know the decision has been made and if you’re being honest, you don’t feel comfortable anymore working at a place where parents tell you off for teaching important values for their kids. Sadly, but you sign all paperwork about your immediate parting and you leave Claire’s office to pack your stuff.

“Miss Y/N! Miss Y/N!” Izzy, one of the sweetest girls in your group basically launches herself at you, smashing against your legs as she hugs you happily. “Do you want to see what I just painted?” She blinks up at you with her gorgeous green eyes and your heart breaks that you won’t get to see her again.

“Oh, Sweetie. I have to—you know what? Sure. Show me your painting,” you smile at her warmly. You can’t say no to her, not when this is the last time you get to see her.

As you’re cleaning out your locker in the break room, Heather walks in and stops in her tracks, seeing you with your gloomy face as you pack everything into a cardboard box.

“What the hell are you doing?” she questions right away. The two of you have known each other for years now, you did the same master’s programme and somehow ended up working here together, carrying on the friendship you’ve formed through your school years.

“I was… fired,” you sigh, wincing at the words.

“What?! Why?”

“Apparently, we are having some budget problems with all the renovations that was made recently and unbeknownst to me, some parents have been complaining about my openness with kids so I was the lucky one to part ways with.”

“That’s fucking bullshit! The kids adore you, how can someone complain about something like that?”

“Don’t know, ask them if you ever find out who they are,” you mumble under your breath as you shut the now empty locker closed. “I’m sorry we can’t carpool anymore,” you pout at her.

“No fucks given about that, what are you gonna do now?” she asks, seemingly very bummed at the news that you won’t be working at the same place now.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “I guess I’ll have to find something new if I don’t want to end up on the streets,” you mumble.

“Oh girl, I’m so sorry,” Heather sighs pulling you into a hug. “Why don’t we go out for drinks on Friday? Everything is on me!”

“Don’t act like I’m already broke, makes me feel like a loser.”

“Sorry,” she scowls. “Just want to brighten you up a little. Meet me at seven at that Mexican place, how does that sound?”

“Stuffing my face with nachos and tequila? Sounds like the best plan I could wish for.”

You waste no time arriving home after your worst day at work. You jump right into the job ads, looking for basically anything that might help you out of this impossible situation. Sending your resume to as many places as possible, you get a few callbacks the next few days, but you only make it to one interview on Friday and that doesn’t go well either. The man who calls in for an open position at a private kindergarten turns out to be a total snob and he doesn’t find your free spirit too fitting with the profile of his institution so you get rejected at the end of the interview.

You head out to meet Heather feeling like shit. You’ve been unemployed for four days, but it’s already breaking your spirits.

“You know what? Clair is a bitch for giving in to the complaints,” Heather slams her fourth shot glass on the table with a grimace. “She should have defended you!”

“I’m sure she just didn’t want to get into any disagreement. Some of the parents donate great amounts to the school and Claire would never risk losing that money,” you sigh rolling your eyes.

“Okay, but she is being very… not inclusive,” she narrows her eyes. “Firing someone for teaching the kids openness? Bullshit.”

“I’m just sad I don’t get to see the kids anymore. They really grew close to my heart.”

“The little fuckers can be so damn cute, almost make me want to have one.” Heather sighs, downing another shot before pulling the nachos closer to her. You laugh at her vulgar reaction, she has always had quite a dirty mouth but somehow she controls herself well around the kids. “How has the job hunting been?”

“Horrible,” you growl in frustration. There are not many that offer a good paycheck and the few that does are these posh places that expect you to treat the kids like they are made out of gold which is ridiculous. That’s not how you raise a kid!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sure something will come up soon. Why don’t you look into nanny jobs, have you thought about that?”

“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, popping some chips into your mouth.

“A lot of people prefer having nannies for their little children, some even want them to move in. My brother’s ex-girlfriend was a live-in nanny for about two years and she earned a shit ton of money, because she didn’t have to pay rent and a good chunk of the food, because the parents just treated her like part of the family and bought groceries for five people instead of four.”

“I’m not sure I’m cut out for that kind of stuff.”

“What, earning money?” Heather scoffs.

“No, living with a stranger.”

“Most of the time the nanny gets like a separated place so it wouldn’t be that bad, but you know what’s good for you. It was just an idea,” she shrugs.

Soon enough you drop any work talk not wanting to ruin the mood. You enjoy some time away from the stress of job hunting and you’re just trying to have fun with your best friend. You start talking about nostalgic memories from college and end up looking up people you graduated with on social media, checking out what they’ve been up to in the past years.

“Alright, I’m gonna go to the restroom quickly, watch out for my drink,” you announce pushing your drink closer to Heather as you head towards the restrooms.

There’s a bit of a line so you stand behind two girls chatting about some cute guy they just met and leaning against the wall you close your eyes for a moment, feeling the drinks hitting you in the head. You’re not used to drinking, haven’t really had the time to get drunk too much lately and it’s saddening to think that now that you’re unemployed, you could black out every day, you wouldn’t have anywhere to show up in the morning.

Getting deep in your thoughts you almost don’t even notice that your phone is buzzing in your pocket. When you finally realize you pull it out of your back pocket and look down at the unknown number with a scowl. You quickly leave your spot in the line and rush out to hear something as you answer the call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, I hope I’m not calling at an inconvenient time, I’m Harry Styles and I’m looking to talk to Y/N Y/L/N?” you hear a thick British accent on the other end of the line.

“This is her.”

“Great. Sorry for the late call, I’m Isabelle’s father.”

“Isabelle?” you ask in confusion, the names not really clicking in your head thanks to the shots you’ve been taking.

“Isabelle Styles? Izzy?”

“Oh! Yes! Sorry, yeah. Mr. Styles, what can I help you with?” you ask, not sure why Izzy’s dad would be calling you.

“Well I just recently learned from my daughter that you’re not working at the daycare any longer?” “Uh, yeah. Unfortunately I was fired this Monday…” you awkwardly answer.

“I’m sorry about that. Izzy has been really sad about it, I wanted to ask if you’ve found a new job already?”

“Not yet, I’ve been looking but I haven’t had much luck yet,” you confess.

“In that case I have an offer to make,” he firmly continues and you perk up at his words. “I’ve been thinking about pulling Izzy out of daycare, but I didn’t want to do it until I found someone to take good care of her. You’ve been her absolute favorite and she’s been devastated since you’ve been gone. If you’re up for a job of this kind, I would like to offer you a spot as Izzy’s nanny.”

“Oh!” is all you react, completely not expecting this call.

“I know there are a lot to discuss, but if you’re interested, I would be more than happy to have a chat with you sometime this weekend? To go over the details and see if we can make it work.”

“I, uh… Um, yeah. We can meet, that sounds good. When would it be good for you?”

“How about tomorrow afternoon?”

“That can work.”

“Amazing!” he beams. “I’ll send you the address through text if that’s alright for you.”

“Yeah, of course. When should I be there?”

“Would three o’clock suit you?”

“Absolutely,” you nod, stunned at the turn of events.

“Great, thank you so much, and once again, sorry to bother you on your Friday evening. Looking forward to see you tomorrow!”

“Thank you, Mr. Styles, see you soon!”

You get back in line at the bathroom and then make your way back to the table where Heather gives you a puzzled look.

“Did you take a massive shit or something?” she jokes as you take your seat and stare back at her, still in shock.

“No, I had a very interesting call, actually.”

“With who?”

“Um, Izzy Styles’ dad just called and offered me a job as her nanny.”

Heather almost chokes on her drink, coughing at the news. You hand her a napkin as she dries her chin off from her cocktail.

“Harry Styles wants you to be the nanny of his daughter?” she gasps.

“You know Izzy’s dad?”

“Y/N, everyone knows him! He is the sexiest man to walk this planet and not to mention that he is like stupidly rich! Have you not seen him yet?”

“Not really,” you shrug. “Izzy was picked up by an old woman most of the times, I guess I never worked when her dad came for her.”

“That explains why you’re not squirming already,” she scoffs. “That man is like… crazy hot, I’m telling you. I bumped into him one morning when I guess he was dropping Izzy off, the way he said ‘Pardon me, Darling’ made my knees shake,” she tells you, faking an accent that’s nowhere near what Mr. Styles sounded like on the phone.

“Well, I guess I’ll see him for myself. I’m meeting him tomorrow to discuss details,” you shrug and Heather slams her hand on the table.

“Oh my God! You’re gonna work for Harry Fucking Styles! Get ready because your panties will be soaking wet all the time,” she laughs like a hyena.

“Heather, stop!” you shake your head laughing too.

Following Mr. Styles’ call you decide to cut the night shorter than you intended, not wanting to look absolutely wasted when you meet him. Arriving home to your small, one bedroom apartment you take a quick shower before climbing to bed, staring up at the ceiling, trying to collect your thoughts. You told Heather you’re not willing to do the whole live-in nanny thing and Mr. Styles might not even want you to live with them, but now that the option is there, you realize it might not be the worst case scenario. Especially since you’re not really swimming in other job offers and you are in desperate need of anything at this point.

Despite having consumed quite some alcohol the previous night, you wake up at a reasonable hour in the morning, finding a text from Mr. Styles about the address you’d have to be going in the afternoon. You make a quick trip to the grocery store and do some chores before you start getting ready for the meeting. You opt for a simple black dress that reaches your knees and pair it with a little funkier, flower printed blazer to bring some color into the outfit.

Punching the address into the GPS you see that it’s taking you to the outer skirt of the city to the neighborhood that’s known to have some quite luxurious estates and you immediately think back to what Heather said about him being ridiculously rich. Driving down the streets in your old Volkswagen you couldn’t stand out more at a place where at least three cars park on the driveways and one of them is a Ferrari or a Porsche.

There’s a massive security gate under the address that’s your destination and it’s left open so you can pull up to the driveway easily. You park next to a fucking Tesla, finding it extremely funny to see your car next to it, but it is what it is. Walking up to the front door you ring the bell as you take a look at the house that can easily considered to be a mansion. Guessing from the outside there are at least about five bedrooms in it and you can only imagine what other luxurious units are squeezed into it.

Soon enough the front door opens and you find yourself staring back at a breathtakingly gorgeous man, wearing a white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up and black suit pants, his chocolate curls falling to his forehead as his emerald eyes fall on you, a warm smile tugging on his lips.

Shit. Heather was fucking right, you think to yourself swallowing hard.

“Miss Y/L/N, it’s so nice to see you. I’m Harry, Izzy’s dad, come on in!” he invites you inside before a short handshake.

“Nice to meet you too, Mr. Styles.”

“Please, just call me Harry. I don’t like formalities at home,” he asks you as the two of you walk further inside until you arrive to what looks like a living room, but it’s actually the size of your apartment.

“Only if you call me Y/N,” you smile at him and he nods right away.

“Miss Y/N!” you hear a small voice call out and turning around you see Izzy running down the hallway until she throws herself against your legs.

“Oh, hello Sunshine!” you hum, squatting down so you can hug her.

“I missed you!” she pouts, rubbing her eyes.

“I missed you too,” you smile at her, caressing her soft cheeks before standing up. An older lady walks in, the one you’ve seen picking up Izzy. She approaches you with a friendly smile as she extends a hand towards you.

“Hi, I’m Ruth, it’s nice to meet you.” “Y/N, nice to meet you too.”

“Ruth, would you take Izzy outside while I talk to Miss—erm, Y/N here?” Harry requests. Ruth nods and taking Izzy’s hand she lures her outside to look for ladybugs in the backyard and that immediately catches her attention. The two of them leave through the sliding door, giving you and Harry privacy.

“Please, have a seat,” he gestures towards the sectional couch. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I’m good, thank you,” you smile at him as he sits in an armchair across you.

The interior of the house is quite cozy, kind of modern with a hint of vintage touches that make it less rigid, a pop of color showing at most corners so it’s not too monochrome. You quite like it.

“Y/N, I once again apologize for calling you at such an inappropriate hour, but I often work late and I wanted to get in touch with you as soon as possible upon hearing the news.”

“Don’t worry about it, I understand.”

“Isabelle mentioned it to me on Thursday that the other workers told her you no longer work at the daycare so I asked around a little yesterday and was informed that they let you go earlier in the week.”

“It was quite sudden for me as well,” you chuckle lightly, feeling a little anxious to talk about it.

“I know it’s not too appropriate, but I asked why they chose you to part ways with and I have to say it’s outraging that some parents are so ignorant and wayward. I’m really sorry this had to be the reason out of everything.”

“Thank you.” It actually feels nice that he thinks the same, this whole firing was ridiculous and you were losing hope in humanity, but Harry is now very much restoring it.

“Let me walk you through what the situation is here and what I was thinking about.” You nod and listen carefully. “I’m president of a record label and it consumes most of my time, I sometimes work sixty hours a week which I know is not ideal and healthy and I’m trying to change it, but it’s not an easy situation. I thought that putting Izzy into daycare was a good idea, but it’s been getting harder to work around her schedule as a single parent with so much work on my hands. Ruth is a family friend who has been helping tremendously with Izzy, but she is not getting any younger and she would like to retire fully and spend more time with her own grandkids. So I’ve been thinking about hiring a nanny for Izzy and try to make her days work around mine while I’m able to do that. She is going to start preschool in little over a year and I want to spend as much time with her as possible, but it’s not easy when the schedule depends on an institution. When she told me about your firing I had the thought that you might be interested in taking the spot as her nanny. She is obsessed with you, wouldn’t stop talking about what you do every day, and I might have also looked into your professional background. I like what I’ve seen and I’m very much into the way you’ve been dealing with the kids at the daycare. Openness is really important and I want Izzy to grow up in an environment that teaches her about being equal and supportive towards each other. I would be more than happy if you’d be the one taking care of Izzy while I’m not available.”

To say the east you’re stunned at how forward and open he was about the offer and his compliment about your professional background is quite flattering. You can tell he is doing an amazing job at raising Izzy as an open and accepting human, she was always one of the nicest and sweetest kids who always made sure to include all her peers in the games you played. And it’s obvious Harry is not just being a hypocrite, his tattooed arm, painted nails and ring clad fingers are not quite what you’d traditionally imagine a man like him wear, but he does it well and clearly doesn’t give a fuck what others might think about it.

Harry continues with how much he thought you’d be earning for the job and you almost choke on your own saliva. It’s almost three times as much as you’ve been earning at the daycare and you’d be able to save a good chunk every month which is quite amazing.

“I have to ask, were you thinking about a situation where I live with you or I’d have to be coming here every day?”

“Well, essentially it would be the easiest for everyone if you moved in. I have plenty of rooms you could choose from and you’d have access to everything else as well, of course, including the home gym, the pool, the sauna and the entertainment room. But I understand if you are not willing to make that commitment. If you choose to live here you wouldn’t be charged anything, naturally.”

This actually sounds like a dream, moving into this luxury mansion from your cramped little apartment and being able to save the money you’ve been paying on rent.

“And what would be the time management? If I moved in it would easily make me fall into a habit of always working, which is not quite ideal,” you point it out.

“Of course,” he nods. “I like to take care of her morning routine so you’d have to start around nine when I leave to the office. If we can make this deal working I’d like her to start taking some extra classes during the day, moving her activities earlier in the day so her afternoons would be free. She takes piano lessons on Mondays and Wednesdays, a swimming instructor comes here on Thursdays and she is taking French lessons every Tuesday and Friday. Everything takes place here, I would reschedule her activities to take place between nine and twelve. You wouldn’t have to worry about her during those times. You’d cover lunch time and then the afternoons. I try to get home between four and six and just work from home if it’s possible so I can be around her. You’d have to only help out whenever I can’t make it home in time I have urgent works that have to be done from home. We could have dinner time together and then her night time routine is my duty again. Ruth is willing to help me out on Saturdays and I spend Sundays with her strictly without any work distraction so you’d have the weekends off unless something comes up. In those cases I would check in with you beforehand and arrange it however it works best for you.”

You’re speechless for a moment. What he just shared doesn’t seem too bad, you might have to work a lot more, but being one on one with just one kid is much easier than dealing with fifteen of them at once. Not to mention that the money is still amazing compared to what you’d have to be doing.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, it’s an amazing offer. Izzy is such a sweet girl, I would be more than happy to take care of her.”

Harry smiles at you warmly, clearly proud of his daughter, as he should be.

“Can I ask for some time to think about it? It would be a huge commitment.” “Of course. Take your time and let me know whatever your decision is.”

“Thank you.”

Harry offers a quick tour in the house regardless, the kitchen is massive, they have a nice dining area with floor-to-ceiling windows looking out to the green slopes of the backyard that seems to be Izzy’s kingdom. She has a playhouse that could almost function as a real one, the pool is filled with floaties for her and she has her own playground further in the back with slides, monkey bars and a swing set. Your assumptions were almost right about the number of bedrooms. Beside Harry’s master and Izzy’s own room there’s one that’s been used by Ruth, one that’s for Harry’s mother and sister for whenever they are staying over and there are three additional rooms now serving as guest bedrooms, one of those would be turned into your room if you chose to move in. The gym seems better than the one you’ve been going whenever you felt like being a little active, the entertainment room has everything you could ever think about for a room this sort of and the sauna is already calling your name. Living and working here might actually feel like a vacation.

“Miss Y/N! Look what I found!” Izzy runs up to you when you and Harry step out to the backyard, holding her pointing finger up. A ladybug is wandering around her tiny finger, not even bothering with the amazed girl that’s inspecting it.

“Wow! How many dots do you see on it?” you ask and she knits her eyebrows together, counting the black dots.

“Five!”

“Yes, good job!” you ruffle her curls as she smiles up at you proudly. She really is an angel, you’ve grown to like her a lot and you would be lying if you said you didn’t get emotional over thinking about never seeing her again. Being able to take care of her and give her the best possible childhood would be such a dream and the chance to do that is right in front of you.

“I’ll be waiting for your call, Y/N,” Harry smiles at you walking you towards the front door.

“Harry, I don’t think you need to do that,” you speak up and see his face fall, he obviously took it the wrong way, thinking that you want to say no to his offer.

“Oh…”

“It’s not that,” you chuckle softly. “I would love to take the job. And if you’re still okay with that, I’d like to move in, it would make everything just so much easier.”

You watch as his expression changes from disappointed to hopeful as he cracks a smile nodding.

“Yeah, the offer is still there. When do you think you can start?”

“How soon do you want to pull Izzy out of daycare?”

“As soon as possible. If I have to I can go in on Monday and do all the paperwork. You could move in sometime during the week maybe?”

“I have to talk to my landlord about my lease, but I’m fine with moving in during the week,” you nod smiling and you can’t help but feel excited.

“That would be wonderful. Thank you so much. I’m looking forward to working with you.”

You discuss a few more details and then you head out, thinking about how the next time you’ll be coming here, you’ll be moving in.

“If this one doesn’t go to the donate box, I’m leaving right now.”

Heather holds up a pair of denim shorts, painted in the colors of the flag of the States. She holds it pinched between her index finger and thumb as if it was something nasty and disgusting

“You know I only bought that for that stupid frat party. I never wore that anywhere else, so you can put it into the donate box.”

“Thank God!” she groans and throws the shorts into said box.

It’s Sunday evening and your place looks like a warzone, boxes taking up the place everywhere as you’re packing your life up to officially move into the Styles mansion. You agreed with Harry to bring over a good chunk of your stuff on Monday and then settle in for real on Tuesday. He is pulling Izzy out of daycare first thing on Monday and you’d stay at home with her for the first time on Wednesday. It’s been a fast paced change, but you couldn’t care less. With the amount Harry is gonna pay you, you’ll be able to save up a good chunk every month, like you always wanted to.

As you finish putting your books away you reach the shelves that contain all your photo albums. Photography has been your passion for a long time. It started as a simple hobby sometime through your freshman year in high school, but in senior year, your photos filled the yearbook and you even did the design of it too. You’ve had a few gigs since then, some weddings and pregnancy shoots and you like to sell your photos individually as well. You wouldn’t have imagined how much a simple nature photo costs.

Flipping through the one on the top, you can’t help the bitter smile on your face as you see the photos from your brother’s 14th birthday three years ago. There are tons of family pictures with you, your brother Trevor and your parents, seemingly being all happy and joyful. Things were different back then and you didn’t see anything coming.

It’s past midnight by the time you more or less finish packing, you’ve filled three big boxes with things to donate so you have significantly less stuff to move to the Styles mansion in the morning. Heather spends the night, but leaves early in the morning since she needs to go to work. The moving van you rented out arrives a little after eleven and the two guys from the moving company helps you load it with about two thirds of your stuff. Harry is at work when you arrive and Izzy is still at the daycare, Ruth is the only one at home, she helps you out even though you tell her not to break a sweat over it.

“Let me help, makes me feel needed,” she chuckles sweetly when you try to get her to stop, but she insists on bringing in some smaller bags and boxes.

You’re still unpacking when Ruth arrives back with Izzy a little after four. You hear her little feet tapping against the floor as she runs down the hallway, bursting into your future room.

“Miss Y/N! You’re here!” she cheers, throwing herself into your arms as you sit on the floor, being the perfect level for the little girl.

“I am! How was your day, little Sunshine?”

“We finger painted and I made a painting for daddy, do you want to see it?”

“Of course!”

Izzy disappears to get her backpack from Ruth who is making her some snacks in the kitchen. She soon returns with her painting, presenting it to you proudly.

“Look! This is me and this is daddy!” she points at the two human-like figures, the only thing giving away who is who is that one of them is bigger than the other one. “And then this is mommy!” she then adds, pointing at a star in the upper corner of the painting and you freeze.

In the midst of everything, you didn’t even have the time to question why Harry is a single parent. To be honest your first guess would have been divorce, but Izzy’s painting is telling you something a lot more tragic.

“It’s beautiful,” you smile at her, trying to hide your surprise at the new information. “I’m sure he’ll love it.”

Ruth makes sure Izzy is busy while you finish up unpacking and when you’re about to be done, Harry arrives home. Approaching your room even though the door is open he knocks on the doorframe, catching your attention.

“Hello, just wanted to see how things are going. Do you need help with anything? I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to help with the boxes and all…”

“Hi! Oh don’t worry about that, I had plenty of help,” you shrug smiling. “Everything is going fine, thank you.”

“Great. I did all the paperwork today, tomorrow is going to be Izzy’s last day at daycare. You’re still up to start on Wednesday, right?”

“Yeah, of course. I only have a few things left at home so I’ll be all set by tomorrow.”

“Thank you so much,” he smiles warmly. “And thank you for being so quick about everything. It means a lot to me that I can spend more time with Izzy thanks to you. I really appreciate it.”

“I should be thanking you the opportunity. I wasn’t really drowning in the job offers,” you chuckle making him smile as well. “Please let me know if you want me to change anything, I have a plan I would like to go around with Izzy’s days, but of course, your word is the most important.”

“I trust you to take good care of her during the day. The only thing I want is to have her home when I get home. Ruth couldn’t always pick her up before and I really hated to do the extra trip and pick her up from daycare instead of coming straight home to be with her.”

“Understandable. I’ll make sure to plan accordingly,” you nod smiling.

“Y/N, I want you to feel home as much as possible. This is your place just as much as it is ours now. Izzy and I go grocery shopping every Sunday, it’s kind of a father-daughter thing we do every week. We keep a list on the fridge, feel free to add whatever you need and we’ll get it.”

You can’t help the smile that stretches across your lips, because this is such a sweet thing to do, when Harry could easily afford someone to do the work for him. Yet he still uses this time to be with his daughter.

“Yeah, sure, thank you!”

“I’ll get out of your hair now. Would you like to stay for dinner?”

“Oh, no, but thank you. I still have some things to take care of before tomorrow.”

“Alright,” he nods before walking out. He leaves you thinking hard about him. You wonder what really happened to Izzy’s mom and if he is dating someone right now. A man like him is basically a dream to any woman, you doubt he is having a hard time finding a partner, but you haven’t seen any sign of another woman around the house. Guess you’ll have to wait and figure it out yourself.

The apartment is awfully empty on your last night here. When you moved in about a year ago you didn’t think you’d be moving into a mansion from here. You spend the evening cleaning out a bit so you leave the place in good condition. Your landlord was terribly nice about your early leave, you could easily agree that you’d pay for the two more weeks that’s left from the month and that would be all, no extra costs for moving out before your lease was up.

You’re cleaning off the kitchen counter when your phone starts ringing, it’s a video call from your brother.

“Hey there! What’s up?” you ask, propping up the phone on top of the microwave while you move around, doing your thing. Trevor seems to be lying in bed, a black hoodie covering his upper body.

“Hello, just wanted to see how the moving has gone today.”

Despite the ten year age gap between you and Trevor, your relationship couldn’t be better. Probably because you were old enough to see what a blessing a sibling really is when he was born.

“Everything went smoothly. I only have a few stuff to bring over, that can fit into my car tomorrow, so it’s fine.”

“Cool. How is the dude? What was his name again?”

“Harry. Harry Styles.” You see him pull his laptop to his lap and probably searches up Harry’s name before his eyes widen at the screen.

“This dude is big! He is the president of HES Records, they run some of the most popular singers these days.”

“Yeah? I was sure he is a big name judging from his mansion,” you chuckle.

“Have you looked him up yet?”

“Not really.” “Want me to read what’s here about him?”

“Sure,” you hum, continuing to clean while you listen to Trevor.

“Alright. Apparently he is thirty-one, took over the record company when he was just twenty-five because his father wanted to retire early. The number of talents working under the label has doubled since he has taken over and many of his clients have won Grammy Awards. Impressive,” he hums, scrolling down on whatever site he has just found. “He is known to be a private person, the last time he made an appearance… Oh shit…” Trevor breathes out and you turn to your phone with furrowed eyebrows.

“What?”

“Wow, this shit is heavy. It says the last time he made a public appearance was in 2017, not long before his wife was killed in a car accident.”

You freeze, feeling your stomach drop to the floor, immediately thinking back at Izzy’s painting of her family. It very much makes sense why she said the star was her mother, it must be the way Harry explained to her what happened to her mother.

“It happened in 2018, she wasn’t in the fault, a drunk driver ignored the red light and ran into her car at a crossroad. This is terrible, oh God.”

“Poor Izzy, she probably doesn’t even know what really happened.”

“Must have been hard on him, there’s not much about him since then.”

“Can’t blame him for not wanting to be in the spotlight after losing his wife.”

“Yeah.”

Trevor shows you a few pictures of him from years ago, he has always been handsome, but your favorites are the few from the times when he had long hair. He looked so different, like a whole other person, but still, he rocked it perfectly.

Then you show Trevor around in the empty apartment before loving to the couch, turning all your attention to him.

“How have things been?” you ask with a sigh. Trevor purses his lips and shrugs.

“Other than the constant screaming matches on the phone and endless fights every time dad comes over for more of his stuff? Everything is rainbows and butterflies.”

“Is it really that bad?” you scowl.

“It’s like they never run out of stuff to throw at each other, but I feel like this much couldn’t happen even in their twenty-eight years together,” he scoffs making you chuckle.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck in the middle of all that.”

“It’s like payback,” he hums and you give him a puzzled look. “You had it bad growing up for being the surprise baby, making them teen parents. Then I came at a reasonable time, they already knew the drill, but now that you’re out of the house I’m getting all the shit, having to deal with their divorce.”

“I’m really sorry, Trev,” you sigh, feeling guilty that he is all alone at home.

“It’s fine, I don’t blame you,” he shrugs. “But you could make it better if you asked your millionaire boss if I could hang out at his house sometimes.” He grins at you slyly and you roll your eyes. Of course he is already thinking about using you for his own good!

“I don’t want to push the boundaries just yet, but I’ll see what I can do.”

You talk a little more about school and what he’s been up to with his friends before ending the call. You take a shower and go to bed right away, feeling extremely worn out from all the packing you’ve done through the day.

The next day you pack the remainder of your stuff into your car and then your landlord comes over to do a checkup, though he fully trusts you took good care of the place.

“Again, thank you for your understanding, I didn’t plan to leave so early, but it just kinda came up,” you tell him, handing him over your keys.

“Don’t worry about it. I hope your new place will treat you right,” he smiles kindly at you.

You chat a little longer before you leave and head over to your new home. Once again, Ruth is the only one home and being the angel that she is, she helps you to carry your stuff up from the car before leaving to get Izzy from daycare. Since there’s not much left to unpack you finish quite fast, leaving you some extra time alone in the house. Walking around you try to learn your way around, still finding it a bit of a maze. You find Harry’s home office’s door open and after a bit of hesitation you step inside, just taking a look around. Yeah, it’s kind of a nosy thing to do, but you couldn’t help yourself.

His space is quite clear, he keeps his stuff neatly organized. Certificates and plaques are hung up on the wall, showing off his many successes in the business. There’s a huge bookcase near his desk and there you see some family photos… ones that include his late wife as well.

She was beautiful. There’s a picture of the three of them in the hospital from the day Izzy was born, Harry has an arm around his wife’s shoulders who is holding baby Izzy, both of them radiating happiness as they just become parents. Your heart breaks when you see the photo next to it, it’s just Harry and her in Paris, the Eiffel tower standing tall behind them as they are grinning widely at each other, foreheads touching. Harry has his arms wrapped around her slim figure while she is hugging his neck. They look so happy and in love, like they were always meant to be with each other. Knowing what tragedy hit them is just hard to process even for you, who never even met the woman.

You hear the front door open and Izzy is laughing at something, so you rush out before anyone could catch you snooping around.

“Hi Miss Y/N!” she chirps upon seeing you when you meet them in the living room.

“Izzy, you don’t have to call me Miss Y/N, Y/N is perfectly fine,” you smile at her, caressing her rosy cheeks.

“Okay. Ruth, can I please have some ice-cream?”

“I’m afraid we ran out of ice-cream, but I’ll put it on your grocery list,” Ruth tells her, a pout tugging on Izzy’s lips.

“How about this: I’m gonna make a delicious smoothie, that’s almost like melted ice-cream, would you like some?” you offer and her eyes brighten up immediately, nodding right away.

While Ruth puts away Izzy’s things they brought home from daycare, while the two of you move to the kitchen to make the smoothie together. You find some frozen berries in the freezer and pair them with bananas, putting them all into the blender with oatmilk, blending it all together.

“How is it?” you ask Izzy, who is sitting on top of the counter, tasting the pink smoothie that leaves a cute little mustache above her cherry lips.

“I like it!” she smiles, scrunching her nose.

“We can make it some other time then,” you smile, drinking up your portion.

Izzy is dancing around the kitchen, babbling about her last day at daycare while you clean the glasses and the blender when Harry arrives. He is wearing a baby blue suit with a crispy dress shirt underneath, looking fashionable but still business appropriate at the same time.

“Daddy!” Izzy launches towards her daddy, who catches her, throwing her into the air before holding her in his arms, joining you in the kitchen.

“Hey baby. How was your day?”

“Good, all my friends hugged me but I told them we would meet in the park.”

“That’s right, and I have the number of all your friends’ parents, we can have playdates with them whenever you want to,” he smiles before his eyes meet yours. “Hi Y/N, everything went well with the rest of your moving?”

“Yeah, I’m all set,” you smile back at him.

“That’s great. I have a few calls to make, but I’ll be done in thirty probably. Would you mind looking out for Izzy in the meanwhile?”

“Of course. She promised me to take me around her room, so we could do that, what do you say?” you ask the little girl who nods in excitement.

Harry disappears in his office and Izzy pulls you to her room, showing you just about every toy she owns. Her room is a typical girl’s room, the walls are painted a light pink color, her bedframe resembles a castle and she has a dollhouse as big as your previous bathroom. Harry clearly spoils her rotten, but what you noticed is that she is not one of those annoying bratty only children who can’t take no. She was clearly taught how to behave and always listen to the adults.

While Izzy is putting her stuffed animals away after introducing you to all of them, you spot a photo frame near her bed, decorated with macaroni. You remember when you all did that together at daycare and now you get to see the photo that ended up behind the glass.

It’s a photo of Izzy and her mother, she was just a baby and doing quick math in your head you realize it must have been not long before her accident, might even be the last picture taken of the two of them. Her mom is smiling at the camera while Izzy is sleeping in her arms peacefully. Izzy looked a lot like her when she was a baby, the bridge of her nose and her lips resembled her mother’s, though now she appears to take more after her dad with her chocolate curls and piercing green eyes.

“That’s my mommy,” she tells you when she sees you looking at the photo.

“It’s a nice picture,” you smile at her, trying your best to hide how heartbroken you feel even just looking at the photo.

“Daddy said she had to go up to the sky, but she is watching me from there,” she explains, clearly not entirely sure what it means, but you can tell she misses her. “Daddy said she is living between the stars now and that she loves me very much.” You need to fight your tears back at her words.

“I’m sure of that too,” you breathe out smiling at her.

“Izzy, do you want to help me make dinner?” Harry walks in smiling, though it disappears for a moment when he sees the two of you looking at the photo of his wife, but he is quick to control himself.

“Yes! What are we making?” she runs over to him, jumping up and down.

“Uh, chicken and veggies.”

You step away from the photo, pretending like nothing just happened. You’re dying to discuss it with Harry, hear him talk about it, but you won’t push him. If he wants to share it, he’ll come to you.

“Alright, come on then,” he smiles down at her. “Thank you for watching her, I’ll take over from here. Food will be ready in about an hour, Ruth is staying with us as well,” he informs you.

“Great, I’ll… I’ll be in my room,” you nod.

The first two weeks on the job brush past smoothly. It takes you some time to get used to your new home, but taking care of Izzy doesn’t feel like work, so you’re feeling amazing in your new job. You easily fall into a schedule with her.

The mornings are always Harry’s duty. He wakes her up around seven-thirty, makes her breakfast and dresses her for the day before he leaves around nine. Thanks to this habit of his, you’re able to sleep in until eight, leaving you plenty of time to get ready for your day with Izzy before Harry has to leave. Depending on the weather, the two of you then either take over the back yard or move to her room for some play time before her class of the day starts in the noon. Piano with Rosaline on Mondays and Wednesdays, French lesson with Lyon on Tuesdays and Fridays and then Izzy’s favorite on Thursdays, swimming class with Kitty.

Izzy loves to help in the kitchen so you usually make lunch together. Once her tummy is full she takes a nap before you sit down to learn something new every day. You’ve been teaching her the numbers and the alphabet, or some days you just talk about anything that interests her and learn at least two things she hasn’t know yet, all through games so she doesn’t even realize what you’re doing. You’re usually done by around three, leaving you time to take a visit to the park, if Harry is not planning to take her himself later that day.

You’re strictly home by four, unless it’s Tuesday when she has her dance class until five. Those days you drive her to her class, run some quick errands and pick her up. Harry usually uses his extra time in the office on these days, but he is always home by six to have dinner together with his daughter.

Once Harry is home you’re off duty, though you like to stay close, not just in case something comes up for Harry, but because you genuinely like spending time with Izzy and Harry, seeing them interacting.

Harry sometimes has to work on Saturdays as well, but just as he promised Ruth is always here to take over duty on those days, leaving you free for the whole weekend. It’s been working perfectly for you and those very few concerns you had about moving in dissolve quite fast as soon as you start working.

Though it’s been pretty clear to you before, you now one hundred percent sure that Harry is living for his daughter. She is always a priority, he doesn’t hesitate to decline any work calls he gets in the evenings if Izzy needs him, if she is a little fussy and wants her daddy’s attention or when they are in the middle of a game. He is clearly trying to keep a balance between his work and role as a father and from what you’ve seen, it seems like he is doing an amazing job in that. However you haven’t learned much else about him. He is all friendly towards you, but makes sure to keep it business casual, not quite keen on getting to know each other better as just friends, maybe.

A Friday afternoon you’re having a little tea party in the backyard with Izzy when Harry arrives home, but this time, he is not alone. Through the sliding door you spot him with a blonde guy who is talking very articulately as Harry is typing on his phone. The man looks about Harry’s age, but you can’t tell if he is a friend or a business partner, but if Harry brought him home, he is more likely to be a friend of his.

“Uncle Niall!” Izzy gasps when he spots the man through the glass and abandoning the tea party, she starts running towards the door. The man spots her and slides the door open grinning widely before she jumps into his arms.

“Little bugger! How are ya?” the man laughs, holding Izzy in a tight hug before leaning back to take a good look at her. You notice his thick Irish accent and it suits his appearance quite well. You head inside as well, in case Harry needs Izzy busy for a little longer, though he doesn’t mind having her around, kissing the top of her head before finishing up whatever he was doing on his phone, watching Niall and Izzy smiling.

“I’m having a tea party with Y/N, wanna join?” Izzy invites the man, who then looks at you for the first time, smiling widely.

“Hi, I’m Y/N, Izzy’s new nanny,” you introduce yourself, holding out a hand that he shakes, keeping Izzy in his other arm without a problem.

“Nice to meet ya, I’m Niall.”

“Y/N, Niall is an old friend of mine. He is joining us for dinner, hope you don’t mind,” Harry informs you and you find it funny how he is kind of asking for your approval when it’s his house.

“Not at all.”

“Harry has told me he hired a pair of new hands to help, but he didn’t mention it’s a stunning young woman!” Niall beams, making you blush right away.

“Ni, I would appreciate it if you didn’t try to pick up my daughter’s new nanny,” Harry warns him lightly, though there’s some firmness in his tone, not that it scares Niall in any way, he even winks at you.

“Oh come on, you can’t expect me not to flirt when you surround yourself with so many pretty women! First Ruth and now Y/N!”

You smile at him, something is telling you he wasn’t joking and he tried to flirt with Ruth as well. Harry just rolls his eyes at his friend, taking Izzy from him.

“Keep it in your pants, Niall,” Harry tells him and though it’s nothing vulgar, it catches Izzy’s attention.

“What should he keep in his pants?” she questions, making your and Harry’s eyes grow big right away. Luckily, Niall keeps his cool and takes care of the situation.

“My attitude, Sweetie. Your daddy is just jealous because I’m more handsome than he is,” he smirks at the little girl, successfully avoiding an awkward conversation about what it is that Niall should keep in his pants.

You smile at his reply, even though you are not that sure about the comparison he just made between himself and Harry.

“Izzy, do you want to continue the tea party?” you ask her and even though just a minute ago she was inviting Niall to join her, now she shakes her head no. “Alright, I’ll pack it up then.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’ll do it, right Izzy? She brought it all out, she is going to be the one packing it up,” Harry reminds her and she nods.

The two of them move outside to put her little tea set back into the basket she keeps it in, leaving you and Niall alone.

“So Y/N, how did you end up here?”

“I was working at Izzy’s daycare, but they sent me away not long ago. Then Harry contacted me and offered the job which was a lifesaver, truly.”

“That’s great! Well, not that you got fired, but that you ended up here. I know it means a lot for Harry that he can spend more time with Izzy, you’re making everything a lot easier for him.” Niall walks over into the kitchen and grabs a water for himself as he leans against the counter. “I can see that he is a lot more relaxed now already.”

“Really?” you ask, surprised.

“Yeah. I know he always used to stress about picking Izzy up, or forgetting something the daycare asked for. Now he can make it all work just how he wants to, that fits him a lot more. It hasn’t been easy on him since Maggie’s death.”

This is the first time you hear anyone talk about Harry’s wife and now you just learned her name. Maggie.

“Being a single parents is never easy,” you add with a soft smile, not wanting to interrogate Niall about Maggie. It’s Harry’s place to tell you about her, if he wants to, of course.

Soon enough Izzy and Harry take over the kitchen, Niall helping them this time and you leave them alone, taking some time for yourself in your room. Later you go out to check if there’s anything you could help with, Harry asks you to set the table as he finishes up the cooking.

“So, Y/N. Tell me a little bit about yourself!” Niall asks you over dinner.

“Um, what do you want to know?” you ask, feeling a little flustered to be in the spotlight.

“I don’t know, family, friends, hobbies?”

“Well, I have a younger brother, Trevor. He is seventeen and already taller than me.”

“Oh, that seems like a big age gap.”

“Ten years, to be exact,” you nod. “He was planned, I wasn’t,” you add with a soft chuckle. “But we have a great relationship, so it’s all good. We talk almost every day.”

“I’m sure you’ll get well along with Gemma then!” Niall beams, glancing at Harry.

“Gemma is my sister,” Harry explains. “Though she is not that much older than me.”

“But you can bond over being stuck with a younger brother who outgrew you,” Niall jokes making all three of you laugh.

All through dinner you realize how different Niall is from Harry, but in a good way. While Harry is more quiet and calm, Niall is kind of all over the place, buzzing and chatting every chance he got, but the two of them make a great pair, bringing what the other doesn’t have to the table.

After dinner you attempt to leave them again, but Niall makes you stay as they open a glass of wine. Harry puts on a movie for Izzy to keep her busy, giving the three of you a chance to sit out at the terrace from where you still can keep an eye on the little girl inside.

“Alright, Y/N. When are we going on our first date then?” Niall asks out of the blue, a cocky smile tugging on his lips.

“Niall, for fuck’s sake,” Harry breathes out as you let out an awkward chuckle.

“What? I think there’s some electricity going on between us.”

“I, uhh—I don’t…”

“Please don’t turn me down!” he sighs dramatically, making you smile.

“You’ve been great company, but I’m not sure we should go out,” you tell him. He huffs in disappointment, but it’s clear he didn’t take it to his heart.

“Is it because you’re taken? I didn’t even ask, are you dating anyone? You can’t be engaged, because I don’t see any rings,” he points out, nodding towards your naked fingers, however his words make you suck on your breath.

“I’m not engaged. Not anymore,” you admit and you watch their eyes go wide at the information.

“Wait, you’ve been engaged before?” Harry asks, clearly surprised, if not shocked.

“Yeah. For about four months,” you nod, running your tongue over your lips as you reach for your wine, taking a few large gulps.

“And what did the fucker do?” Niall bluntly questions, earning a look from Harry. “What? I’m just curious what twat it takes to lose a woman like her!”

“Maybe she doesn’t want to talk about that,” Harry presses, but you shrug.

“It’s not a secret. We dated for about two years before he proposed. I said yes, started planning the wedding and everything, then found out that he had been cheating on me with his assistant for about a year. We broke up, simple as that. It’s in the past, happened a year ago.”

“That’s some next level asshole bullshit,” Niall shakes his head while Harry is just staring at you with an unreadable look before he turns his attention at his glass, still clearly deep in his thoughts and you wonder what he thinks of you now. Here is the loser who not only got cheated on, but lost her job, all of that just in one year.

Harry doesn’t react, and a moment later Izzy comes out because she is thirsty, so daddy duties call him away. Niall stays a little, but heads home soon as well.

“It was nice meeting you, Y/N. The date still stands though,” he smirks when he pulls back from the short hug he enveloped you in.

“Alright,” you chuckle, slowly getting used to his flirty act.

You was the wine glasses and head back to your room while Harry walks Niall out and then takes Izzy upstairs to give her a bath. You don’t cross paths until later when you leave your room, already in your pajama pants and an oversized t-shirt to grab some water for yourself and he walks out of Izzy’s room just then, probably done with putting her to sleep.

“I’m sorry if Niall made you uncomfortable, he didn’t mean to be rude or anything,” he apologizes as the two of you walk together.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you chuckle softly. “It was kind of a boost to my ego, if I’m being honest.”

Harry huffs with a smile and stops at the kitchen island, his fingers tapping on his lips as you grab yourself a bottled water.

“I’m… I’m sorry about… about what you told us earlier.”

Closing the fridge you look at him, seeing that he is kind of hesitant, like he is not sure he should have spoken up, but you appreciate the thought.

“It’s alright. Just water under the bridge,” you shrug.

“I just feel bad you had to go through that.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” you chuckle softly. “It sucked, yeah. I really thought I would live happily ever after with Keith, but instead I got a lesson.”

“A lesson?”

“When we broke up I was obviously on the floor, both literal and theoretical way. I thought it was my fault, that I did something wrong and that’s why he did what he did. I even thought that I’m not worthy of being loved and being in love again. Took me time to realize that no matter what happened, I still deserve to be happy and to find someone to love and who can love me back.”

It appears that your words touch him deep, staring back at you, he just nods shortly, not replying to anything you just said. You’re not sure he is so silent because he doesn’t really understand what you just talked about or if it hit too close to home. Whatever it is, he keeps it to himself.

“Good night, Harry,” you smile at him before walking out of the kitchen and up into your room.

You’re lying in bed already when you hear him open his room’s door and then close it and suddenly he is all you can think about. The way his eyes sometimes pierce down on you, the way he taps his fingers against his lips when he is thinking hard or the proud smile that always plasters across his face whenever he is watching Izzy do basically anything. But you do see some pain in those beautiful green eyes of his and your desire to take just the smallest fracture of it away grows, even though he is not showing any sign that he is willing to share it with you.

The next morning, despite having the day off, you wake up quite early. You toss and turn, try to fall back asleep a little longer, but you just can’t. It’s a nice, warm morning and you decide to take advantage of the little balcony attached to your room. Wrapping yourself in your fluffy robe you grab the book you started reading a few days ago and sit out, enjoying the morning Sun that’s shining right at you on the balcony.

You don’t even realize for a while that you’re not the only early riser. When your eyes wander down to the big oak tree that’s near Izzy’s playground, you spot Harry doing what appears to be yoga on a green mattress, wearing nothing else, just a pair of black shorts. No shirt.

For a moment you think about going inside, feeling like you’re invading his privacy in a way, but you have the right to enjoy the morning Sun on your balcony, it’s not your fault he decided to have yoga at the exact same time. And it’s just hard not to look at his shirtless body stretching in all directions, twisting and turning as he goes through the motions, his tattooed body on full display.

It’s been clear since the moment you laid eyes on him for the first time that Harry is probably the most beautiful man you’ve ever met and that includes all your exes. Paired with his kind of mysterious charisma and the way he takes care of his daughter, he is the whole package, but you have been busy with Izzy to dwell too long on how attractive he really is. But right now, you are not working and he is very much shirtless in the backyard, teasing you with thoughts you definitely shouldn’t be thinking about when it comes to your boss.

A shaky breath leaves your mouth as you let yourself watch him just for a few more minutes before heading back inside, not wanting to get busted for being a stalker and also not wanting to see him in more positions and have even more unholy thoughts about him.

But what you don’t know is that just as you step inside, Harry catches your figure disappearing in your room, knowing well you saw him too.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed it!

-

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[shemarmooresfedora]

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Warning: swearing

Masterlist

Chapter 1

“Thank you for agreeing to guest lecture this semester. My students are really looking forward to hearing stories from a real life FBI agent,” Professor Walker was giving Spencer a tour of Georgetown University.

Spencer had agreed to guest lecture once a week in Professor Walker’s Criminology course following the return of the very much alive Emily Prentiss to the BAU. Spencer had snapped quite a few times at his co-workers and was still adjusting to the sudden development so Hotch signed off on this as a little break for Spencer.

Professor Walker was explaining faculty parking when Spencer heard that voice. It was so nostalgic and comforting, filling him with a sense of warmth that he desperately craved. He thought he would never hear it again.

“My office hours are Tuesdays and Thursdays from three to six. Can you make the lab up one of those days?” the voice asked.

Spencer was desperately looking around, trying to find the owner of voice so he could prove it wasn’t all in his head and you were actually really here.

Then, Spencer saw you. You looked as gorgeous as ever. You were in a black pencil skirt and a dark green blouse with pale pink high heels which was a far cry from the crewnecks, leggings, and converse that Spencer had known you to wear most of the time in college. You looked very mature and that is not to say you didn’t seven years ago but you had this sense of confidence about you now.

“Okay perfect, see you then,” you hung up the phone and made eye contact with Spencer.

Your jaw went slack, eyes widening in what appeared to be horror, and you ceased all your movement.

“Dr. Reid? Do you have any questions?” Professor Walker asked, forcing Spencer’s gaze to drift back to him.

“Uh no, I-I’m all set,” Spencer stuttered.

In reality, he had not listened to a single word he had just said but he took the metro so he didn’t have to worry about faculty parking. He was still trying to process the brief eye contact he had just made with you and figure out if it was a dream or not.

“Perfect, then you are free to go! I’ll see you Monday morning, bright and early!” Professor Walker chuckled.

Spencer waved as Professor Walker strolled off to his office and his eyes scanned the campus for you once again. However, you were long gone. Maybe it was a figment of his imagination.

-

“What the fuck!” you whispered to yourself as you were in a full-on sprint in your heels.

You were trying to locate your car keys in your purse while maintaining your speed. You simply could not handle seeing him ever again. You didn’t even know why he was here. He chose the FBI over you so shouldn’t he be on a private jet or something flying across the country?

Once you made it to your car and slumped into the driver’s seat, you knew you were safe. He didn’t know what car you drove and there were way too many cars to go around looking in the windows of each one.

You took a moment to collect yourself before pulling out of the parking lot. You drove your normal route to Wesley Elementary School and turned off the ignition, hopping out the car.

The kindergarteners were all lined up in a not-so-straight line behind their teacher with their little coats and colorful backpacks on.

“Hi Mrs. Flynn!” you greeted, heading to the back of her line.

You saw a flash of purple before you felt two little arms wrapping around your knees.

“Mommy, I missed you so much,” she exclaimed as you picked her up.

“How much?” you asked.

“This much,” the girl outreached her arms, creating a gap the size of her arm span between them.

“I missed you even more than that, Josephine,” you kissed her cheek, carrying her back to the car.

You placed her in her car seat and got her all buckled up as she talked to you about her day.

Yes, Jo was Spencer’s, that much was obvious from her big brown eyes and curly brown hair. She looked just like her dad but he didn’t even know she existed.

You and Spencer had dated for a little over a year at Cal-Tech. He was already on his third PhD and you were in your second year of undergrad but you both were twenty.

You thought he was the one but looking back on it now, what did you know. You were young, dumb, and in love. As soon as he was recruited for the FBI, you were swiftly dumped as he gallivanted across the country to be a badass and save lives. Fuck Spencer Reid is all you could think as you moped around your apartment for the first two weeks, absolutely miserable.

Then, you realized your period was late and you were never late. When you found out you were pregnant, your friends and family were very supportive, your parents especially, they said they would support your decision either way.

You decided to keep the baby even though you were still very young. You knew it would be hard but you knew this was something you wanted. You knew ever since you were a child playing with baby dolls and then growing up and babysitting your neighbor’s kids that being a mom would make you happy.

You never reached out to Spencer though. He broke up with you and then moved across the country. You weren’t really up for a “hey listen, I know you live thousands of miles away now and don’t want anything to do with me anymore but I’m having your child” phone call so you simply never made it. Sure, some help may be nice but you had your parents. You certainly didn’t need any help from the asshole.

-

It had been hours since Spencer had seen Y/N but he still couldn’t wrap his head around it.

He went to his old dusty computer on his desk and typed in “Y/N Y/L/N”. He wasn’t proud of this but he wanted to know what you were up to.

He found your section on the Georgetown University website. You were an Associate Professor in biology. Spencer smiled, remembering all the night you would come over to his apartment with a bundle of flashcards and have him quiz you until you got every single one right.

Your instagram profile was private and Spencer didn’t even have an account to request to follow you on. Not that he would, an ex seeing you in public after seven years and then requesting to follow you on an account that he just made would definitely come off as creepy.

He could ask Penelope to do further digging but you weren’t a bad guy so that would be an invasion of your privacy and he didn’t really want to deal with all of Garcia’s questions.

Spencer sighed. He missed you. He thought about you very often. Spencer thought it would be selfish to keep you tied down to him when he wouldn’t be able to see you very often. He thought it would just make you miserable so he broke up with you in order to save you from the future pain. But it hurt him so much that he actually cried the entire plane ride to Virginia, the poor woman next to him handing him tissues occasionally. You were way out of his league to begin with, you would find someone new and better in no time, he thought.

In the seven years that had passed, he had a few occasional flings but never even close to what he had with you. You were his first love and undoubtedly his last because he had realized too late that you were it for him.

AO3 link

[hes-writer]

Confessions: A ‘Favourite’ Extra

Summary: beatrice graduates and dad!harry is not invited

Warnings: angst!

Word Count: 3305 words

A/N: this is part of the ‘Favourite’ universe :D this scene takes place sometime between the first and second part! please read them before reading this.

Part One | Part Two

_____

Graduation.

Through Beatrice’s 18-years of living, she did not think that the celebration of liberation would be so sour. The day started off like any normal day. That is, except, she did not have to deliberately avoid the areas of the house that her dad, Harry, was in. It was strange that she had to feel uncomfortable in her own home.

For this special event, Beatrice had initially bought only three tickets for Ruby, Caleb and her mum, Y/N. Her dad had a packed schedule of promoting his newest album anyway so Beatrice thought that it wouldn’t even matter. She didn’t think he would want to come anyway. If Beatrice knew anything about her father is that he never really cared much about what went on in her life.

Beatrice supposes that it was okay. She had a whole lifetime to get used to it. A full lifestyle living on the edge because she didn’t know when her dad would clap-back with an insult for no reason. However, it didn’t mean that the spike in pain hurt any less. Don’t get her wrong; she was grateful for Y/N being around and involved. But Beatrice sometimes wondered how it would feel like to be wrapped in a fatherly embrace or be guided with wisdom and courage.

She really couldn’t remember the last time Harry did anything that made Beatrice feel like his daughter. Aside from the family photos they took on during the holidays or when celebrating whatever work achievement he managed to snag--that was the only time where Beatrice would feel Harry’s hand resting on her shoulder.

___

“Can I get one?” Ruby asked, tugging on the coloured strings of Beatrice’s cap. Her small body was being held by her older sister while Y/N took photos of the three siblings.

“Caleb, put your phone away please,” Y/N requested, shaking her head at the way the young boy groaned. Nonetheless, he followed the instruction.

"You’re lucky I love you or I would not have shown up,” Caleb grumbled, offering a sweet smile afterwards to suggest that he was joking. The three siblings posed for the camera, Beatrice trying hard not to let Ruby tilt her square cap.

Between a plastered smile, Beatrice replied, “Probably why dad isn’t here,”

Caleb widened his eyes significantly. Though, it seemed conspicuous to Y/N who was busy figuring out how to brighten the screen.

“That’s not true, sissy. He’s just busy,”

Beatrice chuckled, shrugging off the comforting hand of her younger brother, “Always busy but never when one of you have something going on,”

“It’s just a coincidence,”

“Yeah, sure,”

Caleb frowned at her response, focusing her attention on Ruby’s babbles. He almost spilled the surprise that their dad was going to watch Beatrice cross the stage. Caleb knew how his sisters felt about Harry and he hoped that his appearance would help patch things up between them.

Caleb walked over to Y/N, “Are you sure that Dad’s coming?”

Y/N nodded, “Yes, he said he’s looking for parking now,”

Caleb bit his lip nervously, “Do you think she’ll be surprised?”

——

“Graduate with honours, Beatrice Y/LN,”

Applause filled the venue as Beatrice walked up the steep steps of the stage. A shy smile was placed on her lips when she caught sight of the projector screen showcasing her achievements for her senior year.

In the audience, both Harry and Y/N were confused as to why Beatrice used her mother's name to be announced. The cinch in Y/N’s brow smoothed out when the principal continued speaking. Harry, however, couldn’t help the questioning frown.

“Top Chemistry. Top Biology. Overall Best Science Student. Gold Volunteer Badge. Level 4 Music Theory. Beatrice has been excelling both academically and musically while serving the community,”

Beatrice squinted at the bright lights, placing her diploma and speech on the podium. She had never been good at public speaking. However, her announced name gave Beatrice newfound confidence. It’s just her. All her achievements wouldn’t be credited to her father just because he was Harry Styles.

“Hi, uh,” She cleared her throat, “I’m Beatrice Y/LN and I’m very honoured to be standing in front of you today,”

Her speech was short and to the point; thanking her fellow classmates even though there were very few to thank personally. There were a few jokes in between and some nostalgic memories about various school events throughout the year. Beatrice mentioned remarks to her teachers who helped her achieve high grades. Lastly, she thanked her family for supporting  her

“I’d like to thank my family. My brother, Caleb. My sister, Ruby and my Mum. You guys have been so wonderful to me and I hope that I made you proud,”

Y/N was tearing up with a hand clasped over her mouth. She could not believe that her oldest daughter was off to university in a few weeks. Beatrice’s work ethic was unmatched and it showed in her getting the recognition that she deserved.

There was a pregnant pause before applause filled the space again. Despite switching her name last minute, everyone in her school knew that Beatrice was a Styles kid. They were probably waiting for her to mention him in her speech. But Beatrice felt no need to mention the man that had done nothing for her. He wasn’t even here.

“Thank you and congratulations, everyone!”

Harry slumped lower in his seat. He could feel Y/N’s worried eyes and Caleb’s observant gaze inspecting his face.

____

Beatrice stood beside her family, watching Harry a few metres away who was currently busy attending to the fans that recognized him. Even with his graying hair, many parents greeted him with a reminiscing statement about how they ‘saw him in concert back in the day’, to which he would chuckle at and proceed to converse for a few minutes until their child--Beatrice’s age--tugged them away.

All that Beatrice wanted to do was to get home and interact with her online friends. She had mentioned that she was graduating today and they were all very proud of her. Beatrice would rather take the peace and quiet of her own room than a bustling party.

“You’re invited,” Emma, a popular girl, stated while handing her a piece of paper with all the details of the party. Beatrice mumbled a hushed ‘thanks’, despite knowing that she wouldn’t even attend it in the first place.

“Are you going, Tris?” Y/N asked, holding Ruby’s hand so the youngest child would not get lost in the crowd.

Beatrice shook her head ‘no’, explaining that there was no point.

“I don’t know anyone there anyway,”

She was kind of a loner, but Beatrice was happier by herself anyways. “Besides, I don’t think dad will agree. It’s way past curfew,”

Y/N nodded in understanding. The curfew set for their eldest child was at nine in the evening. Y/N was sure that Harry would be lenient to let Beatrice go; it was her graduation after all. Sooner or later, Beatrice would be leaving for university.

____

Beatrice should be grateful. She should be happy, yet somehow those emotions were non-existent to her brain right now. She should be smiling, eyes brimming with tears because her dad actually cared to throw a party for her. But all she could feel right now was a pure disappointment and agonizing anger because Beatrice knows that he was trying to make up for years of mistreatment.

At this moment, the rowdiness of the party only proved that Harry really did not know anything about Beatrice. She did not know over half the people here, aside from the few relatives they see during the holidays; her grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles. The rest were recognizable from Harry’s industry. Beatrice swore she saw Lizzo sipping a cup of liquor in their kitchen.

Aside from the initial greeting of ‘congratulations’, paired with the large banister taped on the foyer of the house, this party wasn’t much of a celebration based on Beatrice’s milestone in life. If anything, it looked like a regular get together for celebrities and industry people. Frankly, she had no interest in interacting with them. As rude as it may sound, the swirling turmoil of emotions beginning from her stomach made Beatrice push past the packed crowd with a tight-lipped smile in order to get to her room.

She felt like she couldn’t breathe, especially knowing that these people in her house absolutely adored Harry. They saw him as a family man, loved and appreciated by his kids. It wasn’t a complete lie, per se. Beatrice just didn’t have much experience to confirm that he was, in fact, a lovable and caring person.

If she had to put a finger on it, Beatrice was feeling utter disgust. She was disgusted because Harry was the perfect person in their eyes when everything he had shown her was that she was someone that didn’t deserve any of his attention. It felt like this was a celebration of her dad’s façade--he was not actually proud of her. He was just making it seem like he is so he wouldn’t be perceived as the dead-beat dad.

A knock at her door sounded. It was almost as if Beatrice could sense her dad’s presence without turning around to look at who just entered the privacy of her room.

“Tris?” Harry whispered, hesitating on mumbling the nickname. He had never done it willingly before, much less not as bitter as the previous times.

Beatrice swore that she could practically see the venom slithering on his tongue every time he said her name. But maybe that was just her skewed perception.

The chair that she was sitting on creaked as she shifted her weight, leaning her elbows on her desk.

“Why did you even throw a party, dad?”

It was merely a genuine question that held so many underlying meanings. Why now? Why not earlier when there was still hope to fix whatever sort of broken and fucked up relationship they had with each other?

Harry fully stepped into the room, observing the walls decorated with art and artists whom he recognized were his friends. He didn’t realize that she was a fan of Florence Pugh.

He cleared his throat with a fist to his mouth, “I wanted to celebrate your graduation,”

Beatrice internally rolled her eyes, “Did you really? Because you haven’t been there when I needed your help with my homework or assignments or anything. Now,  suddenly you want to act like you were a big part of how I achieved my accomplishments?”

It was a sour realization. It was accurate that Harry refused to help her with schoolwork. He swore that he was busy looking over new options for his upcoming projects. Retrospectively, he might have subconsciously spewed out excuses so that he wouldn’t be able to help his dear daughter.

Beatrice sighed, flattening the balls of her palms against the edge of the sleek wood, pushing the rolling wheels of the chair back. She stood up.

“Just admit it. You threw the party because you felt guilty and you think that somehow, everything will magically be okay between us?” Beatrice shot him a questioning look, chest-puffing when Harry’s lack of words confirmed her theory.

Beatrice propped her feet in the middle of her room, twisting her body so that her back was facing away from the closed-door; from him. She breathed heavily through her nose, lungs rising up and down as she gathered her thoughts.

Unbelievable.

Harry stood with his arms by his sides, staring at his daughter with curious compassion. He did not know what to say, nor did he know how to act because he didn’t take the time to get to know her. He didn’t spend time with Beatrice; nurturing, caring, calming or comforting her because he simply couldn't get over the fact that she was once a person that caused calamity in his life.

“Tris,” Her dad spoke, earning a pinch of her facial expression from the familiarity of the nickname. Yet, it was unfamiliar because Harry used it mundanely.

Beatrice cut him off, “I’ll be leaving for university in a few weeks. You can quit pretending like you care. You say this graduation party is for me but I don’t even know most of the people here!”

The volume of her voice reached a threshold that should warn both of them to keep quiet. However, Beatrice knew that with the hustle and bustle of the celebration going on downstairs—no one would hear her honesty except for her and Harry.

Harry blinked twice, mouth dropping slightly agape. Why did he throw this party? He knew his intentions; he was proud of his daughter. He wanted to show her off to everyone he knew about how intelligent and well-rounded Beatrice was.

The girl continued speaking as if reading Harry’s train of thought.

“This is for you,” She spoke bitterly as if her tongue was left with an odd taste in her mouth. “Showing off a ‘trophy’ daughter who graduated with honours but that doesn’t matter, does it? Nothing I ever do will match what you’ve done.”

The accompanying laugh—albeit, sarcastic— left Harry confused.

“What? No, this is for you. I’m proud of you,” Harry quickly disagreed with Beatrice, gesturing his large hands in a wave to emphasize his words.

She turned around with gentle disbelief; her features were hardened yet Beatrice’s eyes gleamed with hope. She wanted so badly to believe her dad, but his lack of attentiveness to her led Beatrice to roll her eyes at him instead.

“Cut the crap, Dad,”

“Language,” Harry added, pursing his lips when Beatrice scoffed.

“I can’t believe this,” Beatrice muttered, she stared at the ground as if picking out the words to say.

As bad as it sounded, she wanted to hurt her dad the way he did to her. Years of being treated like an unwanted child slowly built up inside of her and Beatrice wanted the pain to end.

“You wanted to be everything so bad that you forgot to be my Dad,”

“I am your dad, Tris,” Harry watched as she walked over to her desk. Fingers cascading the glass picture frame which held a still of their family.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Beatrice turned around, throwing the edged frame on her bed in a fit of anger.

Harry’s brows shot up to his forehead, watching his daughter’s eyes well up with tears.

“You are my dad but you’ve never been one to me! Why is that? Huh?” Beatrice pressed, crossing her arms and digging her fingernails on the skin of her bicep.

“I’m sorry that I took those opportunities away from you. You got movie deals, You had an album coming out. Tours, shows, money—you had everything and I ruined it, didn’t I? As you said, it would’ve been better if I wasn’t born,”

Harry was no stranger to not interrupting someone when they spoke. However, he couldn’t let Beatrice believe the words she spoke.

“Don’t say that! That’s not true,” He stuttered over his words, heart-shattering under the weight of Beatrice’s truthfulness. Sure, he had everything, but it didn’t mean that he was satisfied.

“But you thought about it right? You wondered how different it would be if I wasn’t born at the wrong time. Maybe you would’ve loved me more—like you do Caleb and Ruby,” Beatrice smiled sadly.

She was glad that at least her siblings would not have to experience the searing pain of being unappreciated. They did not deserve to be seen through like a ghost.

“Maybe you would’ve paid more attention to me. Maybe you would have cared that I was hurting every time you showed me nothing but disdain,”

Beatrice used her forearm to wipe away the tears beginning to soak her reddened cheeks. She sighed, plopping down at the foot of her bed, watching Harry look at her with an unreadable emotion on his face.

“You know, It’s not my responsibility to ask why,” Beatrice whispered. Though, she wondered what would have happened if she did question her dad why he looked at her as if she was a burden in his life.

Beatrice’s monologue crescendoed as utter pain cracked her voice every now and then. Her figure slouching as she truly experienced what it was like to let go of the turmoiled affliction soaring through her body.

“I’m your child! You’re the one who’s supposed to be looking out for me. You’re the one who’s supposed to show me what love is supposed to feel like. I’ve always wondered how you’d react if I came home with a boyfriend like all the movies and books talk about. But, all you’ve shown and made me feel was my first heartbreak when you’re supposed to be the one nursing me from it,”

At that point, Harry could not remain the eye contact he shared with his daughter, gazing down at the floorboard in shame.

“You were supposed to scare guys off because I’m your eldest daughter. You’re supposed to protect me from everything that could hurt me, even when it’s irrational because that is what Dads do,”

That same bitter laugh that pierced Harry’s ears earlier echoed again.

“But I guess you never really wanted to become one to begin with. Or maybe just not with me.”

Harry took a few steps back. Her words figuratively churned and twisted his gut. He caught his balance on the doorknob that moved feverishly under his weight. Sure, he didn’t want to be her dad at first. And he had many chances to fix a strained relationship, but he never took them. So really, he had no shield at denying the truth. He was simply a father who failed to be the dad to Beatrice.

“I-I do! I want to be--if you'd let me,” He hated the way his voice became weary.

Despite their differences, Beatrice and Harry both mutually hated the way his tone pinched. The way he had to plead and beg for his daughter’s forgiveness when it seemed to be too late. This could have been avoided if Harry took the chance to become the dad that Beatrice deserved to have. The dad that her siblings--Caleb and Ruby--saw and spent time with while Beatrice watched behind, wondering why she was never treated the way they did.

“For years, I wondered what was wrong with me. I listened to the music that you liked. I asked mum what you enjoyed doing because you never talk to me. I wanted you to see me as a daughter instead of this--this invisible speck that you shrug off your shoulder every time I needed you!” Beatrice cried out, hugging herself for comfort.

The worst part was that she could see Harry’s legs buckle in hesitation to come closer to her or not. He shouldn’t even have to think to comfort his daughter, but he did.

“I wanted you to like me as if I even have to do that in the first place! You’re my dad, don’t you get it? Because I didn’t. I spent so much time being the perfect child in hopes of you giving me an ounce of your attention aside from the face you put on when I walked into the room. Why did you have to treat me this way, huh?”

Tears spilled from her forest-green eyes, identical to Harry’s glazed ones. His mouth parted in retaliation. As if he was plopped in quicksand, Harry had no idea how to defend himself.

“I know that you didn’t want me in the first place but--,” Beatrice sniffled, wiping the salty liquid to her damp temples, “I just wished you treated me like I wasn’t a burden to you,”

_____

[prfctethereal]

just another horror movie. | james potter

pairing: james potter x reader

chapter: one 

warnings: NSFW, smut, oral (male receiving), exhibitionism, talk of dead bodies, actual dead body, blood, vomiting

word count: 3.7k

read the prologue here or on ao3 here

summary: you and james take a quick detour through the woods, to have a bit of morning fun, but find something gruesome.

Three weeks earlier…

The quiet town of Hogwarts had never been quieter. It was typical though; towns that resided in the countryside of Scotland were often described as “quiet”, unbeknownst to most that it was anything but. Except, Hogwarts lived up to the stereotype. Peaceful, tame, quiet.

Quiet.

God, you needed some quiet.

Exam season was narrowing in, which meant endless nights of caffeine and random studying music that you found on spotify, its main purpose to help you concentrate. It was unfortunate, with the school year coming to a close, but you were determined to leave the year proud and satisfied with your work. Everything was going perfectly so far. Nothing could screw it up.

This is what you told yourself as you began your walk to school this morning. Leaving your house at seven in the morning on the dot had become the regular for you. Now that Summer was finally coming in, the walks were warm, without chilling breezes. You could feel comfortable with the wind in your hair and a light shirt on your back.

Something felt tranquil about this morning in particular. You didn’t feel held up or anxious. You didn’t even feel stressed as you busily organised your school bag this morning. You didn’t even blink an eye when you dropped your chemistry textbook on your foot. You were in a good mood. You were glowing.

Maybe it was because you had been getting some amazing sex from your amazing boyfriend lately.

Maybe.

But today wasn’t for what ifs. Today, you had one thing on your mind. A conversation needed to be had between you and your guidance counsellor, as the prospects of colleges were starting to roll around. Applications were beginning to close and your aspirations for life after high school were beginning to get clearer and clearer. You no longer wanted to be tied down in a small town, where the most important job you could get was at the Mayor’s office, sitting at a desk, listening to the complaints of highly egotistical citizens.

Wasn’t for you.

Your mind drifted off to your could-be life, and before you knew it, your legs had walked to your boyfriend’s house without you even realising. It was something unconscious and natural, something you were completely used to. The sight of the grand, three-story mansion that your lover lived in brought unprecedented comfort.

The spiralling pillars covered in the greenest of vines was something from a fairytale. A pale cerulean was painted across the panelling, giving a dream-like feel. Right above the front door housed a giant window, one that opened up into James’ bedroom.

Right. James.

Walking up the path, you felt comforted by the familiar sound of gravel beneath your feet. It reminded you of all the nights you had snuck up this very path to climb into James’ bedroom via the window. Nostalgic really.

Now you were here in broad daylight, ready to walk hand in hand with your boyfriend to school. Knocking on the front door, you were excited to see a nearly immediate opening of the door, with a very joyous boy standing there. His signature dopey smile glistened even brighter, as his eyes lingered over your clothed body a little longer than expected. His tongue shot out very quickly over the pink cushions of his lips, something you could’ve missed in a blink of an eye, but you didn’t. Laughing, he pushed his glasses up the nose of his bridge, before running his fingers through his unruly hair.

“Should we go then?” It sounded as though it was the first time James had spoken this morning, a fact that you didn’t mind, as your brain thought unholy things when listening to his gravely morning voice.

“Soon.” You mumbled, your voice trailing off slightly, as you stepped towards James, swinging your arms around the back of his neck. Taking a breath of his scent, you leaned forward, placing a delicate kiss upon his lips. They were slightly chapped, but you didn’t care.

It may have been a Summer day, but that wasn’t the only reason you were feeling hot.

Stopping yourself before you went too far, you pulled backwards, not before suggestively running your hands down James’ chest, smirking against his lips. “Come on, let's go.” You remarked playfully, smacking your hand lightly against James’ firm butt, which elicited a short laugh from the bubbly man.

So, hand in hand, you and James darted down his footpath, back into the street. Even more birds had woken up by now, with a choir of chirping serenading your descent into the bustling streets of Hogwarts.

Everything now seemed a little more public than you initially thought. Neighbours were waking up and going to work now too, giving no shorter than five second glances at you and James’ hand intertwined. You know what they would say; old people gossiped too much for your liking. It made you especially nervous, knowing that your parents didn’t know about your illicit relationship. Maybe it should stay that way. Well, before any neighbours get a little too gossipy in the weekly book club meetings.

“Are you listening to me?” James asked, snapping you out of your thoughtful haze. Blinking twice, you returned your attention to James, who’s eyes were laced with concern as he looked you over once again, eyebrows furrowed. “You seem out of it.”

“Oh, sorry.” Your voice came out almost silently as you looked away, flushed and embarrassed. “What were you talking about?”

“How I was going to fuck you so hard later today that you are going to struggle to walk.” James followed his statement with a dash of laughter, something that you mimicked like a pirate’s parrot.

“Well, I hope that’s not a joke, my dear.” You flashed a sly smile, looking James up and down. You both stopped walking, with James now admiring the way you were biting your lip, as if you were a siren trying to entrap him. Surely, you guys wouldn’t quickly dash away into the bush and go for a quickie right now, right?

James thought about it too, eyeing up someone’s poor hydrangea bush. Unfortunately, there would be too many witnesses, and exhibitionism wasn’t something you had both openly discussed before, although it wasn’t completely off the table.

“Lunch period.” James finally said, stopping his momentary halt, and marching forward.

“Lunch period?”

James leaned over, pressing his lips so close to your ear. His hot breath sent shivers down your spine, ones that ended in your core. “Meet me in the hallway between the chemistry and physics lab. I think there’s a new cupboard we could Christen.”

Giggling in excitement, you rubbed your fingers up the length of James’ arm, tugging him down the footpath, continuing your conversation about whatever. You learnt that he had a History test today, all about women earning the right to vote. You sighed as you listened to him talk about what he was passionate about, his stressed vowel sounds turning you on more than you would’ve thought.

Then came a predicament. An actual, real life crossroad. Right in front of you was where the footpath curved to the left, following along the road onto the main road through town. It was the way you went every day, with the road taking you directly to school when you walked along it, arriving perfectly at seven twenty-five every day. It was ideal.

This morning, though, you were feeling cheeky. From this footpath curve was another opportunity. The footpath also opened into a dirt path, something that twisted into the woods, or, as the conspiracy theorists of the town called it, the Forbidden Forest. It was hardly forbidden though; they literally took Scouts classes there, and those have kids as young as seven in them.

Feeling devilish, you paused James for a moment, the cogs turning over in your brain. You might arrive at school a little later than you first thought, but at least you would have some distance between the prying eyes of the Hogwarts neighbourhood. And maybe, you could have a little bit of fun too.

“James,” you smirked, tugging at the edge of his shirt, capturing his attention, something that wasn’t actually that hard to do, “shall we go for a detour this morning?”

Your eyes flashed over the forest and onto the quiet stillness of it. You could feel James’ heart rate speed up, but it wasn’t because he was scared. He was just as excited as you. It was like a switch had flicked on in his brain, although he was still hesitant, his feet still planted firmly on the ground.

“Are you sure?” James questioned. “How late is this going to make us?”

“Not that late at all.” You justified, mocking offence. “Oh, we should get there at maybe, quarter to eight? And besides, it’s fresh air, it’ll be good for us, and our lungs. Think of it as reversing the side effects of being around Sirius and Remus when they smoke all the time. Your lungs will thank us.”

“I’m not sure that’s how it works.” James laughed.

“How would you be so sure?”

“I’m the one that takes biology out of the two of us.”

You had to try another tactic, so, you jutted your bottom lip out of your mouth, putting on your best doe eyes, hoping you could flutter your eyelashes enough for him to give into temptation. “Please?”

A sigh escaped James lips as he seemed to give in. His reluctant look of worry was quickly replaced by an eager spark. Knitting his fingers in with yours, you two walked hand and hand together down the dirt path. The change of feeling beneath your feet was almost instantly recognisable, the normal, smooth, concrete path replaced by the rough dirt, and slight mud, even though it hadn't rained in days.

As you continued to wander down the path, you were suddenly covered in a canopy of shade, as the trees of the forest soon covered your heads. The route got a tad darker, the path no longer illuminated with the light of the sun, not that you minded though. You could still easily see where you were going.

You felt a little colder without the extra heat from the sun. You didn’t like the way goosebumps rose on your skin or the way you had to rub your hands along your arm to keep yourself warm. You felt out of control, a feeling of which you loathed. You didn’t want your perfect morning to be ruined by a little chill.

When you reached a tall, winding tree, you stopped James from his walk, pulling him off the path. Luckily, you had spotted a small dip in the earth, perfect to stay in, somewhere where regular bystanders wouldn’t find you. Happy with your discovery, you looked back at James, who had a puzzled look across his face.

“What’s going on?”

“Can I kiss you?” You asked breathlessly, your hands already getting fidgety. You wanted to be connected with James again, intertwined if you will. You needed to feel his skin, even if it was barely quarter past seven in the morning.

“Yes, love.” James breathed out, his voice quiet and shallow. WIth the consent, you leaned upwards, connecting your lips at last. It felt right to be pressed up against each other once again, even if it had been only yesterday when you had last felt such passion.

You deepened the kiss, feeling urgent to make the most of the short time you had together. Your mouths melded together almost perfectly, your lips pushing against each other like a playful pillow fight, one which you were determined to win.

Feeling mischievous, you reached to James’ hair, tugging lightly on his roots, an action you knew he liked. This action got the response you wanted from him, a needy moan, in which you took the opportunity to slip your tongue into his mouth, battling it out with his own, regaining confidence and dominance.

You pulled away, your cheeks flushed from the lack of oxygen. James looked disheveled but pleased, wanting to continue your little make out session, but unfortunately, you had limited time.

“Can I suck you off?” You whispered against his mouth innocently, looking up at his hazel eyes, brushing his hair off of his forehead. You could hear him gulp with nervousness, before nodding quickly, his hands making their way to his slacks.

You knew James was slipping into a mindset clouded by arousal, so you sank to your knees slowly in front of him, still looking up at him through your long lashes. On your journey downwards, you carefully unzipped the zipper on his pants, pulling them down to ankles, until he was clad in only his boxers.

Lifting yourself up slightly onto the balls of your feet, you kissed him lightly on the outside of his boxers, feathering gentle kisses. You knew you were being a tease, but you needed him nice and hard. As you felt his bulge setting like cement under your lips, you lifted your hands up, joining your lips so you could palm him, stroking the material.

When James started moaning, - “oh please, stop teasing, I beg you,” - you released him from the cage of his underwear, dragging the clothing down the apex of his things, watching the muscles twitch in excitement. There, James’ half hard cock laid against his thighs, the tip a gentle rouge colour.

Your fingers grazed over his prick, lightly tracing a prominent vein of the underside of the sex muscle. James groaned in pleasure, the teasing getting too much for him to handle. Feeling benevolent, you dribbled saliva over the tip of the cock, before wrapping your entire hand around it. You started stroking harder and faster, making sure James could feel all of you in a way you hand. He was starting to fall apart above you, but it wasn;t enough.

“So- so good.” James murmured, his eyes gently shutting as he became lost in the feeling. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop. I love your hands, so perfect, so precise. Perfect for me, precise for me.”

“It was like you were made for me.” You agreed with the raven haired boy, before bringing your lips down to the tip of his penis. This action shocked James, but the whimper out of his mouth made you know he was enjoying it. Living from the excitement of the exhibisionist route, you swiveled your tongue across the tip, reaching down the length of the cock, savouring his taste.

“Right there.” James moane, as you brung the rest of your mouth down over his now fully hard cock, reveling in the flavour of the salty precum that was leaking from his angry tip. With a smooth rhythm, you bobbed your head up and down on James’ cock, the sound of his moans itching you on.

You knew you were running out of time, and you still wanted him to cum, so you sped up your movements on James’ cock, stroking the base of his cock, which could not fit in your mouth. Adding to the pleasure, you let your hands move downwards a bit more, so they played gently with James’ hanging balls.

This applied pressure was becoming too much for James, as his breath became laboured and a tingling feeling was nearly bursting at his cock. “I’m gonna cum, please, I’m going to do it.”

You lifted your mouth off of James’ cock, just to murmur, “let go.” James, with your permission, spurted his cum across your hands. Eager to savour him, you opened your mouth, catching as much of the milking substance as possible, not wanting to waste any of it. Jacking James off through the entire thing, you watched as his orgasm crashed over him entirely, the way his face contorted in pleasure almost being the most beautiful portrait to you.

Licking the rest of his cum off of your fingers, you stood up, wiping your knees off, as the dirt sticking to you was becoming slightly uncomfortable. While you stood up, you reached from the top of James’ pants, pulling them upwards as you went.

“Thanks.” James almost laughed, except he still sounded out of breath, which was very reasonable though. You did just suck the life out of him. His fingers worked quickly, rearranging his pants, and cock, so that you both could continue on your way to school.

As you waited for James to finish cleaning himself up, your nose turned upwards. There was a strange smell coming from the area, one you didn’t notice before when you were on your knees in front of James. It was a smell that you were relatively unfamiliar with, but all you knew was that it stank like rotten meat.

“Can you smell that?” You asked James, looking off into the little ditch you were beside. Wherever you were, it seemed that it had been recently disturbed. Broken twigs snapped into pieces laid amongst crunched up leaves. If you squinted, you were sure you could even make out that faintest of footprints on the ground. It was odd, but nothing you haven't seen before in the woods. The smell on the other hand…

“Smells like thrown out vegetables.” James readjusted his glasses before holding out his hand, inviting you to close your fingers in with his. “I bet some old granny thought it would be a good idea to throw out their compost in the woods. If the council found out, they would have a fit. You know all about their weirdly tight rules on littering? It’s not even bad for the environment.”

You had stopped listening a while ago. Something didn’t feel right, but it was nothing you could sort out now. You weren’t satisfied but you turned back towards James anyway, knowing that you needed to head off to school or you would be running a little bit behind schedule. As you turned around, you noticed James’ face morph from a cheeky grin to a concerned frown.

“What is it?” You pondered, stepping towards James, matching his pear-shaped frown with one of your own.

“Did you cut yourself when you were on your knees?”

“Huh?”

“Look.” James bent down to look at your knees and you turned your head down too. What you thought had just been a bit of dirt must’ve been something else. Your knees were covered in a browny-red, maybe a maroon colour. It looked as though your entire knee had been cut open, as blood was still dripping from your skin, but that couldn’t be right. You felt no pain on your knee. You hadn’t cut yourself.

Swiping your fingers across your knee, you gathered some of the drying blood on your fingers. This was the first time you had looked at your hands since you wiped off your knees before and you saw that you had smudged blood stains all across your palm. You nearly barfed on the spot. You felt incredibly uneasy, like a stormy ocean filled your stomach.

You lifted your fingers up to your nose, a theory hypothesising into your head, and you were right. The smell of the blood matched the rotten meat smell you could smell before. As if you were a dog, the odor latched onto your nose and expanded, its putrid smell being the only thing in your senses.

“I'm going to be sick.” You doubled over a rock. Resting your hand against a boulder, you hovered downwards over a patch of leaves, letting your breakfast out. Your head was reeling as you could still smell the retching odor of the old blood. You couldn’t get it out of your mind, so you leaned over again, round two of the hurling intervention.

James rushed over to you, placing his warm hands on your back, rubbing soothing circles. He wished he could say that his main focus was to make you feel better, but it wasn’t. Over in the deepest part of the dish, he noticed something strange. It was almost like a small lump in the ground, something unnatural. It seemed to be covered very messily by old leaves and sticks, and an entire tree branch, as if it would make it any less inconspicuous. It even had that opposite of the desired effect, seemingly sticking out like a sore thumb.

“Darling,” James waited until you lifted your head back up, regaining your breath once again, “what do you think that is?”

James’ hand pointed into the direction of the ditch, in which you followed his eyesight and body movements. You could see it too; just a lump in the ground. Your mind was racing of what it could be. A dead animal? A pile of rotten food? Maybe a…

“Holy shit!” You had only just realised that James had already walked over there, except his body was covering your eye line, and you couldn’t actually see what James had found. Although, he told you immediately. “Quick, call the police. It’s a body.”

A dead body in Hogwarts? Making sure you didn’t lose any more of your stomach through puking, you rushed onto the path in the woods, grabbing your phone out of your pocket, hoping you could get service all the way out here in the woods. Fumbling to turn your phone on, you nearly groaned out in annoyance when you saw that you were getting no bars of service.

Running back to James, you couldn’t stop at the moment. You called out to him, your words a blurred mess, trying to convey to him that you were going to find someone to help. Unsure if he had even heard you, you ran back down the path, your feet carrying you to where you needed to go, unable to bring yourself to a cohesive thought.

When you exited the forest, you flicked your head around, trying to find someone, anyone, that could help in the moment. The first person you saw was your calculus teacher, Mr Slughorn, to which you promptly called out to.

“Mr Slughorn!” You cupped your hands around your mouth to project your words across louder. Mr Slughorn snapped his head around and gave a friendly wave. Annoyed, you shook your head. “Call the police!”

“What?” He called back, walking towards you now. You groaned, trying again.

“There's a dead body in the forest. Call the police!”

***

lmao. anyway this has become a series whoops.

[escapewithbts]

Charity Case - Yoongi

Not super edited, not sure if I love it, blah blah blah, please still enjoy...

I’ve been in such a Yoongi mood lately 😇

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

You stared at your bank statement, or more specifically, your savings account. You had saved up a decent amount of money, that was for sure, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough to kickstart your dream.

It all happened a few days ago on a Tuesday afternoon. You had just finished lunch with a friend who was from your home country. The two of you had found a restaurant specializing in the traditional food from there since you both were craving a taste of home. On your walk back to your apartment, you noticed the road you usually took was blocked off with construction (typical for the summertime in Seoul you were learning), so ultimately you had to take a detour, pulling out your Maps app. Although you lived in Hongdae, you really only took the same few roads daily. Therefore, you still did not quite know your way around.

The new directions had you weave down a side street, one you had never been on before. To your surprise, it was full of restaurants, shops, and cafes, and since Hongdae was known for homing many foreigners within the city of Seoul, many of them featured things you were very familiar with from back home.

Strolling down the block you made mental notes of places you wanted to try, places that were bustling with people, figuring they must be good if that’s the case.

All of a sudden, between an American grocery store and floral shop, you noticed a beautiful empty store front. You peered in the large windows and was met with a decent sized space, white walls, white tile floors, a lot of natural lighting. It was perfect. In the corner of the same window there was a sign that read “FOR LEASE” with the name of the agent and a phone number.

You took a picture of said sign before stuffing your phone back in your pocket. There was no harm in calling, right? Even just getting a feel for the space was harmless…right?

For ever since coming to Seoul from abroad, it was your dream to open your own bakery. To make desserts and breads and pastries fresh daily for the Seoulites to try and the foreigners to feel nostalgic for their home countries. You were currently working a boring office job as a translator, saving for the moment you could follow your true dream.

And maybe this was a sign… this was it.

 So, you did call. You did get a feel for the space. And it was perfect. Turns out it had been a pizza shop that went under, (too much competition) so there were already ovens and freezers and refrigeration, all in great working condition. The agent informed you the floor could be ripped up and replaced, there were already light fixtures attached in the ceiling that could connect to chandeliers and you were already picturing plants hanging from macrame in front of the large windows.

But there was just one problem.

As you stared at your savings account and compared it to the down payment in the brochure the realtor had given you… they didn’t match. You were short about 1/3 of the cost, especially since there was still some work to be done inside to really make it your own.

You heart sunk. You mentally scolded yourself for getting your hopes up. It was in such a prime location; how could you have been so stupid to think it was in your price range!

Suddenly, instead of staring at your lack of funds, you were staring at your face in your phone’s front camera as you received a FaceTime call request. ‘Yoongi’ was the name at the top of the phone screen, accompanied by your favorite picture you had taken of him candidly making a gummy smile caused by a joke you had told. Right on time for the daily call you two always had.

You sighed. Did you really want to speak to him right now? You were great friends, you had (stupidly) told him about the place and he had been so incredibly excited for you. He was so supportive and encouraging… it was incredibly endearing. Reminding yourself of that you pressed the green accept button.

Immediately you were met with the handsome face and bleach blonde hair of Min Yoongi. He was resting his head back on his black leather sofa, his narrow eyes meeting yours between screens.

“Hi Yoongi-ah,” you gave him a small smile.

“Hey (y/n).” he responded, returning the smile.

You stood up and walked over to the couch in your small apartment, sitting down and curling your legs underneath you.

“What are you up to?” you asked.

He reached towards the screen and flipped it, so it was now looking forward. An NBA basketball game was playing on the large tv in his living room.

“Watching the game. It’s game 4 of the finals so if Pheonix wins this one they only have one more game to win before they win it all.”

He returned the screen to face him.

“Oh, that’s cool,” you replied, “Did you have a lot on your work schedule today?”

He ran a hand through his hair.

“It wasn’t too bad. Practiced PTD for a Japanese tv performance we have coming up. Worked on some music between rehearsals,” he shrugged, “the usual.”  

You nodded.

“You?” he questioned, “how was your day?”

You looked down at the couch cushions and fiddled with the blanket that laid beside you. You bit your lip before responding.

“Fine. It was fine. I, uh, I had that appointment. With the agent in charge of that space I was interested in?”

Yoongi’s eyes got wide, and he perked his head up.

“Shit, I forgot that was today. How was it? Did you like it as much as you thought you would?”

A small grin appeared on your face remembering how picturesque it had been.

“It was even better than I thought it would be, Yoongs,” you told him.

He smiled wide.

“That’s incredible! So wh-what now? Did you put down the money for it? Or did you need me to come with you to look at it again, see if there’s anything that needs fixing that I can do??”

You closed your eyes tightly and shook your head. He was so sweet, and it broke your heart even more.

“Thank you, Yoongi, for offering, but that… won’t be necessary.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek, expecting his next question to make you feel uneasy.

He cocked his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

“What? Why not? I really don’t mind.”

You sighed, suddenly incredibly embarrassed to be admitting this to your friend.

“I just saw the statement of my bank account and, well, I don’t… I can’t afford the down payment. I don’t have enough saved up yet.”

You couldn’t help but look down in shame. Yoongi never talked about his money or how much he made being in BTS, but you weren’t stupid. He worked incredibly hard for everything he and his fellow members have achieved and you were nothing but proud of him. He deserved it all, even the unassumingly large income he was bringing in. He would never, ever flaunt it or make you feel inferior to him because of it, but you still felt slightly inefficient in your confession.

Yoongi’s face softened.

“Oh… I’m-I’m sorry, (y/n).”

You shrugged and gave him a small, hopeful smile.

“It’s alright. It just means it wasn’t meant to be, that’s all.”

He gave you a sympathetic frown.

“But you said it was perfect.” He reminded you.

You placed your fingers to the bridge of your nose.

“Because it is, Yoongi-ah. It’s bright and cozy and practically ready. Not to mention it’s an incredible location,” you rolled your eyes at yourself, “I really should have known it would be too much.”

“How much is it, if you don’t mind me asking?”

You looked away again and scrunched your nose, before telling him the exact amount required to put down in order for the space to be yours.

His mouth formed into that straight line he was known for when he was neither happy nor displeased by something.

“Could you get a loan? Like from a bank?”

You shook your head.

“I already looked into it,” you informed him, “it’s weird because my bank is home, but I’m abroad so there would be a lot of hoops to jump through and the chances of being approved are slim to none. Basically, it’s not worth putting a mark on my credit for.”

He nodded in understanding, looking away for a moment. His eyebrows knitted together in thought, and as much as you appreciated him trying to help you, you had already thought of all the possible solutions, and you didn’t really want to talk about it anymore.

“It’s okay, Yoongs, really, I’ll find someplace else.” You smiled reassuringly at him.

He looked back at you and hummed in agreement before you began talking about something else.

 -

The next day you had barely stepped out of your office building after a long day at work when your phone’s text message notification sound went off.

5:49pm from Yoongi: Are you off work yet?

5:49pm to Yoongi: Leaving now. What’s up?

5:50pm from Yoongi: Can you meet me here at the HYBE building ASAP?

You furrowed your eyebrows.

5:50pm to Yoongi: Sure. Is everything okay?

5:50pm from Yoongi: Yeah, everything is fine

5:51pm from Yoongi: Come to the Forum at the top floor when you get here, okay? I already told the front desk you’re coming

5:51pm to Yoongi: You’re being weird but okay

5:51pm from Yoongi: Don’t worry so much you pabo, it’s nothing bad

You rolled your eyes and locked your phone before hailing a taxi.

 The ride to Yoongi’s work was longer than usual because of traffic, but eventually you made it, giving a wad of cash to the driver and stepping out of the cab. The tall, reflective HYBE building intimidated you a little bit, like you were going to get in trouble just for stepping foot on its grounds, but you confidently passed the transparent sign that read “HYBE We Believe in Music” and opened the doors to the main entrance. A woman at the front desk greeted you and asked to see your ID when you told her you were here to see Min Yoongi. When she confirmed your identity, she gestured toward the elevators.

 “Yes, you may proceed to the Forum on the 19th floor, he is waiting near the café there.”

You nodded and thanked her before letting the elevator doors close in front of you.

The aroma of coffee wafted into your nose immediately upon stepping out of the elevators. It smelled heavenly. You walked past many groups of HYBE businessmen and women taking breaks or in small meetings before finally spotting Yoongi at a table in the corner near the large windows. He was fixated on his phone, an iced Americano on the table in front of him, and another iced drink sitting across. It had been a few weeks since you had seen him in person as his schedule was usually jam packed, but upon seeing him now your heart skipped a beat and a wide smile formed on your lips. You hadn’t seen his newly bleached hair in person yet and he looked even more handsome than you imagined. His pale skin glowed in the sunlight. It was good to see him again. You missed him.

 “Hi,” you said, pulling out the chair and sitting down across from him, “the building is incredible.”

He glanced up at you and nodded in agreement.

 “It’s nice. They did a great job. I don’t mind coming to work as much now.” He chuckled to himself, and you rolled your eyes.

He pointed to the beverage in front of you.

 “The drinks are good, too, I got your favorite.”

You smiled at him and took a sip. He was right, it was delicious.

 “Thanks, Yoongs.”

He stared at you for a moment, a grin forming on his face. Your face felt hot, and you had to look away.

“Sooo… why did you need me here so urgently?” you quickly wondered.

“Urgently?” he retaliated, “it sure took you long enough.”

Oh, how you loved his bluntness.

You scoffed.

“Well, excuuuuse me, Mr. Min, normal people go home from work around this time, so traffic was absolutely horrendous! Could you have picked any other time of day?”

He smiled and looked down at his hands while shaking his head.

“This was literally the only open slot I had today, sorry,” he glanced at the time on his phone, “and I’m already almost out of time as it is.”

You waved your hands, urging him on.

“Well then, what is it that it couldn’t wait?”

He scratched the back of his neck and chuckled nervously.

“Aiisshh okay, please don’t be mad.”

You narrowed your eyes and cocked your head.

“Mad? What? What is it, Min Suga?”

He took a deep breath and reached into the front pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small piece of paper. Then he unfolded it carefully and placed it in the middle of the table facing you.

To your shock, it was a personal check. From Yoongi’s bank account. Written for the exact amount you had told him last night of the down payment for the perfect shop you couldn’t afford.

Your jaw dropped and your eyes left the rectangular paper to look into his. They were a little weary, maybe, but hopeful.

“Yoongi…” you started.

He held up his hand.

“Please. Just take it, (y/n).”

Your heart was pounding. There in front of you was the exact amount you needed to start your dream. Your very own bakery. And combined with the amount you had in your savings you could even add some extra touches!

But… you couldn’t do it. You knew you couldn’t. This was your dream, and even if that amount of money was nothing to someone like Yoongi, you wanted to be the one to earn it, like he had earned all his successes.

“I-I… I can’t, Yoongi.”

He sighed and closed his eyes.

“(y/n) …”

“Thank you, Yoongi, truly, it means so much.”

He shook his head and motioned to the check.

“Then just take it.”

“I don’t want it.”

“But you said so yourself that place is perfect! You were in love with it!”

You nodded, trying to keep your cool. Did he have to keep reminding you how great it was?

“Yes. But I cannot afford it. There will be other places.”

“You can afford it if you take this. Please, (y/n), this won’t hurt me in anyway financially, I’m good. I want you to be, too.”

“I am good, Yoongi. I work hard and I’m saving. This place is just not it and I have to accept that. Maybe a time will come where I can afford someplace like it, and when it does it will be just as perfect.”

He rolled his eyes.

“How do you know you’ll find another place?? Jesus, you’re so fucking stubborn sometimes, (y/n).”

Your hands balled up into fists. Okay that was it. Calling you stubborn because you wanted to be self sufficient had made you hit your boiling point.

“I’m stubborn? How about I just don’t want to be your charity case, idol Min Yoongi, hmm?” you whispered harshly to him, “I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t want your help; I don’t need your help. I’m a fucking adult, too, you know, just because I don’t make millions doesn’t mean I can’t make smart financial decisions. God, do you think I’m just that pathetic?”

You got up to leave, so over this conversation.

Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut.

“What? Fuck, (y/n), no I don’t think you’re pathetic. If anything… I-I’m the pathetic one.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes before marching back toward the elevators and hitting the down arrow button.

Yoongi followed.

“Do you know why?” he asked, jumping into the elevator with you before the doors could close.

It was just the two of you as it began its long descent down 19 floors.

You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why what? Why you’re pathetic?” you snorted, “Because you just offered your friend an obscene amount of money for something you have no part in?”

He looked down at the floor and took a deep breath.

Finally, he peered back up at you and his dark brown eyes met yours.

“Well, that, and because,” he paused, shuffling nervously on his feet, “because I’m having a really hard time telling that same friend how I truly feel about her.”

Your heart stopped and your mouth fell open again, in a different kind of shock.

“What?” you said softly.

“Fuck, I love you, (y/n)!” the pale skin of his face turned a bright red, and he took his gaze away again, “Aiiisshh, I’m sorry, I’m just horrible at showing my emotions and telling people how I feel. I guess I was hoping offering you the money would help you understand but I didn’t even think how it would come off, I just wanted you to know that I support you and I want to be apart of your decisions in life as more than a friend and- “

You cut off his worrisome rant by flinging yourself towards him and kissing him hard. It was his turn to be shocked, but he instantly got the memo and pushed you back against the wall of the elevator in passion. He wrapped his arms around your waist, his large hands grazing the bare skin of your lower back under your shirt. You gripped your hands in his blonde locks.

The elevator let out a ding signaling you had reached the first floor. You pulled away from each other, panting from the heat of the moment. You smiled.

“I love you, too, Yoongs. But I’m still not taking your money.”

He rolled his eyes and snorted.

Then you started to exit the elevator, but you felt him grab your wrist.

“Wait.”

You turned back toward him with confused eyes.

He grinned at you, his eyes suddenly full of lust.

“Do you maybe... want to see my new studio?”

*

Masterlist

[takuyakistall]

tuna | anniversary special

Synopsis: A normal day in Yuu's new life in NRC but, somehow, today made them feel a little bit nostalgic.

Notes: I wanted to write something for Twisted Wonderland's anniversary! This game really means so much to me and I don't think I would've picked up writing again if I didn't stumble upon it. Something about Grim and Yuu's relationship makes me emotional and the fact that Grim got a new card in the game didn't help me cope at all. I ended up writing this fic as a result, this is just purely fluff! (I think) I hope you guys like this.

The smell of charred coal and an oily can of tuna greeted Yuu's nostrils as they stirred awake, grumbling incoherent words as their eyes adjusted to the sudden sunlight entering their room through the window. It was almost peaceful.

Almost.

Had it not been for Grim feasting on his tuna noisily and messily. Yuu sighed as they stood up from their bed and began to arrange it—folding the sheets, dusting the pillows and set them aside neatly. The creaking of the floorboards with each step they took used to unnerve them, afraid that it might give in one day but Yuu learned to get used to it. Though sometimes they can't help but worry for the day when it actually gives in. Maybe they could ask Headmaster Crowley before that happens?

Yuu shook their head and dismissed the thought. The last thing they wanted to hear was Crowley spouting nonsense all over again and then disappearing without a trace. Judging from all the times Crowley has let them down, who's to say that he won't do it again? They pulled out the wooden chair placed by the table and scrunched their face when they saw how Grim was eating.

"You're making a mess everywhere!" Yuu scolded, trying to snatch the tuna can from his hands (paws?) before he could knock the other stuff down on the table. Grim didn't bother refuting as he sat back lazily on the chair, a satisfied grin on his face.

"Mhm... That was delicious~!" Grim let out a merry sigh. The breakfast he'd been used to everyday wasn't something he would look forward to or enjoy. Living in an abandoned dorm meant that no one else was there to cook for them but theirselves and there was no way Yuu was letting the ghosts handle the cooking. As a result, most of their meals were either bland or too little in terms of portions—Crowley wasn't one to ensure these types of things so that's one more thing Yuu adds to the list of 'Why I don't like the Headmaster'.

So when Grim found a can of tuna lying around somewhere, he didn't waste a second to grab the golden opportunity in front of him. Though there was one tiny little problem with what Grim did.

Yuu got that for their breakfast today.

Together.

And much to their misfortune and Grim's doom, the can was empty. Yuu had to pause for a moment to process the sudden discovery—Grim ate all of the tuna. They had to clench their fist tightly so as to not grab the ribbon tied around Grim's neck and shake him like a pepper shaker. Grim was blissfully unaware of the way Yuu was giving him glares that could kill and continued to relish himself in his euphoria. Though that was short-lived when Yuu decided to open their mouth, gentle anger lacing their voice.

"Grim. Did you eat all of the tuna?" They crossed their arms across their chest, a perfect close eyed smile on their face as they tilted their head slightly when they questioned Grim. He froze for a moment, eyes widening and his lips slightly twitching as Yuu furrowed their eyebrows. Clearly, they saw how the sudden realization hit the raccoon-cat (or whatever he was) and how nervous he became. He needs to think of an excuse—fast.

"A-Ah! About this…" Grim started, throwing his paws around in the air, making out incomprehensible gestures. Though before they could hear his explanation, an important thought crossed over Yuu's mind and they felt their blood run cold.

"Hey… Grim. What time is it?" They didn't wait for a reply, feet already scrambling towards their closet as they vigorously looked for a clean uniform. Grim held a confused expression.

"Eh, time? Isn't it…"

"Grim you idiot! We're bloody late!"

"F'nya!! Why didn't ya tell me sooner!?"

"Oh so now it's my fault? You're the one who didn't wake me up!"

"Professor Trein is going to be so mad…"

"Just shut up and start walking!"

Both of them dashed out from Ramshackle, the doorknob at the entrance getting slightly jammed so Yuu had no choice but to break the rickety door down. Not that it was difficult though, burglars could've easily killed them during their sleep—that is, if people even manage to climb a whole mountain to bother stealing from them. They'll just have to explain the door incident to Headmaster Crowley as well later. That is, if they manage to talk to him at all.

But, for now, the only thing stuck in their heads was to run as fast as they can or else it was off with their heads!

“You’re late.” Their teacher, Professor Mozus Trein, spoke in a cold tone. Gingerly stroking his cat’s head as it purred but that didn't give Yuu and Grim any ease at all when they stood there, unmoving, at the classroom entrance. Yuu tried to keep a neutral expression, hands at their side and feet together. Grim, on the other hand, wasn’t doing so well with doing the same as Yuu. He had trouble standing straight on two legs so he decided to climb up Yuu’s back to their shoulder and stayed there.

The sudden shift in weight on one of their shoulders made them grimace slightly.

“Good morning, Professor. Please excuse my tardiness, it won’t happen again.” Yuu bowed slightly, hoping that this would all be over quickly and he would let them go to their respective chairs. They straightened their back, looking at Trein directly before he gave them a slight nod and returning his attention to the chalkboard in front.

Yuu and Grim let out a sigh of relief simultaneously as they quickly went to their respective seats with Grim hopping off Yuu’s shoulder. He grabbed a bunch of books from Yuu’s bag to stack them up. Sitting on it since he wasn’t tall enough to see on his own without the desk obstructing his view.

Yuu caught the sight of Ace trying hard to keep in his laughter in the corner of their eye. They wondered for a moment about what Ace could possibly be laughing about until they heard Grim snarl ever so slightly. As if a lightbulb suddenly popped up over Yuu’s head, it suddenly clicked all too well.

He was laughing at them.

Although Yuu didn’t particularly mind being laughed at by that clown, Ace Trappola, Grim didn’t share the same sentiment. They had to hold back Grim’s tail to stop him from throwing a fit during class—it was a good thing Professor Trein had his back turned or else they’d be in bigger trouble.

A few minutes into class and Yuu could already feel their head explode. Coming from a completely different world than Twisted Wonderland, there was no doubt that they were going to have difficulty understanding things from here. While History of Magic was indeed an interesting subject, Yuu couldn’t help but feel the need to pull their hair out when they saw what Professor Trein was writing on the board.

‘Those symbols… am I supposed to know them? This looks more like a summoning circle more than anything, how am I supposed to understand this?’

They slapped their forehead repeatedly and forced theirselves to stare at the board once more—hoping that staring at it for a while would miraculously make them understand whatever that is. Grim, on the other hand, looked like he was boding well—looking so studious and listening attentively. But the moment he picked up a pen, that’s when the image was ruined. Yuu had to stifle their laughter when they saw him struggle to write on paper.

While it was a bit mean to laugh at him, Yuu couldn’t deny the fact that the drastic change was hilarious.

“Yuu, is there something you’d like to share with the class?” Professor Trein suddenly called out their name. Their back straightened and their gaze immediately snapped to the teacher in front. It seems like the Professor was paying more attention to Yuu.

Someone in the classroom let out a snort. Small, but audible for it to be heard by everyone in the dead silent classroom.

“Ace Trappola, do you have something to say as well?”

Ace stood up almost immediately.

“N-Nothing, Professor!”

Yuu was a tiny bit glad that Ace slipped up. At least they won’t be alone when Professor Trein decides to punish them. They shot a mischievous look at Ace, sticking their tongue out that screams: Serves you right!

“Dismissed.” With one single word from Trein, the class burst into a series of relieved sighs and yawns—a few ones groaning here and there but they were eventually glared at by the Professor and his poofy cat. Ace sluggishly walked towards Yuu and Grim with Deuce, who looked as fresh as ever, following behind.

“Hey, did you get everything Professor Trein said? Today’s class was sooo boring.” Ace whined, crossing his arms over his chest as he asked his three friends.

“Nope.” Yuu answered truthfully as they put back their pen into their case.

“Not at all…” Deuce closed his eyes and clutched his forehead.

“Hmph! Of course I did, I even took down notes.” Grim was proud as he puffed out his chest. Ace’s eyes perked up for a moment, wondering if he would let him view his notes until a sudden realization struck him. He wouldn’t be able to decipher Grim’s terrible handwriting in the first place. His expression slowly turned into one of disappointment—something akin to the feeling of finding out your name wasn’t in the Top 50.

Deuce was the first to comment. “These are….. Notes?”

“Grr! What’s that supposed to mean!?”

“It looks like a bunch of scribbles made by a cat.” Yuu added. Grim was about to be fuming mad until his ears drooped down slightly, Yuu felt a pang hit their chest. Could they possibly be feeling bad?

“Well… I’ll give you an A for effort.” Yuu patted Grim’s head, hoping that they didn’t hurt his feelings too much after that comment. Instead of lifting his spirits up, Grim felt like his soul got crushed. He felt like Yuu pitied him more than actual commendation, but he won’t say anything. He’ll take the crumbs of praise he can get.

Ace straightened up and walked towards the exit, dragging his legs slightly as he called out his friends. “Oi! Let’s go have lunch already, I’m starving!”

“Coming!” Deuce replied before promptly poking Yuu’s shoulder to make sure that they heard Ace.

“Alright, alright. Give me a minute to fix all my stuff, you guys can go ahead.” Grim stared at Yuu, wondering who should he go with—Yuu or Ace and Deuce? He was going to accompany the Heartslabyul Duo until he remembered how Yuu didn’t get to eat breakfast because of him.

He felt a little bit bad for leaving them like this.

He opened his mouth to say that he’s going to stay with Yuu until they suddenly cut into his thoughts like a knife into butter.

“Grim, you can go ahead too. Save a seat for me while you’re at it.”

“Are ya sure?” Grim asked them for reassurance.

“...? Are you going to miss me or something?” Yuu teased.

“No way! Nevermind, I’m leaving!”

Yuu watched as the Ace, Deuce, and Grim exited the door before letting their smile drop into a frown. They wondered if today was an okay date to ask the Headmaster about progress on the whole ‘find Yuu a way back home’ thing. But, there was a possibility that their visit to his office will be all for naught. Crowley was someone unpredictable, after all—eccentric is another way to put it nicely.

They tapped their fingers against the desk rhythmically. Dozens of thoughts running inside their head. The chatter outside the classroom cutting their train of thoughts continuously which annoyed them to death but it was something they took comfort in. The nostalgic noises of a bustling school filled with students going on and about.

It reminded them of their homeworld.

Yuu decided to look for Crowley as they stood up from their chair. A nostalgic bitterness lingering in their mouth as they left.

“Why did I think I would find him today?” Yuu asked no one in particular. Eyes glued to the wall clock as they counted the minutes they had left before break ended and classes started again. They silently dwelled on their regret of visiting Crowley’s office, it was nothing but a waste of time. Now they had less than 30 minutes to go into the cafeteria to get some food.

Each step they took was taxing. They put too much force with every one and perhaps that was a result of getting mad at a useless bird—their temper can’t help but explode a little bit. By the time Yuu arrived, they spotted the idiot trio sitting by the window. They had already finished eating long ago but they were still there. A thought popped into their head.

‘Could it be…? They were waiting for me!?’ Yuu knew it was nowhere near the truth but perhaps they can indulge theirself once in a while with these kinds of thoughts. Grim was the first to spot them.

“Where were you!? Break is almost over.” The grumble Yuu’s stomach let out made their cheeks heat up in embarrassment. Maybe it was because they skipped breakfast? Grim felt bad. This was his fault, wasn't it? Ace and Deuce urged Yuu to go buy something to eat but one look at the line formed by the counter, Yuu immediately declined. They’re going to be late for class if they waited!

Grim stared at the small portion of lunch he set aside for himself for later. Much to no one’s surprise, it was fish. He had a debate with himself—asking if he wanted to keep this or offer it to Yuu. In the end, he went for the latter. He nudged Yuu with his paw before holding up the plate with his two paws.

“Have this if you want… Ya didn’t get to eat breakfast because of me, right? I feel kinda bad but here.”

Ace’s eyes were wide in shock and Deuce dropped his yogurt. Yuu was flabbergasted at the sudden nice gesture Grim was showing but-

“Sorry, but I don’t want rabies.”

Grim had to resist the urge to set everything on fire. Yuu had to bite back a laugh when they saw how mad Grim was—denying everything about him having rabies. The troubles they had about Crowley were long gone and replaced by the bubbling happiness growing in their chest. The sight of their friends—Grim, Ace and Deuce—was enough to convince them to forget about it. Even if it’s just for a short while.

The nostalgic taste danced in the tip of their tongue once again. A sudden wave of sadness washing over them as they thought about the day when they’ll eventually go back to their own world.

I’ll miss this. Definitely.

They looked up to see Grim causing a mess with Ace holding him back and Deuce trying to summon another cauldron. Yuu shook their head.

But, for now, let’s focus on the present.

Is it so bad that Yuu wanted the incompetent headmaster to stay incompetent? Just for a little longer, don’t find a way back.

[lonelypond]

Reunion For A Future

Love Live, NozoEli, NicoMaki, 1.35K, 1/1

Reunions are a special occasion, especially between friends who haven’t seen or spoken to each other in a while. It gives them the opportunity to share the intimate details of their lives while simultaneously basking in a feeling of nostalgia that reminds them of the simpler days of youth.

Ayase Eli had been spending so much time travelling with her dance group that it had been 18 months since she’d spent any time in Tokyo. And 15 years since she’d spent more than a brief half hour at the Otonokizaka School she had worked so hard to save. Eli frowned. Her wife, Nozomi, would chide her for creating frown lines probably. Eli chuckled.

“Heading straight for the student council room?” Yazawa Nico stepped out of a shadow, large sunglasses, mask, trenchcoat.

Eli shook her head, “I thought you were staying in Numazu.”

“My wife…” Nico still sounded so proud when she used that phrase, “decided she wanted to meet me in the music room so she’s dropping off the girls at her parents. And I snuck in here. Everyone thinks Nico is too busy.”

“Nozomi thought you’d be here no matter what you told the press.”

“How is she?”

Eli sighed, “Tired of travelling, I think.”

Nico had spent too much time tired of travel to talk about it. “Doesn’t seem much smaller. People always say their school seems smaller.”

“It’s been 15 years.” Eli looked around her, “It does seem a little smaller.” Eli glanced down at Nico, raising an eyebrow.

“Nico appreciates your not making that joke.

“Nozomi or Maki would do it so much better.”

Nico shoved Eli, “Don’t be a loser. Where is Nozomi?”

“I don’t know. She wanted to surprise me.”

“So student council room.”

“Probably.”

“Maki’s waiting in the music room.”

“Well, it was nice to see you.”

“Bet you make it to the reunion before Nico.”

ELi channelled Umi, “I will not be taking that bet, Yazawa. Don’t do anything…”

“Shameful?” Nico winked.

“Don’t you want to set an example for your daughters?” It was ridiculous to talk to Nico about anything serious when she had that gremlin twinkle in her ruby eyes, but Eli enjoyed their friction.

“They’re not here.” Nico paused, turning to watch pink cherry blossoms melt into a bold twilight blue, “But everything started here.” Nico turned back to the school, bowing. “Thanks for saving it, my friend.”

“We all did.”

###

“You’re late.”

Eli knew Nozomi couldn’t fit in her high school uniform but here she was, looking fresh from graduation, skirt shorter than regulation, shirt very very form fitting, her hair braided, her green tie matching her sparkling eyes.

“I ran into Nico.” Eli kissed Nozomi on the cheek, “Did they take back your diploma?

“No.” Nozomi caught Eli in a hug, pulling the taller woman into a nicely comfy chair, “Just got nostalgic. You’ve been gloomy all week.”

“They upgraded the furniture.” Eli deflected, patting the padded arm of the leather chair Nozomi had dropped them into. A large desk had replaced the shoved together tables of their era. Eli wondered what the current student council president was like.

“How’s Nico?”

“Short.” Eli snickered. “And on her way to a private concert.”

“They didn’t bring the girls?”

Eli shook her head, gloomy again. Nozomi sighed, flexing her fingers, and with a hum, stabbed for Eli’s ticklish spots.

“Nozomi…stop it…I…” Eli doubled over, choking out pained laughter.

“Tell me what’s wrong, Eli-chi?”

“I can’t.”

“You can. You have to talk to me, Eli, or I can’t help.”

Eli broke away from Nozomi. “No, you can’t help. We decided not to…and I don’t want to push you or force you…”

Nozomi leaned back in her chair. Her cards had been unclear on Eli’s mood and Eli had dropped no hints so Nozomi was guessing blind.

“Is this about Tokyo? Do you want to…”

“Of course, it’s about Tokyo, Nozomi, everyone we love is in Tokyo and everything we want to do is everywhere else and you don’t want children and I don’t know how you pack them for the road, even though Nico does, and here we are again, after so many years, so many cities, and it…it still feels like home, and I just feel so…disconnected, unmoored…lost.” Tears. Eli’s startling blue eyes. So many years fell away and Nozomi was 16 and scared and she knew the only thing that mattered in this world was filling those blue eyes with hope again. Eli was too shy to look at her. “I always thought our daughters would be walking through these halls.”

Nozomi was immediately out of her chair, her arms around Eli, holding her so tight, so there was no room for Eli to slip away, no room for more gloom, holding Eli so tight that Eli would feel as anchored as Nozomi always had with Eli’s arms around her. Eli relaxed, sobbing into Nozomi’s shoulder, “I’m sorry, Nontan.”

“It’s okay, everything’s fine, I love you, Eli.”

“I don’t want to want what you don’t.”

Nozomi turned Eli’s face gently, so Eli was looking directly at her, “I want that too.”

“Nozomi?” Eli stepped back, confused, but Nozomi kept an arm around her waist.

Nozomi laughed, twirling Eli into one of the comfy chairs and falling into the other, “I never told ya, but I never thought Nico would make it, giving up touring, screaming audiences, moving to Numazu, being a mom. I figured she and Maki would eventually hire a nanny or something and go back to the jet set lifestyle, not shuttle between grandparent visits and school vacations. But we’ve been watching them grow up, and their family grow up, and they’re just…” Nozomi inhaled, her eyes never leaving Eli’s, “who they’ve always been. But more. And they love it.”

“They do.”

Nozomi got quieter, “And they didn’t do it alone. No one let them fail, even when Maki was so sick after Ruby was born.”

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t want to have kids just so I wouldn’t be alone, Eli-chi. Or kids I would leave.”

“You would never do that.” Now Eli was leaning forward, sliding her chair closer to Nozomi, her gentle hand sweeping tears off beloved cheeks. “I know you.”

And Eli did. She knew everything about Nozomi, every quirk, every nightmare, every fantasy, every failing, and yet still, in those touchstone blue eyes gleamed total adoration.

Nozomi smiled, “I think our child would look like you.”

Eli gleamed, “As long as they care about people as much as you do.”

“Nico is going to talk our ears off with parenting advice.” Nozomi groaned dramatically.

“Maki is going to bury us in toys.” Eli said, remembering the roomful of plushies Umi and Kotori came back from the hospital to find after the birth of their son.

“But ours will be the cutest. And the coolest.” Nozomi stood, pulling Eli to her feet, lifting her in a spin-hug.

Eli giggled, “We’ll start calling Nico a grandma, she’ll hate that.”

“I like that. Granny Nico.” Nozomi put Eli down, stepping closer, eyes serious, Eli feeling a thrill as Nozomi’s voice dropped to a low whisper, “But I want to talk about you, Eli-chi, and how you still take all of my breath away.”

“Nozomi.”

###

Maki had opted for the trendiest little black dress available, playing her way through a mini concert of Muse songs in it surprisingly comfortably. And then Nico offered her arm, Maki took it, and pink suit and black dress resplendent, they walked through the halls, making their entrance into the decorated gymnasium. Nico glancing around, Maki catching the movements.

“Looking for your high school crush?” Maki asked, arching an eyebrow.

Nico rolled her eyes, “Nico will deal with you later. Eli and I had bet.”

“About?”

Nico spun, on tiptoe, surprising Maki with a kiss, “Who’d hit the dance floor first. But it’s a slow dance. Join me?”

Maki, blushing, nodded, and they drifted easily around the dance floor, the year of their meeting taking up as much of their attention as the fourteen years after, this one night.

A/N: The Idol Fanfic Heaven server is running an event where you can riff off an opening paragraph and I've been steeping some NozoEli thoughts.

[writteninkat]

ii - rubies?!

word count - 1,903

warnings - mention of scars

"he's so tall and handsome as hell. he's so bad but he does it so well."

index

As you waited for April to come around, you spent your remaining days working out and training your quirk on your own. You didn't want to look for your father nor did you want to bump into him- the only time you wanted to see him was during UA's sports festival where you know he'll be watching so you can rub it in his face how good your life is without him.

As you work out in your apartment building's gym, you can't keep the blond out of your head. Was he doing alright? Should you have asked for his phone number at least? Where did he study? Was he even from this area?

Your mind races and wanders around thoughts about the blond, causing you to trip on your own feet on the treadmill. Before your hands come in contact with the running deck, you feel strong arms wrap around your waist, saving you from the fall but not from the embarrassment.

You take a few moments to stop and think about what just happened, allowing the whole thing to just sink in. I almost tripped because I was thinking about some guy. Stupid mistake.

Your savior puts you down beside the treadmill, hands immediately letting go of your waist. "You okay?" Despite having such buffed-up arms, he had such a sweet voice. You look to your right, checking to see the face of your knight in shining armor.

"My name's Izuku Midoriya." He smiles widely, extending his hand towards you. You take it, smiling back. "Y/n L/n, and yeah, I'm alright. Thanks for saving me, I could have attended my first day in UA with a bandage on my forehead." You chuckled, watching the guy's facial expression turn into excitement.

"No way! You'll be attending UA? That's crazy so am I!"

Your eyes widen, finally someone I can be close to in that new school. "What class are you in?" You move to turn off the treadmill, picking up your water bottle from the floor. You unscrew the cap, taking large sips as you looked at him, waiting for an answer. "Class 1A."

The water backfires, going down the wrong pipe. You cough out the water, rubbing your chest in pain as Midoriya pats on your back in worry. "You okay? Again?"

You wave your hand at him, coughing a few more times before clearing your throat. "So am I." Your voice comes out rough and broken but still understandable.

For the rest of the day, you chat with Midoriya, getting to know each other as you helped each other work out. Like whenever you needed help with your form, he'd guide you. When he needed more weight on his back as he did push up, you were more than happy to sit on him as you scrolled through your cellphone.

As the end of the day, before the two of you part, he asks for your number so it would be easier to contact you. You kind of regret giving it to him cause he wouldn't shut up about the heroes he looked up to. He was such a hero nerd you found it funny.

When he calmed down and told you good night, you hit the sack yourself, images of the angry blond with beautiful ruby eyes filling your head as you fell asleep with a smile. And honestly, that was the best sleep you've had in years.

You're walking yourself to your new school, heart drumming against your chest. The feeling was a little too nostalgic, it was the same feeling you felt back when you came to UA for the practical exam. It felt like time went by a little too fast. You calm your mind, remembering your mom's text to you earlier that morning, telling you good luck with your first day.

You try recalling your goal- to become a hero despite my father telling me I couldn't. To become a hero, to become a hero to become-

"Hey Y/n!" Midoriya waves at you, his smile as bright as the sun. It's sickening but you shrug it off, it suits his face. "Oh, I hope it's alright if I call you Y/n."

"Only if I can call you Izuku." You wink at him, smiling as you continue your way towards the building. As Izuku rambled on about how nervous he was for today that he couldn't sleep properly, your mind raced back to the thought of the school uniform being uncomfortable.

You were so used to wear pants that showing off your legs seemed taboo to you. Don't get it wrong, you like your legs, you think they're okay. But you've been wearing pants maybe eighty percent of your life that you don't like showing even your knees. You can't sit the way you want with skirts- especially if the way you want is your legs either parted apart as you sink onto your chair or your legs on the desk as you scroll through your phone lazily.

Given that it was school rules to wear a uniform, you decided to cover up your legs with black thigh high instead, cursing at the skirt for being a little bit too short for your liking.

"Here it is." Izuku points up at the board right above the classroom door that read 1A. "I just hope I'm not classmates with Tenya or Kacchan." He chuckles, reaching for the door.

"Tenya? That glasses dude who seemed like someone pissed in his cheerios the morning of the exam?" Izuku nods his head but your mind wasn't at ease just yet. Who the hell was this Kacchan?

Your mind wanders again but your thoughts clear away when you hear two people arguing.

"Take your feet off that desk now." You chuckle, recognizing that voice. You mentally send a sorry to Izuku's way.

"Hah?" And that voice too!

You look up, scanning the room and looking for your two new classmates who were arguing. Iida's back covers who he's getting mad at, forcing you to step inside the classroom to get a better look.

"It's the first day and you're already disrespecting this academy by scuffing school property you cretin."

"You're kidding me right? Your old school put a stick in your ass?"

As you thought, that voice belonged to the same guy who's been infiltrating your head ever since you met him. Day and night. However his attitude caught you off guard, he wasn't this rude when the two of you met.

"Rubies?" You say out loud, the blond, or as Izuku calls him, Kacchan looks your way, eyes widening at the sight of you in the same classroom as him. His once smug expression is wiped off his face as he stares at you, completely taken off guard.

Tenya and a brown haird girl who looked a little too much like Kirby approached Izuku and they began talking to him. You, in the other hand, are being pulled out of the classroom by the blond. His hand still as soft as you remember, his grip isn't even that tight around your wrist. Just enough to tug you to where he wanted to bring you without hurting you.

The two of you stand right outside the door leading to the back of the classroom. He turns around, smug expression completely gone and replaced by confusion.

"You never told me you went to UA." He says, stuffing his hands in his pocket as he leans his side on the wall. You cross your arms on your chest, leaning to the side as you rest most of your weight on one leg. "You never asked." The two of you look at each other in silence for a few moments, your heart going haywire in your chest as he keeps his eyes on you. Such eyes that could keep you in a cage of trance forever.

Bakugou opens his mouth but before he could get a word out, a tired voice cuts him off. "Get inside the classroom." He tired-looking man with unkept hair and peach fuzz tells you both. Was he the school janitor? Nevertheless, the both of you walked back inside the classroom, Bakugou's eyes silently telling you that the two of you were going to finish the conversation later.

You sat down on your seat, eyes following the same tired-looking man as he stood in front of the class. "My name is Shota Aizawa. I'll be your homeroom teacher from now on."

He hands all of you your PE uniforms, telling you all to quickly change into them. You follow the girls to the changing rooms and you hang your PE uniform on your locker, already unbuttoning your uniform but you stop yourself.

I can't show them that.

A girl with long black hair, similar to yours, looks at you from the side, her expression questioning. "I don't think Aizawa sensei is okay with late students. You should quickly change."

You wrap your hands around yourself, cringing at the thought of other eyes on your body. The girl's expression changes into a softer one and she smiles, "Don't worry, nobody here will judge. All bodies are beautiful the way they are."

Exactly, yeah. If these girls were going to be your second family until you graduate highschool, you shouldn't be afraid. You can trust them, right?

Slowly, with slightly trembling hands, you begin unbuttoning your uniform. Taking a deep breath in, you slip your long sleeve down your body, showcasing the many scars that littered all over your back.

You can feel the atmosphere change into a silent, much colder one and your thoughts begin to race. Was it wrong for you to show them this? You've only been together for a few hours, how could you show such a vulnerable side of yourself?

Your eyes squeeze shut, ready for the comments and snickers but instead you hear a squeal. "We have the same bra!" A pink girl squeals, pointing at her pink lacy bra. A smile creeps onto your face as the girl extends her hand towards you, "I'm Mina Ashido. Nice to meet you, twinnie!" She perks and as soon as you take her hand, she shakes it softly before pulling away.

You quickly dress up into your PE uniform, pulling your hair up into a ponytail. "Woah, L/n! The white streaks on your hair look so cool! Where did you get them done?" Mina asks, completely taken by your hair, her eyes sparkling as you flushed at her compliment. No one has ever complimented your hair so genuinely like that before, makes you feel kind of proud having it.

"It's actually natural. My dad has black hair and my mom has white." The girls begin to ooooh and soon after, you all have reached the fields. Aizawa stands beside a white square with a device in his hand, patiently waiting with lazy eyes on his students.

"You should put your hair up like that more. I think the white streaks are cool." Bakugou tells you, his eyes and face forward as he listens to Aizawa talking.

You wouldn't tell him, but his words had your stomach feeling weird things and you feel your face slowly heat up. You swallow whatever you were feeling and face forward.

"Don't tell me what to do, rubies."

You had to buy more ponytails.

[xiaomoxu]

Lucien’s Rumors & Secrets – Season 2: 暗蚀 “Eclipse (Internal Erosion)”

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

Latest Rumors & Secrets from CN server which hasn’t been released in EN server. Contains detailed spoiler from the main story. It comes with Lucien’s Karma for Chapter 10-13 Season 2.

CHAPTER 1

Part.1

"Lucien, are you really anxious to go back?"

"Sorry, Professor Ren, I do have important matters in China."

"Then at least, let’s go for dinner after this.”

"I appreciate your kindness, but the time may be a little tight." Lucien smiled apologetically, "When you want to go back to China, let me do your favor. The research I mentioned earlier, I will start as soon as possible."

Part.2

Professor Ren watched him neatly put the things on the desk into the cardboard box, and sighed softly. From studying to becoming a member of this institute, Lucien is his most proud student. Both academic and work are hard to fault. He believed that Lucien could do well from scratch after returning to China, but...

"Well, I can't hold you back, but there is one more thing I must ask you."

Lucien stopped his hand movement, "You said."

Part.3

"We have known each other for several years, and I found that you are always alone no matter what. You are indeed much better than most people, but have you never thought about trying to let others into your world?"

"I understand that many things do depend on the strength of the team.”

Professor Ren shook his head, "I mean something outside of work, about yourself."

"Thank you for your concern, but for me, this is great now."

Part.4

After Lucien finished speaking, he continued to bow his head to pack his things. Professor Ren looked at him for a while and suddenly smiled.

"Forget it, I can't figure out what you young people are thinking, Lucien, in fact, everyone is a very good subject on their own, and you can study it if you have time.

Professor Ren smiled and patted Lucien on the shoulder, without saying more.

Part.5

The plane flew smoothly in the night sky, the lights in the cabin were turned off, and Lucien closed his book and closed his eyes to take a nap. In about ten minutes, light suddenly appeared in the pitch-black vision. Lucien fixed his eyes to distinguish it, and there seemed to be a field of flowers in front of him. The fine rain was lightly tapping the flowers. When he was about to turn around to take a look, a mass of warmth hit his back, and soon some kind of cool liquid was soaked his clothes. He turned his head and saw a girl burying her head on his back and whispering. The flower field behind her was stained with color because of her presence. The blue and purple hydrangea clusters trembling in the light rain, like a girl's intermittent breathing.

The plane bumped and awakened Lucien from his dream. He slowly opened his eyes, as if he could still smell the faint fragrance of flowers.

Part.6

It was the kind of lucid dream that he couldn't refuse. Even in light sleep, he would find a gap and get into his mind. He should have felt irritable, but the real color and temperature in the dream made him a little nostalgic.

Lucien subconsciously stroked his heart, waiting for his heartbeat to stabilize. It seems that there are some emotions that are rarely experienced. He wants to catch but can't catch it, so he can only try to figure it out a little bit patiently.

However, in a few hours, those familiar street scenes in the dream will appear in front of him.

He believes that he will find a way to solve the mystery here, or meet the girl in his dream who bring color.

CHAPTER 2

Part.1

The first independent research paper of the institute was successfully published. The researchers breathed a sigh of relief and prepared to celebrate. As the initiator of this research, Lucien naturally couldn't escape the celebration wine. On the way to the bar after work, the young researchers couldn't help whispering: Professor Lucien, who is always immersed in scientific research, has been to the bar, what is the amount of alcohol, and how will he deal with the girls who strike up?

Lucien followed the group of people and walked into the bar. The boss behind the bar saw him sharply, raised his hand to greet him, and then personally led everyone to a deck.

"Please sit down. It's quiet here. Professor Lucien specially asked me to reserve a place.

Part.2

Lucien motioned his colleagues to sit first. However, everyone hadn't recovered from the surprise, so he had to take a seat first and briefly explained.

"When I was not busy before, I would come to sit and chat with the guests here."

The boss handed over the wine list and followed Lucien's words smoothly.

"Who can you talk to Professor Lucien? I don't know how many people come to me every day to see him."

"The boss is joking, what really makes you linger is your special tone." Lucien handed the wine list to the colleagues around him. “Today, I invite everyone to drink whatever they want. "

Part.3

After a few glasses of wine, the researchers who usually don't drink much were a little drunk, Lucien also leaned on the back of the sofa, letting him relax for a while. In fact, he has no thoughts of celebration. This paper is just to make the research institute appear in a wider field of vision. It will be more convenient to be noticed by some necessary people in the future.

It was getting late, and Lucien found an excuse to leave temporarily and was going to settle the bill in advance. The boss was changing discs in the operating room, and the gentle jazz was flooding the bar. Lucien realized that the noise tonight had ended a little early.

Part.4

“It is raining heavily tonight, and it is estimated that not many people will come to play." The boss settled the bill quickly, and didn't forget to help Lucien get a discount. "A Foggy Day, Professor Lucien played this song when he first came here, did I remember correctly?"

Lucien smiled and nodded, and subconsciously looked at the glass window that was not far away. Late at night, the rain came quickly and violently. As long as someone opened the door, the wind that penetrated into the house would blow a string of aluminum film ornaments on the window up and down. The shattered reflections and the rain marks on the glass windows made the scene in the aftermath blurry.

The boss took out a paper towel for the guests to wipe off the rain, Lucien thought about it, and took one and folded it easily. An "experience" that had never been experienced before dragged his fingers, and soon folded out a paper crane.

Part.5

The boss caught a glimpse of what was in his hand and was about to say something, but he saw Lucien quickly take the paper crane apart again. On the recovered tissue, there was nothing but a few creases, but he stared at it for a long time.

"Professor Lucien?"

The boss's voice rang in his ears, Lucien finally recovered and withdrew his gaze.

"Sorry, I may have drunk a bit too much today."

Part.6

"Don't be greedy, you should rest early for scientific research."

Lucien nodded and thanked the boss, walked to the bathroom, and took a deep breath into the mirror. The moment he folded the paper crane, he suddenly thought that someone had left a wish related to him in it, and that was exactly what he wanted. He opened the paper crane and tried to capture the traces of this wish, but found nothing.

Some kind of hot and inexplicable pain wrapped his heartbeat. Is it drunk, or is it a lucid dream?

Part.7

At this moment, he really wanted to sleep, but it was not for rest, but for the dream to complete the broken picture. He had to admit that no matter how vigilant he was, he still couldn't ignore the existence in the dream. But chasing such a unknown thing is too risky, should I bet on it? The phone in his pocket vibrated suddenly, interrupting Lucien's thought. The girl's name appeared on the screen and congratulated him on his successful publication of the paper. He looked at the name and typed a few words almost without thinking. "where are you?"

Part.8

She responded quickly, saying that she was at home, and then asked him if he was okay. Lucien's fingers paused, and she quickly covered up her gaffe with other topics.

If there is any sign of reality in the nothingness in the dream, it is "color". He has only seen such a color in one person. Lucien put away the phone and made a decision quickly.

He wants to be closer to her, maybe it would be a good choice to be a neighbor.

CHAPTER 3

Part.1

On the second day, the atmosphere of the institute was a little bit wrong. Lucien greeted his colleagues as usual, but found that everyone's sights were a little dodge, only the intern Pete came over and asked him in a low voice

"Professor Lucien, do you have a headache?"

"It doesn't hurt, what's the matter?"

"That's good, we don't know how much you drink, and we are worried that we persuaded you to overdo it last night"

"No, I know my limit."

Part.2

He looked around the people in the office, probably because of a hangover, everyone seemed a little slouched. Lucien sighed lightly, turned and walked into the office.

Half an hour later, the researchers received Lucien's puffs. Professor Lucien ordered puffs, which sounded as weird as "Professor Lucien went to the bar". After looking at each other for a while, Pete was appointed by everyone again and sent Lucien's share into his office.

"Thank you."

Part.3

Lucien looked up from the information, took the paper bag that Pete handed him, and saw his hesitant expression.

"what's wrong?"

"Ah, nothing! It's just a bit of a surprise. For the first time I know you like sweets."

“At this time, energy needs to be replenished quickly to make follow-up and less mistakes on works." Lucien smiled faintly, took the pile of materials on hand and gave it to Pete after he finished eating, “copy it for me and send it to everyone."

Part.4

Pete hurriedly picked it up and was about to leave the office. Before closing the door, he glanced at Professor Lucien, who was full of energy behind his desk, and his admiration increased.

Lucien opened the paper bag only when Pete left.

The rich aroma burst into the nasal cavity instantly, making Lucien feel strange for a moment, but the choice just now did not make him feel unreasonable. It seems that this kind of sweets is also a "frequent customer" in this research institute.

Part.5

Lucien hesitated, took out the puff and tasted it, frowning slightly.

It's too sweet, not his favorite taste.

...But what kind of flavor does he like?

Obviously he doesn't eat sweets very much, but inexplicably preset the sweetness. Even when he sees tears, he also knows what kind of saltiness it is because he has felt it in the scenes that suddenly appeared.

Part.6

Lucien had long understood that they were not ordinary illusions, but he did not expect that he would even be influenced. He experienced many things he had never experienced before in these untouchable pictures, like a mirror image of a certain fact.

He suddenly realized that maybe he didn't have any favorite taste, but the tip of his tongue remembered the taste he tasted for the first time, which has since defined his cognition.

Once the taste is developed, it is difficult to change it.

CHAPTER 4

Part.1

Lucien stood under the lush camphor tree again.

This is the place he visits most often in his dreams. Perhaps it overlaps with the experience in reality. He once thought that the picture here would never change into a big snow, wheat field, camphor tree, and waiting alone under the tree little boy. But this time, the picture didn't unfold as he knew it: the white snow dissipated, revealing the golden wheat field, and under the camphor tree, besides myself when I was a child, there was also a little girl. She folded a colorful paper crane like a magic trick and gave it to him. He stretched out his hand to take it, and the colorful colors leaped in his pupils.

He heard the girl ask him in an expectant tone if he would come here to meet her tomorrow. It sounded like an appointment to ask a question, but he didn't hear his answer.

Part.2

The dream stopped abruptly, Lucien opened his eyes and moved his sore neck. The finger subconsciously stroked the inner pocket of the jacket, and the red peace knot was still placed there. He seems to have become accustomed to such subtle deviations, which has become a way for him to distinguish between dreams and dreams.

In the gloomy laboratory, the Dream Recorder was hibernating quietly, and Lucien's face was reflected on the darkened screen. This machine has been secretly tested for four years. No matter how fragmented the dreams recorded each time, Lucien will print out the records and keep them. Today these records have been very thick, but there are still no clues that can reveal the secrets of dreams.

Part.3

Lucien opened the piece of printing paper at random, which recorded a dream not long ago.

He remembered that in that dream he was sitting next to a hospital bed, holding one hand

Holding a girl’s hand, and holding a book in the other hand. The book reads "Dreaming and madness seem to have the same substance. Their mechanism is the same..."

Part.4

The emotion that always follows the girl in the dream is once again wrapped in the chest. It is a desire to understand, almost desperate, but there is often pity and contradiction. He can assume that these scenes are real, but he maintains constant doubts about such emotions.

No matter how difficult the predicament is, Lucien seldom feels fear. He doesn't understand what is worth standing still under that urgent will. Lucien sorted out his emotions and turned on the machine in front of him again.

In the face of a huge unknown, everyone has a moment of madness due to being overwhelmed, and perhaps his current state is also like this. But he did not deny these dreams, because they just proved that something irreversible had happened.

CHAPTER 5

Part.1

When Lucien handed the record to Hypnos, the latter's gaze stayed on him for a while.

"Ares...no, Professor Lucien. Your recent experiments seem to have become more frequent."

"I just want to improve efficiency."

"Do you really think these fragmented dreams are useful?"

" If you want to form a perfect picture, a piece of fragments can't be missing.." Lucien met his gaze. "At present, it seems that only I can help you spell out the perfect world you want.”

Part.2

Hypnos raised his mouth slightly, "Your style is still more like Ares."

"As long as the purpose can be achieved, identity does not matter." Lucien looked at the subway station not far away, and walked towards that side first. "I also look forward to your efficiency, Hypnos."

The empty subway moved slowly, carrying its first passenger to the spring that has yet to come.

Part.3

Lucien got out of the car and stepped into the familiar wheat field. There was a lonely figure under the lush camphor tree with a kite in his arms. Lucien looked at it for a while and walked over and sat beside the little boy. The little boy didn't seem surprised by his arrival, he didn't even turn his head. The two people sat side by side in silence for a long time, and the little boy finally spoke.

"Have you found the person in your dream?"

"Not sure yet."

"Can I see her again?"

“We will see it.”

Part.4

Confirming that the dream was stable enough, Lucien stood up with the trunk behind him, his vision suddenly lit up.

He raised his head and found that the snow in front of him was gone, leaving only an endless wheat field. Several kites were raised high, like carefree birds. This was not what he had seen in his dreams, so he stood there and didn't move.

The wind started, Lucien narrowed his eyes slightly, and suddenly felt his little finger hooked. He turned his head and saw a clear smiling face-- was his neighbor, "rival", the girl who always wanted to be vigilant in front of him and often did stupid things.

Part.5

She didn't seem to mind Lucien's dazed expression, she still looked at him with eyebrows and shook his fingers.

Is it her... Is it her? Is she making an appointment with him?

Lucien eagerly wanted to grab her hand, but before touching her, all the scenes in front of him suddenly disappeared.

The fragments of spring remained in his eyes, and were washed away by a blank white. The heavy snow still didn't stop.

Part.6

Lucien looked up at the luxuriant camphor tree on his side, feeling that it looked like a kind of solemn guardian. Before he found the key, he would never open the secret door to him easily. However, at this moment, he seems to see a certain corner of his heart that has been in the dust for a long time, so that the complex emotions born from dreams can be traced slightly.

He has always wanted to know where these pictures came from, how they are related to the deviation of the world, and who is the person in the unclear dream; and behind all these desires, it is hoped that these pictures exist for a long time.

Perhaps when he didn't realize it, there were already people visiting in his world. He will also want to place something on a certain person, such as an agreement that will not miss an appointment, or a watch over the sky.

Part.7

Lucien left the dream. When he opened his eyes on the subway, Hypnos was sitting not far away.

"How, is it the effect you want?"

"It's very stable, but there is still one area that needs adjustment." Lucien turned his head and looked at the train door. "In this dream, there is always a part that cannot be opened. I suspect that will be the key to the whole dream."

"I just restored this dream based on your records. If you can't open it yourself, I can't help it."

Part.8

"This is not my own dream. Someone will help me open it."

"What do you need me to do?"

Lucien pondered for a moment, raising his eyes to look at the person opposite.

"Create a condition where the door can be opened to welcome guests."

Hypnos raised the corners of his lips slightly, "It seems that Professor Lucien has already chosen someone in his heart."

Part.9

Lucien lowered his eyes, and some interesting memories flashed in his mind.

The shadow under the desk, ten boxes of "small syringes" that disappeared, and "Miracle Finder"

Whether intentionally or not, the girl had given him many excuses to approach her, and invited her to step into this illusory dream.

He is looking forward to what kind of new world she can open up.

---END---

I swear, every time I translate Lucien’s part, my heartache is getting worse. Please let him be happy for once!!  (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)

Notes: I’m not planning to take another R&S after this (*/ω＼) Hope you guys enjoy reading this translation. Let me know if there’s a mistake ^^ THANK YOU~

[yslkook]

#do you have the bandwidth (7)

#corporate masterlist summary: the closer it gets to the new year, the more memorable moments you have. word count: 6.1k warnings: cursing, alcohol, discussion of mental health a/n: ENJOYYYY and thank you to @taestybae​ <333

After you had texted Jungkook after the holiday party, it seemed like neither of you went longer than a few days without texting each other. Most of it was for work related reasons- but Jungkook was aching to talk to you about anything outside of work.

And at work, his head spins when you spend a few extra minutes at his cubicle as you’re passing by-

“Your boss would be ashamed at the state of your desk plant,”

“We don’t all have a green thumb, okay-”

“You don’t need a green thumb to take care of a succulent, Jungkook! Look at it! She just needs a friend.”

“You be her friend then.”

“We are friends,” You murmur with a blinding smile, “Aren’t we?”

“Y-yeah,” Jungkook swallows nervously.

And then you had asked him if he wanted to have lunch with you and Seokjin, a request that had made his head spin. Do you even know what you’re doing to him?

From the oblivious smile on your face, he thinks not.

But it’s so easy to insert himself into conversation with you. You always look to him, to make sure if he has something to say, that he says it. You do that with everyone, really. Whether it’s at work or not-

“Hey, I made a lot of samgyeopsal last night,” You say, opening your container once you’re seated at the table, “Figured you’d want some?”

Jungkook looks at you and then the container a few times. His stomach rumbles and his heart flips, a betrayal of his own body. 

You’re already placing some in his plate without asking, along with some rice. It’s all so very domestic, despite the fact that you’re both in the middle of the office cafeteria.

“Jin likes samgyeopsal, too,” You muse, “Especially the way Grandma makes it. Grandma cooks so much better than me. She says Appa used to cook better than me, too.”

You laugh and Jungkook is stunned. He doesn’t think you’ve ever opened up about home to him before. 

“What else do you like cooking?” 

Your eyes light up as you rattle off different things you’re trying. You tell him you want to become better at baking-

“I’m a ready and willing test subject, here at your service.”

“Oh, really?” You snort, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Jungkook eats his food in awe, his eyes wide and sparkling and lips tinted with sauce. It surprises you, how eager you are for his reaction. He moans in satisfaction, even closing his eyes as he chews.

Your face heats up. The noise that comes out of his mouth should most definitely be inappropriate for the general public of the office cafeteria.

“So much better than anything I could offer you,” Jungkook groans.

“I’m sure I’ll think of something, Jungkook.”

And while the end of the year means that things are starting to wind down with the holidays approaching- everyone is out of the office from Christmas Eve until the day after New Years- you still meet with your submissions team once before bowing out for the holiday.

It feels oddly nostalgic, as if you’re saying goodbye to friends rather than colleagues-

“Any plans, Sana?” Namjoon asks at the end of the meeting. All of your laptops are down, having finished your work about twenty minutes ago. 

This was the best part. Finishing the work early so that you could catch up with each other. Ever since Tokyo, you’ve felt the bonds between the four of you strengthen into something more than just workplace associates.

“Going to my grandparents’ with my dad,” Sana replies, leaning back in her chair, “You?”

“Visiting the family. I’ll be here for new years though,” Namjoon muses and turns to you.

“Oh, yeah. Me too,” You nod and Jungkook nods in agreement.

“Nobody’s traveling this year?” Namjoon asks, “We’re all wasting our youth. But our families are gettin’ older, huh?”

Namjoon is nothing if not tactful. 

“Maybe next year,” Jungkook jokes, eyes crinkling.

You groan and smack your palm to your forehead, “It’s too early for ‘next year’ jokes, Jungkook. Reign it in.”

“No such thing as too early,” Jungkook protests.

“You’re the type to come in the first day back and tell everyone that you haven’t seen them since last year,” You tease, and Jungkook lets out a surprised laugh.

“So what if I am? It’s a timeless joke!”

“Oh, is it?”

Namjoon rolls his eyes as you both playfully bicker. “Before we leave, since this is our last meeting for this project… Thank you for all of your hard work in the last few months. You’ve all really stepped up, and I’m proud to lead a team as strategic, smart, and flexible as this one.”

“Watch out, Namjoon, you’ll put a tear in my eye,” You interrupt with a grin. He shoots you an impressed glare and you shut your mouth.

“As you know, Tokyo will be here in February. And I expect nothing but the best from us. But until then… Enjoy the holiday, and be safe and well. And spend time with your loved ones.”

Jungkook catches the soft look in your eyes. You bite your bottom lip nervously, feeling like you have to say something. At least to Namjoon.

So you muster every ounce of bravery in you and open your mouth. “Thanks, Namjoon. For… everything.”

Well, nobody said you were a poet.

And sometimes you might text him after work, too. Sometimes you send pictures of your dinner and dessert to him. And he, without fail, compliments every single one of them with an array of emojis. 

Jungkook sometimes can’t believe it. He finds himself asking Taehyung if he’s dreaming- that you’re really texting him. Taehyung rolls his eyes and smacks the back of his head.

Sometimes when you try new wines with Grandma, you tell him about it. You send him snapchat videos once in a while, after a few glasses of wine detailing your assessment of the wine-

Hey. It’s me. Today, I tried this five year old pinot noir. Don’t even like pinot noir like that. Don’t you think all wines taste the same? Except pinot noir. Pinot noir tastes like the devil’s lettuce.

When you send him snapchat videos, his heart seizes in his chest at the flash of your name on his screen. The camera will be facing you, voice slurring and a little high pitched. In one of them, he thinks you’re in your bed, under the covers half asleep. 

And when he sends you little videos back, he stammers in nervousness. In fact, he drops his phone more than once while recording himself doing his skincare routine to send to you.

The fact that you willingly send him these silly snapchat videos of your sleepy voice, sends a flutter of butterflies through his belly.

Jungkook starts going to bed with a goodnight text from you more often than not.

You surprise him again, on a random Thursday night, asking him what he’s doing. It’s the Thursday before Christmas.

Normally, Seokjin is your go-to to text when you can’t sleep at night. But you find yourself curiously hovering over Jungkook’s text message thread more often than not these days.

Jungkook is playing video games and the moment he sees your name flash across his screen, he gets distracted. A chorus of protests echoes in his ears when he suddenly pauses to check his phone. It’s close to 1 AM, and he wonders what you’re doing awake.

you : hi you: what are you up to you: i cant sleep lol jungkook: is this a booty call? You: lmaoo shut up. if this was a booty call u would know jungkook: what’s a dude to think

Jungkook blames his next text on the fact that it’s after hours, also known as vulnerable hours.

jungkook: when a pretty girl texts u at 1 AM what am i meant to think you: idk, go ask whoever else is texting u at 1 AM 

Of course, you don’t take the bait. Who does he think he is?

you: i was just thinking about u

He pretends like his hands don’t shake as he types his response to you. It appears that he’s feeling brave tonight.

jungkook: want to facetime? 

His heart races in anticipation when he sees three dots on his screen. They go away in a flash and before disappointment settles in, you’re FaceTiming him.

Jungkook nearly fumbles his phone in his hand before he answers. 

“H-hi,” He mumbles in greeting, a tired smile gracing his features.

You cannot believe that you’re FaceTiming Jungkook. You don’t remember FaceTiming anyone who wasn’t Jin. You wonder if he can feel your nerves through the screen.

“Hi,” You say with a wave, “What are you wearing?” 

You wink at him, eyes dark, before bursting into laughter.

“I thought this wasn’t a booty call,” Jungkook deadpans. As if his cheeks aren’t pink from your words.

“‘S not,” You promise with a laugh,  “Were you sleeping?”

“Nah, I was playing video games with-”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I just barged in on your plans with your friends,” You say apologetically, chewing on your bottom lip, “I didn’t even ask if you were free-”

“Relax, I’m the one who asked if you wanted to FaceTime, remember?” Jungkook says soothingly, and you instantly feel your heart calming from the sincerity in his voice.

“Yeah. ‘Cause you thought this was a booty call,” You grin and Jungkook giggles.

What a sweet sound.

“I’m going to get into bed,” Jungkook murmurs, “Gimme a sec.”

He leaves his phone slanted on his chair, giving you a view of him walking away from you to refill his water bottle from the fridge. You can’t help but stare- even though his clothes are quite baggy, you can make out the outline of his ass through his sweatpants. 

He does have a nice peach. You’ve always thought so. You could probably bounce a quarter off of his ass. Not that you ever would.

“I feel like I’m in your pocket,” You say once Jungkook picks his phone up and heads to his bedroom. He makes sure the lights are off before heading in and closing the door and puts his headphones in his ears.

“You can be my pocket pal,” Jungkook says, getting comfortable in bed.

“How flattering.”

You’re cuddled under your covers on your side, the light from your nightstand illuminating your face. Jungkook sees dark circles lining your undereyes, and a tint of nervousness in your gaze.

You look cozy and cuddly, a little contemplative, and he wonders what’s on your mind. 

“Hey,” You say, voice turning a little serious, “Thank you. For… For answering my text. And for being my friend, in general.”

Your face is heating up, vulnerability pooling in your eyes. You want to look away- maintaining eye contact even through the camera feels like too much. But you’re working on it. You’re working on being more vulnerable to those around you. 

You want to let him in. It hurts how much you want to let him in.

“O-oh. You don’t… You don’t have to thank me for being your friend,” Jungkook stammers. How must you feel about yourself if you feel the need to thank him for just being a friend to you? “Are you...okay?”

Your eyes widen and you play with the hem of your shirt to distract yourself for a second. “Yeah-”

“You don’t have to pretend with me,” Jungkook says softly. 

You pause for a second, heart pounding in your ears. The only person you’ve ever talked to this about is Jin. But maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if you spilled your thoughts to Jungkook.

You’ve never been the best with words. 

“Um,” You say in a tight voice, “I just… I had a really hard day today at therapy. So I can’t sleep.”

Jungkook catches the hesitation in your tone. He’s not the best at comforting people, he thinks. But he’ll try, for you. For you, he’ll try anything.

“Are some days easier than others?” Jungkook asks, trying to probe what you’re comfortable with sharing and what you’re not.

“Yeah. I’ve had worse days, but this has been a tougher day than usual…”

“What do you usually do? On tough days?”

“Mostly just sleep. And then wake up feeling worse,” You laugh dryly.

“Maybe journaling would help. It’s a good way to get rid of the buzzing in your head,” Jungkook suggests and your eyes light up.

“Really? I’ve been thinking about it but I never know where to start,” You reply, “Do you journal?”

“Yeah, sometimes,” Jungkook nods, “You just write...Whatever comes to mind. Get it off your chest. You can make your journals pretty too, if you want.”

“I’ll look into it,” You muse, “Thanks, JK.”

Jungkook’s eyes turn into crescents as he gives you a blinding smile. “Talking to friends helps, too. Even if you don’t want to share everything. Just talking helps.”

Your smile begins to fall and Jungkook quickly tries to backtrack but you beat him to it. “I don’t… have many friends, Jungkook,” You say softly, “As you may have gathered by now. I don’t think I have much to offer.”

Another dry laugh. It breaks his heart a little. What do you think of yourself? Do you recognize when the room lights up when you enter it, when people laugh at your jokes, when people praise you? 

“You have me,” Jungkook says instantly, “You have me, you have Jin. I’m always here if you want an ear.”

“Even at 1 AM, when you’re playing video games with your friends and I’m the dumb bitch who interrupts-”

“Stop that,” Jungkook says firmly, “Yes, even at 1 AM. Especially at 1 AM.”

He reminds you of Jin, when he tells you to stop with the immediate self-deprecation. It makes you smile fondly.

“JK,” You say slowly, “I’m… here for you, too. If you ever need an ear.”

He throws you another blinding smile. It’s no surprise that your dreams that night are filled with that soft bunny smile.

As Seokjin claims, the best way to get to know someone is over food. Not that he’s wrong- but it’s the first time you’re meeting Yuna and you’re incredibly nervous.

You feel like you’re going on a first date. This unfamiliar first date feeling keeps creeping back more and more lately. How bothersome.

Grandma even asks you why you’re so jumpy-

“You finally going on a date?”

“No! I’m meeting Jin’s new girlfriend. Her name is Yuna,” You roll your eyes.

She gasps, “It’s about time someone snatched that boy up, if you wouldn’t.”

You arrive about ten minutes early to brunch, tapping your foot against the floor restlessly as you scroll through your phone. You wait at the table for them to arrive-

Jin nearly screeches your name from across the restaurant. A pretty woman, Yuna you presume, only laughs at his antics. She loops an arm around his upper arm easily. Despite many of the restaurant patrons glaring at them for causing a scene, Jin pays it no mind.

“Hi,” You breathe and Jin pulls you to him for a tight hug. He holds you in his arms, peering at you as if you’re transparent. “You gonna let me say hi to Yuna, or are you gonna keep staring?” You ask dryly.

Jin gasps, clearly affronted, “I haven’t seen you in days! Excuse me, for missing my best friend.”

“You’re excused,” You grin, but squeeze his arm in appreciation.

Yuna waves at you from next to Jin, rolling her eyes at him. “If he ever lets go of you, maybe I can finally say hello…”

“I knew this was a bad idea. Bringing you both together,” Jin grumbles.

“Hey, you made your bed. Now lay in it,” Yuna says, rubbing his cheek fondly.

To your surprise, Yuna doesn’t pull you for a hug immediately. Instead, she shakes your hand. It might seem awkward to anyone else, but you appreciate it. You appreciate not being hugged by someone you had just met. Jin probably told her that you don’t like impromptu hugs.

You’ve been on edge all morning. But it starts to fade away, slowly. When you sit down next to Yuna and across from Jin. Jin doesn’t mind that you both are engrossed in conversation without him- in fact, he encourages it. He only watches with adoring eyes, drinking his coffee.

“How did you and Jin meet,” You ask curiously, “He gave me the big picture, but lemme hear the details!”

“Seokjin! You never told your best friend how we met?” Yuna gasps, hand against her chest dramatically, “I don’t know if I should be offended or not.”

“What! I did,” Jin pouts, glaring at her playfully.

“Oh, did you? Actually, I would be more offended if I was your best friend and didn’t know all of the details,” Yuna complains.

“Oh, I like her,” You grin, pointing to Yuna, “Bottom line, it’s Jin’s fault. So tell me then-”

“Well,” Yuna says, turning back to you, “As funny as it is, I met him at a coffee shop…”

And she tells you about how Jin started frequenting the same coffee shop for weeks in hopes that he’d catch a glimpse of her after the first time. Your heart aches only a little over the fact that you had no idea. It’s okay though- it’s not about you. She tells you that he had somehow figured out her coffee order and was waiting with her order when he asked for her number.

Yuna whispers that she was a sucker for him right off the bat, and you both share a laugh over that. Even though it’s only been a few weeks, a little over a month, you can see how much she likes him. And how much he likes her.

She also looks at you in the same way Jin does sometimes- like she can see right through you with knowing, curious eyes.

It doesn’t unnerve you as much as you thought it would.

You’re on a mission, with two bags of fried chicken in the passenger seat of your car. Today, you’re planning on paying a visit to Jimin and Hoseok in their dance studio. They’ve been here for years, and you haven’t seen them. Not even once.

First date jitters settle in your belly again. You’re only making good on your promise to them in Tokyo- that you wouldn’t be so much of a stranger again.

Fried chicken and bubble tea would be the way back into their hearts. Hopefully.

With a deep breath, you park your car into the lot, away from the rest of the cars. And you take your time pulling the food and trays of bubble tea out of your passenger seat before arriving at the front door of the studio. One of the students who is about to leave sees you struggling at the door, and lets you in without a second thought. 

“Thank you,” You murmur and he nods at you before exiting the building.

You spot Jimin with his back turned away from you, talking to Hoseok. It must be something important, from how serious the expression on Hoseok’s face is. But Hoseok pulls away from Jimin when he sees you in the mirror that lines the wall.

He looks surprised, but gives you a bright smile. 

“Uh,” You say, with a weak smile, “Hi. I brought food.”

“Is that fried chicken?” Jimin says, peeking at the bags. You nod and Jimin smiles, taking the bags from you and setting them on the floor.

“And you got our favorite bubble tea flavors,” Hoseok says in approval. You help him set the food and teas in front of you and stretch your legs.

“You should’ve texted! We could’ve gone to dinner or something,” Jimin says, plating the fried chicken for everyone.

“Ah, I wanted to…” You trail off, “Wanted to see the studio. And surprise you both. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“It has,” Hoseok murmurs, scratching his chin. His eyes are warm and sunny, just as you remembered all those years ago. It’s interesting, how it’s been so many years since you’ve held a conversation with either of them. And yet, it feels like no time has passed at all. 

You suppose that’s what adulthood is. And maybe you missed some of it while you were in your very own black hole.

“Tell me,” You demand softly, “Tell me everything. And where is Yoongi? Jin mentioned he has a recording studio?”

So they do- they tell you everything, from how they got the seed money for the school, how they train backup dancers and main dancers, and have just expanded their team so that they can train younger kids, too. 

“Took a while to get here,” Hoseok shrugs, “But we’re here.”

“Yeah. We are,” You say wistfully, “I’m happy for you guys. I remember...how this was your dream. In school. So… I’m happy to see it come true.”

“Ah, don’t go getting all sappy on us now,” Jimin teases and you roll your eyes.

“Hey, finish your bubble tea. Let’s dance it out,” Hoseok says. Your lips part in surprise, about to protest. But they’re both persuasive and you’re not immune to their charms.

So you dance with them, the music bouncing off of the walls, the mirrors and reverberating in your blood and making your heart pound. You dance with them, you laugh, and you even cry a little.

Nerves seize you as you walk towards the karaoke bar from your Uber with Jin and Yuna. You had driven to Jin’s apartment and left your car there, to Uber (and pregame) with them. He refused to let you take an Uber by yourself all the way from home into the city. It’s been years and you’ve given up fighting him on it.

Yuna has an arm slinked around your shoulders as she leads you inside, seemingly sensing your nerves.

So many people, mostly faces you don’t recognize are at the karaoke bar. Yuna pulls you away, to introduce you to her girlfriends.

Yuri, Sooyoung, Seohyun. They talk to you as if you’ve been a part of their circle since the beginning. It makes you yearn for it- for girl friendship.

Yuri suggests a round of drinks and shots for everyone, and you go with her to the bar to get the bartender’s attention.

You catch Jungkook’s eye and you tell Yuri you’ll meet her at the bar.

“Hi, Jungkook,” You breathe, a little nervously. You smile brightly at him, opening your arms for a hug without a second thought. He also looks delicious, a fact that you had been all too aware of. He’s wearing a baggy white shirt and a bomber jacket, paired with tight, black jeans and combat boots. Two silver hoops sit pretty in each ear, and a metallic feather dangles from his right ear. He has his hair pinned back, exposing part of his undercut to you on his left side. On his right side, his hair falls over his eyes in an effortless waterfall.

You want to push his hair back. You resist the urge and clasp your clutch tightly.

He smells spicy and warm. Like always. You could drown in his arms, you think. You don’t want to let go of him, you quite enjoy the feel of his strong arms easily wrapped around you.

But he lets you go and you let him go.

“Hi,” He says, his eyes crinkling, “How’s it goin’?”

“Good,” You murmur, “You sober?”

“Nah, had a few drinks with Tae at home,” Jungkook says, pointing to Taehyung. Who’s currently chatting Yuri up at the bar.

“He’s trouble,” You laugh lightly.

“You don’t have to tell me twice. I live with the guy.”

Jungkook had seen you walk in with Seokjin and Yuna earlier. You were deep in conversation with Yuna, throwing your head back in laughter. He’s glad- he’s glad that you’re finding friends outside of Jin. He knows it’s hard for you to open up. But he’s proud of you for trying.

He knows this because you’ve told him. Late at night, via text. During vulnerable hours, as he’s dubbed them. He’s flattered that you feel comfortable enough to share such things with him. He’s only known you again for a few months, but the way you had been in the beginning is a stark contrast from how you are now.

You’d been mean in the beginning, a little rough around the edges. But now, you’re a little softer. He likes you like this. Jungkook doesn’t like when you’re deliberately mean. 

Even if you haven’t truly apologized for how you’d treated him in the beginning, he thinks it's mostly forgivable.

You look so pretty- is the first thought that runs through his head. As it generally always is. You’re wearing a black velvet off the shoulder top that proudly shows your tattoos off on display and a thin gold necklace at the base of your throat. A watch sits pretty on your wrist, your pants are tight around your thighs...

He could stare at you for hours. Jungkook loves the way your face relaxes when you laugh, loudly and genuinely.

Jungkook’s throat goes dry, the same way it did at the holiday party. He can’t keep his eyes off of you- your bare shoulders, the dip of your chest, the swell of your ass… 

If he doesn’t watch himself, he might have to rub one out in one of the dirty bathroom stalls. And this time, he probably won’t be so lucky to be alone in the bathroom the way he was at the party.

He just can’t believe how pretty you are, and how he gets to see you like this as often as he does.

Taehyung snaps his fingers in front of Jungkook, waving his hand in front of his face. “Hellooooo,” Taehyung says, “Anyone home?”

“Shut up,” Jungkook grins, shoving his hand to the side.

“The hell are you staring at?” Taehyung mutters, following Jungkook’s line of sight and sees you, “Oh. No wonder. Your girl’s here.”

“She’s not my girl,” Jungkook protests.

“Yeah, don’t I know it,” Taehyung scoffs, “You gonna make a move? Or should I?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes, shoving Taehyung’s shoulder. Seokjin approaches both of them, throwing an arm around them and Jungkook forces his eyes away from you. Jungkook smells alcohol on Jin’s breath- he’s screeching about how he wants them to meet Yuna-

“Jin, she’s right there,” Jungkook says with wide eyes, “You can just-”

Over the last few months, being under Namjoon and Seokjin’s tutelage feels like he’s gained two older brothers. While Jungkook was initially wary about developing such close relationships with colleagues, let alone superiors, the pull of friendship was too tight for him to really resist.

Jin smacks Jungkook’s shoulder roughly, “You think I don’t know that! That my girlfriend is right there! She’s with your girl-”

Jin’s smile twists into a smirk and Jungkook’s jaw drops. 

“Close your mouth, Kook. Lookin’ like a damn fish outta water,” Jin says smugly, “I know everything. Don’t you forget it, kid.”

Jungkook just pouts at him, “I’m not a kid.”

“You kissin’ anyone at midnight?” Taehyung asks smoothly, with his legs spread and his arm over the back of the seat to face you.

You scoff, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He’s easy and fun to talk to. You don’t notice Jungkook’s smile dissolving into a pout.

Taehyung looks at Jungkook knowingly, with a smirk and innocent, dark eyes. Dangerous. “Wanna be my midnight kiss?”

He’s bold. You don’t think you’ve ever met someone as bold as Taehyung. But you understand why him and Jungkook click.

“You fuckin’ wish, Taehyung,” You swat his shoulder playfully, taking a long sip of your drink.

Jungkook crosses his arms across his chest petulantly. Taehyung knows about his not so secret crush on you. He’s doing this to annoy him, but also to tell him to get a move on with you.

But he likes slow, and he wants slow with you. If you’d ever give it to him. 

“Can’t blame a guy for trying,” Taehyung says loudly, looking over your head to Jungkook subtly.

“Oh, I can definitely blame you for trying,” You roll your eyes, “C’mon. Let me get us some drinks-”

“I don’t-”

“I know you don’t like alcohol. I saw they have this fancy peach and mango drink, thought you’d like it,” You shrug and Taehyung’s face splits into a broad smile. 

“How thoughtful of you,” Taehyung beams, ruffling your hair fondly, “C’mon, Jungkook. Our girl is buying.”

You and Jungkook both roll your eyes this time, and you let your gaze land on him. “Your friend is a nuisance,” You mumble to Jungkook loudly, grinning when Taehyung pouts at you.

“Hey! I can hear you!”

“Good, that was the point.”

You were happy to be in settings like this without needing Seokjin to be a buffer for you. You think it’s progress- you can’t remember a single moment in the last five years that you didn’t need your best friend by your side to get you through events like this.

And now, you’re alone with Taehyung and Jungkook. All on your own. You think he might be proud of you. You think Appa might be proud of you, too.

“What can I get you, JK?” You ask, leaning close to him at the bar to hear what he says. 

“Soju,” He says instantly, his breath close to your ear. A shiver trails up your spine at his low voice.

“Me too,” You murmur, “We’re the only ones with any taste in this entire establishment.”

His eyes crinkle when he laughs. You love the sound. Neither of you realize that Taehyung has long disappeared. 

You lean against the bar, pushing most of your weight onto your elbows as you both wait for your drinks. Jungkook is so close to you that you can feel the warmth radiating through his white shirt and his leather jacket. You had already teased him for his white shirt before-

“You must have a lot of faith in yourself and in our friends if you think that white shirt will stay white all night.”

“I’ve got my good luck charm with me,” Jungkook winks at you.

Who does he think he is? You know he’s not talking about a physical charm, from the way he’s looking at you with stars in his eyes.

“Any resolutions this year, JK?” You prompt him, wringing your hands together.

“Nah, not really,” Jungkook shrugs, “Maybe just go see my parents and my brother more often. I wanna get back into photography, too.”

“Photography,” You hum, “That’s so very you.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” You nod with a small smile, “You seem like… You know how to capture a moment, even if it’s something mundane. You could make anything special, Jungkook.”

Jungkook’s cheeks flush at your soft praise. He wants to make you feel special. “T-Thanks,” He mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck shyly, “Do you have any resolutions for the new year?”

“I don’t know,” You shrug, “I think this year… I want to let myself be happier. Not much of a resolution but…” You trail off, suddenly alarmed.

“Sorry,” You mumble, “Didn’t mean to kill the mood.”

“What?” Jungkook says with wide eyes, “You didn’t. Trust me.

“And for what it’s worth… You deserve to be happy. H-happy looks good on you.”

A pet name almost slips out of his lips. Almost. The beaming, bashful smile you give him makes his heart race and his insides warm. 

“Is that the only thing that looks good on me?” You bat your lashes at him, lips formed into a pretty pout and Jungkook feels his knees weakening. He swallows nervously. Do you even know what you do to him?

Before he can muster a stuttering reply, the bartender appears with your bottles of soju. You turn a little too quickly on your heel, your heel slipping out from under you.

Of course you’re going to trip and bust your ass in front of everyone. And most importantly, in front of Jungkook. You squeeze your eyes for the inevitable thump of your ass hitting the wet floor, but it never comes.

Instead, you feel a warm, strong arm wrapped tightly around your waist. You feel your back against a solid chest. Your throat instantly goes dry and you force yourself to turn in his arms to look at him.

“You’re clumsy,” Jungkook says quietly, only for your ears. His eyes are teasing, his voice low from the rumble in his chest.

“N-no,” This time you’re the one who’s flustered, “Floor’s wet…”

Neither of you move away from each other. Your hand is still tight around his bicep, his hand firm against your waist. How is it that he always makes you feel like you’re the only girl in the world?

He could kiss you. You could kiss him. He could kiss you. You could kiss him. 

Instead, you stay in his arms for a little longer. Both of you sipping on your soju and sharing sweet smiles and starry eyes.

At least until Seokjin whisks you away, yelling at you for not even having one drink with him yet.

There are about thirty seconds left until the New Year. You can’t help it- you want to see Jungkook. He makes your heart flutter and pound at the same time- with his smile that you like to pretend burns a little brighter when it’s directed at you.

You find him, towards the back of the bar. He’s in conversation with Taehyung and Jimin but when Taehyung notices you noticing Jungkook, he grins to himself. And leaves the conversation, dragging Jimin with him.

You don’t notice that. You only see Jungkook.

The confusion in Jungkook’s doe eyes is cute, but it washes away when he sees you. His heart picks up again, throat going dry.

The countdown has begun already. Fifteen seconds left.

“Jungkook,” You say a little breathlessly. Jungkook can see the slick of tipsiness in your eyes when you flick your gaze from his lips to his eyes. You lean into him, chest to chest. Your voice catches in your throat when you realize your proximity.

You can see the mole beneath his pouty lower lip. Neither of you moves.

“Yeah?” He murmurs.

You could kiss him. He could kiss you. You could kiss him. He could kiss you. 

Five!

“I just-”

Four!

“I’m happy you’re in my life again-”

Three!

Jungkook says your name. “Me too. Really happy-”

Two!

His eyes are wide, unsure but sparkling. Adoring, even. And he’s looking at you like that.

One!

A chorus of cheers erupt behind you and you muster all of your courage. To press your lips against his cheek gently. Jungkook’s heart stutters, singing at the lingering touch of your lips against his skin. It’s not much, but it’s enough for his cheeks to turn pink and for yours to heat up.

It’s just you and him in this crowded, noisy bar. Everything else fades away when you stand with him.

A soft gasp leaves his lips, blowing on your face. He gives you a bashful smile, and you’re surprised at your own actions.

Your name sounds so good on his tongue. Like honey.

“Happy new year,” Jungkook says softly. He dares to press his forehead to yours and you exhale shakily at the action. You feel warm all over, as if bubbly champagne has been poured into your veins. You feel his hand at your waist.

“Happy new year, JK,” You say easily with a disarming grin. 

Jungkook wants to kiss you, kiss the gloss right off of your pretty lips. But not yet, not here. Not when he hasn’t taken you on a date, when he hasn’t even held your hand yet.

Not yet. Not here.

The way he looks at you, as if you’ve somehow captured stardust in your smile, it excites you and scares you at the same time. You don’t think anyone has ever looked at you this intensely, as if they can see right through you.

It sets your nerves on fire. You sway on the spot, leaning into the warmth of his forehead on yours.

“Happy new year,” Jungkook says again, dimples on display. He wonders if you can feel the tremble of his hand against your waist. Or if you can feel the way his heart is about to explode out of his chest.

You think you could spend hours glancing into his deep, sparkling eyes. A flash of his cold eyes from months ago intrudes your memories, but it’s gone as soon as it comes. 

His brown eyes are so warm and toasty- ringing in the new year with his soft gaze on you like this feels right.

tags: @koo-zy​