#and ROWING being in the theme??? that has nothing to do with the fourth. ITS THE OLYMPICS IM TELLIN YA | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aenaxes · 3 years ago

Note

OMG ok for the 200 follower celebration (based on your smoking post) PLZZZ write sharing a spice blunt with cross or any batcher of your choosing I would simply die 😩💅🏻❤️

vapor trails

[crosshair & hunter x f!reader] you don't really run with the fett twins' crowd, but you find yourself at one of their parties anyway (in reference to this post lol)

warnings: college!au, recreational drug use, suggestive themes, but consent is sexy & mandatory & sober babes

w/c: 3.8k

a/n: anon, you ask for one batcher, but why not two? thank you for enabling me nonnie & @mallr4ts lol (im so sorry to all the previous requests for the event, this one has just been needling in my brain all day and i had to get it out hsdfs)

event details here! requests are open until july 4th!

You don’t know much about the Fett twins.

They’re something like campus legends even though they’re only a year your senior and at the tail end of their fourth years. But as much as you’ve heard their names slung around in weekend plans and excited chatter, you’ve never once met them, much less seen them yourself. Between idling class whispers and dining hall conversations, all you can piece together from the rumors is that: one, they’re from a big family (you’ve heard anywhere from two to twelve other brothers, yikes); and two, as much as they work hard (because the venture capital and pre-professorial tracks seem rigorous enough), they play even harder.

It helps that they apparently own one of the biggest apartments off campus, one in which you find yourself hopelessly and miserably lost. And overdressed.

Great.

It hadn’t occurred to you that your roommate, who is nowhere to be seen, had been dressing up for her girlfriend, and that most people who had half a mind would wear something comfortable that could withstand a few spilled drinks and ash. So seeing the rest of the room in rumpled tees and sweats has you and your little black dress seeking out the nearest wall as you fiddle with your questionably sweet cup of margarita mixer.

You feel like a first year, and it sucks.

But for once, with everyone too busy mingling amongst themselves over the heavy thrum of some mumble rap beat, you manage to slip by unnoticed.

Every now and then, you dart your eyes around the ever shifting landscape of faces in the dim room, looking for even the vaguest familiarity that might let you feign being tipsy and join a group for the night. But every time you try, there’s no luck.

Fuck, you haven’t even seen anyone here before.

But there might be a god watching out for you yet when the crowd shifts just enough that you catch sight of the couch, and on it, someone you suspect to be one of the twins as he greets a few girls with a disinterested nod.

Emboldened, but mostly nervous that in the crowd of bodies and red solo cups you’re still helplessly alone, you push off the wall and squeeze past huddled cliques of conversation to make for the dark couch.

By the platinum bleached hair and big-name consulting group quarter zip, Crosshair—at least you think it’s him—lounges over the couch. He isn’t the only body on the suede seats, but he keeps to himself, his head dipped low as he works one hand over a small metal canister in his other palm.

If you weren’t having luck with the other nameless faces around you, maybe the Fett twin would keep you company—at least until your roommate came back to find you (if she did). And worst case, you’d just slink back to your dorm and mope until your roommate apologized to you with your favorite overpriced smoothie bowl the day after.

Mustering every ounce of courage you have, you plant your feet by the couch and finally speak.

"Is your name actually Crosshair?" you ask.

The man on the couch pauses, his motions stilling over the small metal cylinder in his palms, and he lifts his chin just enough to flick his eyes up towards the sound of your voice.

You always thought the girls in your droning 9AM gen-ed were wildly exaggerating his hype for their own devices, squealing over his (apparently) brooding charm and sharp looks to nip at his stash for free. But for all the vague haze surrounding your perception of the twins, you never thought that they were telling the truth.

If you had been in broad daylight under the incandescent glow of your creaky lecture hall lights, you might have called him cocky, almost haughty, how he meets you with an unreadable look for having interrupted him. But in the purple LEDs and heavy haze of vape juice and shitty tequila, he’s captivating, all dark eyes and perfectly lit skin, marked only by the needle-thin design tattooed over the right side of his face and a worn wooden toothpick bitten between his teeth.

You swallow down the dry lump in your throat when you catch him flick his eyes from your face, down the short length of your dress, and back up again.

"Smoke with me; maybe you'll find out," he drawls, toothpick bobbing as he speaks. He twists the cylinder once and offers you a wry smirk. And when you stay, speechless but there all the same, Crosshair scoots to the side and pats the narrow space between him and the couch arm, inviting you close.

"I've never smoked before," you admit a bit shyly as you drop down beside him. Your dress hikes up your thigh, and you shiver when your skin presses up against the soft denim of his jeans.

"Not even cigs?"

You shake your head. And you tell yourself that when he leans close and brushes his shoulder up against your arm, that he’s only doing it because someone’s boosted the bass, and you can’t hear him over the reverb.

"Well, good thing I'm here, yeah?"

He gives the metal canister a final twist and sets it down on the coffee table before you. Swapping the canister for a small brown sleeve, you watch in a daze as he pulls a semi-transparent leaflet from the folder and tears a strip of cardstock straight from its flap. He has pianist fingers, you think wistfully, neatly kept nails and slender grace, and you wonder if he’ll entertain you if you ask to compare your hand to his.

“What’s your name?”

You scrabble back to the present at the sound of his voice. “Uh, y/n,” you offer.

“Well, y/n,” he says with a soft laugh, having caught on to your daydreaming. “Step one, you fold your filter.”

You nod along absently as Crosshair artfully crimps the thick paper into a neat roll. As if there isn’t thirty-some odd people crammed into his apartment, he quietly takes you step by step, offering you the filter, the paper, then the contents of the canister (a grinder, he explains) like it’s a game of show and tell. But with every piece he places into your hands, you gravitate closer, closer, until you’re flush against his arm and practically hanging over his side to watch as he gently taps a line of bud over the paper.

“Here, let me give you a better look,” Crosshair says.

You expect him to bring the neat line of bud to you, but when nothing comes, you look up and find him waiting for you, one arm open in invitation as the other pats once on the dark denim of his thigh.

“Uh—”

“Sit,” he says as if you haven’t just met him fifteen minutes ago. “Front row seats if you want ‘em.”

On one hand, you barely know Crosshair outside of the rumors you hear on campus. On the other hand, he’s a genuinely pleasant person, careful to accommodate for your boundaries and offering a snide playfulness that’s banished your nerves from earlier in the night.

He’s also really fucking hot.

“Okay,” you murmur, and you let him wrap his arm around your waist and tug you onto his lap. And he’s right. Perched over his thighs, you see with perfect clarity (and without the strain in your neck) as he gently folds the paper over the mound of bud and carefully twists. It’s the prettiest joint you’ve ever seen—though it might be because it’s the only one you’ve seen.

"Final touch," Crosshair's voice rumbles over your back, shooting straight into your core as he lifts the paper's vellum edge to your lips. “Lick it for me.”

Since you sat down with him, you’ve only been the passenger, nodding along as Crosshair’s long, nimble fingers creased over filter paper and patiently pointed out things like the stray pistils in his baggie and the keef gathered at the bottom of his grinder for if you really want to get fucked up. And even though you aren’t doing much (because licking paper doesn’t really seem too crazy), it’s a step forward from the comfortable rhythm that had settled between you, and you twist around in his lap to shoot him an uncertain glance.

“Just,” Crosshair flicks his tongue over his lower lip, flashing a brief glimpse of a ball piercing towards your wide eyes. And if you weren’t so flustered, you might have recognized the coy playfulness in his gaze. “Give it a lick, right over the edge.”

“I—uh, what if I—” you stammer.

“You’re not gonna mess this up, darling,” Crosshair chuckles. If his hand squeezing brief over your waist wasn’t enough to bring heat searing over the tops of your ears, his next words, crooned low and breathy into your ear, certainly do. “You’re a smart girl. You can do it.”

"My brother giving you trouble?"

Another voice cuts through the din of the party, sparing you your stammering nerves as you whip your head up in its general direction. You’re greeted with the sight of his brother, peering down on you as he takes a sip from his cup.

“You’re such a killjoy,” Crosshair mutters, drawing his arm tighter around your waist as he jabs the half-rolled joint to where Hunter sprawls down onto the couch beside him. “No, I’m not being a creep. I’m teaching our pretty underclassman here how to roll.”

Oh.

Heat rushes over your cheeks, and you can’t decide whether you want to shrink into yourself or bask in it and beg for more.

He called you pretty.

“With her in your lap,” Hunter snorts into his cup.

“It was your idea to invite your entire fucking rugby team. Where else would we do it?”

“I’m so sorry he’s like this,” Hunter laughs, tilting his head and looking up at you through his (unfairly) long lashes. Where you thought Crosshair’s tattoo was bold, Hunter’s practically blows him out of the water, a well-worn swath of ink on the left half of his face, curving into neatly stylized teeth right at the edge of his lips. “I’m Hunter.”

Huh, maybe you do have a thing for tattoos.

“Y/n,” you squeak. “It’s, um—it’s nice to meet you.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart,” he says as he offers you an easy smile. “Has my baby brother been treating you right?”

“God, two fucking minutes,” Crosshair snaps. You hear the embarrassment seeping from the vitriol, and it strikes you like a shot to the head that he’s trying to play cool in front of you. “I come out two minutes after you and—”

“We’re fraternal, and I got all the oxygen in the womb. Explains why he has awful people skills,” Hunter fake-whispers loud enough for Crosshair to hear, and you giggle as the other man groans from behind you.

“No, he’s been really nice,” you say softly once you realize that you’ve been laughing a little too loud. “He’s teaching me about weed.” It sounds juvenile when you say it, awkward and clumsy on your tongue. It’s a dead giveaway that has Hunter’s smile mellowing into something soft.

“Your first time?”

“Mhm.”

“Well, Cross here’s high as shit at least four hours every day. Says it helps him do the math. I hate to say it, but you’re in good hands.”

“You try running a nonlinear regression sober,” Crosshair snorts. “Anyways, we were just finishing up this joint before you decided to kill the vibe.”

Crosshair lifts the half-rolled joint back up to your chin, and this time, he leans forward and presses his chest close against your back as the playful snark leaves his tone, in its wake, something patient and calm as his voice rumbles by your ear.

“You gonna help me finish the job, sweet girl?”

You surprise yourself when the initial trepidation vanishes as you tip your chin down and stick out your tongue. Maybe you’re showboating now that you have an audience, feeling Hunter’s dark eyes on your lips when you touch the tip of your tongue out over the edge.

Whether it’s your lip gloss or the fine crumbs of bud stuck to the roll paper that fills your mouth with something earthy and sweet, you can’t say. All you know is they’re both following you with that intense intent, the bass and blend of voices faded out around you; just you in Crosshair’s lap and Hunter pretending to care about the drink in his hand as you lift your tongue off the far corner of the paper and close your lips.

“Good job,” Hunter muses, and you’re pretty certain he’s not talking about the joint when you feel his gaze boring into you alone.

The smell of smoke pulls you out of Hunter’s gravity, and you look back in front of you to see Crosshair snap a scuffed metal lighter shut and toss it onto the coffee table. He brings the joint back down in front of you, blowing a neat stream of whitish gray smoke past your ear.

“You know how to pull?” Crosshair asks, and his chin brushes over your bare shoulder as he speaks. He’s so close. You can smell the burn, acrid and sour, but it doesn’t matter that it doesn’t smell like some bubblegum vape when you feel his breaths curling over your skin. You just want more.

Mutely, you shake your head.

“Mm, you know how to shotgun?” Hunter offers, and you hear Crosshair huff laugher from behind you. “Might be easier for your first try.”

You shake your head again.

“It’s,” Hunter pauses, and his brows knit close as he thinks for a moment. “It’s kind of like a kiss. But not really. I take a hit and you catch my smoke. That sound okay?”

You don’t think it matters that someone’s hit shuffle on the playlist, filling the room with a hard electronic beat that might have otherwise drowned out all sound. All you hear is your heart pounding in your ears as you nod and watch Hunter lift the filter to his lips and inhale deep, then pass the joint back to Crosshair.

“C’mere,” he murmurs, white trails of smoke curling over his upper lip as he lifts one hand to cup over the base of your neck.

“Open,” Crosshair whispers.

Wordlessly, you obey. Your lips part just as Hunter pulls close, so close you feel the heat of his skin spreading warm over your cheeks, and blows a soft stream of bitter smoke into your mouth. It can’t be more than a few seconds, but all the while, you can’t seem to tear your eyes from his.

“Breathe in, deep,” you hear Crosshair instruct as he begins to rub one thumb over the curve of your hip.

The smoke is thick, sluicing down your throat and filling your lungs like nothing you’ve ever felt before. It’s not bad, just new, and pressed between the twins over the couch, you think it just might have been worth being ditched by your roommate earlier in the night. But your lungs ache, and you slowly exhale, watching as your vision fogs with a loose cloud of smoke until your chest feels clear again.

“And you didn’t even cough,” Hunter smiles. His calloused fingertips follow the slope of your neck, lingering one moment more before he pulls away. And you aren’t sure if the low buzzing in your fingertips is the weed or their combined warmth as Hunter rubs over your knee and Crosshair leans his head against your neck. “Good girl.”

“Wanna do it again,” you whisper as the buzz begins to crawl up your neck, fizzling around your temples as you lean your cheek over where Crosshair nuzzles into your shoulder.

“With him or me?” Crosshair murmurs, his lips brushing over your skin.

“You,” you say dreamily, and Hunter laughs, a sound that suddenly seems so far away as you tip your head and press close against Crosshair’s silver hair.

Crosshair leans into your touch, pressing his cheek up against your neck one last time before he’s lifting his head and bringing the joint to his lips. You hear the hiss of his inhale, smoke curling up through the narrow body of the joint as the charred end glows warm beside you.

And instead of Hunter’s approach, level with you, Crosshair looms above you, meeting your wide eyes with something of a fond smile. Dragging his hand up your chest, he follows the line of your neck and holds snug over your chin. He squeezes softly, and your jaw falls slack, lips parted in a soft ‘o’ as he dips low. He's closer than Hunter as you feel his mouth just brush over yours and breathe smoke over your tongue.

This time, it’s easier.

You swallow down the smoke and hold, just a beat longer than before. But both Crosshair and Hunter notice as your lips stay parted, and they share a soft laugh that has you exhaling smoke and pride all at once when you finally relax your diaphragm and breathe out.

“Fast learner,” Crosshair muses, nosing up under your jaw as you sink back against his chest.

You mumble incoherently, chasing his touch as the high creeps heavy and warm from your chest to your collar and settles at the back of your throat. It anchors you, molding you up against Crosshair who feels nothing short of perfect as he circles his arms loose over your waist.

You turn your head to thank Hunter when you distantly register him pressing a cool cup into your hand (water, you think you hear him say), but the words slip back down into your throat, your eyelids suddenly unbearably heavy and coarse over your blurry vision.

“You wanna lay down?” Hunter offers, and his voice comes to you like you’re underwater, warped and bubbling past the din of the party around you.

You're pretty sure you nod.

For a few moments, you catch traces of an unintelligible exchange between the twins, only aware of the rumble of Crosshair’s voice at your back, and then you’re being lifted up off the couch, the music and raucous laughter fading behind you.

A door opens, squeaking half-shut, and you wince as a light clicks on beside you. Whoever was carrying you sets you down on something soft and cool, and you sway as the light dims and you settle into your seat.

You’re on a bed, you think.

Crosshair’s, judging by the shock of light hair that you can make out through your lashes. He helps you into a worn tee that reaches past the short hem of your dress, and you wiggle into it with a soft whine, holding it tight.

But where you expect a familiar weight to dip down next to you and pull you close, your eyes fly open when you see his figure turn away from you and towards the neon lights of the party outside.

“You aren’t staying?” It's the most coherent you've been through your first high.

“Not tonight,” Crosshair says softly. He turns back towards you and reaches up to fix the strap of your dress as you sit on his bed. “Baby’s first tokes got you all dopey. Right now, what you need is this,” and he presses a plastic bottle of vitamin water he’s seemingly produced out of nowhere into your palm. “This,” he adds, pressing your phone into your other hand. “And a good night’s sleep.”

“And what if I say I need you, too?” you pout.

Some part of you—the conscious part locked away in the back of your skull—bangs up against the hazy high at the crown of your head because when you’re good and sober and when Crosshair inevitably turns you down, you won’t be able to look at yourself in the mirror for the next semester.

But he breaks into a smile that crinkles at the corners of his eyes before he leans down to press his lips to your forehead. It’s just a split-second of warm, chapstick-soft lips on your skin, but it floods you with an indescribable good from the top of your head all the way down to your toes.

And as high as you are right now, you have a hell of a hunch that the flutter in your chest is going to stay, even when the room stops wobbling around you.

“When you’re all sobered up in the morning, we’ll make you breakfast, and we’ll figure it out from there,” Crosshair says after he’s pulled back, reaching up to smooth his palm over your hair. “Sound like a plan?”

You nod, probably with a little too much enthusiasm, but you’re rewarded with another low chuckle that’s practically music to your ears. His hand gentle and firm over your shoulder, Crosshair guides you down onto the bed and pulls the covers up to your chin.

“Now text your roomie so she doesn’t call the cops on us, get some sleep, and drink all of that, okay?”

“Okay,” you respond.

“Good girl.”

And when the lights click out, you curl into Crosshair’s pillow, breathing in cold, fresh notes of his cologne, and then you’re asleep.

You climb out of bed the next morning, your minidress rumpled under a long shirt. It's not like a hangover, no, you just find yourself a bit lightheaded and throat parched, and the disorientation makes your head spin as you’re greeted with the smell of fresh coffee and something savory—

Your roommate doesn’t wake up earlier than you, and she can’t cook for shit. And why were your sheets grey? Whose shirt were you—

Oh.

Fuck.

You practically burst out of Crosshair’s bedroom, and you’re not sure what you expected, but somehow you hadn’t expected to see Hunter sipping mildly on a mug of coffee while Crosshair pushes something around in a pan over their kitchen range.

“Mornin,’” Hunter offers you a small wave, and reaches for a third mug on the countertop. “Wasn’t sure how you liked your coffee so we just made it black.”

“What happened last night?” you gasp. If you weren’t so panicked, you’re certain the sight of them sporting nothing but grey sweats would have been your only concern, but you’ve just woken up with foggy memories and the slimy dread of anxiety that follows a blackout night.

“Easy, easy,” Crosshair assures you as he steps away from the stovetop. “Nothing happened after we smoked. You took, like, two hits, and you were so hazy you couldn’t remember your dorm number, so we put you to bed, and I slept out in the living room. Fetts are wild but we’re not scumbags, promise.”

And judging from the throw blanket sliding off the edge of the couch cushions, you’re fairly certain you can believe him. Relief floods your chest.

“Oh thank God,” you sigh, and your shoulders sag as the weight of panic sloughs off your back.

They both laugh softly, the sudden tension lifting from the bright morning light, and you can’t help but join in. And when that rosy relief gives way to silence again, it’s Crosshair who speaks next.

“So, you staying for breakfast?”

“Can I borrow some actual clothes first?”

“Done deal.”

#fun fact: my signature party trick is flirting with a guy and then stealing his blunt ✌️😗#thinking about how schlorbe n i agreed crosshair listens to souncloud mumble rap :/#its ok i kiss him anyways #hc that crosshair’s an econ/finance bro and hunter’s a history major hehe #sequel series: crosshair goes venture capital (gross)#tech's probably at like the space equivalent of mit or something #and i will Die on the hill that wrecker's super smart with kinesiology #crosshair x reader #hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x reader #the bad batch x reader #anon #yaej.writes

190 notes · View notes

streetlight11 · 4 years ago

Text

Something About You

Summary: He has been going on dates, meeting new people online, wanting to find the girl of his dreams. But so far, all of them whom he met either have nothing in common with him or has a lot of common interest except cats. He has 3 cats so he could never imagine dating someone who would never get along with his cats. Turns out, the girl he has been dreaming about happens to be a lot closer than he think.

Theme: University au, partial strangers to friends to lovers

Genre: Fluffy fluff

WC: 4.2k

Pairing: Lee Minho x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello! I’m back with a new fic. Hope you enjoy!

“So, how was your date?” Chan asked his roommate who had just entered their shared apartment looking just as tired and done as his pet cats. The boy simply frowned, kicking off his shoes and went straight to their living room only to crash on the couch next to where the older boy was seated with his laptop in his lap, probably just composing new tracks.

“Horrible. Probably won’t be getting back to her anytime soon.” Minho shrugged before taking out his phone only to scroll through YouTube of cat videos.

Just then, a soft meow came from below his feet only for Soonie to hop into Minho’s lap and purred when he stroked its head to its tail in a loving motion. Chan let out a soft chuckle. He had a hunch on why this date didn’t work out just like the rest of Minho’s date.

“Was she another one of those girls who are scared of cats?” Chan asked but Minho’s face turned into a scowl.

“Worse. Can you believe she actually kicked the poor kitty away when all it wanted was a pet from her? God, how can some people be so awful?!” Minho grunted in annoyance, making Chan gasp in shock.

He has heard about all Minho’s past dates being scared of cats and sometimes even running away from them but never did he think someone would actually harm the poor animal.

“Geez, yeah, she is definitely out of your list then.”

“Tell me about it.” Minho rolled his eyes as he got up to take a warm shower after a terrible first date.

The next morning, Y/N got woken up by her blaring alarm that has been going off for the past 5 minutes. Her morning lecture was in an hour but her roommate and also her close friend, Sana had already left since she had classes slightly earlier. She forced herself out of bed, only to shower and change into a comfortable outfit that was campus appropriate.

She managed to stop by the café right outside her apartment to get her morning dose of caffeine before walking to campus that was conveniently 20 minutes away from where they lived.

Y/N arrived on campus 5 minutes before her first class, making her way straight to class on the opposite side of the back entrance. Y/N was a CS major while Sana was a Psych major, hence the different schedules. She wasn’t really an outgoing type of girl, but she’s not exactly an introvert either.

Y/N has never been the one to start a random conversation with someone first. But, once she feels comfortable with a person, she can joke and chat for hours and never get tired of it.

She was a shy yet friendly girl at the same time and that’s what makes Sana befriend her so easily.

Above else, Y/N was a very sporty girl and she loved playing netball. Hence, the reason why she was the Team Captain of Konkuk U girl’s netball team. Sana wasn’t in the sport but she always came down to support her best friend if they had any tournaments for that season. Hours passed and Y/N had just finished her classes, only to receive a text from Sana, telling her to meet at the cafeteria.

Y/N entered the cafeteria hall with her laptop in one hand and her phone in the other, just scrolling through her twitter when she came to a stop at the entrance to try and find her friend.

When she spotted her blonde haired roommate standing by a table where there were at least 8 guys seated at, she knew it was Sana’s best guy friend.

Y/N walked as her eyes were trained to her phone screen but her feet brought her exactly to where Sana was. She didn’t realise where she was walking until she heard Sana’s adorable voice calling out her name.

“Y/N!”

The said girl froze in her spot, seeing that she was just 2 feet away from her and the guys.

Y/N simply smiled, proceeding to join Sana by the side of the table, only for her eyes to naturally travel to the people seated at the table. If she could admit, she was currently staring at two rows of handsome looking guys.

“Babe! This is my best friend I told you about! This is Chan. Chan, this is my roommate and best friend, Y/N!” Sana introduced them to each other, only for Chan to smile. He stuck his hand out, making Y/N shake it gently.

“Hello. It’s nice to finally meet you!” Chan said as a smile appeared on his face.

“Hey, nice to meet you too.” Y/N mimicked his expression, something she normally did when she just met someone.

“Don’t mind her, she’s just shy!” Sana explained and some of the boys found themselves smiling at this remark. Just then, Y/N’s eyes seemed to find it’s own way towards Minho who was seated at the very end of the table. Of course she doesn’t know him, but he did attract her eye for being quite cute. Probably even cuter than the others.

“Okay guys, I’ll see you later. Y/N let’s go! I’m starving!” Sana giggled as she bid the boys goodbye before linking her arms with her roommate and soon dragged her down the cafeteria aisle.

“You didn’t tell us your best friend’s friend is cute too?!” Jisung said, causing Chan to shrug.

“Sorry guys, cause I didn’t know either.” Chan teased, making Jisung roll his eyes but a small chuckle left his lips right after.

A few weeks passed and as expected, Y/N often rejected Sana’s offer of joining her to hang out with the guys not because she didn’t like them. It was because she was shy and Sana of course understood this but she never pressed on it. Instead, she gave Y/N the chance to willingly join if she wanted to without any pressure.

However, it was a Thursday late afternoon and the girl’s netball team was having a tournament that day. As promised, Sana came down to support Y/N and her team. Except this time, she made sure to tag all the boys along and they came without a single doubt.

Y/N was just doing her warm up when she glanced over to the bleachers, that’s when she saw Sana and the rest of the guys on the fourth and fifth rows of the bleachers.

Y/N didn’t know why but she found herself instantly smiling when she saw that they came down to support her. Just then, Sana happened to look over and she locked eyes with Y/N, making her wave her hand up high as she let out a soft giggle.

She responded back with a small wave while some of the guys did the same.

Right at that moment, she locked eyes with Minho who was seated in the seat just below Sana. For some reason, she could feel her heartbeat speeding up in her chest.

Almost an hour later, it’s the final round and it was between Konkuk U and Sogang U. Y/N currently sat on the ground beside the bench where her team members were seated.

“Alright girls. I have a lot of faith in you guys but let’s switch some of you so that you guys get to participate in the games fair and square.” Y/N announced to her teammates who then nodded, waiting for her next command. After switching 3 of the players and Y/N was satisfied with this, the 7 players soon cheered before going to the court.

The game started and it already got pretty intense.

Sogang U was winning by a thread but Y/N tried to keep the game in their court. Right when Yeri was about to toss the ball towards Y/N who was sprinting forwards, a member from the Sogang team forcefully threw themselves against her form.

Y/N practically got thrown across the court when she crashed onto the ground with an awful loud thud before she slid to a stop.

At the fall, she managed to hit her head on the ground from the impact, causing her to go lightheaded for a brief moment. A series of gasps were heard from the crowd, watching her press her forehead against the ground as a hiss left her lips.

The girl who shoved her, only smirked before they continued the game.

“Oh no…” Sana whispered as they stared at Y/N’s limp body. Just then, Yeri ran to her team captain, only for her to gasp asking if she wanted to swap with anyone on the team. Y/N brushed her off when Yeri helped her up, only to hear that Sogang U scored another point.

She rubbed her temple slightly, wincing in pain but nonetheless told Yeri that she was okay. Just then, their coach shouted at Y/N to swap with Irene but Y/N gave him a shake of her head followed by an ‘okay’ sign and soon resumed the game. Her friends watched anxiously as Minho couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

“Why won’t you just rest?” He whispered under his breath when he saw her jog to get the ball.

A few moments later, the same opponent from Sogang U targeted Y/N again, pushing Y/N by her shoulders. Y/N almost lost her balance but she swiftly threw the ball over their heads, towards Lisa on the other side of the court.

The girl snarled at Y/N but she gave the girl a soft smirk before raising an eyebrow up to taunt her.

A few runs later, the girl purposely tripped Y/N, making her accidentally fall backwards with her ass hitting the ground hard. Y/N glared at the girl, only to hear a few seconds later that Konkuk U was taking the victory trophy.

The girls were just walking back to their side of the hall when somebody roughly turned her around and threw a snarky remark to her and her team.

“Better luck next time, when I actually get you on the bench. That way my team for sure can win that trophy.” The girl said before she gave Y/N’s cheek a few slaps. Y/N’s friends who saw this were furious as Chan and Felix practically had to hold Sana back. Y/N scoffed, watching the girls of Sogang U continue walking while Y/N’s teammates comforted her, telling her it’s okay.

Once everyone in the bleachers were leaving, Y/N was just wiping her neck from the sweat when Sana came running to her with her arms open. Sana gave her a few words of comfort, telling her not to be too affected by whatever that girl said. After the tournament was over and their coach had dismissed them, she took her duffle bag. They were walking towards the entrance of the hall when her vision suddenly went black and her head was pounding.

A soft groan left her lips when she nearly collapsed down to the left side but someone was quick to catch her and it was Minho. He wrapped an arm around her waist while the other hand reached for her forearm that was clutching onto her head.

“Woah. Are you okay?” His voice soft, laced with obvious worry.

Y/N nodded, letting Sana help Minho hold her as they each held her on either side. Outside the campus’ back entrance, Minho asked if Y/N was strong enough to walk back to her apartment with Sana alone and she said yes.

Sana told the boys she would update them if anything happened along the way. But the girls ended up going home safely, only for her to recover in just two days.

A week passed and it was a Saturday night, where Sana told Y/N she would be out with her boyfriend. Y/N decided to head to a nearby library to study since the campus was closed on weekends. It was already nearing 10pm, probably the reason why she kept yawning every 5 minutes.

“Maybe I should head home.” She thought as she began to slowly pack her bags and soon left.

The boys on the other hand had just finished checking out the new steakhouse downtown. Simply hanging out without having alcohol involved.

They were just walking down the dimly lit street, their voices were probably the only audible sounds currently apart from the cars driving past every few minutes. The street was quite empty, they could literally count with their fingers on how many people they’ve passed by.

They were just talking about some soccer league when Minho’s eyes travelled towards the alley down the road, only to see a girl petting what looks to be a stray cat.

His eyes lit up as a smile tugged on his lips.

He has never seen anyone openly pet a stray cat around this area before so he was quite surprised to say the least. Nevertheless, he smiled brightly as he quickened his pace, telling the boys to meet up with him at that alley where the cat and unknown girl was.

Minho briskly walked towards the alley, only to be met with a very familiar face.

“Y/N?”

At the mention of her name, she turned to look up towards the guy standing by the sidewalk, currently looking down at her just gently scratching the cat’s ears.

“Minho? Hey…” She smiled and she could feel her heartbeat pick up speed.

“What are you doing out here at this late timing alone?” He asked, genuinely worried.

“I was at the library studying. I‘m on my way home actually.” She admitted, only to feel her cheeks heat up. Just then, she heard Chan’s voice from behind her, making her turn around.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Chan asked, making her giggle with a nod.

“Where were you headed?” He asked.

But before she could answer, a soft meow echoed down the street as the cat pressed it’s head into Y/N’s open hands, making her giggle.

This small gesture was enough to make the boys smile, and maybe Minho’s heart to flutter.

“I actually just told Minho that I was about to head home from the library, when this adorable little one just started following me from down the block and I don’t think it’s gonna leave my side anytime soon.” Y/N said with a soft sigh. The cat meowed yet again as though responding to her.

Minho tilted his head to the side in confusion upon hearing her sigh when she looked down at the pretty brown fur ball before scratching the side of the cat’s face again.

“As much as you’re super adorable, I can’t take you home with me, baby.” Her voice was soft. The cat simply purred with soft round eyes staring back at her. Her words came as a shock to some of them but curious to the remaining.

“Wait, why can’t you?” Minho asked.

“I’m actually sensitive to cats.” She confessed, only for Minho’s heart to blossom. She’s sensitive to cats and yet she still pets them and even showers them with love? Where has she been all his life?

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Is it bad though?” Hyunjin asked, only for her to shake her head.

“I can touch them, but if I stay too long in an enclosed area with them, my skin will start to get red and itchy, and my nose would start to get runny.” Y/N said pressing her lips in a thin line, making the guys nod, feeling bad for her.

Just then, Minho squats down beside her figure only to stretch his arm over to pet the cat and the little fur ball just willingly went over to him. The cat rubs its face against Minho’s knees and thighs. Y/N couldn’t help but smile when she saw just how equally loving he was towards it. At that very moment, Minho just happened to look up only to catch her looking at him.

A small little bubble burst in the pit of his stomach as she soon tickled the cat’s lower back, making it go to her.

Y/N giggled when the cat stood on its hind legs, pressing its two front paws on her collarbone, making her laugh. Y/N cupped the fur ball’s face and soon caressed it sweetly before she nuzzled her nose against the cat’s pink ones, only for the cat to meow in her face.

“Looks like it really loves you Y/N.” Chan said, making her laugh.

However, her smile was soon wiped off and a soft frown appeared on her face. But this didn’t go unnoticed by Minho. So he suggested something quite smart.

“I have an idea. We’ll distract it while you quickly head back home. You know? To avoid it from following you?” Minho said, making the rest of them nod in agreement. She stared at the cat for slightly too long before she locked eyes with Minho, only for her to mouth to him softly.

“Thank you.”

With that being said, the rest of the boys slowly began to huddle around the cat while Y/N carefully got up and tiptoed her way down the street in the direction of her apartment.

She glanced back when she was reaching the traffic junction, only to catch Minho staring at her with a very soft expression. After she finally turned the corner, Changbin couldn’t help but speak up while the rest were busy pouring their attention on the cat.

“Damn, she’s pretty, she’s a team captain, she’s nice, AND she loves cats even though she’s allergic to it? I think you’ve found your match made in heaven, hyung.” He ended with his usual smirk, wiggling his eyebrows to Minho only for the elder boy to huff although he knew deep down that what Changbin said was right.

Y/N went home that night only to find her mind going back to when Minho looked so in love with the cat. Why did that make him look so… so endearing?

She smiled to herself thinking about how happy he looked when the cat was practically smearing its scent all over him. Y/N simply shook her head off of the thoughts and soon took a fresh shower before heading to bed, with Sana still nowhere to be seen.

Ever since that night, Y/N slowly began to warm up with the guys more. Especially Minho since it seemed as though they could literally talk about cats for hours. She found out later that he owned 3 cats in his shared apartment with Chan and that they were basically his children. She couldn’t help but laugh despite finding that extremely cute.

Y/N was added to their group chat which had the boys and Sana in it, only for her to exchange numbers with Minho as well. It has been 3 months since they’ve gotten closer and needless to say, Minho started to fall for her as the days go by and so did she.

It was currently a Saturday evening and both her and Sana got invited to Chan’s place to just hangout and chill, in which the girls agreed without a second thought.

Y/N wore her denim ripped skinny jeans, a shirt tucked in, a black jacket and her converse. Sana wore an open shoulder dress and a pair of vans since she was just a very girly girl compared to Y/N.

They arrived at Chan’s shared apartment, only for her to find out that Minho had kept his cats in his room. Something he doesn’t do whenever any of them come over.

Perhaps he cared for her and he didn’t want her to get sick for coming to their house.

Despite the teasing coming from his friends, he simply ignored them. He brushed them off by saying that he was just trying to be nice. When the girls entered the apartment, immediately, Y/N could already feel her nose being tickled by the atmosphere thanks to the cats living in that space.

But it wasn’t too serious yet but still, a small sneeze left her lips.

They greeted the guys who were in the living room when Minho came out of his room in just grey sweatpants, a tank top and his cutely tousled hair.

As soon as Minho locked eyes with Y/N, he froze in his spot. He saw the small smile on her face, making him shy all of a sudden. A few minutes later, they were all just gathered in the living room when Y/N turned to Minho who was seated on the floor beside her feet.

“Min ah, where’s your cats?” She asked. Minho felt himself tense up at the nickname but quickly regained himself.

“They’re in my room. Why? You wanna see them?” He asked, not realizing that some of them were actually watching them from their respective seats discreetly. Y/N smiled as she gave him a cute little nod. He could’ve sworn his heart jumped out of his chest for a bit. Nonetheless, he brought her to his closed bedroom only to push the door open and was instantly greeted by the soft jingle sounds of their collars.

Y/N smiled as 2 of the fur balls ran up to Minho and her. Making him quickly close the door behind him. Both of them kneeled down onto the ground when the dark grey cat began to nuzzle against her legs, while the light golden one hopped into Minho’s arms effortlessly.

“They’re so cute! What are their names?” She asked as she scratched the grey cat behind its ear, earning a soft purr from it.

“The one in your lap is Dori. This is Soonie. And that sleeping one is Doongie.” Minho introduced when he heard a soft squeak from her in excitement, causing him to chuckle. A blush crept onto his cheeks.

“How long have you had them for?” She asked curiously as Dori snuggled into her chest, making her pout.

“I’ve had them since I was young. When I went off to college, I told my parents I wanted to bring them with me. So, here we are.” Minho said, making her giggle thinking that his story was very cute.

Just then, Dori licked the tip of Y/N’s nose, catching her off guard.

She let out a soft giggle, turning her head towards Minho with her eyes crinkled shut. He found this extremely cute. When she fluttered her eyelids back open, she was met with him staring at her with a warm smile on his face.

She got shy so she turned to look back down at Dori, scratching the back of its ear. Soonie left Minho’s lap as he turned to her and Dori, only for him to give a few scratches to Dori’s head. Just then, Minho leaned in to rub his face into Dori’s body. Y/N giggled, watching him interact with his own pet.

Just then, he pulled away from Dori, taking this chance to turn his head towards her.

But for some reason, it felt like a mistake with how close their faces were from each other. It was almost as if they could feel each other’s breath fanning their lips and unfortunately for them, it was true. The room fell silent as nobody dared to say a word.

For some odd reason, Minho felt brave enough to actually lean in closer.

Y/N watched very carefully as he closed the gap until she could feel his lips brushing against hers very lightly. At that very second, she closed her eyes, afraid to continue looking. Minho saw this and he began to smile, thinking she was adorable.

So he decided not to dwell on this and instead, he firmly pressed his lips on hers. Her breath hitched in her throat. She soon found herself melting against his lips. Minho’s arm found its way around her waist as he pulled her closer, until she could feel Dori jump out of her lap.

She pulled away when her stomach got pressed by Dori’s paws when it leaped off, causing him to chuckle.

“Sorry about that.” He apologized, only for her to smile.

“It’s fine.” She said with a soft little smile, only for him to blush as he kissed her again, this time reaching up to cup her face in his hand. Her heart was racing against her chest when he felt her rest her hands on his chest. Minho pulled away, having to force himself not to get too intoxicated by her soft, crème brûlée tasting lips thanks to her lip balm.

“Can I take you out on a date tomorrow?” He asked, only for her to giggle.

“Will you bring me to see your babies again?” She said.

“That depends.” He teased, making her laugh as he soon did the same. She smiled against his lips when she kissed him again, feeling extremely happy. They came back out to find the rest of them smirking. They asked why the two of them were taking their own sweet time in there, only for Minho to smirk.

“Maybe because I’m going on a date with the cutest, sweetest girl I’ve ever met who loves cats as much as I do?” Minho said, only for the rest of them to cheer happily for the new couple. Y/N blushed as she hid her face in Minho’s arm, causing him to chuckle but he simply hugged her and kissed her forehead endearingly.

Looks like he managed to find the girl of his dreams anyway.

#stray kids #stray kids minho #stray kids lee know #lee know fluff #lee minho fluff #lee know scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz lee know #skz minho fluff #skz x reader #skz minho #lee minho scenarios

207 notes · View notes

immaturityofthomasastruc · 3 years ago

Note

As you said your considering watching "Star Twinkle Pretty Cure" loke with Heartcatch plan too do reviews??

I just finished Episode 16 a few days ago, so I’m about a third of the way into the series. I’ll give my thoughts on it so far.

While I still prefer Tsubomi for her character development, I think Hikaru/Cure Star is a very likable lead with all of the energy she brings to the table. I like how she’s a shameless sci-fi nerd with her love for all things space, mainly constellations and aliens as shown in the first episode. She’s just so full of optimism and eagerness, she fills the role of leader well with how she can easily rally the other Cures. A good example of this was in one episode where Hikaru drew up a redesign for the team’s damaged rocket ship (which I’ll get to later) that the other Cures like so much, they manage to get the repairs done much quicker despite spending some time adding on accessories because of how motivated they are. This is a kind of character trait I really like seeing for leaders, being able to motivate the others to do things outside of the battlefield. Hikaru is just a really fun character so far, and is currently my favorite this season.

Lala/Cure Milky is also a really interesting character so far. Being an alien, most of her episodes deal with her getting to know the human race and its cultures, mainly through her friendship with Hikaru. She starts off more apprehensive to her situation on Earth, but does become more open to learning more. At the same time, this does lead to a flaw where she tends to blindly focus on pure logic and hates failure, much like a certain other alien primarily dressed in blue. There’s an episode where Lala transfers to Hikaru’s middle school and has a pretty bad first day with how little she understands the social protocol, and the next day, she relies on her AI to help her blend in more and understand to the point where she forces herself to stop using her verbal tic “-lun” at the end of her sentences. It shows how much she hates failure, and it says a lot about her character. She still manages to grow past this flaw a little, and I’m looking forward to seeing how else she develops in the series.

Elena/Cure Soleil is basically the big sister of the team kind of like Yuri from Heartcatch, though without the added baggage the latter had for most of her series. She’s referred to as “The Sun of Mihoshi Middle School” by the other characters. Really subtle there, writers. Granted, it’s referring to her friendly attitude towards her fellow students mixed with her athletic skills, which naturally draws a lot of students to admire and look up to her, even Hikaru. Unlike Itsuki, she’s much more relaxed around others and even asks Hikaru to stop referring to her as her sempai, especially since Hikaru has seniority over Elena as a Precure. She’s generally the more level-headed one of the team, and tends to rely on diplomacy more often, like when she diffuses an argument between Hikaru and Lala early on, and later helps to convince some aliens to hand over one of the MacGuffins/toy tie-ins, the Princess Star Color Pens peacefully after helping to defend their planet. From what I’ve heard, Elena and the fourth Cure were added to the show last-minute thanks to executives, but I think Elena fits in with the cast pretty well so far.

Likewise, Madoka/Cure Selene is referred to as “The Moon of Mihoshi Middle School” because she’s... high-class? Fancy? Rich? She’s basically meant to be a foil to Elena in some regards. While Elena is more lax and friendly, Madoka is more stoic and a bit of a perfectionist. While Elena has a happy relationship with her family, Madoka has a much more tense relationship with her father who hates aliens for no reason, and will take any chance he gets to remind the audience how much of an asshole he is. I think he’s running for the Worst Father in Animation Award after hearing Gabriel Agreste won it three years in a row. Madoka generally has the hardest time as a Precure because of how she has to keep it a secret from her xenophobic father, and seems to be struggling with her loyalty. This is mainly because I’m so sick of family drama from Miraculous, but Madoka’s character arc revolving around her relationship with her dad is honestly why she’s my least favorite out of the four.

Fuwa is nothing more than a plot device/cute thing to look at. I mean, at least the fairies in Heartcatch could actually speak in complete sentences, and not say their names like a Pokemon. Prunce is honestly a much more memorable character with his dialogue and plays the role as comic relief well.

I really like the villains so far. They’re all aliens based off Yokai and have their own approaches to the monster of the week formula. Kappard (a Kappa), is a vain warrior who tends to use the imaginations of others to create new weapons to use against the team. Tenjo (a Tengu), views her troops as pawns and uses the the imaginations of others to turn them into giant versions of the show’s grunts, the Nottorei. Aiwarn (a Hitotsume-kozo), is a trickster who uses corrupted Princess Star Color Pens to create the true monsters of the week, the Nottoriga, using the imagination of others. There’s also an Oni-themed alien who’s their boss, but he hasn’t really done much yet. Overall, these villains have some really creative motifs that I really want to see more of. It kind of reminds me of the movie Treasure Planet which did something similar by combining fantasy with sci-fi.

Another thing I really like about this show is how it generally plays with certain sci-fi tropes. The very first time the team goes out into space to search for one of the Princess Star Color Pens, they get into trouble with the locals, who see it as a sacred artifact, and even before that, look down on the Cures for not having fur like they do. It’s a pretty realistic depiction of making first contact with an alien race like that. Another interesting episode is in the aforementioned episode where Lala goes to school for the first time. You’d think that since her kind work are automatically educated by artificial intelligence, she’d be really smart, right? Actually, because of how much she’s relied on an AI to help her do everything, she’s so inept that she can’t even calculate double digits in class like 15+10, and generally struggles on her first day of school.

Generally, I’m really enjoying the show so far, and I’m looking forward to continuing it.

#immaturity of thomas astruc #iota #not miraculous ladybug #precure #pretty cure #star twinkle precure #star twinkle pretty cure

22 notes · View notes

capri-ramblings · 4 years ago

Text

It's finally here! The third Installment of my 'Mother's Reluctance'' ✨ Sebek,Deuce and Epel will be featured in the fourth part! Thank you for your patience!

Warning; Toxic/unhealthy relationships. Mentions of substance.

Please take note every work of mine here is purely fictional and meant for entertainment.

Please do not indulge in my yandere works if you are triggered by its dark, heavy themes.

Trey Clover

- Trey had wondered when the question was going to be asked. The two of you have been together for almost five years and he's noticed how you've adapted to his...darker tendencies as a partner

- He'll be honest,he's impressed. When it all first started he thought he'd have to break you to make the whole relationship work,but it seems you've proven him wrong

- Children are a must have for Trey. He grew up with a fairly large family himself and he couldn't really picture a lasting relationship with you without any children. Plus,his parents had began asking too.

- He had no problems with it,of course. He was more than ready to handle a few more children aside from his younger siblings,the only issue here was you.

- Trey was aware that you weren't so confident in parenting as he was,and he also noticed your reluctance regarding it.

- It annoyed him to a certain degree, and with his subtle charisma,Trey made sure you were aware of it.

- And you were. You just thought that as long as you acted like you didn't,he wouldn't get too frustrated over it.

- Oh,how wrong you were.

- Trey's cunningness hides behind a veil of his usual friendliness towards everyone, and by forgetting that, you were bound to fall for his trap.

- The two of you were closing up the family bakery one night when Trey came out of the kitchen with freshly baked tarts settled neatly on a white plate.

- "Were there extras? I thought we sold out everything..."

- Trey let out a small laugh as he shook his head. You noted how pleased he looked and quietly wondered why he was in such a good mood all of the sudden.

- "No,I made these for us. Your favourites too" He took one tart off the plate and plopped it into his mouth in one go, and the corners of your lips twitched into a small smile.

- "Thanks,but I think I'll pass. I just wanna get into bed and sleep"

- The whole day was a chore. You were used to a bustling bakery filled with customers,but today most of those customers were children, kindergarteners who had their teacher bring them all into the town's favourite Bakery because it was one of their friends' birthday. It was a sweet occasion,you weren't going to lie,seeing those small happy faces filled with sweets had you grinning,but the amount of energy those small human beings demanded was exasperating.

- Trey rose his brows,taking in another tart into his mouth. You missed the dark look he gave you when you turned around to flip the shop's sign from outside.

- "You're missing out" He mused, "It could help rejuvenate that tired body of yours"

- You laughed,shaking your head. You should've expected him to treat you like some worn out kid,Trey always had that habit.

- Though, you weren't expecting his body to press against yours when you turned around to face him. His lips suddenly close enough to just hover above yours.

- "Trey—"

- He leaned down to kiss your lips faster than your words could reach you, and in the moment you pressed yourself into him,Trey slipped one arm around your waist.

- His lips tasted sweet, a mix of vanilla and citrus mingling on his tongue that came to intertwine around yours. When you felt him closing the gap between bodies,the kiss deepened and Trey had you wilting in his grasp. The way his heat engulfed your entire being then gave a sense of high you failed to find in anyone else,and when he finally broke the contact,your lips were swollen and aching for more.

- The look in his eyes before he pulled away from you was tinted with wanton fever. And for a brief second,you thought you saw hunger in them.

- You're stumbling on yourself,of course you are. Trey isn't the type to suddenly pull you into such an intimate thing after all, but you regain your composure fast and with a gentle if not wary nudge, you put a space between you and Trey as you walked pass him and towards the scounter.

- "What was that for?" You asked and heard him chuckling before the sound of the front door locking caught your attention. It was meant to be locked,you remind yourself. The backdoor was always how you and Trey left after all. You wondered then why it bothered you so much in the first place.

- "Can't I be mysterious and kiss you whenever?"

- It sounded harmless,how the words just seem to bounce in your head and you paid it no mind.

- The tray of tarts placed beside you caught your eye a second you were about to reach out and take one for yourself, but something held you back.

- Trey is,above all else, a patient person and that patience you found so comforting is what he'll use against you.

- That night, after getting home and finally be able to just throw yourself onto your mattress. You woke up feeling thirsty and decided to slither out of bed as quietly as you could so Trey wouldn't be disturbed.

- In getting yourself a cold drink, you wonder if the tarts he made earlier were still there and to your pleasant surprise,Trey had kept them chilled in the fridge. Somehow feeling giddy about how spontaneous he was today, you take one and pop it into your mouth.

- Oh, sweetheart. Didn't you realize they tasted a bit too sweet? Trey's Doodle suit should've worn off by now but maybe it was just the exhaustion of the day that made you oblivious to the slight tingling sensation you felt after successfully eating three tarts in a row.

- Then again,how could you have known he slipped in a longing potion in them? He knew if it worked too fast it would seem suspicious and so Trey gave you the leniency of time by making it in small doses.

- He's waited years for the moment you'd beg him to have his seed inside you, a few more months is nothing.

- So,he'll wait and watch as the potion sets into your senses and you start wondering why you ever disliked the thoughts of children in the first place.

- They're so small and harmless and filled with joy...and they the way they'd resemble their parents so perfectly...

- How would your child look like? Would they have Trey's sharp gaze and your complexion? His patience and your wits?

- The thoughts circle through your head like a hypnotising lullaby.

- It began to hurt to wake up and see you don't have a kid of your own with your partner.

- Did Trey still wanted them? You hoped did because this house has started to feel a bit too big for just the two of you.

Jade Leech

- Jade can be cunning and cruel when he wants to and that's what made him such a terrifying partner to anger.

- He had control over himself,he knew when to pull back and when to shove fear down your throat.

- Jade is someone you never want to rile up or provoke even when you never really had a way of seeing the earlier signs of it.

- Possessive and sadistic, whenever Jade wanted a certain type of attention from you, he never failed to make you flinch from it.

- He was also very observant of you, and so he already knew from the start that the topic of having children was something you never wanted to delve into

- But, he liked seeing you squirm with discomfort. So, naturally,the topic often came up. Much to your dismay.

- "Say,why don't you want children, ____?"

- The way he curled his tongue around your name at the end made you shiver and Jade fought back the urge to snicker behind your back.

- Your lips pursed, and you tried to calm your nerves, but even knowing fully well what he was aiming at, you always tend to come off snarky.

- And though he adores your fighting spirit, Jade also loves giving you small punishments afterwards.

- Jade is wickedly patient however, so his process of manipulating you into giving him a child is more likely a slow burn. You don't even notice you're leaning into his fantasies until it's too late.

- He starts subtly at first, as always, pointing out the physical differences between him and you. Reminding you that he isn't human and thus the act of making children would be vastly different from how he'd usually have sex with you.

- His eyes seem to flicker when he sees you squirm underneath his scrutinizing prowess, but the conflicting acts of gentleness that comes afterwards has you cornered.

- He was throwing you out in the cold waters only to reel you back up into his arms,so you'd never know the warmth of another. So you'd depend on him.

- And it was working.

- Jade will choose to tire you out from your refusal. Easing you ever so tentatively into the idea of having children. The idea of truly becoming his wife and partner for life.

- Whether he had you as your current self or somehow altered you into one of his own kind is something he doesn't really mull over. As long as it's you, Jade doesn't care.

- You're both facing the mirror in your bedroom when Jade comes from behind you, his arms swiftly snaking its way around your waist. You fit in his grasp so perfectly,how could he imagine losing you to someone else?

- "Have children with me,my little starfish. Can't you imagine them swimming about? Calling you their mother and swarming you with loving hugs and kisses?"

- His words sounds so peaceful,so serene, you can't help but look into your reflection and see the swollen bump growing in your womb. See how easier your life would be if you surrendered yourself to him completely.

- "You'll make a lovely mother, and your brood will be the light of my life. I'll do anything to make you all happy."

- You breathed in his scent,his skin against yours a solid comfort you've come to yearn for.

- Would he always be this gentle if you gave him what he wanted?

- Days when he'll leave you all alone seemed to make you cringe. If you had a part of him, those days wouldn't bother you,would it?

- Jade intertwined his fingers with yours, a knowing look etched into his expression as he hears you murmur your reply.

- "Please be gentle."

Cater Diamond

- If Cater really wanted kids, he'd have cum inside you from the beginning really.

- He looks like a man with plans and at times he is, but when it came to personal things he always gets too emotionally invested to actually plan things out.

- But truth be told, he had to take a few years to sort his thoughts out to finally be comfortable with the notion of having kids.

- It's not that he disliked them, kids were great most of the time but he didn't exactly enjoy the idea of sharing his sweet Cupcake with an infant.

- After all, children required a lot of caring for and that's what good parents do, and what you and him have to face up to.

- But Cater didn't want that. He wanted you to himself. His Cupcake's time and effort should be showered onto him and him alone.

- A child would be a hindrance to that.

- But then a light bulb beamed in his thoughts and Cater came to a conclusion that if he had kids with you then your life would be completely in his hands!

- Unlike his carefree facade, Cater's yandere side is controlling and extremely possessive. If a kid is what it takes to have you forever, then he'll have twenty of them without a doubt.

- and they'll all call him Papa

- And you'd be their sweet,caring, mommy.

- This fantasy of his is a nightmare to you, and chances are Cater already guessed you were against it

- Though if you think that'll stop him, you're wrong.

- He's your capable Senpai,after all. He'll know the perfect tricks to get you on his side.

- You're extremely off the edge with how suddenly gentle and thoughtful Cater's been the last few weeks, how he hasn't played one of his manipulative mind games on you or increasing the 'rent' for staying with him, and you're half believing that maybe he's back to his old self. But there's this sick feeling in your stomach that doesn't seem to budge the more you spend time thinking about it and you keep telling yourself that he's baiting you into some sort of trap.

- So, you keep your guard up. Taking in the smallest gestures and carefully analysing them, making sure you hadn't somehow made Cater upset

- You knew how crafty he was after all.

- But being crafty wasn't his only strong suit,omitting that made you vulnerable to him.

- Cater has his charms, at times you don't even see him get all possessive over you until he has you trembling underneath him on the bed.

- Maybe it was the fact he always hid his true expressions, growing up with bossy sisters gave him the upper hand of disclosing any bitter thoughts and gestures.

- So,no, you don't realize it when he slips in the aphrodisiac in your drinks and snacks little by little everyday.

- No, you don't seem to wonder why you're always hot and bothered when he's not even paying you any attention.

- You don't even know why he hasn't even touch you at all in any way. No hugs from behind or pecks on the cheek. Not even a single wink.

- He's feeding you stuff to throw your hormones into a turbulent storm and he's going to let you starve.

- The doses are so small,so damn meticulous, you'd think it was ridiculous for anyone to even pull off but Cater does.

- Because he's determined to make you beg for it, because he knows that if you beg then you can't tell him otherwise later on.

- He's pushing you into a steep edge of a cliff and then he'll blame you for acting scared and asking him for help.

- Out of the manipulating yanderes out there,Cater is the most shameless.

- He wants you to hear you say it, needs to have a deluded sense of consent.

- You're his Cupcake after all, if you weren't willing, then it's not exciting. He doesn't like seeing you cry with all that sad, desperate pleadings.

- He wants you to welcome him,to accept him.

- When you finally hit your limit, Cater is quick to come to your side and give you whatever you needed from him.

- Thirsty? Oh sweetheart,he already has a glass of cold water for you here!

- Feverish? No problem, he'll stay up to monitor your temperature!

- You're starting to get all grabby and clingy too? Teling him how you didn't want him to leave and that you felt all lonely. He doesn't mind. He'll let you do whatever you wanted to him.

- Those aphrodisiacs can be such a bother, right? Of course. He understands. He won't tell you off for it. Not yet at least.

- "You don't look at me anymore, you don't touch or even hold me...Did I do something wrong? Are you angry? Please say something. It's like you're not even here anymore."

- Your mind's all muddied and scrambled, your skin burning and senses stirred. Half of what you say don't even make it to your own ears but somehow the way Cater looks down at you with such sympathetic eyes gets you all teary eyed.

- "Aw, Cupcake. Don't cry,hey,I'm not going to leave you, okay?"

- "Listen,I'm the one who made you stay with me right? Why would I leave you,hm?"

- "Come on,don't be sad. You know I hate it when you start getting sad..."

- Cater wipes away the tears on your cheeks,the heat from his palms cupping your face sending chills down your spine. It felt so good to be touched. It's as if you've been deprived of a crucial living necessity.

- You even started calling out his name, looping it around your tongue like a mantra as you bury your face into his chest, melting into his embrace.

- Cater's holding back a laugh when he runs his fingers through your hair, his eyes dulled and glazed over.

- Intoxicated.

- "Come on, Cupcake, if you don't stop that I'll have to eat you up tonight."

Silver

- He's surprisingly very straightforward with it.

- One of the mildest yanderes amongst the boys, Silver doesn't resort to violence or manipulation.

- It's not that he isn't good at either one, he is, you've seen multiple times how easily he overwhelmed past suitors who thought they could take you away from him, how easy his tongue told lies that crafted everyone into his scheme, but Silver simply doesn't see the point.

- Why would he put in so much effort into something that could be dealt with normally?

- If he wanted children, he would tell you and then he'll wait for your reply. He'll watch how your body reacts to him wanting to set his mark on you permanently.

- You can tell him no, and he'll nod his head.

- The next day, he'll ask you for your reason, and you can tell him that you aren't ready, that children were hard for you to handle.

- Again, he'll silently let your answer seep into him.

- The third day, he'll give you his answer,his reason and he'll make you choose.

- "If you give me a child, you can stay with your parents until you deliver."

- And then suddenly,your entire world comes crashing down on you.

- You're not sure if you're hearing him right and patiently,Silver repeats his offer and you're staring at him as if your eyes are adjusting to some sort of light you were hidden away from.

- He knows why you're stumped, though. Silver took you away from your family and friends the moment he had you in his grasp.

- You were his precious songbird,his treasured magpie. No one else could hold open the doors to your cage save for Silver himself.

- He lets you think it over, because that's just how he is despite how impatient he seems to look,Silver could wait for over a year for your reply. He won't lay a hand on you, never has really, but the way his gaze seemed to freeze over whenever he looked to you gave you the impression that if you ever came to displease him, you'd be cut down in a second.

- How terrifying it was to not know when a trap has been disarmed.

- Silver was not an easy man to read.

- So,you think and you think and think until your mind is burning from the lack of rest. You're trying to sort out the possibilities of him lying to you but it doesn't add up, because that isn't the sort of person Silver is.

- He doesn't lie. Doesn't need to.

- You're always stumbling on your feet when it came to him.

- He's stirred awake from his nap when you came knocking on his study's door, your dress finely ironed and fitted perfectly to your figure. He admires how lovely you look in his home and Silver reaches out a hand to touch your sleeve, a small smile curled on his lips.

- "Your beauty makes me happy." He coos, somehow as if he's still in a dream. If only you could share his easiness.

- You're fighting the urge to turn stiff from his softness towards you, but are left relieved when he pulls away.

- "You've decided." It's not a question, and you look up to him,brows furrowing.

- "I haven't said anything yet"

- "No. But your skin is flushed, and your eyes are warm. You've already found an answer" Silver sounds so sure, effortlessly charming with how languid and smooth his words leave him. And the way he's able to read out your profile makes you wonder what else he seems to know about the thoughts your kept from leaving your lips.

- Truth is, the reason why Silver knows you so well is that his obsession over you has made him revolve his life around you. From the way you dressed to the very way you sleep,he keeps a detailed picture of it in his mind and they play in his thoughts when he dreams.

- A yandere Silver is one who's immensely enamored by his sweetheart, and ensures that their life is never too far from him to miss out.

- He knows you never wanted children,more so with him, but instead of making it seem like a permanent imprisonment, he'll make it a momentary freedom.

- Have his child and you'll get to see your family,go back to your childhood home and spend your days there until the child is born.

- There would be no lingering gazes or looming shadows watching you, you'd have your old life back if not a glimpse of it before you go back to his suffocating arms.

- But be wary,and be smart. Silver isn't a fool, once you're carrying his child he'll also place a small curse on you which will ultimately harm the life you hold inside you.

- This curse is triggered only if you try to escape him.

- You're only informed of it only after you're well under six months into the pregnant of course, and Silver will have the same calm, almost lazy demeanor when he does so,his gaze never once leaving yours as he watches you break down crying.

- He'll come up to your side though and gently run his hands up and down your back.

- "Don't worry,my love. As long as you keep to our promise, our young prince will be nothing but perfect."

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland fanfic #twst Wonderland yandere #male yandere #twst trey clover #twst trey #yandere trey #twst jade leech #twst jade #yandere jade #twst cater diamond #twst cater #yandere cater #twst silver #yandere silver #male yandere x reader

354 notes · View notes

league-of-thots · 5 years ago

Text

Leave Me a Message

Pairing: Hawks x reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, some suggestive themes, um gl with this? im told by my beta it was very sad

Words: 9.4k

A/N: so um. this happened. First off, if you’d like to go break your heart some more, go check out the MASTERLIST because everyone worked super hard on these and there are some really amazing writers.

Og, this was supposed to be 3k, and then it just kept going and im suffering ok jesus that was so long. it was also kind of a way for me to get out some of my own inner turmoil around some stuff and i fucking loved writing it. ...not to be lame but yes i did cry writing it (shhh) anyways, i hope you enjoy? as much as you can enjoy angst of course.

Hawks doesn’t do commitment. He’d said that from the start, that he wasn’t out looking for someone to try and grab his heart from out his chest, that he was simply looking for someone to keep his body company. He told you that he was tired of the press making a big deal of him being single, that all you would have to is hang out with him a bit, dates and couple things. He said that he’d been missing some company, that it would be amazing to have someone to spend some of his (very little) time off of patrol with. It was simple to you, who wouldn’t take the opportunity to be on the arm of a successful pro hero? Who would turn down the chance to learn more about the elusive Hawks, the one who’d baffled the media’s attempts to discover anything about him at all?

You told yourself you weren’t going to make the mistake of getting attached, he was the number two hero after all, he had so much choice. There was no way you were going to be an idiot about it, this was only for some curiosity about the man.

You enter the bar, a little awestruck at how clean and upscale it was. Of course, it wasn’t too surprising given the fact that this was the number 2 pro hero. He was bound to have some cash to throw around for a good time, plus he’d already told you that he’d be paying for the night.

How could you refuse him?

The night started out slow, the two of you lightly discussing regular day to day topics, but it intrigued you how carefully he spoke about everything. You didn’t really know him but you could’ve sworn that he had a plan with everything that he said, that everything he did was carefully calculated. To be honest, it was a little chilling, but as the alcohol started flowing along with the conversation, he relaxed a bit and you had to admit that he was a really fun person to talk to.

The two of you had gotten closer in the circular booth as the night had gone on, blaming the loud surroundings and dim light so that you could see and hear each other better. He had this dry wit that left you struggling for breath as you laughed at his jokes and his teasing. He seemed to be enjoying himself too, but honestly, you couldn’t really read him at all.

It was getting into the wee hours in the morning when the conversation took a more serious turn, the conversation starting to be about what this was, and what this would be.

He was quite direct that he’d make it worth your while

“No offense, love, but if I’m being completely honest, I’m just not good at relationships. They’re not my thing. But I’m lonely and bored, and honestly? You caught my eye.” He’d said this in a low voice to you at the bar, his breath tickling your ear and you flutter your eyelashes up at him.

“Are you asking me for a night of fun, Mr. Hawks?” you say coyly.

“Maybe a night, maybe more if I like you.” He leans in to whisper to you, “You’ve got a pretty good chance babe.”

“You’re not worried about me not liking you?” you weren’t really taken aback; it was to be expected from the number two hero that if you came to meet him, you were interested in him for sure.

He leans back, with his hands behind him. “If I’m reading your body language right, and I’m pretty good at that y’know, then I’d say you’ve been pretty excited the whole night.”

You laugh a bit at that. “Well, you’re not wrong I guess.”

“Then I have nothing to worry about at all.”

Your arrangement with Hawks started as a few dates in more secluded public areas, the first being a movie which you’d taken a bus to get too. When you’d gotten there, you went inside like he had asked you too. There, you saw him in the furthest corner, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. It wasn’t working well and you had to stifle a giggle as you walked up to him.

The only reason that people didn’t seem to be coming up to him was the fact that the normally upbeat and friendly hero was closed off, and looking rather downtrodden.

“Hey, Hawks.” You say, bumping his shoulder with your own playfully. “How’re you doing.”

“Better now that you’re here,” he smoothly slips his arm into yours, face morphing into a slightly happier expression. “Would you happen to be a fan of popcorn and a drink at the movies, Y/N?”

“Of course! How can you have one without the other?” He smiles at that, a quick upturn of his lips and its quickly gone again as he guides you to the counter to get some snacks and drinks. It wasn’t supposed to be an incredibly exciting movie, but it was supposed to be decent enough that the two of you could enjoy it together and relax without really having to push through any awkward tension that could still be around with the two of you being relative strangers.

It was like a neutral ground to start off the fake relationship, while the two of you could learn about one another. It had to look real in public after all, Hawks wanted people off his back.

Although, the last night the two of you had spent together after the bar had certainly been real. It had also left you so sore you could barely walk the next day, but that was another story for another day.

The two of you sit down in one of the further rows, but not in the back. You have a good view of the screen; you notice as you sit down with Hawks. You look over to him, and see that carefully guarded neutral expression on his face again. It’s almost as if there’s a mask he has under the skin of his face, that snaps back into place whenever it falters for a little, or he actually shows something of his true thoughts.

It was almost eerie how well he did it, how second nature it seemed to him. No wonder the press couldn’t get shit on him, you thought, he’s not exactly an open book to read, and he’s actively trying to make it harder for people. You wondered if it was just because he preferred his privacy or if he had a really big secret that he felt he needed to keep.

That was almost amusing, thinking the reason Hawks was so mysterious is some large secret that there was pressure on him to keep.

The opening previews shook you out of your thoughts, seeing one for a book to movie adaptation that was coming out soon and you were super pumped to see. It had your favourite director working on it, and they said they’d worked closely with the author during the script writing process you and were really hopeful that it would turn out well.

You looked to Hawks to whisper this to him in excitement and he leans over so you could whisper it so as to not disturb the people around you. When you’re done, he turns to whisper back in your ear, “Guess we’ll be back at the movies soon then.” He watches your face become a bright smile, a little heat in your face from excitement and a little embarrassment as he was giving you his full attention as you fangirled a bit.

The movie was actually pretty decent, you thought during the middle of it. The acting carried the script though, and they were lucky at how much chemistry there was between the actors given most of them hadn’t done movies with each other before. A little way after that, Hawks leaned back in his chair, actually more relaxed than you’d ever seen him before, as he brought his arm back around you. You rolled your eyes at the little cliché he’d performed, but still found it sweet. You could feel the warmth he gave off and it made you feel comfortable and safe.

After the movie, the two of you parted ways, but not before he gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek, and the promise to see you soon.

“I’m going to be really busy the next few weeks, so it might be a little while before we can do something like this again.” He warned, “Things are really picking up with criminal activity and such.”

“If you were going to be so busy you should be at home resting,” you scold, and then your eyes widen in shock at what you’d just blurted out. “I, uh- I mean…” you try to recover but Hawks was laughing hard.

“Trying to get rid of me so soon? I thought the date was pretty fun, myself.” He teases, seeing what you’ll do next.

“It was! Just um-, you’ve got to be safe out there and stuff. So, you should get your rest, I would understand if you had to cancel because of that.” You finish a little lamely.

“That’s very sweet, Y/N, it really is. But honestly? Doing something like this is way more of a recharge for me. Makes me relax a little bit. So, thank you for the nice date. That is if you’ll have me?” he cocks an eyebrow with a crooked smile.

“Of course, now go get some sleep, bird brain.” He chuckles, and with a wave he’s off, streaking through the air. You’re hit with a bit of a gust of wind, but seeing him fly up close? Totally worth it.

You turn around and start walking to the bus stop that’ll take you back home, it had been quite a good date and you were in high spirits.

You could see this whole arrangement working out quite well for you, if that first date was anything to go by.

The fourth date was the one that he really started to show you what actually lay beneath the mask that he put on all the time. The two of you had been texting over a few weeks, and because he was so busy, a couple short get togethers happened, but this was the first time he had a whole day off for a long time.

The topics the two of you had been texting about varied to asking simple questions about what kind of tea was your favourite, to what you thought would happen to you after you died. That had been a weird night, but you saw the next day it had been because Hawks had been on patrol and had been unable to completely save people from a villain. It had been one person out of hundreds, but you could feel his guilt through the screen.

Among the lighter topics though, you found out that Hawks hadn’t really ever learned how to cook or bake. He said that he never learned from anyone, so he mostly did takeout and easy to make meals. You decided it would be fun to teach him how to bake, there were a few sweet treats that were easy enough to do. Certainly, he’d be able to handle it, you thought, especially since he made so many other difficult things look easy.

Hawks, in fact, could not handle it, you’d later find out.

The doorbell rings, and you take off your apron that you’d been wearing to get the baking started so that it wouldn’t take as long. There was still a fair amount of work to do, and the icing had to be made. You’re really hoping he enjoys it, it’s a new idea and you’re a little nervous.

You greet him and take his coat to hang it up as he takes off his shoes, he’s wearing cargo pants and unmatching socks, one pink and the other grey, along with a black t-shirt. You let him look around a bit before directing him to the kitchen a little nervously.

“Um, so I was thinking because you said you’d never really baked before that we could try and make a little something?” you’re fiddling with the hem of your shirt as he grabs your hands to stop you from doing that.

“That sounds like a really fun idea, Y/N. It’s really cute.” He gives you a quick smile as you smile at the praise. “Now. What are we making Chef?”

You giggle a bit at that. “I was thinking a carrot cake with some buttercream icing.”

“Well that doesn’t sound easy.” You shush him.

“It is! And I’ve already done some of it, so we can eat it sooner.”

He looks unconvinced. “I don’t know if I can handle this.”

“It’s baking,” you scoff. “You save people for a living, I’m pretty sure you can handle some baking.”

Famous last words, the start wasn’t to bad, Hawks fallowing your instructions carefully. It was when he got confident that he first fucked it up.

“So, now all you have to do is whip this with the blender for a few minutes around the bowl. When it starts getting a thicker consistency let me know, because that’s when you have to hand do it.” You’d decided on cinnamon rolls with a nice smooth icing on top that would become a glaze.

“Got it,” he chirps, putting the metal parts of the hand mixer in the bowl before starting it up and putting to medium high like you’d instructed him to do. “Maybe you were right, sweets, this isn’t too bad.”

“See? Even a bird brain like you can get it!” you laugh.

And then it happened.

After you said that to him, he turned around to give you a playful spank on the ass, forgetting he’d been holding the bowl on the counter in place with his hand. At the same time, he lifted the hand holding the mixer.

You both let out a sharp cry of surprise, you from getting slapped and both of you from the loud crash and the bowl goes flying and the icing gets flung everywhere. You look at him slack-jawed as he frantically turns off the hand mixer and gives you a sheepish look.

“Oops?” he says with a nervous smile.

“Oh. My god.” You get out before you start laughing so hard you’re keeled over, your stomach starting to hurt. “What the fuck Hawks? Hahah! How did you manage to get the bowl to fly that far!”

He scratches his hair and laughs along with you. “I’m actually really unsure, I honestly thought that I was going to get through this without messing it up. Sorry I ruined the icing, Y/N.”

You wave your hand. “It’s fine, cinnamon rolls are still good without the toppings.”

“Hold up.” You turn over and he has a calculating look on his face. “Is this why you did most of the mixing before I got here.”

“Noooooo…… of course not.” You say unconvincingly, knowing he already knows the answer.

“You’re so mean to me,” he pouts, sticking out his bottom lip like a child.

“Hey, but now we can still eat the cinnamon roles! So that’s a good thing.” You say brightly, swiping a bit of the icing with your finger and popping it in your mouth. He looks down at you and for once his eyes crinkle with a genuine smile and your heart skips a beat. He’s absolutely stunning, you think.

“Uh, let’s get – let’s get this all cleaned up, alright?” you get out turning yourself around to distract your thoughts from him. And his eyes, when they crinkle, and oh my god he’s such a cutie, what the fuck?

You somehow manage to avoid acting like a fool for the remainder of the time while the two of you clean up, trading words and jokes with one another, the conversation flowing like a lazy stream.

When they were done you squealed out in excitement and grabbed some mitts to take out the pan but as soon as you open the oven door, some feathers zip in to grab it. You look over at him and he gives you an innocent smile.

“Wouldn’t want you to accidentally drop them.” You scowl.

“I’m not the one who made a mess of the whole kitchen, you dork.”

“Fair enough, where do I put these?”

“Just put the tray on the pads in the dining room, I’m going to make some tea.”

“Alright.”

Once the water is heated, you grab a few different packets to see what he wants, and make your way over to the table with him. You gesture at the tea packets, and he takes the Camomile tea and you open the kettle to let him drop it in.

“Now we just have to wait for the tea to steep and the rolls to cool down! Not too bad if I do say so myself.” You tell him happily. It had been really fun watching him do something so carefree, he seemed more relaxed than normal.

“It was really fun Y/N.” he said with what you thought genuine sincerity. “I never got to really do this before, and it was a lot different than I thought it would be baking with someone.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it Hawks!”

“Uh, you could call me Takami? That’s my family name. Keigo Takami.” He says, stumbling over it a bit, as if the words were trying to rush themselves out of his mouth.

You pour out the tea into the cups you have, and you watch him dive into the rolls, face lit up. He really likes his sweets, and he says how good they are and how he was so amazed he’d had a part in making them.

“Most of the stuff I try to cook either tastes bland, gross, or its burnt.” He mentions offhandedly.

You look at him closely. “Seriously? I’m going to have to teach you how to cook so you can actually get some healthy food into you aren’t I?”

“You don’t have to do that!”

“Yes, I do.” He doesn’t argue with you, knowing that the battle is lost, and accepts it with a sigh.

The two of you finish the night by watching a movie, which leads to something, which leads to something else… It was a pretty awesome date night you think as you drift off to sleep.

Although doing ‘couple-like’ things in public, you found the two of you were growing closer as friends, at least, outside of any bedrooms. There was something free and liberating about being a friend (with benefits) to Keigo, and you got to glimpse the tiny parts of his life that had physical forms, whether it be photos, or actions or stories.

The more you learned though, the more you wanted to know more about him, to understand him and be there for him.

You saw how lonely he actually was, he really wasn’t joking when he’d said that to you on the first night the two of you had seen each other in person. How his life when he wasn’t being the Number Two Hero was empty as if he didn’t really know what to do with it, as if he were lost and didn’t really know himself either.

The only picture he had of people in his house was one with him, and a middle-aged woman with weary eyes that must’ve been his mother. The photo was a little yellowed, and a little crumpled, but the frame was simple wood with intricate carvings on the side. There was a wooden flower beside it.

What had happened to him? To his family?

Sometimes when you called him Keigo as you entered a room and he wasn’t facing you; he would shudder as if someone had a knife pressed to his throat, and there was nothing that he could do about it. Or when sometimes he would dose off and mumble in his sleep for someone to help him, he promises he’d do better next time… You always tried to wake him up gently when that happened, and he’d thank you and then shut down any attempts to talk about it. Every time. Not a single word.

So, you let it be.

Obviously, he didn’t know how to not be alone, and it stung you to the very core that nobody else was really there for him.

Everyone needs a friend, and you were happy to be that friend for him.

You realized the predicament you were in suddenly one day as you were going into your regular café for your morning coffee, ordering one for yourself and one for the winged hero who you planned to spend some time before patrol with. You didn’t even second guess ordering his coffee just as he liked it, excited to see the smile on his face when you’d give it to him. He’d still get surprised by the little gestures you’d do to show him that you cared, that it wasn’t just a game for you, that you were his friend.

You hadn’t realized how rare it was to get a genuine smile from him, but you were willing to do so much just to see it. Then it hit you. You wouldn’t go to these lengths for any friend, Keigo was special to you in a way that the other’s in your life weren’t. You think you know what that means, and it terrifies you.

You knew he didn’t do the whole relationship aspect, he’d said as much, and everything in his life had backed that up as well.

The barista has to call you a couple times for you to snap you out of your mild panicked thoughts, looking a little annoyed. You quickly apologize, shoving your feelings down and grabbing the coffees hastily as you make your way to the place where he’d be meeting you. You were going to be a couple minutes late, which always made you flustered, and on top of that you were freaking out about trying to keep those emotions you’d buried down there.

They were not going to see the light of day, you promised yourself that. Maybe you could cram them down so far deep that they’d disappear.

Ha. As if. You knew it wasn’t going to be that easy, but that was a later problem that you weren’t prepared to deal with right now.

When you get there, a smile does light up his face as he thanks you, relishing the coffee. The two of you start walking down the street, Hawks waving at people who yell at him, putting on that fake-smile-that-looks-real for people who ask him to join them in a picture, or sign something for them.

He did it all with patience, but through the cracks you could see the weariness dripping through. The way he put it was that he wanted to do as little work as possible. You assume that’s for this part of the hero business as well.

“Well, thank you for your support! I’ll be sure to do my best, don’t worry.” He says to a little boy, bending down and flicking his hat, which gets a smile and a giggle from the kid. “Thank you all for your support!” he says loudly as he stands up, and people cheer before easily making their way away from him, the dismissal clear.

The two of you sip your coffee as you walk down the street. You said you’d go for a quick walk around the city with him before he has to clock in for patrol. While you’re walking, he laces his fingers with yours.

“You don’t mind, do you?” he mutters under his breath. Your pulse is fluttering but you shake your head no and sip on your coffee. “Good, it’s getting chilly.”

After you drop him off you can’t help but look at your hand and smile, giggling to yourself a bit as you squeeze your hand. His hand had been so smooth compared to what you thought it would be like, but then again, he didn’t really fight with his fists and he wore gloves. It had felt so good though, the weight of his hand in yours.

After you noticed how you felt about Keigo though, it became harder and harder to try and ignore the feelings that seemed to bubble up whenever the two of you would talk or text or hang out. Little pangs of excitement would ring out against your will whenever the chime of the ringtone you’d set for him would sound.

You perk up a little as once again it alerts, going over to read what he sent you.

Keigo: gonna have to be away a little more in the next few weeks -_-

Y/N: aww why :(

Keigo: secret stuff shhhhhh. I gotta go check out some weird villain movement

Y/N: stay safe ok?

Keigo: don’t worry, they won’t catch me im too fast :P

Y/N: srsly if you die ill kill you >:(

You don’t hear from it at all in the next few weeks, and you didn’t realize how much the two of you had been in contact with, but your days felt strangely empty without the noise that he made so often.

You missed him, and more than that, you were worried about him so much. Since when did top heroes go on secret assignments? Wasn’t that stuff for the underground heroes to take care of? Why did he sound so calm about it?

The questions whirled around in your head, day in and day out. The couple of weeks pass in a daze for you, everything seeming out of wack in your life. Part of you was angry at yourself for being so distracted by him, and the other part was busy screaming all the worst-case scenarios that could happen to him. You have nightmares about him injured and bleeding, eyes lifeless. You check your phone at least a few times whenever you can, just seeing if maybe he’s sent a text to you.

You’ve sent him a few messages here and there, small things like “I hope you’re doing ok!”, or “I miss you”, or “I’m really hoping you’re safe.”

In the middle of the third week, you hear that chime and you jump up, excited. It’s a short message, but he must be exhausted from his mission, he was away for so long. He asked if you could go over to his apartment sometime soon. Said he needed to talk to you and stuff. His text was short and to the point, he seemed nervous about something.

Some of the worries had disappeared at the ringing noise came creeping back at that, but you responded that you would whenever you were both free. He said that he’d be off of work for a little while, which was concerning, so you were going over tomorrow. You settled in for a rough night.

What were you supposed to bring to someone’s house when they had been tossed into secret mission to track down some dangerous villains and were most likely injured? There wasn’t a handguide on that unfortunately, but you did know that he loved one of the soups you had made one time. So, you made some in the morning when you got up, put it in a container and on your way to his apartment for lunch.

Hopefully that would be acceptable, even though you knew Keigo didn’t really care that much about pomp and other gifts. You think he was grateful to have some company, he loved being on the move and sitting still for a long time would be a special type of hell.

So, you wanted to do something nice for him.

In all honesty, you didn’t think it would be that bad when he opened the door with a bruised and cut face, as well as an arm sling with his ribs all bandaged up.

“Oh my god!” you screamed, your free hands flying up to your face. “What the hell happened to you!” he shushes you and pulls you into the apartment.

“Not so loud! It’s not public!” he chastises you.

“Oh, right sorry. I’m just – Keigo, what happened to you? You disappear for almost three full weeks and you come back looking as if someone used you as a punching bag.”

“Surprisingly enough, that metaphor is rather accurate.” You feel your eyes bugging out of your head and he sees that. “Hey! Don’t worry, this isn’t the worse I’ve been beaten up- Oh god that’s probably not comforting.”

“No, it isn’t! Is there anything you can tell me?” you plead.

He shakes his head sadly, pretending to zip up his lips and lock them. “But I can tell you that I’ll be back to normal in about a week or so. I could also tell you about the people I met that weren’t y’know, villains. And you brought soup! You’re the best dove.” You blush a little at the new nickname, but you did notice that the nervousness he’d had when he’d been texting with was definitely still there and it put you off a little bit.

The two of you ate, the only sounds coming from eating, and the brief comments that Keigo was giving about where he’d been. You nodded in interest, interjecting every once and a while to ask a question for detail.

After the meal, the two of you sat down together in silence until Keigo cleared his throat.

“Can I talk to you about something more serious?” You nodded, here came what he’d been stressing about since last night. “God, ok this is harder than I thought for some reason.” He gives a dry chuckle. You stay silent. “Um, I think we’re going to have to take a break from the whole ‘side benefits’ we got going along, you okay with that, dove?” ah. So, this was it. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. But at least you knew what, now you wanted to hear the why.

But Keigo was fickle, he didn’t like being backed into a corner. If you would’ve directly asked, you’d get no answer that would satisfy you. So you sit their with your heart falling out of your chest.

“I mean, if that’s what you want.” You say as neutrally as possible, trying to hide the hurt from your features. It didn’t work as well as you planned based on Keigo’s scowl.

“You’ve got to talk to me, what about that makes you upset?”

“It’s nothing, I’ll get over it. I knew this wouldn’t last forever.” You mutter, trying to shrug him off. At least this way you could get over him, maybe.

“I did say no guarantees at the beginning,” he frowns. It felt like he was rubbing it into your face, and it fucking stung like a cut being washed with rubbing alcohol. “I told you that I’m not good with this whole interpersonal thing.”

“Yeah, I fucking know that!” each word was like a sting, and your voice echoes in the empty apartment. “Can you at least tell me why.” You hate that your voice cracks on that last sentence.

“There’s this someone I’ve been talking too, when I was out there. A little rough around the edges, but really fucking amazing. I was trying to slip into their friend group you know? Turns out we felt the same way.”

You feel your heart drop out of your chest and into your stomach. “Wow, Keigo! That’s amazing, I’m so happy for you!” you hear yourself say. The words ring hollow, but he’s so wrapped up in his excitement that for once, he doesn’t notice.

“I’ve never felt this way about anyone before,” he enthuses, impassioned. “It’s like a totally different wavelength you know.” His feathers were doing this cute little ruffling, and your heart ached. You had to keep your hand back from going to smooth them. Some nights, when the two of you were just hanging out and relaxing, he’d let you smooth them out. He said it felt good, and the texture always made you feel calm.

You needed some of that calm right now.

“I’m glad you found someone then.” And you really were, you knew how alone he was. You were happy he found someone he liked. You just wish it had been you.

You think it was some type of torture, watching Keigo fall in love with someone else. The way he’d talk with his eyes lighting up, the way that he’d do that thing where his feathers would ruffle when he’d think of them with a dopey smile on his face when he thinks you’re too occupied to pay attention to him.

It fucking killed you when it happens, although you made no effort to break away from him. You couldn’t. You knew that he needed you there, he’d said as much with his small actions, the way he thanked you every time you spent time with him.

You wondered what you had done to deserve this.

Eventually, it was too much for you too handle, when he’d started leaving the city more often to go visit them, you started making excuses for why you didn’t have as much time for him in the few weeks.

“Works really busy this week sorry.”

“Oh, I’m sick, and I wouldn’t want you to catch it”

“I’m sorry I’m really tired, I can’t hang out today.

You couldn’t get over him, and you couldn’t tell him either. It seems you could do nothing but ache while he prospered.

It was hard, making distance. You hadn’t realized how close the two of you had gotten, and you hadn’t realized that you had needed him as much as he needed you.

The phone rings and you see the caller.

Of course, it’s him. It seems no matter how you try to distance yourself you can’t really get away from him. It always seems like you’re in his wingspan. Always in his reach.

You pick up the phone, “Hey Keigo! What’s up.”

You were a fucking fool. Keigo might’ve been the one with the wings, but you’d flown too close to the sun that you’d wanted to see and learn about. The sun that you’d wanted to bask in the warmth in and claim as your own.

You’d forgotten one of the first things that he’d texted you.

It hurt so bad.

You were such an idiot.

At first when Keigo said he’d been dumped a few months later; you didn’t believe him. Who the fuck would tell Hawks that he wasn’t good enough for them?

“Ha-ha, very funny joke Keigo.” You say sarcastically. “Don’t stand there out in the rain, idiot.” You gesture for him to come inside.

He makes his way over the doorstep, eyes unfocused as if he hadn’t even noticed the fact that it was raining. He wordlessly hands you his phone, and you gasp at the text that he’d been sent.

They said he couldn’t be trusted, that they didn’t want to work to get him to open himself up, that even he wasn’t worth the amount of effort they’d need to use in order to actually get to know him.

“Still don’t believe me?” His voice cracks on the last word, as he takes a deep breath to compose himself.

“Fuck, Keigo. I’m so sorry. I didn’t- I’m so sorry.” You bring him in, sit him down and go grab him a towel with some old clothes one of your exes had left in your home when you’d broken up.

You hand it to him and tell him to shower if he wants to, but at least put some dry clothes on. He listlessly follows your instructions, and you’ve never seen him look so dull. It scared you. While he’s busy though – you vaguely hear your shower in the background get turned on – as you put some tea on. Chamomile, his first choice all those months ago. It was his comfort tea. You also slipped into your room to grab the softest blanket you had.

You waited about half an hour for him, so you turned on the gas fireplace in the room, warming yourself and staring into the flames as you waited.

Who would say something so terrible?

You’d never met his partner, Keigo was secretive at the best of times, but when it came to people, he was especially paranoid. You knew it was because he’d amassed enemies in his years as a pro, but sometimes it was frustrating to deal with.

However, they must have been truly awful to say something like that.

You wonder if they would’ve said that stuff if they’d seen the empty apartment, bare of most things that gave a house a character. The lone photo which looked to be at least a decade, maybe closer to two, years old.

You wonder if they had seen past the mask too, and if that had scared them. Or maybe they hadn’t even noticed it in the first place given the wording of the final text. You knew the pain Keigo was going through, you lived through it every. Single. Day.

You hated seeing it, but a small selfish part of you celebrated the fact that you had a chance again.

Pathetic.

You place your head in your hands, trying to clean your thoughts. You needed to be here for him again, and you were going to be.

When he walks into the room, he notices you and slumps down into the couch, his eyes red, and his jaw clenched.

But he wasn’t crying, and it didn’t look like he had either. The rest of his face would be messed up and red if that were the case.

“You can let it out, Keigo.” You put a hand on his arm and rubbed comforting circles into his back, trying to ease him through it. “You don’t have to keep everything bottled up inside.”

He laughs bitterly at that, and you’re taken aback. “Yeah, actually, I do. But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Alright. Then we can just rest, and have some tea, maybe put on some calming music. Does that sound good to you?”

He nods, he can’t look up at you though. “Thanks, Y/N.”

“No problem, Keigo. Be right back.”

When you do come back, he’s just laying there, staring blankly in front of him. He looks lost and confused.

“Have you ever felt like this,” he asks in a soft voice. A surge of anger hits you, after all this time he still hasn’t noticed. But you push it down and clear your throat instead.

“Yeah. I’ve felt like that a lot in my life.”

“I’m sorry.” He states simply. “It’s awful.”

“Yeah,” you agree.

The rest of the night the two of you sit quietly, sipping tea and listening to music. At some point the two of you end up sleeping on one another.

The weeks pass, and Keigo starts to recover, as that starts to happen, the two of you start to slip back into your previous relationship. You know it’s a mistake, but you don’t stop it. You almost encourage it, because it feels good. It feels like he actually wants you and you can believe it for a few moments before it comes crashing down around you. You know you’re a rebound, even if Keigo himself doesn’t realize that’s what he’s doing.

So, there he is again, using you as a way to fill his life up to make up for the something he can’t have. Coping with his issues by having someone he could distract himself with, that he trusted and knew cared about his wellbeing.

You wish you could say you hated it. But then you’d be a liar.

Because you would take any of the time that he was willing to give to you. You were in deep, and you knew that, just wished you would have a way that you could stop it, rather than just going along for the ride, and hoping that he didn’t completely destroy your heart.

Although that possibility seemed to be more and more likely these days.

One day, you realize that you can’t do this anymore.

One day, you think that you’re not going to allow yourself to do this to yourself or him anymore.

One day you decide that you have to take a full step back. No half done measures this time, the next time he called, you weren’t answering, and you weren’t listening. Maybe taking a complete break from the winged hero would somehow allow you to get over your feelings for him. Maybe the separation would do you some good, you could try and meet some new people, hang out with older friends.

You have a plan, a way to bring it up to him, to say that you can’t do the whole song and dance with him anymore, you can’t play around because it’s messing with your head. You plan on telling him that you just need some space to rest and recover, and that you’ll be fine in a little while.

It doesn’t happen that way.

You’re in his apartment and you’re both eating some takeout, you’ve been on edge the entire night, and of course Keigo notices. He tries to tell you a few happy stories he’s seen that day, tries to give you space to relax. He leans in to kiss you and you panic.

You jump up and say “I have to leave!” in a really panicked voice.

“Woah hey, what the fuck’s going on?” He stands up, walking after you.

“I just, I had a way to tell you- and I’m not ready and fuck I wish I didn’t have to say this but I just can’t do it!” You’re rambling, you know that, but you can’t seem to get your thoughts together, they’re bouncing around your head, refusing to slow down so you can’t catch them, and you’re sitting there panicking.

“You need to talk to me,” he shouts, breaking you out of your daze.

“I can’t do this anymore!” you cry out, all the bottled pain spilling up and gushing out. You can’t stop it, and you keep going. “I fell for you in week three, Keigo. WEEK THREE of our arrangement. And guess what! I still fucking love you, you absolute moron! You didn’t notice SHIT, and I didn’t say anything because I knew you didn’t feel the same way, but I knew you needed someone. And sometimes I fucking wish I didn’t, that I spoke up for myself and said something sooner because it’s brought me nothing but heartbreak after heartbreak, and so much insecurity!”

He looks at you shocked. “Wait… you, but?”

You laugh, a little hysterically, all the emotions bubbling over. There’s a strange sense of relief. It’s all out in the open now. “Fucking tell the press! I finally found the way to make the Hawks absolutely speechless!”

“Wait, hold up, you need to slow down. I’m trying to understand what’s going on, and you aren’t exactly making this easier.” His eyes are wide, you’ve never seen him so completely and utterly lost. That was the final straw for you, and you start sobbing, tears streaming down your face as you try to keep your wails of pain inside.

You put yourself together in silence, his sharp eyes trained on you, you can feel it. Your sobs and sniffles grow less and less frequent as you gain control.

“I need space Keigo. I need to have space so I can get over you properly, and I couldn’t do it before, I thought I could! I just need to sort everything out, please.” You’re pleading with him, your voice drained and emotionless. “Just, don’t contact me please. Let me” You walk away before he can even answer, leaving him dumbfounded.

He grabs your arm before you reach the door, a little rougher than he usually is. “You don’t get to say all these things without even giving me a chance to respond!” His usually calm exterior is flustered, a little unhinged with panic and anger.

“I can! I told you how I feel! Nothing you say will be able to change how I feel right now Keigo! Nothing!” you feel your heart ripping to shreds as you see, for the first time in your one on one time in months, the mask returning as he looks it over too.

“Got it.” He says short and clipped off. “Thanks for just cutting me off like everyone else did. Get the fuck out of my apartment.”

You go, quietly, unable to look him in the eye. The door slams behind you, with an ominous thud.

The first time you gather up the courage to call him again to apologize, he doesn’t pick up. You expected that. You were hoping for that because you weren’t sure if you had the strength to say it to him.

You tell him you’re sorry. You tell him you know you made mistakes, that you knew you didn’t communicate right and you should’ve trusted him with that. You tell him you miss him because you do. He’d wormed his way into the cracks in your heart that he’d had a part in making.

You tell him you want to have a place in his life, and that he still has a place in yours, but you’re not ready yet.

You don’t know if he got it until he calls you back. He leaves a message for you this time as you were in the shower when it rang.

He tells you he understands now, even though it hurt like hell. He says he’s going to give you space, but would still leave you messages every once in a while. He says that of course you’re going to have a place in his life. He says that you’re the only person in a long time that had even bothered to get to see what was underneath his persona. He says that when you’re ready, to either call him back, or answer one of his calls.

So that’s how it happens. On some good days and some bad days, Keigo calls you. You listen to every single one, multiple times. Your feelings don’t die down though. You don’t know what else you can do but wait. The sad messages tear at your heart, but you know you can’t be there for him right now properly.

One of them you can’t help but hear and think that you need to call him, need to reach out to him. He’d sounded desperate in a way you hadn’t heard from him before and it chilled you down to the bone.

But you don’t. You’re too scared of what you’ll do or say.

On one of the days where you can’t sleep, you sit and stare at your ceiling, thinking about nothing much. Idle thoughts about the project you were working on, what you had to stock up on the next time you went shopping, the puzzle that you’d gotten stuck on in the current level of your video game.

That’s when the ringing broke out on your bedside table. That ringtone. You still loved him, and he never called this late. You picked up the phone.

“It’s two am, I know that, but I need you Y/N…”

“Hawks? What’s going on. Are you ok?”

He laughs loudly, “Fuck, no. Can I come over?” He almost manages to hide the waver in his voice.

You sigh, putting a hand to your temple. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come to me anymore, you know that.” You say it softly.

“You picked up.”

“I did.”

“You still love me.”

“Goddamn it Keigo, yes! Is that what you really wanted to hear right now at two in the morning?”

His tone switches to serious. “No. That’s not it at all. Please. It’s important.”

“I could just hang up.”

“You won’t.”

You let out a stream of curses that would make a sailor blush.

“Fine.” You give in with a groan and the starting of a stress headache. “I’m leaving the door unlocked for 10 minutes. That’s all you have.”

“That’s way more than I need.” You hear the click of the receiver tone and you move your ass out of bed, going to go unlock the door. There you wait in your pjs, your arms crossed glaring at the door and daring it to open.

Before the 10 minutes is up, it defies you and clicks open, and in he comes.

“Hey.” He just looks at you, and he looks exhausted. “Thanks for listening.”

You resist the urge to just run up to him and take him into your arms. He’d feel so good to cuddle. Instead you say in a wary voice; “What do you want Keigo, it’s late and I’m tired.”

“I know,” he whispers. “I am too, but.” He swallows hard. “I needed to see you before. Before everything gets fucked up.”

“What the hell are you talking about? And close the door it’s cold outside.” He follows your instructions without complaint and quietly.

“You’re going to want to be sitting down for this,” he warns.

You can see he’s not playing around, so you heed him and sit on the couch, and he sits on the chair, dragging it over so he’s opposite you.

“First off. An explanation of what I mean.” You gesture at him to carry on. “Remember those villains I had to check up on? Well, they were actually mobilizing an attack on the Hero Commission HQ which is in the city.”

“No way, seriously?” you can’t believe that they would get that bold so soon. It was insane, and yet, you believed it.

“Well yeah. I came by to warn you, because there’s going to be so much chaos, and in that chaos, it’s more likely for you to either die or get hurt.” Your hands found their way to your hair, brushing through it nervously. “Hey, hey, listen Y/N” he goes to hold your shoulder’s and looks you in the eye. “The heroes have been preparing for a few months now, taking out some of the villains they can. Everyone’s going to have a much better chance of survival. But staying inside and not opening to door for anyone? That’s going to keep you safest. Understand?” You nod.

Something niggled at the back of your mind though. “You said first thing.”

“Yeah…”

“Well? Are you going to tell me?”

“You’re going to slap me.”

“Well that’s not a fucking good sign.”

He rubs the back of his neck. “Well, I figured out why you’d shocked me so much with what you’d said. When we went our separate ways for a little while.”

You felt your stomach sink. This couldn’t be good, why did he have to bring that up now. “Yeah?”

“I didn’t trust my partner with anything that I’d shown you. You were the only person I’ve opened up too since… well a long time let’s put it like that. I haven’t really actually let myself feel things for a while, so I misunderstood them. I thought they were hot; I liked the look and the way they talked. I wasn’t falling love with them. I was in love with you the whole time and I didn’t realize it.” You felt like your heart stopped beating.

“Keigo?”

“Yes?”

“You didn’t think to actually say that in one of your fucking messages?”

“I didn’t think you were ready to hear it.”

“I mean maybe not, but it would’ve saved a lot of headache!”

“I’m sorry.” He says, “I’m learning, but I’m trying my best if you’ll take me?”

“Of course, I will you stupid bird. It’s going to take work, but I know where I went wrong.”

“Me too. I believe in us. Heh, us. I like the sound of that.” He has a goofy smile on his face.

“Oh my god you’re such a dork.” You lean up to press a light kiss on his lips, which he eagerly responds too. “You look exhausted though. Let’s get you into bed, so you can protect the city hero.”

“Sounds amazing to me.” He follows you into the room, stripping down and snuggling you.

“I’m likely going to be gone by the time you wake up, y’know?”

You sigh. “You better not die on me or I’ll kill you.”

“For you? I’ll stay as safe as possible.”

“Good.”

The next day, everything was in chaos, just like Keigo had said it would be. You didn’t even need to leave your house to know that. You saw it on your phone screen as you stayed hidden in your closet, to terrified to move or do anything else. A couple buildings had fallen near you, but luckily your building had stayed safe.

You don’t remember much else about that day. Fear. Praying that the people you cared about would be safe. Darkness. The sounds of massive explosions and destruction.

Terrible.

There were massive body counts of all different people, with varying quirks, lives, beliefs and goals. The damage was catastrophic. You almost couldn’t believe that it had been better than what would’ve happened if there wasn’t early intel and missions.

You noticed though, that everyone was treated the same in death. Hero, civilian, villain, vigilante, all of them were buried properly, paid for by the Commission themselves. Some of the villains had escaped, there were lots more dead hero students than people wanted to admit, and everyone was more beaten down and broken than before.

But…

Nobody had seen or heard anything about Hawks though. It was as if he’d simply vanished into thin air, and the only thing that kept you sane? They hadn’t found his body.

What about that cremation guy? The traitorous voice in your head spoke out. You told it to fuck off.

Hawks, Keigo, was not dead. He couldn’t be. You’d finally reached an understanding!

You refused to allow the possibility in your mind.

It was a week later when you finally got some news. There was a call from the hospital, and you immediately, you picked up.

“Is this Y/N Y/LN?”

“Yes,” you practically shout. “Yes, I am.” You say a bit softer.

“I’m calling about a Keigo Takami? Do you know this man?”

“Yes, yes, I do, please is he alive?” you can’t keep the desperation from your voice.

There’s a pause. “…Yes. He is alive. They’re trying to test to see what the extent of the damage is. You were the only other person other than his mother to be on his emergency contact list, yet you have no relation to him, were you aware of this?”

“Yes,” the lie comes easily, despite the surprise bubbling up.

He gives you the address and you promise to be there as soon as you can. You can deal with this, you think, he’s alive and so the two of you can work on it and fix it together like you’d planned.

Except you couldn’t.

Little to no brain function, they said. Halfway done the process to become a host body for a new nomu, they said. How were you supposed to fix everything together if Keigo was right there, but also completely gone?

You collapsed into the chair beside his bed, looking over at him. The man you’d loved for over half a year. The doctors went silent, all of them leaving except for one, who stood silently. You reached out and held his hand in yours. Still softer and smoother than what a pro hero’s hand should be like. Still warm, like the first time you’d held it. You could even feel his pulse.

It was almost funny; you were finished before the two of you even got started. You couldn’t even say that the two of you had ever truly been together, but that’s what made it hurt more, you think. Nobody would believe you, a random nobody? Dating the number two pro hero? Yeah what an attention whore.

You sat there, tears building in your eyes, and spilling out

“Keigo, please just give me one more message?” you whisper, crying harder now. “I’ll be waiting for it, so you better call me when you’re ready, because I’ll be waiting for you.”

#bnha x reader #hawks x reader #jays writes #angst #sfw

720 notes · View notes

rawsanma · 3 years ago

Text

In Memoriam of "Shin Evangelion: Curse"

*The following article contains a full spoiler for "Evangelion 3.0+1.0".*

I sat together with a person who was not in birth when EOE was released, and after watching the film we talked a bit and thought about the people who passed away without ever seeing this. I understand that fans from the old series and those who came from the new series may have very different perceptions of Shin-Eva. So I'd like to first correct a few things I said in my first impressions.

It may be somewhere between an honorable movie and a mediocre movie in general, but as Evangelion, it's garbage.

After about halfway through the two hours and thirty-five minutes, I started to look at my watch again and again. The double ending, which is both a personal novel and a product, was a fleeting fantasy, and the two songs "One Last Kiss" and "beautiful world (da capo ver.)" were not used effectively in relation to the story, only being played in the staff roll.

When I saw the first 10 minutes of the movie that was released last year, I thought that perhaps Paris was chosen as the setting for the story of "humanity fighting together in the face of destruction" or "the expansion of the Eva world (not G Gundam, but G Eva!)", but that was not the case at all. He just wanted to depict the battle using the Eiffel Tower as a FATALITY,　I realized that he hadn't made a single millimeter of progress since when he asked Hayao Miyazaki if I could film only this action scene of Her Highness Kushana in the re-animation of Nausicaa, he was scolded, "That's why you're no good!"

At the beginning of the film, they try to carefully describe the things behind the scenes that were not told in Eva Q. The third Ayanami like the TV version is the main character, and they go on and on about living in the countryside, copying "My Neighbor Totoro". The large family of our parent's home that we go back to during the summer vacation is presented as an image of happiness in life and a decent human being. It is also connected to Gendou's narrative during the Human Instrumentality Project but isn't it too Showa-era and too simple a solution? I am interested in how the young fans who are children of nuclear families who left their large families in the countryside and moved to the city saw the too sudden depiction of "life in the countryside". It was almost a gag to see Ayanami walking around in a plug suit which is a sexual orientation that has manifested itself after Space Battleship Yamato, in the images of pre and post-war farming villages depicted by recent NHK morning dramas. The director, influenced by his wife, must have been immersed in the LOHAS and vegan lifestyle as a fashion statement, which is only possible because he is an urbanite with too much stuff and too much money. As for this theme, it has already been presented in the watermelon field scene in the second film, and it is merely a re-presentation of the same theme in a diluted form.

I've pointed out before that Eva Q is "a crack in reality because of the loss of reality to rely on. "It's rude not to eat what you're served!", Shinji was scolded by Touji's father, who looked like a subversion of Hayao Miyazaki's work (Gedo Senki!). I have a simple question, how can the interior of a house become so old and wretched after only 14 years? How can a community of people of all ages be formed in just 14 years?　There was a line that implied that Touji had killed someone for the village, and it is possible that the director had extremely beautified the "Showa era" as a sanctuary where people who are hurt and regret their committing murder during the war as a soldier live nearby, and when he opened the last drawer after using up all the materials, he found the image of the original landscape of his childhood.

Misato and Kaji's child, which is only described for a few minutes, is also abrupt, and I don't feel that it is more than a plot device for the purpose of staging the reconciliation with Shinji later on. Some people seem to be moved by the fact that "behind Misato's cold attitude towards Shinji in Q, there was such a conflict in her mind," but it's the opposite. All the answers are just excuses after wasting nine years of work. Even if the wounds healed and treated with a gentle "I'm sorry," after being beaten severely by a raging DV husband, the fact of the beating would not disappear, and the wife would feel nothing but fear at the sudden change in her husband. To a situation that he had set to minus 100, he spent 2 hours and 35 minutes gradually pouring water drawn from other places and past works to bring it back to zero...I've never seen such a horrible match pump. Well, now that I'm writing this, I'm thinking that I've seen this before.

The relationship between Eva Q and Shin Eva is very similar to the relationship between "The Last Jedi" and "The rise of Skywalker" in Star Wars. In a self-absorbed rampage of conjecture that did not listen to the opinions of others, the historical stage of the series that had been built up was turned into a mess, and then the destroyed story was carefully built up again from the ground using unnecessary length, and only the shape of the story was created to end it without being disgraceful, and every scene that tries to make things more exciting is a copy of past work. As for Star Wars, since 8 and 9 were directed by different directors, I was able to settle my feelings of resentment towards Ryan and gratitude towards Abrams, respectively, but as for Evangelion, the director looks like a child who has been proud to clean up his own mess and have his female cronies praise and pat him on the head. Moreover, what kind of sympathy do you expect when you are told to "I'll make amends" for the mere act of wiping your ass after defecating, in a cool, Showa-era chivalrous tone?

In this film, as a recovery from Q and a summary of new Eva, there are elements throughout the story that critics can easily relate to the old Eva. “Oh, I can talk about this in connection with that!” This is what gives them a good impression and it has nothing to do with how the old fans perceive it. The director seems to have a dedicated person in charge of communicating and negotiating with the outside, but now he wants the critics to communicate with the fans about Shin-Eva. As long as he doesn't speak for himself, he can correct their interpretations later based on the "misunderstandings" of the people in between himself and his fans. This is a very Japanese-style system of surmising feelings, a system of authority that is formed when only a limited number of cronies are informed of the true intentions of the president. If I talk about it in too much detail, right-winged Yakuza will show up very soon, so to make it short, it is an indigenous control structure unique to Japan that originated from the "Mikado behind the bamboo blind". This time the director was very conscious of that, and I was able to see that Eva, who was a challenger, has become an authority that does not tolerate any criticism.

And what fan from the past could enjoy watching the endless battle scenes after Shinji returns to Wunder in the middle of the film? One after another, the sister ships of Wunder appear--there's almost no difference in appearance, but Ritsuko is able to guess their names the moment they appear. Right after the line "I'm pretty sure there's a fourth ship," the fourth ship comes crashing upon them from underneath, with no intention other than to make us laugh, right? As well as the repeated tenseless bombardment fight with no description of damage no matter how many artillery shells are hit, and it's quite painful being poured Asuka and Mari's Me-Strong Battles which are already enough by the time of Q, continuously down my throat like a goose with a funnel in its mouth. There's no way to synchronize my feelings with the screen, and it just creates an atmosphere as if the story is going on with the unattractive super-robot action that I pointed out in Q. It's no use pointing out, but the repair and supply problems of Wille side in a world where the industry has been destroyed were shown in the farming village part, though it was inadequate. But those of NERV side, an organization of only a man and an old man, was completely thrown away.

The last part of the story about the Human Instrumentality Project is like a fanzine where Gendou, Asuka, Kaworu, and Rei are lined up in a row and complemented in turn and then dismissed, whereas EOE was a total complement through Shinji. The director has tried to upgrade his framework by borrowing them from EOE and has failed miserably. Someone who has created works by putting his emotion and flair into a copy has dabbled in copying his own work. As a result, he had to confront his own sensibilities from when he was young and had to compare the old and the new by his old audience. Frankly speaking, only the techniques have been traced, the sound and the screen have become gorgeous, but the emotion and the sense have deteriorated. The face of the giant Ayanami that was replaced with a live-action one -- probably based on the face acting of Shinji's voice actor, and the "untested ordeal" of her tweet means this -- appears in the background like a gold folding screen in the high sand at a Japanese wedding reception. You're getting tired of all this, and you're not making it seriously, are you? The battle between Eva Unit01 and Eva Unit13 in Tokyo-III, which I expressed my anxiety about before the film's release, is a scene where the company's CG team can't produce what the director expects and he is so frustrated that he has the same mindset as in the final two episodes of the TV version, "I'd rather get a minus than a red", and after that, it became like a gag scene, including Eva fights in Misato's apartment and Shinji's school classroom, as if he was staged them in desperation. The side-shooting screenshot of the little Wunder charging at the head of the giant Ayanami is a picture of ”Cho Aniki (Japanese STG)” itself, and it's also meant to be funny, right? It's a series of loose, sloppy, and tenseless scenes that can't be compared to EOE.

What the hell have the CG team been doing for the past nine years, getting paid with no progress and making Eva look like an outdated piece of crap? Didn't anyone have the chivalrous spirit of the Showa era like "Don't embarrass our boss!"? Don't be so relieved when you get the green light! The director has just given up on you! There were a few scenes where the person at the top of the editing and collage, who has been making the coolest pictures, was not given as much good material as he used to be and seemed to make desperate staging in a way that he would never have given the green light in the past. It's been more than 10 years since Xapa was established, but I guess they don't have enough talent to meet the director's vision. Perhaps because of this, the conclusion of the film is exactly the same as the old one, that the director has no choice but to use his personal feelings to finish Eva, but the film ends up being a self-imitation of "Sincerely Yours". It is sad to see a person who "surpasses the original by putting his heart and soul into the copy" start to copy his own past works on the big screen of the theater, because he has become a big name in the animation world after reaching the age of 60, and there are no others left to be copied. However, right after "Komm, süsser Tod" started playing in the old movie, the scene where the titles of each episode and the reverse side of Cels were played in succession was projected on the wall of the studio using a projector -- the title of the new movie was added. It made me mad and thought, "Don't touch my EOE with the dirty hands of the merchant. I'll kill you."

The last things that the man who "transfers his own life onto films" presented in his costly self-published private novel were a naked confession of his own mental history up to the point where he met his wife, which he temporarily entrusted to Gendou, and the words "I think I loved you" and "I loved you" exchanged between himself and the former lover who could not be together and themselves who had separate spouses, just a reckoning of the muddled love affair that existed behind the scenes of EOE. I half-jokingly said that the distance between the director and Asuka's voice actor was important for the end of Eva, but it turned out to be true in a different way. During the recording session, Asuka's voice actor was told by the director, "I'm glad Miyamura is Asuka," which sent chills down my spine as it conveyed the horror of a creator who doesn't hide everything about his life and relationships and uses them to create his works.

In the scene where Shinji says "I liked you too" to the adult Asuka, who is wearing a tight latex suit and drawn in a more realistic character design (making us aware of the cosplay by Asuka's voice actor), while she is lying on the EOE beach, I thought "You guys should do this in a coffee shop or something between recording sessions! Don't make us watch middle-aged man and woman having unpleasant conversations on the big screen of the theater!", I almost screamed out. I think that's the scary part, the director's one-sided love for Asuka's voice actor is falsified by having the character say that she liked him, as if it was a mutual love. The director's statement at the beginning of the pamphlet says that he started working on the sequel right after Evangelion 2.0 without hesitation, using the worldview of "Q". I'm not trying to quote the line "You can change the reality you don't like by getting on Eva.", but it's not as if he's trying to cover up the fact, but he really believes that using his strong imagery, and it made me feel a bit chilly that there was no one around to correct his misconceptions.

At the end of Human Instrumentality Project, I wondered if the fact that a senior member of the movie industry had praised the shooting of EOE by flipping Cels over as a "tremendous deconstruction" was still fresh in his mind. This time, too, it was postponed after postponement, and even though the makings have been done in time, he showed the other side of the production with line drawings and roughs. The reason it was so innovative was that it was the first time anyone had tried it then, and now, 25 years later, it's just a rut. It's disgusting that everyone is praising the master's strange drawing habit and saying, "Oh yeah, that's it, that's it." As I've said before, it's like "defecating in a sixty-nine," which was successful because the first partner happened to be a scatologist. The expression of EOE was sharp and ”Rock’n’‐roll”, but Shin-Eva's "fun of anime images" has gone into the realm of traditional art, like slow "Gagaku".

The director hadn't decided who Mari Makinami was for a long time -- he was so indifferent to her that he threw the actor's acting plan to a sub-director -- but with Shin-Eva, he's changed her into an equal to Moyoco Anno, his wife. In other words, the flashy battle in the middle of the film, which is unimportant to many viewers, is revealed to have been a very pleasant pretend play for the director, in which he has his former love and his current wife fight on his favorite robots. Once again, we are shown the director's so-what-attitude, which has not progressed even a millimeter since "I'm an asshole," and which he can complete his work only by masturbation. So it's no wonder that they couldn't depict the extremely simple catharsis of Shinji's great success with Eva Unit01, which is what most of the old fans want. Because a robot with a pathetic old man on board can't get an erection due to impotence, let alone masturbation!　Oops, excuse me, sir.

And as I said before, it's time to realize that the English language has become so popular in Japan that it's become lame. You use Infinity, Another, Additional, Advanced, Commodity, and Imaginary, just because it sounds cool to you, right?　Everyone criticized the naming "Final Impact", but I never thought I'd see the time when I'd faint from the lack of taste and coolness in Evangelion, such as Another Impact, Additional Impact.

And the ending, with the wedding report in a live-action aerial shot of the director's hometown, newbie fans are screaming that it is like, "They're doing a very positive version of the old "Return to Reality!". But I felt it was too empty and cynical because it was intended to be read that way by the director. It depicts only the elation of marriage, and the pain of getting along with a partner and his or her family with different values is cut off (well, maybe Q was expressing the hardship of married life......). But isn't the emotional weight of a marriage report much higher when you meet your partner's parents?　The fact that he ended the movie by showing his own hometown instead of his wife's hometown leaves me with the impression that he's definitively an egotistical geek through and through. "You may have graduated from a good university and are making good money in the city, but if you're not married and don't have children, aren't you somehow humanly flawed?" After 25 years, Evangelion, which was such a forward-thinking Sci-Fi, is now completely in sync with the earthly ethics of Showa-era's farmers and farm horses. "I got married and it saved my life. I don't know about you, but why don't you try?" You can think what you want, but if you want to convey it as a message of salvation, you have to express it in the content of your work, not in your own talk.

I've been married for 20 years, I have two children, both of whom are about to reach the age of adulthood, I've paid off the mortgage on my home, and I'm finally at the end of raising my children, but all of that is just an outer shell of a social skin that has nothing to do with my true nature or where my soul is! There's no connection between what kind of life an individual lives in the real world and the Sci-Fi sense of wonder, in fact, there shouldn't be any connection! If you're a science fiction fan, take a page from the great Arthur C. Clarke! I was a nerd with a negative value of 100, but when I got married, I gradually poured the "common-sense values" of the Showa era into myself, and now I'm a true man with no negative value? Don't write such pathetic fiction proudly! Listen, what you presented to the audience at the end was the same thing that someone would say to you, "You seedless stallion!" It's the same kind of unethical and vulgar message that you shouldn't be giving! The old Eva became a classic of Japanimation, and no one was able to properly scold you, or you keep away those who tried, and the result of this is directly reflected in the ending of Shin Eva!　You've reached your 60th birthday and you only have such poor social common sense, damn it!

I'm sorry, I was so excited that I lost my control a little bit, just a little bit. I think the director is relying a little too much on his wife, who is ultimately a stranger on, to be his laison d'etre (lol). If they were to break up in the future, it would certainly be the soil for the next Eva, the content and development of which is completely predictable, but that is no longer my concern. I wonder if his wife doesn't like the fact that he's mentally dependent on her like this, and that it's being shown on screens all over the country. If it were me, I'd be furious, but since she's a creator, I guess she understands how he feels. Ignoring the other person's feelings and continuing to force what he believes to be love on her, thinking that it will make her happy, seems to me that there has been no progress at all since the way he treated his girlfriend 25 years ago. The person I want to hear from the most right now is not the self-proclaimed Eva fans who are looking at each other from the side and giving positive feedback in celebration of the final episode, but his wife. If the director had a child, he would not have been able to distinguish between his own ego and that of the child, and would have doted on his child, making a documentary film about his or her growth, but would most likely have turned into a controlling and poisonous parent in his or her adolescence. And he animated his feelings for his child who was rebelling against him, without the child's permission, considering it as a one-sided redemption for the child, and the child who was exposed to the whole country about their home life would have distanced from his father more and more.

In the end, Evangelion did not become a product like Gundam, but rather a robot animation that was the director's weird personal novel. The repeated use of the word "job" in the film has stuck in my mind, but in order for the studio to survive, it had to make Evangelion a product in this new series, and I'm sure that was the initial motivation behind the production of these new films. Your real "job" was to make Evangelion the same as Gundam, to protect the people who came to you because they loved Evangelion. Years from now, I can see a future where Xapa will be like Ghibli, behead the staff and continue as a copyright management company. The director, who didn't want to be embarrassed as a creator by a new challenge adopted the safe way -- I can't believe that I have to use the word "safe" for Evangelion -- to end the new series that relied on EOE only for himself, not for the future of the people who came to admire him. That's what Shin Evangelion is all about.

The good part? The fact that he didn't bring Shin Ultraman trailer at the end of the film makes me think he has grown up a bit. If you're declaring "Farewell, All Evangelions" with the intention of hurting, disappointing, and disinterested old fans like me, then your malice is unfathomable, and that's quite a feat. Brilliantly, your intentions have permanently killed a part of me that used to be an Eva fan.

As horrifying as it is to imagine, it must have crossed the director's mind to reschedule the film and set a new release date for March 11. The only reason he didn't do so is not that he has grown up to be a sensible adult, but rather because the idea of linking Evangelion 3.0 with the Great East Japan Earthquake was a fact that is too painful for him to make it public.

Ten years ago today, many lives were lost and Evangelion was destroyed.

This fact will never disappear, no matter how much the director denies and covers up with the "true" history. If there is any mission left for me as a fan, it is to continue to pass on this fact to future generations as a storyteller. It is a huge loss for Japanese fiction that the end of the great Evangelion has become a self-recovery work of the great failure of the reboot affected by the Great East Japan Earthquake, and that the potential of the great Evangelion has been consumed by the self-defense of someone who cannot admit his own mistakes, and I sincerely regret it. Shin Evangelion will be forever cursed by the dead, who yearn to see the sequel of Evangelion 2.0, and the living, who yearn to see the sequel of Evangelion 2.0.

This curse will be completed when it spreads, arrives, and is burned by the powers that be as a false history. I pray that my thoughts will reach him!

#evangelion 3.0+1.0

4 notes · View notes

softyoongiionly · 5 years ago

Text

Fear and Dumplings: Chapter Fourteen

(GIF isn’t mine)

Confronting your fears for a final grade sounds unappealing but, with Yoongi as your partner, things might not be so bad.

Summary: You’re in your final semester at University when your Abnormal Psychology professor assigns you a partnered project surrounding your greatest fears. Lucky for you, your partner just so happens to be a cute boy named Min Yoongi.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Underground Rapper! Yoongi, Soft!!! Yoongi, Fluff!!!, some moderate angst (later), smut (later later), slow-ish? burn.

Word Count: 10.3k (lol, i wanna die)

A/N: please scream along with me as I drown in a pile of emotion. I’m sorry the last three chapters have been so emotional, yoongi is a complicated boi and, needs roughly 25k to get out all of his feelings. ALSO, the next chapter will finally feature Jimin’s showcase, please send him love and good luck. Not like he needs it lmao

I LOVE YOU

Warnings for this Chapter: moderate angst, SMUT (oh my god its alot), mentions of anxiety and hardship, language, too many feelings.

Warnings for the Fic: mentions characters confronting their fears, characters in uncomfortable situations, emotional moments between characters, mentions of bad parenting, explicit language throughout the fic, moderate angst, and very explicit smut later in the story.

Chapter 14: Angels and Angels

“Jimin, if you move again, I’m going to shove this needle into your perfectly sculpted butt cheek…” You mutter, pinching Jimin’s ass, the sweat on your brow growing significantly.

This causes a giggle to erupt from your best friend, who is currently contorting his body so that he can stare at himself in the mirror.

“Yah! Do you miss your little boyfriend that much that you have to take your sexual frustration out on me?” Jimin wiggles his ass in your face and, you admonish him with a smack to his hip as you try your best to finish sewing his costume.

Jimin called you that morning in a panic after he had ripped his showcase outfit during rehearsal so, you had quickly rushed over after your morning classes to resolve his crisis.

“He’s not my boyfriend…” You counter, a smile threatening your mouth, “I do miss him though…”

Jimin stalls his movements, allowing you to finish up, “You really like him don’t you?”

The smile comes in full force but, thankfully Jimin is facing away from you when it does.

“Maybe…”

He rolls his eyes but, allows your vague response, turning slightly to examine your handy work, “You should invite him tomorrow, I still haven’t met him…”

There is a flutter in your stomach at Jimin’s suggestion. You know that Jimin gets extra credit for the number of people that attend and, having Yoongi there would fill an extra seat.

All the more reason to invite him…

“I mean, it’s a big night for you Minnie, if you’re ok with him being there then, I’ll see if he’s free.” You attempt to keep your tone casual but, you’re slightly nervous at the thought of Yoongi being there as your date.

Professor James cancelled Tuesday’s lecture due to illness and, Yoongi texted you Thursday morning that he wouldn’t be in class that day. Not seeing him for an entire week didn’t exactly sit well with you but, you were determined to not read too much into his absence.

Jimin smirks, smoothing his hands over his hips, head tilting side to side in the mirror, “It’s my fourth showcase Y/N, it’s not that big of a deal…”

A scoff leaves your lips, “Um??? It’s your senior showcase, you’re the reigning champion and, you’re about to make history as the only collegiate dancer to win the showcase four years in a row; of course it’s a big deal!”

He giggles as you shove him playfully, a bit of nervousness creeping into his gaze, “You really think I’m going to win again?”

“Jimin,” You turn him towards you, holding each of his wrists in your hands, “I know you’re going to win again.”

His beautiful smile graces his lips as he thrusts himself in your arms, the white sequins scratching against your skin. You hold him anyway though, you know he needs it.

“Thank you…” He mumbles into your hair, “I don’t know what I’d do without you…”

You smile into his neck, the warmth of Jimin’s words filling your heart, “Oh Jimin….I don’t know what you’d do either…”

He pinches your side, “YAH! Don’t be mean! I would survive…maybe…”

Squirming out of his hold, you giggle, patting his hip gently, “I don’t know what I’d do without you either Park Fairy. I’d probably die…”

He points at you,” Exactly, don’t be a brat…” His tone his firm but, the smile on his lips is hard to miss. Jimin turns his attention back towards his full length mirror again to examine his costume.

It’s a beautiful piece, skintight, covered in white sequins and, thin pearlescent lycra that hug Jimin’s body perfectly. You wondered if this was his entire costume as Jimin was known for quite an elaborate set up.

“I love this costume by the way, it’s beautiful,” You marvel, putting all of your sewing tools back in their box, “Is the theme still a surprise or can you end my suffering and tell me?”

Jimin smirks, eyes carefully scanning over his backside,” It’s still a surprise, my leotard is only the base piece, I have a lot more in store…”

“RIP my mascara…” You lament, snapping your sewing kit shut before grabbing your phone off of the coffee table, “Should I text him now?”

He giggles, amusement coloring his face as he turns to you, “Why do you look so nervous?”

“I’m not nervous.” You grumble, thumbs tapping away at your screen to get to your message thread with the dreamiest rapper on Earth aka Min Yoongi.

The last message that you sent him was wishing him luck on the rest of his composition, which he has been working tirelessly at for the last half of the semester. He only responded with a thumbs up emoji and, that was yesterday at 7:49pm.

Suddenly, as your fingers hover over the keys, you feel slightly insecure at the lack of communication between the two of you. Last weekend had been amazing and, Yoongi made sure that you arrived back at your apartment safely and during the week he had said something to the effect of ‘I miss you’ without actually saying it.

Jimin notices your hesitation, “What’s wrong?”

Your teeth find purchase on your lip but, you avoid his gaze and focus in on your phone.

“Nothing…I just_” A sigh leaves your lips as you tap the screen to keep it from going black, “ I don’t know… Yoongi and I had a really good time last weekend and, I’m used to not really hearing from him but, I kind of thought after everything that happened between us, there would be a little more communication. I don’t expect him to text me all day or anything but, we both agreed that we liked each other….a lot so, I thought he’d…”

“Act like a boyfriend?” Jimin offers, a bit of his playfulness diminishing, focusing in on your emotions.

The word sends butterflies through your stomach but, you shove them out, trying not to drown in your emotions.

“No…I mean yeah but, like we aren’t together yet so, I can’t expect him to…I don’t know…” Articulating your emotions is not always your strong suit and, for whatever reason, you seem to become especially impaired when Yoongi is involved.

“Jagi…” Jimin begins, sitting beside you, the sequins scratching your skin as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “…you’re allowed to want his attention regardless of whether or not you both have a title. Titles are nice but, the feelings are much more important…”

You deflate a little bit, leaning into Jimin, your teeth still working against your lip, “I really like him…like I want to wake up next to him and, make him breakfast and do cute shit with him and, I’m not used to feeling like this and, I want to crawl into a hole and, never come out…”

Your pink fairy giggles, pressing a kiss to your head “Yah, you’re not allowed to crawl into a hole, my showcase is tomorrow…”

“Can I do it after your showcase?” You mutter against his leotard, your thumb tapping your screen again to ensure that it doesn’t go black.

Jimin scoffs, “I literally just told you that I can’t live without you, do you want me to die?”

His brows are raised in playful accusation and, you try your best not to get to distracted by how adorable he is.

“No...” You grumble, lips fixed in a firm pout

He chuckles now, nudging your hand towards your phone, “Okay then, text him.”

With a roll of your eyes, you unlock your phone for the third time and, begin typing your message.

You: Hey, I’m not sure what you’re up to tomorrow, I know you’ve been working on your composition but, my best friend is performing in a dance showcase in the main theater. Do you want to come? I figured we could carpool and, maybe get dinner afterwards or something? Let me know when you get a chance!

By the end of your message, you feel your heart doing somersaults beneath your sternum. Why the hell were you so nervous? Shouldn’t you be passed this by now?

“See? I knew you could do it...” Jimin cheers, kissing your head once more before moving to carefully take off his costume.

“Yes, now I just have to endure a slow painful death while waiting for him to respond...” A sickly sweet smile is on your mouth which causes Jimin to throw his head back in laughter.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the dramatic one in this friendship?”

“No Jimin, you’re the beautiful and talented main character and, I...”You gesture to your chest, “...am your socially inept, quirky side kick...”

This earns another boisterous round of laughter from your best friend who is currently checking out his nearly naked body in the mirror.

“Okay, first of all, thank you for calling me beautiful. Second of all, you’re can’t possibly be the sidekick...”

Your eyes narrow, “Why not?”

Jimin whips around in your direction, bubblegum hair a disheveled mess ontop of his head, a brilliant smile on his pretty lips,

“Because you’re my hero...”

With a mouth parted in shock, you process just how ridiculous your best friend is. At your expression,

Jimin rushed into another fit of laughter as you respond.

“Alexa, play Hate That I Love You by Rihanna...”

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

After Jimin leaves, you wait approximately 5 hours before getting a response from Yoongi. The response does nothing to aid in soothing your nerves:

Yoongi: Hey sorry it took me so long to respond. I’ve been working, I think I may be able to go but, I was wondering what you were doing right now. I’m having some trouble sorting through something, I know it’s late though, so I understand if you’re sleeping.

Your brow furrows. His message seems odd but, you don’t want to pass up an opportunity to see him. Plus, you definitely wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that he’s having an issue.

You: I can come by, what’s the address? Are you ok?

5 more minutes pass before another message comes in,

Yoongi: I just want to hang out, this week has been kind of rough.

Yoongi: 8294 Han Road. I’m in the 4th studio space. Just ring the front and, tell them you’re here for me, they should let you through. Sorry it’s so late.

You frown at his admission, wanting nothing more than to be with him now that you know your suspicion is correct.

You: Don’t be sorry, I’ll be there as soon as I can.

His message comes through within seconds and, you can’t help but feel a little nervous at seeing him in his studio. There’s also this feeling; a feeling that indicates that something is wrong. Yoongi has never asked you to come see him and, that paired with his odd behavior this past week has your stomach in knots.

What if he didn’t want to see you anymore?

You both agreed that you liked eachother but, life was busy for the both of you. The conversation on the Ferris wheel inches its way back to the forefront of your mind. Yoongi said that you two getting together would be a bad idea, was he returning to that conclusion?

He never explained why he felt that way in the first place.

The Uber ride to Yoongi’s studio costs you $9.78. You didn’t realize how close he was to your apartment and, as the car pulls up to the faded brick building, you feel your heartbeat grow to an alarming level.

“Thank you, have a good night…”

“No problem, have a good one.”

The exchange with the driver is short and, given that he didn’t talk to you the entire car ride, you decide to rate him 5 stars.

As you approach the front entrance, you notice the soft blue neon sign hanging off of the door that reads: SoundCrowd.

Clever.

You’re definitely in the right place.

The door swings open effortlessly and, you’re met with an empty lobby. Tables, chairs and, various flyers containing the studios information are the only things that greet you when you walk in. The clear glass that separates the lobby from the reception desk make the whole place feel like some sort of medical clinic; it’s not exactly a beacon of creative energy. You hope Yoongi’s studio space was less clinical.

“Can I help you?” A deep but, friendly voice calls from behind the glass.

The receptionist is an older guy, maybe in his mid-30s, wearing what looks to be a ghost busters pajama set.

“Yeah, I was looking for Yoongi? He said he was in the 4th studio space…”

The man smirks knowingly, “You’re here for Min huh? Tell you what, I’ll let you through but, you have to promise me you’ll try to get him to go home. The dude’s been here for like four days straight…”

Your brow furrows, “Four days? Are you serious, he hasn’t gone home or anything?”

The man clicks his tongue, “I live upstairs, and his car’s been here since Monday. He used my shower about an hour ago but, other than that, I don’t even think he’s left the room…”

A sigh leaves your lips at the information, “Jesus.”

“Are you his girlfriend?”

The word makes your heart go fuzzy and, your first instinct is to say yes but, the last thing you need is for Yoongi to find out that you made your relationship official without him.

“Uh no, we’re just_” You trail off, searching for the right word, “we’re dating but, he’s been a friend of mine for quite a while…”

He smirks, waving you over to him, “No need to explain, I’m just happy Min is getting some sort of human interaction. He’s been a god tier introvert ever since I’ve known him. I’m Sejin by the way…”

A hand is extended through the opening in the glass and, you accept it graciously, bowing your head.

“Y/N,” You smile, “it’s really good to meet you. How long have you guys known each other?”

Sejin squints his eyes for a moment, tilting his head in thought, “Oh geez uh, let’s see, Yoongi’s 25 this year…uh…ten years maybe?”

Your brows go up, “Oh wow, are you from Daegu too?”

At your seemingly normal question, Sejin grows visibly uncomfortable, as if a realization just crossed his brain. You fear you may be asking too many questions but before you can amend, Sejin speaks up again.

“Uh, Yoongi’s never mentioned me has he?”

“No, he hasn’t, I’m sorry…” You smile looking towards the buzzer near Seijin’s hand, wishing you would have just asked him to buzz you in.

“Oh don’t be sorry at all,” A soft smile is sent your way as he sees that you may have gotten the wrong impression. Sejin nods toward the door, “Yoongi lived with me for a while when he first came to the city, I’m a friend of his older brother. I’m sure he’ll tell you more about it if you ask; Here let me buzz you in, he’ll be straight down the hall to your right.”

Confusion swirls in the forefront of your mind but, you smile nonetheless, turning towards the door, “Thank you so much, it was nice meeting you.”

He bows his head, offering a small smile, “Nice meeting you too.”

There are rooms lining either side of the long hallway, some of which emit a low hum of music through their barriers. Yoongi certainly isn’t the only night owl plugging away in the building.

Turning right at the end of the hall, you’re met with a black door boasting a sign that read “#4.” The irregular heartbeat is back as you raise your hand to knock at the door but, your desire to finally see Yoongi after nearly a week overruns the nervousness that you feel.

“Come in.” You hear his voice through the door and, quickly, you turn the knob and, let yourself in.

You’re met with a confusing sight.

The studio space was dimly lit with a low hanging turquoise fixture that sends a calming wave of light throughout the small room. The walls contain various speakers and, electrical equipment and, along with a work desk, you notice a giant monitor, nearly the size of a flat screen and, every production tool that any musician could ever dream of. However, there was also several indicators that Sejin was right about Yoongi never leaving this room. There’s a black pull out couch on the right side of the room that looks like he hasn’t been slept in, a few pieces of Yoongi’s clothes scattered on the floor and, perhaps the most disturbing thing is the overflowing trashcan in the far corner of the room containing nothing but empty coffee cups. From what you can tell, there isn't a single take out box so, that either means that Yoongi has been taking his food trash out or, that he hasn’t been eating at all.

And then there’s Yoongi, who’s just turned to look at whoever just came through his door. He’s sitting in the black desk chair, dressed in a pair of torn up black jeans and a grey hoodie, his formerly platinum hair is a faded brown now and damp from his shower. He musters a small smile for you, his normally cat like eyes are sunken in, clearly from a lack of sleep and, his lips are chapped, another indicator that he hasn’t been taking care of himself.

“Hey you…” You smile, setting your purse down by the door, trying to gauge what’s going through his mind.

“Hi…um thank you for coming…” He rasps, his eyes shifting nervously over you, fingers itching to reach out for you.

You shake your head, “Of course, is everything ok?”

Yoongi opens his mouth immediately as if he’s already has an answer prepared but, he deflates soon after, looking at you helplessly, “No, not really I-“

He takes a deep breath, looking away from you, trying to keep it together. You don’t say a word as you close the space between you, moving to stand in front of his seated figure. Instantly, you pull him into a warm hug, holding him tightly, not needing him to explain just yet.

Yoongi feels so much of the tension melt away from his body as he feels your embrace, his arms coming up to reciprocate, burying his face into your hip.

The two of you don’t speak for a few seconds but, you feel Yoongi shake silently, not daring to untuck his face from you as he lets the tears spill over his eyes.

This causes your heart to shatter but, you don’t break the silence yet, allowing him to process his pain how he needs to. You keep him close though and, rub his back soothingly as he collects himself.

“I’m sorry…” He mumbles into your yellow sweatshirt, regretting that he’s staining the material with tears, “I should have texted you more, I just…this week’s been really hard.”

You shake your head, holding him tighter, “Don’t be sorry, I knew you were working on your project this week, it’s completely ok…”

This is said for his benefit of course, you didn’t want him to worry about your fear that he had lost interest when he clearly had something much more pressing going on.

“I wanted to text you…the first night I got like this but-“ He cuts himself off to sniffle, still not releasing you from his grip. “I didn’t want to bother you, or freak you out or anything…”

“Hey-“ You tilt his face towards yours, thumbing away one of the tears that is attempting to roll down his face, “-you’re never a bother to me, especially if something is wrong…”

He turns his face to place a gentle kiss against your thumb before sighing out shakily against your skin, “I can’t get this fucking song right Y/N. I’ve been at this for 5 months now and, it always comes out wrong, I’ve rewritten it like 10 different times and, I can’t do it. It’s shitty. I’m not cut out for this, I’m not good enough to go pro, I should’ve_”

He trails off, his eyes reddening as the tears collect once more at the corners of his eyes, “ I should’ve listened to my father, he told me to major in business, he said this would happen and, he was fucking right.”

His words create a deep ache within your heart.

How could someone so talented, doubt their abilities so much?

It’s not the first time you’ve seen it but, you’ve yet to understand it.

“I know you’re upset, I know that this seems impossible right now and, you’re unbelievably frustrated but, Yoongi…” You tilt his head back towards yours, your gaze growing firmer, “You were born to do this. You are the most talented musician I’ve ever known and, the quality of your stuff? The way you write, the way you think, it’s a sign. It’s a sign that this is what you’re meant to do. You’re not meant to be in a suit, slaving away at a corporate job you don’t even like, that’s what everyone else is doing. Yes, it may be more stable, it may provide a steady income and, give your parents something to brag about but, it isn’t you. Your happiness is in music, I can see that. You light up when you talk about it, you lit up on that fucking stage, and had half the city eating out of the palm of your hands. You are so incredible, you have no idea…”

Yoongi feels his heart swell in his chest, no one has ever spoken to him about his music like this, not with this much passion. But then again, Yoongi’s never known another person like you, he’s never known another that can make him feel so good.

“But jagi…the song…it’s not coming together, my professor is going to hate it…” He urges, anxiety still squirming around in his stomach. He wraps his arms around you tighter though, feeling a bit of comfort at your words.

“Did you think the crowd at Glacier was going to hate your song too?” You point out and, as you do, he bites his lip, sniffling again.

“Yeah…I did…”

A hand is carded gently through his damp hair as you smile down at him, “And look what happened Agust D, you became the city’s champion underground rapper. Did you lock yourself up in this studio and live off of Americanos for weeks on end then too?”

A smile threatens his lips, “You remembered my order…” he sighs, nodding reluctantly at your question, “I do this a lot…”

A breath is released through your nose as you smile gently at his observation but, the frown between your brows remains, “I don’t want to tell you how to live your life Yoongi but, you can’t do this to yourself. I know self-doubt can be borderline parasitic sometimes but, you have to try and cut yourself some slack. I know how hard anxiety can be, I know it can make you feel like the world is coming to an end but, please know that you are so much more capable than you realize. Sometimes it helps to step away from something and, revisit it when you’ve had time to clear your head. I have to do that with my proposals all the time…”

Yoongi moves back slightly to wipe a hand over his face, taking a deep breath as he nods in consideration of your words, “You’re right…I know you’re right. It’s just hard for me not to fall into this cycle sometimes. I got help when I started school, for my anxiety and, it helped but, old habits die hard you know? I just start overthinking everything…I can never get rid of that part.”

You lean down to press a kiss to his forehead before slowly helping him to his feet. “You might not ever get rid of that, you’re only human. Overthinking is my first reaction too but, over the years, I’ve slowly learned to not trust every crazy scenario my brain comes up with.”

He smiles and, this time you see it reach his eyes, the sight calms you significantly. “You’re…”

Yoongi shakes his head, “I knew you’d say the right thing, you always do…”

“Come here.” You smile, pulling him into a hug, tucking your face into his neck, “I’m sorry you’ve been going through this…try to reach out earlier next time ok? So this doesn’t go on so long, you know I’m here for you.”

He nods sagely, rubbing his hands on your lower back, “ I will, I promise…”

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

Roughly an hour later, after you’ve gotten Yoongi to eat a good meal, the two of you start indulging in one another, the lack of contact starting to get to both of you.

Your lips peck against Yoongi’s gently, just as a means to soothe him, your hands placed firmly on his shoulders.

“I just...” He whispers against your mouth, attempting to melt away against your touch.

He needs it, now more than ever.

“Hm?” You hum gently, combing your fingers through his hair, nails scratching tenderly at his scalp.

“I just don’t want to think anymore.” He breathes, responding more and more to the kisses placed against his lips.

The column of his throat is eagerly arching towards your lips in a silent invitation. At the sight of his swallow, tender flesh, you frown at the lack of color there.

“Your marks are gone.” You murmur, kissing the corner of his mouth

Yoongi swears he wants to cry. He's kept his distance all week, trying to make sense of his emotions, trying to perfect his composition. But now, with you here, touching him, loving on him, he realizes how desperate he is for you; for relief.

“Make new ones please...I just want to stop thinking...help me.” He practically keens his response but, he keeps it in check for the most part, not wanting you to consent for the wrong reasons.

You bring your eyes to his, holding his desperate gaze, a smirk beginning to play on your lips.

“How do you want me to help you?” You tease, encouraging him to articulate his desires.

His cheeks flush even more, his Adams apple bobbing as he attempts to swallow back his nerves.

He doesn’t know what’s come over him but, your tone compels him to his knees and, as his jean clad limbs touch the tile, he speaks, “You know...you know me, you know how to take care of me...”

The response goes straight between your thighs; his small voice, his display of respect, you can tell this is something he’s had on his mind or awhile and, after the week he’s endured, you conclude that he needs to let loose.

A finger is curled under his chin, directing his cat-like eyes up towards your own. You can tell he’s nervous but, the way he shifts eagerly on the floor tells you he’s more than ready for you.

“You think so?” You coo, thumbing over his chin, smirking down at him

He nods eagerly at the conclusion of your first sentence but, continues to nod throughout your teasing.

“Use your words...” You urge, tightening your grip on his chin, admiring how beautiful he is on his knees.

“Ye--...” His voice is already shot so, he clears his throat attempting to speak clearer, “Yes...”

Your teeth press into your bottom lip, as your hand moves from his chin to push his faded brown hair away from his forehead.

“You want me to call the shots so you don’t have to?” You’re taking your time to rile him up, knowing it will pay off for him in the end.

Another eager nod comes from Yoongi as he pushes against your hand, his doll-like lips going dry from his heavy breathing.

“Yeah...I trust you; I’ll be so good for you, I promise.” He vows, lips brushing against your wrist, his dark eyes never once leaving yours. “Please…”

You tug on his hair then, drawing a whimper deep from within his chest. Yoongi feels his nipples harden as the pain pricks deliciously against his scalp.

“You like this right? When I pull on it?”

“Yes.” He breathes, shivering as your fingers brush across his lips and, down over his neck.

“And...” You whisper, keeping your tone gentle as your hand wraps around Yoongi’s throat.

This causes him to exhale shakily, his cautious eyes widening like saucers as he stares up at you.

“Wh-…"

You attempt to finish your sentence but, Yoongi’s shaky voice beats you to it, his request tumbling clumsily past his lips.

“Fuck...please choke me...”

He sounds so weak and, yet so sure of himself at the same time. You two had just begun breaching your sexual interests but, stepping into true dominant/submissive roles is something you’ve yet to do.

Whatever is about to happen, is going to be completely new territory for the both of you.

The tightening around Yoongi’s throat makes him see stars; he feels like one of those cartoon characters that’s just been hit with a ton of bricks. Its intoxicating.

“Oh-” Yoongi’s voice is raspier underneath your grip, his dick plumping up painfully against the zipper of his jeans.

“You like when I choke you?” You coo, still holding his throat but, decreasing the pressure slightly.

He nods, gasping as you tighten your grip again, testing the waters. Yoongi can already feel the dampness in his jeans but, he doesn’t care, he wants so much more tonight; he wants you to ruin him.

“Use your words...” You remind him gently, urging him to open up as your free hand combs back through his hair.

He exhales shakily once again, “Yes...”

A fond smile is on your face then as you take a moment to run your fingers through his chestnut locks. You slowly urge him towards you so that he’s close enough to rest his chin against the center of your stomach. Yoongi stares up eagerly, awaiting instructions, his breathing uneven and, you take the small moment of silence to tug on his hair again. This causes his hands to come up and grip your outer thighs in desperation and, if he wasn’t already suffering in his jeans before, he definitely is now.

With a salacious smirk you slowly bend at the waist so you can brush your lips against Yoongi’s, holding his gaze all the while, “I need a safe word from you...can you think of one for me?”

Yoongi can’t think of anything aside from you at the moment along with his painfully hard dick threatening to bust out of his jeans but, he tries his best to wrack his brain for a suitable answer.

“Dragon.”

He scans your face for approval, hoping his choice was sufficient and, if you weren’t fulfilling the role of caretaker, you would be melting onto the floor right now.

“Dragon it is...” You smile, combing a hand through his hair again, resisting the urge to tug on it, “You use that word anytime you need to ok? And we’ll stop...”

Yoongi returns your smile, exhaling at the touch of your fingers, “Ok...”

“Good boy.” The words are spoken into his hair when you lean over to kiss the top of his head. His hands haven’t moved from the outside of your thighs and, at the touch of your lips, he squeezes them again, “Stand up for me.”

At your request, you move away from him, offering your hands as support. Yoongi looks at them tentatively before interlocking his fingers with yours and, slowly moving to his feet. Through the holes in his jeans, you can see how red his knees got from kneeling on the floor.

You want the rest of him to match...

“Come here...” You practically coo at him, curling a finger in your direction, beckoning him towards you. Yoongi never takes his eyes off of you as he takes the three steps necessary to reach you. As he stands before you, you keep his eye contact and, curl your fingers underneath the hem of his grey hoodie.

“Arms up.”

He obliges immediately, raising them high above his head, allowing you to slowly pull the material off of his body. Yoongi feels the hairs on his arms stand at attention as the cooler air of the studio hits his exposed skin. Without instruction you hook a finger underneath his chin and, silently bring his lips to yours. The two of you kiss, slow and sweet, taking time to lull deeper into one another. Your tongue slips in first, laving against Yoongi’s timid but eager mouth, as your hands begin slowly moving up the sides of his torso. A smirk is pushed into the kiss when Yoongi shivers at your touch, his whole body on fire for you.

“You trust me to take care of you right?” You murmur into his mouth and, not two seconds go by before he’s nodding. “You’re gonna be good for me?”

A half of a whimper slips out of Yoongi’s swollen lips, his hands come out to touch your waist as he nods again.

“Yes, I’ll be good...”

You smirk again, deciding that one of your goals tonight is to get Yoongi to feel more comfortable talking dirty to you. It’s a quality he possesses and, you can tell it’s something he’s into but, it takes a certain level of lust to send him there.

“Why are you gonna be good for me?” The question is spoken between a few kisses and, you can’t express the delight you feel when he’s cheeks go red again.

“Because-” His words are cut off as you slowly start to tickle your fingers over his ribs, the pads of your thumbs inching toward his erect nipples. “…. you deserve my respect. You deserve my obedience...”

Good answer.

“What makes me so deserving hm?” You coo against his neck, sucking gently against the sweet spot at the juncture of his collar bone. Before he can answer, you swipe your thumbs over his nipples. Yoongi swears he already feels like he’s going to pass out but, he does his best to answer coherently.

“All women deserve my respect but, you...” He breathes, his head falling back on his shoulders, exposing his skin to you,, his hips rutting forward as you continue brushing your thumbs over his nipples, “you’re the best woman I know...you always take care of me, you’re always so nice to me. I wanna give you everything I can, so I’m worthy for you.”

Yoongi is more than worthy enough for you but, given his history with insecurity, you can’t say his answer surprises you. However, if you weren’t melting into the floor before, you certainly are now.

“You are worthy angel, come here...” The whispered command brings Yoongi’s mouth back onto yours as he swears he could cry at the particular pet name you just chose.

Do you really think he’s an angel?

He can’t imagine why...

With your bodies pressed together and, your lips delicately tending to his, you speak again, initiating the rest of your plan, “Are you ready to play Yoongi?”

Another nod comes from the angel in question, his nose nudging against yours as he does,

“Mhm...”

God, you didn’t know you’d be this into his submission but, here you are, completely drenched and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Sit down on the chair for me, hands on the arm rests.”

He follows orders, sitting down on his desk chair, spreading his legs to accommodate the throbbing erection pushing against his zipper. His long fingers curl over the edges of the arm rests as his chest rises and falls with his increasing heartrate.

You watch him carefully, mulling over multiple options that will hopefully make him cum so hard he can’t think straight. The first move you make is removing your hoodie, baring your black lacy bra to him: an article of clothing you chose specifically because you knew he liked it.

The thing is though, Yoongi is no ordinary man. When he’s truly submitting, he does nothing without permission, not even look at you. Even as you step in front of him, Yoongi’s eyes stay glued to the floor but, the ever increasing motion of his chest gives away his reaction.

“Didn’t you miss me Yoongi? Why aren’t you looking at me?” You grin, knowing the answer already

He shakes his head, not wanting you to misunderstand him, “I missed you, so much, I just hadn’t asked permission to look at you yet. May I look at you?”

“You may.”

He doesn’t need further coaxing. He immediately brings his eyes up to your body, scanning over you eagerly, wincing as he feels his dick twitch in his jeans.

“So pretty...” He murmurs, eyes full of adoration, “thank you for letting me see you...”

“Don’t look away.” You demand softly, smirking in his direction as you slowly unclip your bra, revealing your breasts to him. As the cool air of the studio hits your sensitive chest, your nipples harden causing Yoongi to finally lick his lips.

He wants them in his mouth so badly but, he wouldn’t dare question your plan. He knows you’re going to do right by him.

“Jagi...” Yoongi pulls in another deep breath to calm himself, resisting the urge to gawk at you, “you’re so beautiful...”

You’ve moved in closer to him, standing between his thighs in just your leggings before dipping down to kneel on the floor.

As your nails slowly slide up his legs, you respond, “I wish you knew how beautiful I think you are...maybe then you’d be able to see what I see.”

Yoongi’s lips part in awe of what you just said, feeling very overwhelmed before the two of you have even started.

“You think_” He exhales, eyes fluttering with the sensation of your fingers inching closer to the inseam of his jeans, “…you think I’m beautiful?”

Your fingers tickle over his inner thighs before crawling over his unstable hips and towards his zipper. As you reach his erection, your eyes travel to his, catching a glimpse of his fucked out expression. His pupils are dilated, his lips are swollen, cheeks pink and puffy like fresh cherry blossoms, his fingers twitch on the arm rests; he’s growing desperate with anticipation.

“You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen Min Yoongi. I wouldn’t be caught dead on my knees for any other man…” You whisper, holding his gaze as you yank down his zipper, the motion causing a gasp to leave his lips. The relief is minimal but, Yoongi is grateful that his swollen dick finally has the room fully stand at attention.

You deserve his full attention.

“You’re beautiful…” Is all he manages, his ability to form coherent sentences slowly slipping away.

His hips are lifted at your instructions as you pull his jeans and boxers from his hips, leaving him completely exposed to you. Yoongi feels a little insecure, his got a bit of a tummy on him as he’s been skipping the gym and, eating nothing but takeout the past few months. He didn’t shave either and, he’s waiting for some sort of negative reaction from you but, instead he feels the sharp pull of arousal in his stomach as you start kissing up his thighs.

“I should punish you for the way you’ve treated yourself this past week…” You admonish before taking the tender flesh of his inner thigh between your teeth, sucking hard enough to make him squirm.

Yoongi’s breath catches as he winces from the pain, his thigh jumping away from the sensation, “I’m sorry…I’m really sorry.”

Your tongue laves over the battered flesh before you make your way to the other thigh, taking time to blow cool air over his engorged dick. He shivers whilst thinking of what he would give to be in your mouth right now but, he won’t beg. He won’t try and sway you in any direction; he wants your full control.

“I told you last weekend not to talk shit to yourself didn’t I? So you can imagine my surprise when I come in here tonight and, you’re doing just that…you don’t want to disobey me do you?” You coo, pouting your lips before sucking his skin back between your teeth, creating an identical mark on his right thigh.

“Ah-“ He whimpers, squeezing his eyes shut, feeling rather tipsy at the sensation of pain, “No…of course not. I want to listen…”

A dark chuckle leaves your lips as you start placing kisses up his thigh, a wicked sense of delight coursing when his dick twitches towards your mouth, “Oh he wants to listen now does he? Is it because my lips are so close to your dick?”

Yoongi grips the arm rests, his fingers slipping off due to the sweat created by his palms. Despite the cool temperature of the room, he feels like he’s on fire, he doesn’t think his ever been this turned on in his life.

“No, that’s not the only reason…” His hips jerk along with his stomach trembling when he feels your nails tickle their way over his hips, “I want to be good for you.”

As your nails conclude their teasing over his lower stomach, you let them rest against his hip bones as you ask your next question, “Mm, then you’ll sit there like a good boy while I have my way with you then won’t you?”

Before he can answer your question, a ragged whimper leaves his throat when you scratch your nails harshly across his soft pale skin, leaving aggravated lines of red as you do.

“Oh my fucking god…” He mumbles, eyes watering when his dick does the impossible and swells further, “I’d sit here like a good boy no matter what you wanted to do to me…”

He confesses, his faded chestnut hair sticking to his forehead, his eyes completely blown out with lust.

You prepare your nails to scratch him again and tickle them up the sides of his body, taking a moment to brush your fingertips over his pert nipples. Yoongi’s body is really sensitive but, his chest in particular always garnishes a special reaction from him. Your nails settle right where his heart is and, you can actually feel it pounding against his chest, “I want you to touch yourself for me…can you do that?”

Yoongi lets out a shaky breath and, once again you interrupt his answer by dragging your nails across his chest, digging in harder this time.

He actually feels his dick leaking at the sensation whilst his body arches off the desk chair, craving more of your touch.

“I have to go slow…I’m so hard right now, I don’t know how I’m gonna last….” He warns, his eyes shifting in uncertainty and, you take the time to admire how utterly innocent he looks.

Yoongi may be intimidating to those who don’t know him but, to you, with you, he is the softest man you’ve ever known.

But now isn’t the time for tenderness, you know what he needs.

He needs to be ruined.

So you’ll do just that…

Your hand comes out to wrap around his neck which elicits another gasp from his pink lips, his body going limp at your touch. You squeeze gently, just enough to slow the air circulation and lean in so your lips can brush against his.

“You’ll last because I tell you to last, because this dick belongs to me doesn’t it?”

Yoongi’s face is weak with pleasure as he nods eagerly, a small whimper leaving his lips, “Uh huh…”

A smirk forms on your lips as you squeeze his throat a little tighter, his dick jumping in response, “Say it…”

“My…my dick is yours jagi…” He gasps when you use your free hand to brush gently over his aching nipples, the sensation a huge contrast from what you’re doing to his throat.

“Your cum is mine…” You egg him on, dragging the pad of your thumb gently over either of his nipples.

“Ugh fuck…” He curses, his eyes locking onto yours and lull in and out of focus, “My cum is yours…everything is yours…”

Licking your lips, you loosen your grip slightly, giggling wickedly as he tries to reach for your lips, “You want me to hurt you while you jack off baby?”

Yoongi swears you must be sent from heaven, or maybe hell, either way, he’s dancing on the edges of euphoria at the moment. It’s like you know exactly what he’s thinking, he’s never known anyone who can anticipate his desires so well.

“Mhm…” He hums, the sound edging very close to a coo.

There is something that crosses your mind, something you hadn’t thought of before this began: was Yoongi capable of going into subspace? Because the glossy eyed expression, the yearning look, the pliant posture and slack jaw, everything about him looks like he’s heading in that direction.

“Yeah? You want me to hurt you really good?”

His mouth falls open as soon as you slide your cupped hand up his throat, your thumb brushing tenderly against his lips, “Yeah…please hurt me…”

Oh fuck, he’s right there…

“Suck…” You command gently, staring into his eyes, which have started to glaze over at your touch. He takes your thumb in his mouth, sucking eagerly, holding your eyes for approval, laving his tongue against the tip of it. “show me how you touch yourself baby…”

He nods, still sucking on your thumb before removing his sweaty hand down to his aching length. Yoongi’s eyes squeeze shut as he slowly curves a fist around himself, and, his leg twitches when he starts stroking his dick.

The relief is instant and, you feel the vibrations of his moans against your thumb. As he works himself up, you move away from him to kneel back between his knees.

His breathing is heavier, his toes are fidgeting against the floor but, his eyes refuse to leave yours, even as they threaten to close from pleasure.

You slowly tease your nails down his chest, over his ribs and hips, dangerously close to his dick, over his now bruised inner thighs and, all the way down to his ankles.

He brushes his thumb over his tip, a small whimper leaving his lips as his eyes squeeze close at the sensation. He’s already close, you’ve been winding him up for the past 45 minutes but, he holds on desperately, not wanting this to end.

“What do you think about when you touch yourself Yoongi?”

He takes another shaky breath and, does his best to swallow properly, despite his mouth being completely dry, “Lately, all I think about is you…I don’t even watch porn that often…”

Before you ask another question, you dig your nails into his calves and slowly begin dragging them up his legs. His whole body jerks in response, his hand faltering over his tip, he has to pull away for a moment, he almost came right there.

“ohmygod….” He keens, mostly to his self, his wide eyes looking away for a moment while he desperately tries to get a hold of himself.

“Oh but, you do watch porn? You’re cumming for other women then?” You tease and, Yoongi would panic that you’re actually upset but, the playful smirk on your face tells him that you’re just giving him a hard time.

“I don’t watch women…” He breathes, a ghost of smirk now playing on his own lips, “I watch men mostly, women in porn are annoying…they’re all annoying honestly…”

This makes you giggle but, you feel yourself growing wetter at the thought of Yoongi, getting off to men.

“So you think of me sometimes?” You’re still teasing him and, he knows you’re fishing but, he’s so into you he doesn’t care; he’d write a fucking thesis on you if he had the time.

He shakes his head, stifling a moan as you drag your nails over his hips when his hand reaches the tip of his dick; he really doesn’t know how he’s going to last.

“No…you don’t get it…” His breath is fucked and, his dick is so hard he wants to cry, it takes everything in him not to beg, “I think about you all the time…I’ve been thinking about you, ever since I came to your house that first time…”

Lust swirls deep in your panties; you don’t know how much longer you’re going to be able to do this either, his dick looks so good, hard, swollen and aching to be fucked. But you haven’t finished ruining him yet, you want him completely desperate before you give in.

“When I pulled your hair the first time?” You smirk, your hands travelling up his body once again as he nods, licking over his lips.

“Ye…yeah…that’s why I left so quickly, you made me hard…” He gasps again as your hand makes it back up to his neck, “…I…are you gonna choke me again?” His eyes look wary, almost frightened, the motions on his dick slowing again, “I don’t….jagi, I don’t know what to do…I don’t want to disappoint you but, if you…if you choke me again, I don’t…”

You smirk, tightening your hand around his neck before he can finish his sentence, “You’re gonna what baby?

“Oh fuck-“ He squeaks, his eyes starting to water when he squeezes over his tip, trying to halt his release, “Jagiya…I can’t…I can’t hold it, you have to stop…”

“Hold it, or I’ll tie you to this chair and leave you like this…” You hiss into his mouth, and his brow furrows in desperation but, his balls tighten further at your threat. The hand around his neck doesn’t cease its constriction and, his hand actually begins to move faster on his length.

His starting to learn…

“Good boy…don’t stop…” You kiss at his lips but, not long enough for him to respond to you, his whole body on fire and shivering at the same time.

Yoongi nods in determination, a shaky breath leaving his nose as he follows orders. He tenses however as you stand up, your left hand coming up to comb through his hair, which is matted against his forehead with sweat.

“Please…” He whimpers but, its not for permission to cum, you know exactly what it’s for.

Curling your fingers around the roots of his hair you tug hard enough to push his head back against the desk chair and, before he can even react, you use your other hand to tighten around his throat.

That’s it, that’s what breaks him.

Tears collect at the corner of his eyes as they widen like saucers, his mouth falling back open as he tries to cry out but, he’s too hoarse to do so.

“Y/N please…baby…baby please, pleasefuckme, pleasefuckme, I can’t…I need you...“ He’s completely lost it, he’s rambling, his eyes aren’t even in focus.

He isn’t even really looking at you but, you know you’ve got him, he’s made it there.

In less than ten seconds, he’s out of the desk chair and onto the pull out couch. He trembles beneath you; his hands reach up as if the lack of contact is painful.

Leaning down to him, you press a tender kiss to his lips to which he responds like a starving man.

“Please jagi…please I need you so bad, I’m sorry I need you, I need you…I really fucking need you…” He sounds like his about to cry and you nod, your tenderness returning just as quickly as it left, your panties pushed haphazardly off of your hips

“Hey…hey...I’m coming angel, I’m coming, just breath for me ok? I’m going to make it better…” You coo, pressing him gently into the squeaky mattress of the pull out couch, the cool sheets welcome against his hot skin.

He nods, not fully able to focus as he wraps his hands around your hips. You press another kiss to his lips before your final command is given, “As soon as I sink down onto you, I want you to cum ok? Can you do that for me?”

Yoongi’s bleary gaze finally locks onto your eyes, his body weakened with desire, “I’ll do anything for you…”

You can’t even recognize his voice, it’s so small, so weak and, so in…

You can’t say it.

Not yet.

But you can feel it, its bubbling right underneath the surface.

As soon as you sink down on him, you give him a few good strokes of your drenched heat before his whole body arches off the bed. Yoongi’s face is buried into your neck, his dull nails dig into your hips as he lets out a cry that shatters you.

You can feel how much he’s cumming as shot after shot of his release paints the inside of you. He’s cumming so hard that he starts crying, his silent whimpering enough to send you over the edge with him.

“don’t stop…don’t stop…” He cries into your neck, holding you so tight to him that it restricts your movements.

All you can do is nod as white hot pleasure takes over your senses, your orgasm just as intense given the events of the last hour.

Yoongi completely loses himself, he cums again, his hips glued to yours as he cries for you. Part of him would feel embarrassed but, he’s too fucked out to care. He’s too in…

Not yet.

He can’t say it, but it’s in his throat.

Its in his heart.

God, he’s never felt so good in his life, he never knew it could be this good.

“Y/N…” He croaks when your hips start settling down. His face doesn’t leave your neck but, he starts sucking gently on it, trying to ground himself.

He feels like he’s floating.

“Baby…” Yoongi practically coos, hands glued to your skin, still sniffling as his tears slowly come to a halt.

The smile that graces your face is brilliant and full of adoration. You slowly pull off of him, “I’m right here angel, I got you…”

You want to get him in a more comfortable position so you can hold him but when you try to pull away to do so, he panics, his glossy eyes widening in fear.

“No…no…” He tries to protest but, you kiss his forehead to reassure him

“Shh…I’m not going anywhere, I just want to hold you…come here for me…” You murmur, kissing his forehead again.

He’s suspicious, not thinking clearly but, he trusts you, not moving more than an inch away from your body as you shift the two of you to sit against the back of the couch. Yoongi scrambles to get closer to you, making himself smaller as he lays his upper half into your chest, tucking his face back into your neck.

“I got you baby boy, I got you…” You whisper, hoping the soft blue light in the studio will soothe him further along with gentle kisses pressed to his skin, “You did so good for me angel…”

Silent tears fall down his cheeks as he tucks further into you, “I did good?”

He checks again, feeling so vulnerable and, yet so safe at the same time.

You smile, pressing a kiss to his sweaty forehead, your nails gently combing his hair back, “You did amazing. You were so good for me.”

His small mouth curves in a dreamy smile, still trembling but, feeling slightly more grounded, “You keep calling me angel….you’re the angel…my angel.”

“You can’t steal my nickname…” You giggle, causing his small smile to turn into a gummier smile as he nuzzles your neck.

“So pretty…” Is all he can think of to say but, you know he’s talking about your laugh.

God, you feel like crying right now though, you could have never guessed that you could feel this strongly about another person.

When a comfortable silence falls over you, you take a moment to notice how banged up he really is. His body is decorated with pinks and purples, scratches, bites, a hicky or two; you really did a number on him and, you want to take care of his skin before it gets too uncomfortable.

“Yoongi? Baby, I need to put something on your scratches, I have cooling gel in my bag-“ You begin to say but, his eyes quickly widen again and, the same panicked look returns.

“Don’t…don’t go-“ He urges, holding you tighter.

You know it’s a symptom of him being in subspace, he doesn’t actually think your leaving but, a lack of contact with you makes him nervous.

“I’ll come right back, my bag is on the floor…” You assure him gently, pressing a kiss between his eyes.

His eyes flutter shut at your kiss and, his hands tighten on you one last time before, he kind of gets a grip on himself.

He knows he’s being a little unreasonable but, he’s never felt like this before, he feels intoxicated and so incredibly needy.

“Ok…” He reluctantly agrees

Another kiss is placed to his forehead before you move quickly to retrieve the gel from your purse. As soon as you sit back down with him, he immediately wraps himself around you, hiding away in your neck as you start to apply the gel to his skin. His breathing is beginning to even out as he melts into you, letting you take care of him.

Like you always do…

“How do you feel?” You whisper into his hair as you smooth the substance over his neck, which has reddened slightly.

“I feel high…” He muses, sounding a little bit more like himself.

His response causes you to giggle, “I’m that good huh?”

Yoongi smirks, kissing your neck slowly, “You invented sex…”

Another giggle bubbles over your lips, as you pull the sheet over Yoongi’s body, “Do you feel better then?”

“Mhm…” He hums into your neck, kissing up the length of it before finding your lips. A soft kiss is placed there before he speaks again, “I wish I could articulate better but, you fucked me stupid jagi…”

Smiling into the kiss, you comb a hand through his hair, scratching gently at the scalp, “Don’t worry about it, take your time, I’m right here if you need me…”

The two of you stay like this for quite some time, holding each other, as you slowly settle back down. Yoongi stays quiet for the most part, doing his best to center his thinking which proves to be quite easy as the only thing he can really think about is you.

A half an hour passes before he finally speaks up, feeling the need to explain something to you.

“I used to live here…” He murmurs, face still tucked into your chest

Your brow furrows at his statement, “Here? At the studio?”

He shakes his head, “It wasn’t always a studio, ten years ago it was a halfway house for troubled youth…”

The beating of your heart stalls but, as you open your mouth to respond, Yoongi continues, his voice stabilizing finally, “My parents are not supportive of what I do. When I was a teenager, we used to fight all the time about it. They tried to force me to stop but, I never listened. I snuck out to do music all the time and, started failing out of school. One night, my father came in and freaked out on me, he destroyed my lyric pages and, threw everything away. The next day, I came home from school and, they had kicked me out. My older brother tried to stop them but, they wouldn’t listen...”

Your chest feels tight as you try your hardest not to let your emotions overflow; you never knew how much Yoongi has endured.

“Sejin, the guy at the front desk, he’s a friend of my older brother,” He rasps, placing another kiss to your skin as a means to soothe himself, “he took me in with nothing but my old laptop and, the clothes on my back. My parents wouldn’t let me take anything. I finished school in the city and, ended up landing a scholarship at our university, that’s where I met Hobi and, reconnected with Namjoon. Once he found out what happened to me, he insisted I move in with him while I got my degree. The rest you already know…”

You hold him tighter, kissing his forehead for the 100th time, “I’m so sorry Yoongi, I didn’t know you went through all of that. You’re so strong for pushing towards your dreams despite everything being so hard for you…”

He smiles gently and the wise look has settled back into his eyes as he looks up at you, “You see why I get a little nervous sometimes now…I’m so worried that my parents are going to be right.”

Nodding, you thumb over his cheek, “I do but, please know that you’ve already proved your parents wrong. After everything you’ve endured, you still keep pushing and, as long as you keep dreaming, you’ll never fail…”

A sudden kiss is pressed to your lips then, which Yoongi turns slow and sweet.

Just like him…

“On my worst days, I tell myself that all of this will be worth it someday…” He whispers against your lips, continuing to kiss at them

“It will be, everything will pay off...”

“It’s already started to…ever since my classroom switched…” He smiles, brushing a piece of hair from your face.

Intense emotion blooms fully in your heart when he responds and, you have to shake your head to keep yourself from crying, “Does that mean you’ll be my date tomorrow then?”

He chuckles, his eyes brightening up significantly as he leans into your lips,

“Tomorrow and, any other time you’ll have me.”

if you let me, here’s what i’ll do: i’ll take care of you

563 notes · View notes

iwantutobehapppier · 5 years ago

Text

Happy Chanukah

Pairing: James ‘Bucky’ Barnes x Reader

Summary: It’s the final night of Chanukah, after the food is eaten and dreidle game over you’re left to reflect on the end of another holiday season. Bucky won’t let you feel down during the happiest time of the year and seeks to comfort you his favorite way.

Warning: Smut 18+ Only, cock warming, its all so soft and I don’t know how that happened.

Word Count: 890ish

A/N: Happy final night of Chanukah! I thought since I started it Chanukah themed smut I’ll end it with some too. I hope everyone’s holidays were wonderful and spent just how you wanted them to be. Thank you for being patience and sending me SO MUCH LOVE! I am overwhelmed by all of your kind words and sexual frustration haha. I’ve got some other stuff in the works that I’ll get back to now that this over but I cannot tell you how much of a joy it has been doing an event for my own religious holiday. Meant a lot. Without further ado some soft cock warming Bucky.

The flickering light of your Chanukah menorah was welcomed and bright in your living room. All 9 candles, including the Shammash lit, reminded you of your childhood. The excitement of the final night of Chanukah meant the biggest present as a kid.

Now it meant the eight nights of generational traditions were complete. You curled up into Bucky’s warm embrace on the couch. Christmas had come and gone, you two exchanging gifts but nothing big. After all, the two of you were out on missions for most of the month. You had only been able to light the menorah the final night of Chanukah, that just made it mean even more to you.

Bucky’s flesh arm wrapped around you tight, his metal hand holding a book you had gotten him. ‘Astrophysics for People in a Hurry.’ You knew it was perfect for Bucky and his love of science. It wasn’t so complicated he couldn’t understand it but wasn’t so simple that he wouldn’t feel engaged while reading. He was speeding through it with his flesh arm wrapped around your back, resting on his chest was your favorite spot.

A soft sigh escaped you, the candles were almost burnt out. Steve and Sam had come over earlier to eat brisket, latkes and play a little bit of dreidel. Bucky accused Sam of having a loaded dreidel after his fourth win in a row. It meant everything to you that they would want to partake in your faith and traditions. You almost wish it had been the whole team and your family.

However, your life as an Avenger was not always conducive for that type of celebration. How did Tony pull it off? Perhaps you could get him to plan a Chanukah party for you next year? The flickering of a light going out on the menorah pulled another sigh from you. Why did the end of Chanukah always bring such a feeling of remorse, was it the oncoming new year?

Bucky picking up on the shift in your mood sat his book down, his metal hand cupping your cheek. You lift your head up, seeing the soft lines on his brow furrowed. “Baby?” the cadence of his voice sent warmth throughout you. “You okay there?”

“Just being nostalgic and upset the holiday season is over,” His brow softens fingers petting your face, you nuzzle into his attentions.

“Oh no, I can’t have my baby bein’ sad.” Sitting up straighter he pulls you into his lap, placing your back to his chest, his hand push your short dress up. Oh he was going to comfort you that way.

A metal hand pulls your underwear off, you lift your legs in the air to help. Enjoying your eagerness to be taken care of by him he chuckles. Pressing his face into your neck you tilt your head to the side giving him more room, he rewards with soft kisses. His flesh hand trails up and down your pussy lips, your breath hitches at the sensation.

Slipping between the moisten lips he twirls his fingers along your clit, then dipping into your entrance bringing out your slickness. Your body always so responsive to him, only him.

The metal hand slithers below your ass to unzip his pants to free his growing erection. His commando tendencies made for easy for your favorite ways to comfort you. Shifting around his fingers teasing you the only barrier between you and his cock. You take him in your hand giving him a leisure pump, he bites into your neck.

“No baby,” he pulls your hand off him, “This is about you.” You whimper wanting to tell him his pleasure is yours but your voice fails when he shifts your hips pressing his cock into your opening. Your slick coating the head of his cock. Your head rolls back onto his shoulder, the soft hiss he emits in your ear and the push of his cock into your scorching heat sends shivers down your body.

“Does that feel good baby?” His voice strained, you coo an affirmation shifting your own hips down until he’s fully seated. Oh god, how good he felt like this. Hitting the deepest spots in you, the sensuousness of being one intoxicating. Bucky’s panting into your neck trying to control the desire to just pound your unrelenting heat until you’re both going to pass out.

He knows this isn’t about the ultimate orgasm, instead its the connection, the way your walls flutter intermittently intimately embracing him, how your fingers curl into his knees. His hand holding your stomach the other cupping a breast, so soft and weighted.

Holding you like this, as one, it was his favorite way to cuddle you, to comfort you, to be with you. The two of you remain just so, letting the time pass by watching the Menorah’s lights go out one by one. The dimming light an alluring ambiance.

“I love you,” the words sublime falling from your mouth into his ears. His hand on your stomach pushes you back further into him. Trying to truly become one with you. Nuzzling into your neck he breaths in deep, becoming drunk off of you invading all his senses.

“Happy Chanukah baby,” warm breath on your neck at his words, you feel your eyes become heavy, the safety and love in his embrace soothing your tired body.

#bucky barnes x reader #james barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #Winter Soldier #smut #marvel smut #bucky barnes smut #winter soldier smut #put on your yamakah its time for fucking chanukah #fanfic #miri writes #hanukkah

137 notes · View notes

snicketstrange · 6 years ago

Text

The Great Unknown 2.0 - I was partly wrong

On May 24, I was eating an octopus at a themed seafood restaurant. All the waiters were wearing clothes by character, and I felt surrounded by an atmosphere of ASOUE. That's when I paid attention to the octopus suction cups on my plate. Then I had a revelation about the Great Unknown. Because of this revelation, I had to read again some texts, I had to consult a marine biologist, a mechanical engineer, and Laerte. Laerte is an English expert, who knew nothing about ASOUE, so his opinion was completely neutral. And after these considerations I came to the conclusion that I was wrong about the Great Unknown, at least in part.

To begin with: Lemony refers to the interrogation format seen in Queequeg's sonar with being an 'underwater craft' (TGG p 85).

Lemony wrote about the first appearance of the question mark:

"There was a third shape of glowing green light, this one the biggest of all, a huge curved tube with a small circle at the end of it, slithering toward the center of the screen like a snake. But this third underwater craft didn't look like a snake."

So ... There's a big difference between believing The Great Unknown is a submarine in 2007 and continuing to believe The Great Unknown is a submarine in 2019. The difference is the ATWQ series of books. ATWQ explains that there is a gigantic marine animal in the form of a question mark, which moves at high speeds, and is able to be controlled by sounds. So a person who continues to believe in 2019 that The Great Unknown is a submarine is consequently a person who believes there is this gigantic animal in the form of questioning, AND ALSO there is a submarine that was built in the form of a gigantic question mark. That is, whoever believes that the Great Unknowing is a submarine, do not fail to believe that there is also a gigantic question-mark animal in the oceans of the universe of ASOUE. And when I thought better of it, I realized that I have no real reason to disagree with it. In fact, it was I who created the theory called "Daniel Handler duplicates events to confuse you". So, from my lunch at the seafood restaurant, I came to believe that Daniel Handler doubled the Great Unknown to confuse us. And this is not just a non-canonical hypothesis. In fact, the Carmelita submarine explains everything.

The first correct question is: Who built the Carmelita submarine?

The second right question is: Why does the Carmelita submarine have no torpedoes?

The third right question is: Why the submarine Carmelita has the shape of a giant octopus?

The fourth correct question is: What did the sailors of the universe of ASOUE look at in the oceans in the shape of a question mark?

But before answering these questions, I need to confirm to explain what I have found about sonars and echolocation systems used by some animals. I believed that when Olaf spoke about the sonar that the huge question-mark entity possessed, he might be talking about a biosonar. But I was wrong. The functioning mechanism of the echolocation of some animals consists of the following: the animal emits a sound, the sound is reflected by the objects, then the animal hears the reflected sound. Even if the object in question does not emit any sound, it will be detected, for what the animal hears is the echo of the sound that it produced. On the other hand, there are artificial sonars of two types. One of them works using the same operating principle as the echolocation system. The other type works by listening for the sound produced by the objects that are detected.

The wikipedia explains thus:

"Two types of technology share the name" sonar ": passive sonar is essentially listening for the sound made by vessels, active sonar is emitting pulses of sounds and listening for echoes."

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sonar

Fiona explained which of the two types was the Sonar used at the time in the universe of ASOUE:

"We can tell if any other undersea craft are approaching us by detecting the sounds they make." TGG, chapter 4.

Olaf also did the favor of explaining the kind of sonar that he believed existed in the giant question mark format thing:

"I guess you'd better come with me," the count said wearily. "But no tap-dancing! We don't want to show up on their sonar!" (TGG capítulo 13)

Thus, Olaf certainly believed that the sound produced by the tap dance could cause the Queequeg or the Carmelita to be detected in their sonar. This means that Olaf was talking about a submarine with passive sonar, not a biosonar.

So who could have built that submarine in the form of a giant question mark? Certainly it was the same organization that built the sub in the form of giant octopus. In fact, when you come to that conclusion everything starts to make sense. There is an evil organization that is an enemy of both the firefighting side of the Schism and the incendiary side of Schism.

This evil organization has the habit of building submarines in the form of marine beasts. But the most interesting thing is to understand why this organization had this custom.

And to understand this you just have to understand why the Carmelita did not have torpedoes.

And the answer to that question is so cool ... I do not know if I was the first to realize it ... And if I went, I feel really proud of myself.

The answer is that there are no more firearms in the universe of ASOUE, or at least there are no more firearms in the region where the main story takes place.

But the firearms already existed, and were known. In the play "La Fuerza Del Destino" was portrayed a firearm. But at no time during the ASOUE events or during ATWQ, is a firearm portrayed, not even by villains. I'd rather believe that at some point VFD, by fighting against fire, managed to eliminate the technology of building firearms. So the villainous organization that built submarines of war, needed other mechanisms to destroy other submarines and ships, and even airplanes. Olaf explained how the Carmelita worked in this respect:

"This submarine is one of the greatest things I've ever stolen," he bragged. "It has everything I'll need to defeat V.F.D. once and for all. It has a sonar system, so I can rid the seas of V.F.D. submarines. It has an enormous flyswatter, so I can rid the skies of V.F.D. planes. It has a lifetime supply of matches, so I can rid the world of V.F.D. headquarters. It has several cases of wine that I plan to drink up myself, and a closet full of very stylish outfits for my girlfriend. And best of all, it has plenty of opportunities for children to do hard labor!” – TGG chapter 9.

The way the Carmelita attacked the Queequeg, using the tentacles, shows that the submarine was octopus shaped for functional reasons: in addition to allowing navigation, the tantacles were designed to be used as weapons.

But note the detail: Olaf had to steal the Carmelita. Did he steal from VFD? I think not. One reason is this excerpt from Chapter 9:

. "I'm going to lock all of you in the brig, which is the official seafaring term for Jail." "We know what the brig is," Klaus said. "Then you know it's not a very pleasant place," the villain said. "The previous owner used it to hold traitors captive, and I see no reason to break with tradition."

The idea I have about this dialogue is that the owner already owned a place intended for traitors ... As if that was already part of the submarine's design. It is unlikely that you will create a submarine already thinking there will be several uprisings in the crew, and already create a place to arrest those who revolt if the organization that you are part of is formed by volunteers. However, if your crew is made up of slave laborers, this is more likely. If you stop to think about the means of Carmelita propulsion, you will realize that it was designed to be moved to human labor. In fact, the whole scenario of children being rowing to move the submarine, is very reminiscent of a type of real vessel, called Galley. The wiki explains:

"A galley is a type of ship that is propelled mainly by rowing. The galley is characterized by its long, slender hull, shallow draft and low freeboard (clearance between sea and railing). Virtually all types of galleys had sails that could be used in favorable winds, but human strength was always the primary method of propulsion. Galleys were the warships used by the early Mediterranean naval powers, including the Greeks, Phoenicians and Romans.... It was only in the early 16th century that the modern idea of the galley slave became commonplace. Galley fleets as well as the size of individual vessels increase in size, which required more rowers. ... All major Mediterranean powers sentenced criminals to galley service, but initially only in time of war."

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Galley

If you've already watched Ben Hur you must remember his scene in a Galley. Well then, the Carmelita was built like a Galley. VFD would not do that. Queequeg's propulsion does not require a large crew, only one captain and two crew members. Did the Carmelita come from the incendiary side of Schism? No. Olaf would not need to steal the Carmelita from the incendiary side. The Netiflix Series left those details aside. They showed that the Carmelita came from members of the incendiary side of Schism, but for this they needed to change the original story. In the books, the Carmelita was stolen by Olaf. He can only have stolen from another organization.

And then things get more interesting.

We come to realize that there is a relationship of cause and effect: Why was an entity in the form of a gigantic question mark chasing after the Carmelita? And why was Olaf so afraid of this entity? And why was Windershins so afraid? The answer is as follows: Olaf stole the Carmelita from a maligian organization, which builds war submachines and uses slave laborers. This organization sent an even larger submarine than the Carmelita, to be able to capture the Carmelita back. This even larger submarine had been built in the shape of a legendary monster: Bombinating Beast.

This explains this passage from Chapter 4 of TGG:

"What was that third shape?" Violet asked. The captain shook his head again. "Something very bad," he said. "Even worse than Olaf, probably. I told you Baudelaires that there is evil you can not even imagine."

The organization that controlled that submarine was a common enemy of Olaf and VFD.

And now is the time for me to refer to another movie. The Bugs Life, 1998. (In the Bugs Life, you should remember that the ants have built a mechanical device to simulate a bird. The mechanical passer should cut down the locusts. This bird had used several ant-children as a means of propulsion and control. In a way, this is very reminiscent of the Carmelite. But in The Bugs Life, the real bird arrives and kills the villain at the end. It was something that would happen at the hotel.

I still believe that within the sugar bowl there is a whistle capable of controlling the true beast. I still believe that Beatrice summoned the real beast shortly after picking up the sugar bowl, and who came to control it.

This explains why Windershins first feared the entity in the form of interrogation. He said it was probably worse than Olaf. The word "probably" indicates that he had doubts, whether it was the real beast, or whether it was the evil organization's submarine. If it was the submarine, it would really be worse than Olaf. But the beast was just an animal. Although it was mortal, the animal was not worse than Olaf. After the destruction of the Queequeg, Windershins bet that the question mark was the animal being controlled, and therefore went to meet the animal. And one of Quaqumire said the name "Violet", showing that they were right: Someone like Violet was in the beast's mouth. But if it was the submarine, they would be dead. The certainty of Windershins came from the fact that he had already been taken by the woman who owned the sugar bowl. She invoked the Great Unknown. And by the way, Lemony called this animal that way, because it came across him in his teens. The sailors had seen from time to time the gigantic question mark, because it was actually a submarine created to resemble a legendary monster. Hector went to investigate one of these submarine appearances in the ocean using his balloon. Ah, another interesting detail: by creating submarines in the form of animals, the evil organization made sailors not even suspect the existence of submarines. They thought they were giant animals.

But the right question is: has the animal known as Bombinating Beast been around for a long time, or was it a hangfire creation? Because the statuette that imitates the sound of the Bombinating Beast has been around for a long time, we can conclude that it had existed for a long time. However, Hangfire picked up a rare animal that already existed, and made experiments so that it would get much bigger and much more frightening. The original animal was supposed to be the size of a manatee, so many of Moxie's ancestors did not believe that their ancestor had actually captured a monster, just a manatee. In the same way that legends of giant octopuses arose, there were legends of the giant Bombinating Beast. These legends inspired the evil organization to create its submarines, and inspired Hangfire to come up with a scientific method to increase the size and ferocity of the true Bombinating Beast.

So that's all.

#asoue theory #asoue theories #the great unknown #beatrice baudelaire #windershins #tgg #atwq #bombinating beast

855 notes · View notes

ch-dld-bft-brit-omm · 5 years ago

Link

youtube

Schoenberg diverged from the serial row-form in this String Quartet to the extent that, when questioned about a particular passage by a violinist from Kolisch's quartet he angrily responded: ''If I hear an F-sharp I will write an F-sharp . . . Just because of your stupid theory you are telling me what to write?'' This is an indication of his revulsion towards conceptual responses to composition as an actual expression of feeling in sound. He was telling the theorist What it Is.

How did Kolisch look at it? The tone rows are used as motifs and not as schematic solutions to tonic dilemmas. The series form a dense contrapuntal texture which, apparently untrue to form, return to classical compositional procedure. For example, in the First Movement there is the suggestion of sonata form and what seems to be a relaxation of 12-tone technique as the same pitches occur for 12 measures, in apparent defiance of his principled compositional stance. There is a recurrence of varied shapes which function as connective rather than motivic tissue and the movement ends with a leaping and falling theme in an increasingly higher voice.

In the Second Movement there is a series of variations which violate stylistic expectation and appear to repudiate notions of format and theme. The Intermezzo Movement with prominent viola presents a fluid thematic section, suggesting a motif with a narrow range and repeated notes culminating in a violent trio fading to a lyrical conclusion.

The Fourth Movement is dense and complex with a contrast of internal musical logic and its leaps within a narrow melodic range breathing inconclusiveness and a frenzy to recapitulate sonic material.

This is what we hear and perhaps how we might respond, but does it get to the essence of it? Strictly speaking, a composition refers to nothing but itself and in that respect Hanslick is right. But let us look more closely. I listen to the Kolisch String Quartet's interpretation of Schoenberg's Third Quartet because I have the desire to hear it, a desire which is born of need or curiosity. This is also because of the unfulfilled expectation that the composition will present itself in the way in which Schoenberg wanted, without any concealment or betrayal by a theorist who might imagine that a composition is the end-result of a musicological schema. I desire to experience the composition as a collaborative event in which an affective apprehension will change me. This is an urge to transformation, not a confirmation of a sedimented emotional life which I might have. It is not a plea for the reassurance of a concretely determined pathology. It is an imaginative way out, a reawakening. It possesses the logic of a dream which will alter me. The Quartet is, therefore, not so much an object with quantifiable sonic or musicological characteristics, but an event. This event takes place in time and it was written on a particular historical occasion. But when I listen to it I do not perceive it as an event in that sense. It is an occasion with a consuming fascination in which the everyday world has evaporated and only essential meaning remains. This is the meaning of imaginative and affective apprehension. Quantifiable and calculable external circumstances have disappeared as I give myself over to the event. My apprehension of the composition is not chronological but successive, the meaning of which unfolds as I attend to it. This is areal time, not the time of the clock, and its presenting itself is my composition, Schoenberg being the expressive inventor of the circumstance, the one who gives shape and logic to sound. The composition is not analogous to anything but itself and his Third Quartet invokes a meaning of which, temporally and affectively,

I am the secret sharer.

We listen here for: What it Is.

Michael Lawrence Woods, Journal of Aesthetics and Culture, 2010

[This recording is by the Kohon String Quartet]

1 note · View note

onestowatch · 6 years ago

Text

30 Artists To Watch on Tour This Spring 2019

Ah, what a season spring is. It is a time of rebirth, from the super bloom of poppies that are flooding Instagram feeds to even young love that will last at the very least until summer. Yet, one facet of spring is more magical than any pretty flower or whirlwind romance -- we are of course talking about spring tours!

This spring, the best of the best of rising artists will be embarking on tours across the world, playing world renowned festivals and likely a show in a city near you. Yet, with hundreds, if not thousands, of artists embarking on tour this spring, how could you ever decide who to see? No need to fret, as we here at Ones To Watch have already solved that problem for you. These are thirty of the best tours happening this spring 2019.

LÉON with Morgan Saint

Genre: Left-of-center pop that is the just the right thing for any listening occasion

We here at Ones To Watch could not be more elated to present LÉON’s forthcoming tour in support of her long-awaited, self-titled debut album. The fact that we are going to get to hear one of pop’s most soulful voices alongside one of our favorite musical discoveries of this year is all we could have ever asked for and more.

Grab tickets!

Jorja Smith x Kali Uchis

Genre: Two R&B visionaries sharing the same stage

We would be lying if we did not admit that a solo Jorja Smith or Kali Uchis show would be more than enough to have us rushing to buy our tickets. So, when word hit that these two powerhouses of R&B were setting off on tour together, we already had our wallets drawn.

Grab tickets!

Smino with EARTHGANG and Phoelix

Genre: Hip-hop with substance

A true hip-hop visionary, rapper and singer Smino will be embarking alongside EARTHGANG and Phoelix on the Ones To Watch presented ‘Hoopti Tour.’ Following the release of Smino’s acclaimed sophomore album, Noir, we are all expecting a tour rife with a wealth of phenomenal material to pull from.

Grab tickets!

YUNGBLUD

Genre: Raw, explosive, and political alternative rock

It is no secret that YUNGBLUD is our favorite socio-politically-minded rocker, having invited the rising star out to our New York rooftop to demonstrate his talents for us first-hand. And with “11 Minutes,” a striking collaboration with Halsey and Travis Barker, YUNGBLUD has emerged as 2019’s breakout star.

Grab tickets!

Wallows

Genre: An otherworldly blend of indie rock and anti-pop aesthetics

Comprised of Braeden Lemasters, Dylan Minnette, and Cole Preston, Wallows has yet to release their debut album, but the trio is already one of our favorite new obsessions. And the best news yet? The boys are just about to drop their debut album, Nothing Happens, and hit the road playing what is bound to be an album we will have on repeat.

Grab tickets!

A R I Z O N A

Genre: electronic dance pop that reaches heavenly heights

A R I Z O N A does more than transform guitars, keys, and vocals, into alternative dance pop. The trio transforms these sparse elements into anthemic musical worlds brimming with life. Currently gearing up to embark on the Ones To Watch presented ‘Find Someone Tour,’ you can expect to catch us at the front row of every show.

Grab tickets!

iDKHOW

Genre: Pop-punk may just be the only type of punk that’s not dead

I DON’T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME, popularly abbreviated to idkhow for the sake of me not getting early onset arthritis, reminds us exactly why pop-punk is such an internationally loved phenomenon. Our sister site, The Noise, had the pleasure of capturing iDKHOW live, and it has us oh so pumped for this upcoming tour.

Grab tickets!

Sticky Fingers

Genre: The illicit love child of Manchester rock and Kingston dub

Our favorite chart-topping Australian rockers, Sticky Fingers, are currently in the midst of their Ones To Watch presented ‘Yours To Keep Album Tour,’ in support of their remarkable fourth studio album. Based on what we saw of their New York show, trust us when we say Sticky Fingers is a band you do not want to miss out on seeing live.

Grab tickets!

Pale Waves

Genre: Iridescent indie pop with a healthy side of goth

Pale Waves is akin to a modern-day The Cure. Adoring a gothic exterior, the UK-based quarter makes shimmering indie pop that is undeniably infectious. Add that to the fact that they are playing not only a series of their own headlining shows but touring alongside The 1975, and we are sold.

Grab tickets!

lovelytheband with flora cash and Jagwar Twin

Genre: Indie pop anthems that speak to depression, anxiety, and the hardships of life

lovelytheband is a band that has no trouble in resonating with the world at large. From their songs that are veritable earworms to their wholly relatable lyrics, we here at Ones To Watch could not be happier to be presenting the band’s ‘finding it hard to smile’ tour.

Grab tickets!

Leikeli47

Genre: Raucous rap with an infectious edge

Brooklyn rapper Leikeli47 is in a class all her own. At times experimental yet always slapping, Leikeli47 is chronicling life as a black woman through her empowering, humorous, sad, and thought-proving gift for lyricism. Catch us pondering and going off on ‘The Acrylic Tour.’

Grab Tickets!

Alec Benjamin

Genre: Profound songwriting talent that belies the artist’s age

A story or a songwriting genius like Alec Benjamin does not come around too often. From being dropped by his label to being praised across the globe as a stunning songwriting talent, Benjamin’s gift for weaving story into song is best experienced live.

Grab tickets!

Omar Apollo with ROLE MODEL, Ambar Lucid, Mk.Gee

Genre: DIY musical prodigy whose Spanglish bedroom rock meditations melt hearts

Inspired by the likes of Cuco and John Mayer, Omar Apollo stood out in 2018 as a brilliant illustration of what the future of music looks like. And this spring, he is bringing a fair share of equally talented friends with him on the road for a series of shows that are not to be missed.

Grab tickets!

MorMor

Genre: Versatile psychedelic pop belonging to a world all its own

Toronto singer, producer, and multi-instrumentalist MorMor delivers music without a concert for established trends or conventions. Quite unlike anything we have heard before, it is a sound worth losing yourself in, and the same holds true for his live show.

Grab tickets!

Tom Walker

Genre: World-renowned, critically-acclaimed alternative soul

Tom Walker took home the “British Breakthrough Act” at the 2019 Brit Awards and it is not hard to see why. With a voice that carries a unique emotional gravitas and a critically-acclaimed debut album now under his belt, this is a tour poised to make this British sensation an international one.

Grab tickets!

The Japanese House

Genre: The reason the moniker dream pop exists

The solo project of London-based singer-songwriter Amber Bain, The Japanese House’s music exists in a plane of lush, atmospheric haze. 2019 saw the release of her highly-anticipated debut album, Good At Falling, and as personal fans of every single second of it, we cannot wait to experience it in person.

Grab tickets!

Matt Maeson

Genre: Absolutely haunting songwriting by an enlightened soul

Matt Maeson’s unforgettable songwriting often surrounds itself with themes belonging to the darker side of life, and in doing so, the Chesapeake Bay native paints narrative portraits that are likely to stand the test of time. Set to release his debut album, Bank On The Funeral, ahead of his mostly sold-out, first headlining tour, this may be your last chance to catch Maeson in such an intimate setting.

Grab tickets!

Dennis Lloyd

Genre: Anthemic music that transcends genre

Dennis Lloyd is the very definition of a multi-talented threat. The producer, singer, songwriter, and multi-instrumentality from Tel Aviv ignited a fire with his breakout single, “Nevermind,” a hypnotic track that has been streamed over 450-million times to date. And it is a fire he is keeping ablaze with his follow-up single “Never Go Back” and a series of shows.

Grab tickets!

Lolo Zouaï

Genre: The future sound of pop

Lolo Zouaï is a worldwide phenomenon in the making. The French-Algerian-American trilingual queen makes music informed by her diverse background and upbringing, and the result is a sound that feels wholly refreshing. Zouaï is a name we expect to be seeing a lot more of after this upcoming tour wraps.

Grab tickets!

Picture This

Genre: Anthemic alternative pop with a profound emotional gravity

Picture This is hands down one of Ireland’s hottest musical exports, having claimed the title of the best-selling band in Ireland for two years straight. Now, Picture This is taking their talents worldwide on a monumental North American tour this Spring.

Grab tickets!

Ella Mai with Mahalia

Genre: Commanding UK R&B that is not afraid to bare its soul

What is better than catching one of the best rising artists in the realm of R&B? Catching two of them in fell swoop. Breakout star Ella Mai will be joined by fellow UK R&B phenom Mahalia on ‘The Debut Tour,’ and we could not be more excited.

Grab tickets!

Lennon Stella

Genre: YouTube star turned veritable pop sensation

Ontario, Canada, native Lennon Stella may have first gained international attention covering songs on YouTube with her sister, Maisy, but it is her own works of pop magic that are keeping people hooked. Heading out with Valley and Anne-Marie this spring, we cannot wait to fall under Stella’s pop spell.

Grab tickets!

Soccer Mommy

Genre: Folk-leaning indie rock that sprawls out like a beautifully written diary entry

Soccer Mommy left quite the impression in 2018 as one of the most critically-acclaimed artists of the year. An artist who cut her teeth on the DIY scene and released the phenomenal album that is Clean, we could not be happier to champion this new face of indie rock at every one of her future shows.

Grab tickets!

Dermot Kennedy

Genre: Soulful, poetic, and picturesque songwriting

Dermot Kennedy’s rise over the last few years feels particularly meteoric yet undeniably deserved. The Irish talent simply has the sort of voice you cannot ignore and the songwriting acumen to back up such a commanding voice. It is a voice that when heard live never fails to pierce your heart.

Grab tickets!

LANY

Genre: Breathtaking and exhilarating alternative pop

LANY’s rose era may have to come to an end, but the moon era is everything we could have ever asked for. The band’s latest album to date, Malibu Nights, is pure synth-driven perfection that deserves to be heard live, over and over again.

Grab tickets!

JID

Genre: Hip-hop that is cinematic in scope

There are no two ways about it; JID is one of the most technically and lyrically skilled rappers in the game right now. The Atlanta rapper’s sophomore outing, Dicaprio 2, is an album that launches JID into a pantheon few other hip-hop artists can touch. It also doesn’t hurt that it is filled with music perfect for an explosive live show.

Grab tickets!

Cub Sport

Genre: Pop that carriers with it an irresistible, airy charm

Self-managed, entirely independent, and some of the finest pop out there, Cub Sport is a band that you cannot but help but cheer for. The Australian quartet creates atmospheric pop that sounds like a dream but is deeply rooted in sentimental, often deeply personal songwriting.

Grab tickets!

Olivia O’Brien

Genre: A velvety fusion of atmospheric pop and R&B

Olivia O’Brien first entered the public consciousness with her viral hit “hate u love u,” and her gift for poignant pop songwriting has cemented her as a lasting force in the music world. Hot off the heels of a series of successful singles, 2019 is poised to be a monumental year for this pop powerhouse.

Grab tickets!

Wet with Kilo Kish

Genre: Poignant music that is constantly evolving

Wet and Kilo Kish are two artists who have consistently escaped simple classification, so it only makes sense that they hit the road together this spring. And whether it be the ethereal pop-leaning work of Wet’s early discography or the folk-evoking meditations we were graced with in 2019, we here for every moment of it.

Grab tickets!

Billy Raffoul

Genre: Beautifully unapologetic songwriting for the ages

There is a timeless quality to the music of Billy Raffoul. Through the sole force of his raspy, jaw-dropping voice, Raffoul delivers refreshingly sincere works of sonic art that are minimalistic yet never feel sparse. It is the sort of music that stays with you long after a song fades or the show the finishes.

Grab tickets!

1 note · View note

hippo-euphoria · 6 years ago

Text

Empty Streets and Neon Lights | Bildungsroman Challenge

Hey, so I finally finished the sequel to Sea Turtles, and because it lined up so nicely with the challenge I decided to use this as my submission. I specifically focused on the themes of these quotes:

“I wondered if that’s how forgiveness budded; not with the fanfare of epiphany, but with pain gathering its things, packing up, and slipping away unannounced in the middle of the night.”

- Khaled Hosseini, The Kite Runner

“Because things change. And friends leave. And life doesn’t stop for anybody.”

-Stephen Chbosky, Perks of Being a Wallflower

“You have to accept that sometimes that’s how things happen in this world. People’s opinions, their feelings, they go one way, then the other. It just so happens you grew up at a certain point in this process.”

- Kazuo Ishiguro, Never Let Me Go

Empty Streets and Neon Lights - read on ao3 (can’t link bc of tumblr purge but ( https:// archive of our own .org/works/16758763 ) )

pairings: yoonkook, namjin

word count: 33,931

genre: slow burn, hurt/comfort, light angst

warnings: light angst, sexuality crisis

summary: Jeongguk tries to find his place in Seoul's art scene as well as the balance between JK, the artist, and himself. But how can he do that when he doesn't even know his real self; maybe the real Jeongguk is still in America, reliving all those Moments he's tried so hard to forget, and when his hand hurts too much to actually create anything, can he even call himself an artist?

Jeongguk, a freelance artist, at some sort of science-y convention with his chemist friend, Jimin. He doesn’t want to be here, he finds things like this painfully disinteresting, but Jimin didn’t want to come alone, and Jeongguk supposes he does kind of owe him, seeing as Jimin has attended almost every single one of his pop-up galleries and exhibitions. Also, he promised to buy Jeongguk dinner.

“Stop scowling,” Jimin pinches his arm, creating a briefly noticeable crease on Jeongguk’s nice, situationally appropriate white button-up.

“I’m not,” He hisses, flinching away from Jimin and smoothing over his sleeve.

“You are,” Jimin insists, and he’s honestly probably right. “You look like you hate everyone here because one time you held the door for them and they didn’t say ‘thank you’ or something,” Okay that’s fair.

Jeongguk would’ve been annoyed regardless, he doesn’t understand most of this stuff, so he probably would’ve spent the evening scrolling through various social media platforms and maybe lowkey stalking the couple thousand fans who follow his art instagram. He doesn’t really stalk them, he just goes through and tries to pick out if any of the accounts are other artists or journalists or something along those lines. Anyway, the point is he would’ve been bored if it was any other topic, but this conference is about the ocean, and Jeongguk is leaning more towards irritated rather than passively annoyed.

Jimin conveniently forgot to mention that this conference is geared towards the ocean, finding new ways to clean it up and what not, and Jeongguk hates the ocean, hates the beach. Okay, maybe he doesn’t hate it, he just tries his best to avoid anything to do with the marine world. This all really is a noble cause because yes, the ocean is a mess and could do with some light spring cleaning, but he’d just rather be left out of it all, if he’s being totally honest.

In the art gallery of Jeongguk’s mind, where memories hang like paintings and decorate the hallways - all Good, Bad, and In Between Moments - he doesn’t want to think of the room holding every Moment he wants to forget. A room roped off and where the lights of his consciousness went out years ago and he hasn’t yet bothered to change the bulbs; everything is perpetually dark and dusty, almost each Moment is from his one semester in America. He doesn’t want to remember anything he shoves in that room, but perhaps above all, he doesn’t want to remember the boy with oceans in his eyes.

But here he is, trying to follow Jimin while staring intently at his back or messing around on his phone, anything to ignore the innocent enough posters depicting dolphins leaping from the water, sea turtles on a shore, or shells half-buried in the sand, because each time he catches a glimpse, the lights flicker just the slightest before going dark again.

Jeongguk tried to forget, he really did, but for months after they’d come home, it hurt. He couldn’t visit the beach in the early morning with his mother to pick up shells, he couldn’t tag along with Jimin and their friend group for beach parties or bonfires, all because he couldn’t be there without remembering.

So he tried to bury everything and pretend like America never happened, and eventually succeeded, to a point. After breaking down with Jimin, he began actively forcing away thoughts of him; he buried the memories as deep as he could, and pushed everything into that room in the back of his gallery to be shut away and ignored. But they were still there, and this conference was threatening to bring them up to the surface.

Jimin leads him through a set of double doors into a room where the floor goes from beige tiles to flat carpet that’s got to have a hundred or more chairs, facing an elevated podium. Someone is supposed to speak - there was a poster outside probably, but Jeongguk was too busy focusing on Jimin’s back to notice. They take their seats, choosing the last row because even though Jimin is somewhat small, he doesn’t really need to see the presenter. Also, if they sit in the last row, the pair can whisper to each other without eyes boring into their backs, and Jeongguk can be on his phone without too much judgement. Jeongguk busies himself with a pointless match-three game, the seats fill, and eventually someone steps up to the podium and provides an introduction of the speaker. Jeongguk doesn’t hear the speaker’s name or any of the introduction, probably because he doesn’t care to pay attention, but when he starts talking, Jeongguk recognizes his voice, the lazy syllables all too familiar. Jeongguk’s head jerks up to see none other than Min Yoongi standing at the podium, speaking with the force of the ocean in his words about something - he’s too panicked to listen. His heart stops, Jimin speaks next to him.

“Isn’t that-” Jimin begins asking, then takes one look at Jeongguk’s wide eyes and sudden pallor. “Yeah okay, bathroom,” He whispers and tugs on Jeongguk’s arm, and they sneak out of the lecture and across the convention center to the restrooms. It’s noisy and crowded, people milling around different exhibits and speaking over each other as scientists do when they have a point to prove, and Jeongguk suddenly feels small. As an artist he is very out of his element here. He reaches out a hand to grasp Jimin’s sleeve, and lets himself be led through the maze of bodies, too many wearing white lab coats, and when they finally reach it, Jeongguk locks himself in a stall and dry heaves, nothing comes out.

Jimin leans casually against the sink when Jeongguk lets himself out of the stall, arms crossed and eyes holding thinly veiled concern.

“You okay?” Jeongguk shakes his head and proceeds to splash cold water on his face because maybe this is all a horribly fucked up dream or like, three nightmares in one. “Thought so, I really can’t leave, but how about you take an uber home and I’ll see you there?”

Jeongguk nods. It’s not like he really has a choice, because Jimin had apparently already ordered the car and it’s there by the time Jeongguk composes himself enough to exit the bathroom - Jimin had locked it, much to the dismay of other attendants; Jeongguk tries not to think of the assumptions behind two men locking themselves in the bathroom, about how that looks to everyone else. He sends Jeongguk off with a gentle squeeze to the swell of his shoulder, and then Jeongguk watches through the window as he rushes back up the stone steps, probably back to the presentation. He leans his head against the glass as the city passes by, street lights and skyscrapers and nameless, faceless strangers all merging together into one stereotypical young adult novel introduction. Rain drizzles gently, fat drops rolling lazily down the windshield, and Jeongguk loses himself watching their trails. He thinks back to when he was a kid, and he would imagine the drops to be racing one another.

“Rough night?” The driver - a brunette woman with her hair cut to a short bob - asks, eyes meeting his in the rearview mirror.

“Something like that,” He mumbles, leaning forward and pressing his head against the back of the passenger seat.

“A girl?” She asks, and he grunts in disagreement. “Oh, a guy?” This is Korea, Jeongguk should not have boy troubles.

“Mhm,” She laughs quietly. “How’d you guess?”

“You look like you’ve just had your heart broken,” No, he just saw the person who broke it years ago for the first time, and he thought he’d gotten over it; but maybe he didn’t, maybe seeing Yoongi up there on the podium lit his gallery like a Christmas tree and broke it all over again. He doesn’t answer because Uber rides aren’t supposed to include personal conversation, and she turns on the radio to fill the silence.

By the time he’s left in front of the apartment he shares with Jimin, the rain has stopped, the air is muggy and thick, and the wet pavement appears to give off its own light as it reflects street lamps and headlights. It’s the type of night he could get lost in, where he could walk around for hours just thinking, but he’s exhausted, and he’s seen enough dramas to know what happens when you walk the streets and a past love happens to be in the city, so he sighs and walks up the steps, buzzing to let himself into the complex and taking the stairs up to the fourth floor, where he kicks off his loafers and collapses on the couch.

For months, everything he painted had to do with the ocean. Animals, landscapes, everything had some connection to the marine world, to Yoongi, and he hated it because somehow each piece was perfect. As a college junior, some of his pieces were being featured in actual galleries, not the mock presentations all students participated in, ones where people paid to see his work.

His best work was a landscape of the beach at night, with soft moonlight illuminating ocean swells and the beach vegetation appearing to sway gently and stars dotting the night sky - people loved it, called it surreal, hyperrealistic, a masterpiece. He’d spent weeks working on it, and apparently his dedication showed, because people told him how beautiful it was, how they could imagine themselves in the scene, and Jeongguk had to bite his tongue because no, they couldn’t. Jimin was the only one with context, and after he saw the painting for the first time, he sighed and helped cover it with a sheet and lean it carefully against the wall, where it remained until it was time for showing.

Everyone loved it, but Jeongguk hated it because Yoongi was in every fucking stroke - and though Jimin too thought it was beautiful, he hated it right along with him because that’s what friends are for. He received his highest mark on that painting, and his professor recommended it for an exhibition, and Jeongguk spent the entire night outside, a glass of champagne abandoned on the railing next to him because he couldn’t bear to go inside and see his own work with a small plaque next to it reading:

Title: Confession

Artist: JK

Medium: Watercolor

So he waited outside, nameless faces approached and complimented him, and when it was finally over and everything was being cleaned up and put away, he went in to find a small pink tag hanging off his plaque - someone had made an offer. He didn’t ask who or how much, just let employees take it away, he never wanted to see it again.

When Jimin returns nearly two hours later, Jeongguk is sitting alone at their four person dining table with an open bottle of wine and wine glass in front of him; he’s both the optimist and the pessimist: the bottle is half empty, his glass is half full. This is a Bad Moment, he’s just tipsy enough that the earlier shock of seeing Yoongi has ebbed away, and his eyes droop just barely; Jimin sighs when he sees him.

“That bad?” He asks, stepping out of his shoes and into a pair of slippers.

“Mhm,” Jeongguk hums, swirling his glass. Jimin simply shakes his head, then goes into the kitchen and retrieves a glass for himself. He sits across from Jeongguk and tips the wine into his glass, filling it halfway.

“I had no idea he’d be there,” Jimin says after a moment of contented silence - well, it’s contented on Jeongguk’s end, anyway.

“It’s fine, I don’t blame you,” He takes a sip of his wine, wincing slightly at the bitterness.

They’re drinking a cheap red tonight out of stemmed wine glasses, which isn’t right honestly, because red is supposed to be drank from stemless glasses, as it’s served room temperature. White wine is meant to be served chilled, and is drank from stemmed glasses to keep it from getting warm from being held.

“I thought you got over him,” Jimin says, and Jeongguk knows he’s been waiting until the right time to broach the subject of himself and Yoongi and what exactly happened way back then, what better time than now?

“I wanted to but, I just kinda, buried it all, you know?” He takes a long drink from his glass, draining it despite the bitterness and reaching for the bottle, to pour himself another glass. “I didn’t want to think about him, about any of that.”

“You know that’s not how you deal with things, this isn’t how you deal with things,” Jimin leans his glass forward, and Jeongguk clinks his glass against it even though there’s nothing to be toasting.

“I know, but it’s easier.”

“So, we’re back at square one, then. Do you still have a thing for him?” Jeongguk pretends he doesn’t hear the question, instead he lays his arm out across the table, resting his head on it as his other hand toys with the edge of the wine glass. “Jeongguk, we need to talk about this.”

“I hate him,” Yoongi has made it to where Jeongguk, born in Busan, can’t be near the ocean. Can’t even think about it.

“So you do.”

“I don’t know.”

“Let’s go to bed,” Jimin hasn’t even touched his wine, he takes both glasses and dumps them down the sink, then shoves the cork back in the dark bottle and puts in the refrigerator. Jeongguk slides out of his seat and heads to his bedroom, where he collapses into the comforting security only his bed can provide.

Jimin comes in, sighs, and makes Jeongguk get up and undress because apparently it’s not a good idea to sleep in a button-up and slacks. He sits on the edge of Jeongguk’s bed, speaking mostly to himself.

“It’s fine that you hate him, I mean, no one can control that. But you gotta get over him, you can’t let what happened control you. I know a lot of your best art came out of it, but I mean, come on, when was the last time you went to the beach? Hell, the last time you even dated someone?”

Jeongguk hasn’t dated anyone since Yoongi, hasn’t dated anyone in six years. He can’t. He’s still stuck and maybe a little bit afraid when it comes to the topic of his romantic life, and that’s because after all these years, he still hasn’t figured himself out. Is he straight? Gay? Both? Neither? He doesn’t know, he hasn’t tried to find out. He slept with one girl when he came back, one, and the entire time he wasn’t thinking about her, but am I gay? He can’t, not completely if he made out with a guy more than once. But he’s tired, in no mood to deal with these thoughts right now, so he listens to Jimin talk speak and his eyes droop steadily. Before he’s out completely, Jimin tugs his duvet over him. He’s a good friend, Jeongguk should keep him around.

continue reading on ao3 - Empty Streets and Neon Lights by sleepy_time_tea ( https:// archive of our own .org/works/16758763 )

5 notes · View notes

iambwhatiamb · 6 years ago

Text

Dialogue

"Ugh, but did you see them?"

"You're like a five-year-old. Yes, I saw them: I was there."

"They're so beautiful. I'm actually gonna die."

"Please don't. Imagine having to explain that your best friend fangirled to death."

"My heart is literally trying to jump out of my chest."

"I can see the headline now: A Chicago teen is in intensive care after overfangirling at a Q&A panel."

"It wasn't just a Q&A panel. It was the Q&A panel."

"My god, you're serious."

"I was so close! I was so close, I could've touched them!"

"We were in the fourth row back and they were on stage, so how about no."

"Okay, but like... god, they were so beautiful. I'd marry that entire cast."

"Including the drone?"

"Especially the drone. Did you see those mechanics?"

"As you keep conveniently forgetting, I was sitting next to you. Yes, I saw."

"Literally nothing else in my life matters right now. I could drop dead this second and I'd go down with a smile."

"Goodness. I'm sure what's-his-face would show up at the funeral."

"Do you really think so?"

"No. I was joking– for god's sake, put that knife down!"

"If they come to my funeral–"

"Drop the knife. I won't come to your funeral if... oh, just quit twirling!"

"I can't help it! I have so much energy. I'm never going to sleep again!"

"I assume you're never going to wash that shoulder again while you're at it."

"Because she bumped me! She bumped into me. I couldn't... I didn't..."

"You were totally starstruck. I saw. I thought you were drunk, you could barely walk afterwards.

"Who needs alcohol when you've got adrenaline? Whee!"

"You were bumped into and you got to ask a question. Whoop-dee-do."

"I know. My life is complete."

"See, I was being sarcastic and you're being serious."

"How can I not be serious? I got to see the most perfect people on the planet in person!"

"Get off the table. You're being weird."

"I'm being happy. I'm being thrilled. I'm being overjoyed that I was in that room."

"Yeah, but it was two days ago."

"So? I'm still gonna be bragging about it on my deathbed."

"You're in a morbid mood today."

"After seeing them, all that's left to confront is my own mortality."

"Deep. And creepy."

"But they were so precious! I want to adopt them all and care for them forever."

"I thought you were going to marry them?"

"I'll do both!"

"See, now that's weird."

"I'm actually crying right now at how amazing they were. Look, tears."

"Get out of my face, I can see them."

"I can't believe I saw the entire cast. I bet Robert Downey Jr.'s tears taste like unicorns."

"They probably taste like salt and ego. Why would you want to drink his tears?"

"I just want to touch him. Them. Any of them. I'm not picky."

"They're like three times your age."

"And sooooo hot!"

"What's the opposite of a cougar? You're that."

"I don't– woah!"

"See, now, that was stupid."

"Owwwww."

"Get over yourself. You're fine. I'll get you an ice pack."

"Thanks, bestie."

"You're literally acting drunk right now. It's been two days."

"Maybe I'm drunk off the fumes of pure awesomeness!"

"So, first, that's not how it works."

"What's second?"

"There is no second. That's it."

"Boo, boring."

"Stop. There's no music. You don't get to dance if there's no music."

"Boring!"

"As boring as Mr. Rosenthal?

"Don't even get me started. Literally nothing is as boring as Rosenthal."

"Go on."

"I mean, he gives us some bio assignment that takes ten minutes and leaves us alone for an hour!"

"It sucks."

"It totally– hey, wait."

"Hmm?"

"You're distracting me!"

"Whaaaaat? No way."

"Yeah, I was talking about how freaking amazing Chris Evans is– did you see his arms?"

"For the last time, I was there."

"He's so totally beautiful."

"Weren't you on about Robert Downey Jr.?"

"I mean, yeah, but I want them all."

"Like Pokémon."

"Yeah, kinda."

"If only you could encounter celebrities in the wild as often as you find Pokémon."

"I would pull an Ash Ketchum and leave my home to wander the woods forever if it meant I could run into Tom Holland."

"What about Chris Evans?"

"I'm flighty. Don't judge me."

"You're fantasizing about marrying and adopting an entire team of Avengers. Yeah, I'm judging."

"You're such a mom-friend."

"If I'm a mom friend, it's only because you're acting like a child."

"Okay, that was good. Feel free to drop a mic and walk away."

"I would, but I don't want to imagine what you'd get up to without supervision."

"I'm a strong, independent woman who don't need no man."

"Double negative. And what about all the men you've been fangirling over all weekend?"

"I'm a strong, independent woman, who doesn't need any men with a few notable exceptions."

"Better."

"I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry. I'm amazed you're as skinny as you are."

"Aw, babe!"

"Just a comment, not a compliment."

"Awww..."

"Ugh, don't do the puppy eyes. Now I feel bad."

"See? I win. I could be a politician."

"Would your inauguration speech just be you staring pitifully at the camera?"

"Yep!"

"Awesome. You've got my vote."

"Wait, how old do you have to be to run for president?"

"Thirty-five, I think. Just another two decades to go."

"Oh, yeah! I'd run on a platform of cupcakes for everyone!"

"Good lord, you're actually Pinkie Pie."

"Who?"

"From My Little Pony? She's bright pink, hyperactive, and defies all laws of physics."

"So, my spirit animal?"

"Basically. She's got some good songs, too."

"Wait, since when do you watch My Little Pony?"

"I babysit, don't I? Every kids' show ever has made its way into my nightmares. I swear, if I hear the theme song for Sophia the First one more time..."

"Maybe don't finish that sentence in front of the kids you babysit."

"Yeah, I've essentially had to swear off swearing so that I don't let slip a no-no word."

"Oh my god, a no-no word? That's fabulous!"

"And hard to avoid. I've got a sailor's vocabulary, you know that."

"Hey, I only know that I know nothing."

"Getting all paradoxical up in here, I see."

"Cornish pixies!"

"What the f–fluff? Why are you talking about Cornish pixies?"

"Well, I was thinking about the panel again, and so I started thinking about Loki, and then Tom Hiddleston, and how he's so British, so then I started thinking about Harry Potter because, duh, it's my life, and in the second book, you know how Gilderoy Lockhart is all like hey guys check out these dope Cornish pixies?"

"Obviously."

"And thus, Cornish pixies."

"You are the fangirliest fangirl I've ever laid eyes on. And I've laid eyes on a lot."

"Okay, but when I'm talking about, like, school or something, I'm normal, right?"

"Except for Mondays. Your freakish cheerfulness on Monday mornings is definitively not normal."

"Just because you're an actual zombie in the mornings–"

"Can you blame me?"

"A hundred percent. You're a big girl now, you should know to go to bed earlier."

"Who's the mom friend now?"

"As an annoying know-it-all once said: If I'm a mom friend, it's because you're being a child."

"What a wise quote. Whoever said that is probably a genius."

"And has like, zero emotions."

"Okay, hang on. Yes, I'm apathetic–"

"Did you just say you're pathetic?"

"No–"

"Because I, like, totally agree."

"As I was saying. Maybe I'm a little apathetic, but that's why we work well together, right? You tend to overflow with every emotion ever."

"I so don't do that."

"Girl, you started crying because that puppy yesterday was really cute."

"Because it was."

"It was animated. You started crying at the animated cartoon puppy."

"Animated puppies are still cute! All puppies are created equal. Down with the pup-triarchy!"

"Let's focus on people first before we get into dog politics."

"Ugh, people are stupid."

"Only stupid people get frustrated by the incompetence of others."

"What?"

"I was trying to modify the phrase 'only boring people get bored' but it didn't really work."

"Damn right it didn't, girlfriend."

"Anyways, you said you were hungry?"

"I did?"

"Didn't you? Like ten minutes ago."

"Ohhhhh, right! Yeah, I'm still hungry."

"Let's fix that, shall we? I suggest tacos."

"You know me so well. Let's do it."

#fiction #writing #creative #poetry #story #writeblr #poets on tumblr #iambwhatiamb

1 note · View note

hopevalley · 6 years ago

Text

WCTH Write-Ups: 1.5, “The Dance”

Good morning, and welcome to another episode write-up! Two in a row! I feel like I’m on a roll, here!

In the last episode, we saw answers to a lot of questions, mostly in regards to the church fire. Cat was innocent, the fire was an accident, and Mr. Spurlock framed Cat out of bitter spite because she told him she wasn’t interested in him.

In this episode, the town finally gets some new miners!

12 of them, to be exact. This doesn’t even come close to replacing the 47 who died, but I guess it’s a start? Anyway, they’re not too happy about walking into the saloon only to find it’s inhabited by a whole classroom.

“We’ve spent six days crossing this cursed country. We came a long way to work in this mine. Least we can get is a drink.” Six days? That’s it? I mean, that’s nothing compared to how most of these people got out here. They were probably able to take a train and then get wagons instead of having to cross it all by horse, so... I don’t know. Six days is nothing. Try six months of travel and then I’d feel like you deserved a drink.

“Company’s just hiring single men.” Gee I wonder why. Maybe that has something to do with it being cheaper and easier, and they can house ‘em in the saloon rooms in smallish groups. I mean, there can only be so many rooms up there... Maybe 3? That puts four men to a room up there...

Anyway, I love Emily Dickinson so much, and for an episode to start with one of her poems is lovely. Billy Hamilton might be scummy, but Andrew Walker, his actor, does a beautiful delivery of the first stanza.

“Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all -

First of all, this poem is a delightful addition to the series, but I don’t think that its theme should be overlooked. This is a poem about hope, but the series itself isn’t just about the general concept of hope, it’s about...the kind of hope that you feel through the worst times in your life, that protects you, that gets you through the storm; it’s about...hope everlasting. So it’s really fitting that it’s here, but I think with all of the other things that go on, it’s easily passed over.

Also, Billy is a smoooooth criminal... Calling her professor... That’d make me feel special, too. ;)

Anyway, Abigail returns for this episode, and we see a bunch of town women coming together to unravel sweaters to repurpose for baby blankets and clothes for Carla, a very pregnant lady.

Also present are Florence, Elizabeth, Cat, Mary, and someone I don’t know.

“My husband wasn’t a chivalrous man, but he provided just fine for Caleb and me.”

I just want to say that I enjoy Mary’s character a lot. We don’t really see anyone else like her for the rest of the series, so it’s sad for me that after her little plotline wrapped up, she left the series.

Most of these women are able to admit to their husbands’ faults in, perhaps, more private company, but I think Mary’s admission is realistic and to-the-point. Her husband wasn’t much of a romantic, or maybe even a good lover, but he did all right as a provider and that was good enough. These days we might find it really sad to think about—I know I do—but in 1910 things would have been a lot different for these women. A reasonably good provider was about as good as it got, sometimes.

And Abigail echoes Mary’s point:

“You’re right, Mary. We all know how hard it is to find a good man.”

And then Carla: “Or a good father for our children.”

That they have to sometimes choose whether he’s a good husband, good lover, good provider, or good father is just awful. But that’s that on that, I guess. 1910, everybody!

Carla’s definitely at that late part of pregnancy where everything hurts and nothing is comfortable and sleeping is basically impossible. Doubly so for her because she has a little boy to take care of already, so it’s not as if she can take a nap whenever the mood strikes!

“Mounties and marriage: two subjects that don’t go together. At the academy they told us, if the Mounties wanted you to have a wife, we would have issued you one.”

Watching Jack put his foot into his mouth at the speed of light should be a little fun, and I know when I first saw this episode I was amused, but this is my fourth or fifth time watching this episode... Now I can’t help but think that this kind of...set up is actually an ongoing problem in the series. That is to say, Jack didn’t actually say anything bad? Anything unreasonable? Elizabeth literally just twisted his words to make what he said sound worse. I mean, women aren’t delicate, but he can’t exactly come out and say, “If a woman wants to pee she has to sit down or squat, and out in the wilderness with other men/soldiers around, it’s not exactly conducive to cultivating a full and loving marriage.” Or, “Imagine being pregnant out there with no help for miles if something goes wrong, or when you need to deliver.”

Jack is being perfectly reasonable and he’s saying it in a way that gives the audience the idea that he was hoping to make Elizabeth laugh. But she doesn’t laugh, and the narrative, since it mostly follows her around (even the music does this), suggests that he’s some kind of vaguely misogynistic guy who underestimates women’s skill and ability or even their perseverance.

Sound familiar?

Yeah, it sounds like s4 and s5 Bill Avery, right? Consistently painted as unreasonable for overestimating women. Even though nothing about Bill’s personality in the early seasons would suggest he is that type of person at all.

Well, I guess they had to pass Forced Foot in Mouth Syndrome onto someone. (And the really nasty part of me can’t help but think that Jack is kind of a victim of this literal writing disease for quite some time... I wonder if or how much this played into Dan’s choice to leave the series, in the end?)

But that’s just speculation.

Anyway, that whole scene can be summed up as “Elizabeth fishes for a date and pulls out the wrong fish. Maybe. Flings it back into the sea.”

Listen, we’ve all been Mary at some point; we’ve all done something completely embarrassing in a store and wanted the ground to swallow us up. Luckily for her, a reasonable looking man helps her pick up the mess and introduces himself as Dewitt Graves.

This scene is actually like, several levels of good, because even the music changes to accommodate a feeling, in this case, Mary at the counter being told her tab is full. Nobody gets mad at Ned over this, but I wish they did; heck, I honestly wish he had his own plotline. But the way the camera pans to Florence while the piano plays is just so...awful. I mean, sure, we know Florence is going to gossip about this incident, but in this particular moment what’s highlighted by the narrative presentation is Mary’s situation. We’ve probably all been there, too: had a card declined, or a card reader couldn’t read it at least. It’s awful, and it’s much worse for Mary. How’s she going to pay that tab off? (I also noticed the yarn in her basket... I wonder if it was to make something for Carla’s baby...)

It’s Mr. Graves to the rescue! Thank goodness. Even that scene is awkward and embarrassing...but at least she didn’t have to put everything back.

*Ned is the company store owner, so seeing him transition to a regular mercantile would be super, super cool. Plus he wouldn’t be a very popular person in town since he has to balance store credit and can’t do much more than the company policy allows him to, so that would have been a really fun plot to have.

Albert and Caleb interacting is another good scene, because Caleb gets to complain a bit about his family’s situation, and Albert gets to be understanding (and actually in more than just the episode he was introduced in, which sounds goofy but we need to be thankful for the little things).

We also find out that Mary’s a pretty good cook.

After a couple of episodes without Abigail, it’s nice to see her back, and her patience is literally unmatched. I howled with laughter when a coworker told me he wanted to plant pickles in his garden; he had no idea that pickles came from cucumbers!! Literally no idea. NONE. I could not contain my amusement. But Abigail is kind to Elizabeth and instead of mocking her ignorance, she makes each new thing into a learning experience. And Elizabeth takes it in stride and even mocks her own ignorance a little bit.

“At home they were just in the serving dish... magically.” A shared joke; this was honestly and truly pretty cute.

Florence just barging into Abigail’s place out of nowhere was hilariously in character, but hey, she’s come with that hot goss so I guess that’s almost like she’s got a key. ;)

I love how Abigail doesn’t rise to the lure of gossip, though, and is just...practical about the situation? Mary’s had it harder than most, so it was nice of that man to buy her groceries.

“I don’t think we can judge each other’s circumstances, Florence.”

“Are you ready to forget your Noah?”

“I will never forget my Noah, but at some point life goes on. For all of us. For you, too.”

And then Carla falls in the front door crying out for Abigail, kind of ruining this scene, or shunting it into the background.

Honestly, and again, this is the Abigail I loved as a character. She was good, but she wasn’t perfect, and her advice was always pretty gentle. I think she could have delivered it a little better, but she’s not wrong. Life does go on. But it made me think of Florence in s5, when Laura and Bill returned the note from the coat pocket to her. We learn about Florence so slowly that it’s wild to think at this point in the story we don’t really know her. She was madly in love with her Paul, and we know he adored her, too.

I never got the feeling that Abigail felt that way about Noah, but something I’m more than willing to praise this show for is its diverse showcasing of relationships. Not every marriage was one of love at this time, and not every marriage that started out with love stayed that way. That’s still true today, though, isn’t it?

Anyway, these women oftentimes couldn’t support themselves, so relationships were their best bet. And I love that Abigail takes Mary’s side; it’s not fair to judge. As we see later in this episode, Mary’s position is difficult.

But back to this scene: when Carla needs help, even Florence rushes to help her and reassure her.

This is the good stuff, you know what I mean? Abigail offering to let Carla move in for a while, Florence reassuring her that someone will look after her older boy, Elizabeth touched and moved by how these women step up and help one another.

“They go through life with such grace under fire. It makes me realize just how little I actually know about the real world. These women are teaching me by their example that when each of us offers a small kindness to a neighbor, it can become a very large blessing to the whole community.”

Like, Elizabeth isn’t stupid. She might be ignorant about how much work goes into making pickles, but she’s observant and willing to learn. In Elizabeth’s former life, she had no reason to think about these sorts of things; what ‘small kindness’ would she have offered her Hamilton neighbors? What kind of ‘community’ was she a part of there? It was a very different place and a different way of living. Here, in Coal Valley, small kindnesses oftentimes go a long way. People don’t have much; sometimes small kindnesses are all they have to give.

I really loved the touch of Mr. Backus showing the guys around a bit...recommending they all become a teetotaler (sober) like him. It’s not a long scene for him, but he’s clear-headed and obviously making an effort to improve himself...and he’s happy with that decision. It’s also kind of cool that he goes over to hang with Jack a bit afterward and have a drink of coffee.

Anyway, Billy puts on those smooth moves again with Elizabeth, and of course they work. He keeps it pretty low-key, though. And he doesn’t finish the poem. :(

Jack’s suspicion of him is kind of...eh. The guy hones in on Elizabeth but like, she’s the only really young woman in town that we’ve seen. Mary might be the next oldest? It’s hard to say.

Anyway, any sane young miner would have the hots for Elizabeth... Just sayin’.

The real question is: who is that curly haired guy and why didn’t he stick around?

I still really enjoyed Sam (the miner that Jack locked up) telling him that night in the jail was actually “kind of peaceful.” I’m pretty sure this is when Jack decides to move into the jail.

James, the former school bully, asks Caleb about his mom’s attempt to get a new husband, which of course Caleb denies.

I had to look James up to see if he was supposed to be the son of a character we know, and...I don’t think he is. His last name is Fermont. Maybe he’s the son of the unknown dark-haired woman who was at Abigail’s house for the sewing circle?

Anyway, there’s something to be said, again, about Ned.

He handles all telegrams so he knows everyone’s business. Even police business. It’s wild that he doesn’t have a larger role in the story at any point, and has never had his own arc.

“No one’s ever called me Mr. Graves.”

He’s charming. You know, he’s not the most attractive guy ever, but he’s a good person and he’s got a nice sense of humor and he’s humble. I liked Dewitt a lot from the start. And y’know what else I like? That he looks a mess after a day in the mine. You know this guy works hard and he’s tired as heck and all the lines in his face took 10x worse with the coal dust, and... Just... He could be a real person.

And he clearly thinks Mary is cute and sweet as heck. I love her hesitation, though; she’s not sure what she should do, but she invites him to dinner because it’s what’s best for everybody.

“I know it’s making me a better person.” Elizabeth wanting to be a better person is great, too.

Jack’s intrusion and comments are so pointed though. “All you need is good aim.” I mean, also, I don’t know that he ever is shown going hunting again? Huh.

Anyway, Billy starts pushing a little more seriously; and Elizabeth doesn’t quite accept the bait. She admits she has dreams but says, “Dreams are like birthday wishes. Say them aloud and they might not come true.”

And then we get the part of the season that drives me bonkers: the poem that Billy gives to Elizabeth and claims as his own.

I wrote an entire post about how this drove me nuts, so I won’t repeat too much of it here, but c’mon. This is a famous ballad that Elizabeth probably grew up playing on the piano, or at least singing ‘round the piano. I find it really hard to believe she wouldn’t immediately know that he didn’t write it.

I mean, she does say, “It’s very familiar... I can’t place the poet, though.” But the fact that she doesn’t remain suspicious about that is wild.

On the plus side, Andrew Walker has such a blessed ability for reciting poetry. I wouldn’t have minded hearing him recite more. He’s good.

I think with a little tweaking, I could have found this whole thing a bit more believable; maybe a different poem, one that she probably wouldn’t have had such an exposure to. Something more...obscure that she probably did read in the last few years, but which might have been easily forgotten in her studies. Not something she probably grew up singing? I don’t know.

I guess I just gotta give the writers credit for the way Billy tries to push off her feeling that it’s familiar with humor/romance and she just goes with it.

Listen, Dewitt is a good man. He doesn’t push Mary’s boundaries, he apologizes easily, he shows an understanding of Caleb’s situation, he waits for Mary to be seated before he sits, he’s genuinely sorry about taking the wrong hook on the wall...

I was frustrated with Caleb watching it, but I totally got it.

I think my favorite thing about this scene is that when Dewitt asks Mary to the dance (in this roundabout awkward kind of adorable way), she says she honored but asks to have time to think about it, and he’s fine with that.

“That’s all a man can ask for, is a little bit of hope.”

It’s sweet, but it’s not over the top.

Mary’s conversation with Caleb is a little sad...but I feel like he’s just too young to really understand what it is she’s saying when she tells him: “Things don’t always turn out the way we want them to. Now, I’m your mama, and I’m going to do what I have to do for our family.” And then, a little bit later, “I need to look out for our future now. It’s what I’m doing as your mom. And you need to understand that.”

Clearly she’s trying to say, “I can’t provide for us by myself. I need a man and it’s not what I want to have to resort to, but that’s just how it is. It sucks but you need to understand that I don’t have a choice.”

I mean, we’ve seen her situation: the tab is full at the company store, she’s relying on Caleb to catch fish just to have something to eat that isn’t potato soup, and without store credit even potato soup is off the menu. How are they going to last the winter?

In its own way, the whole situation is tragic. Even if Mary wasn’t madly in love with her husband, that doesn’t mean she doesn’t want the time to grieve properly. Unfortunately her feelings aren’t allowed to matter; she can’t let them. She has to do what she can to ensure that her son has a future.

Something I don’t like about this episode is the suggestion that the town had a midwife “for years” who “left after the mining accident.” It’s one of those situations that might have been best left alone. I would have preferred that Abigail be an unofficial midwife or something, or even a short discussion about how their supposed midwife was just a woman who had birthed six children or eight children in her younger years and had experience and was better than no one at all.

The only reason I can think of that a midwife would leave town would be if she was afraid the town’s infrastructure would collapse and it would die. But eh. I think the worldbuilding around this midwife is extremely fragile and not very well-done. At least it was mentioned? I don’t know.

The Elizabeth/Jack conversation about Billy is kind of painful...and again we have Jack flinging his foot down his own windpipe... Sigh. The more it happens the less I like it.

That’s all I can really say right now.

Elizabeth’s conversation with Mary is... I don’t know. It’s heavy. Not gonna lie, I wanted to see Mary all done up. That said, it’s probably for the best that Elizabeth brought up Caleb and ruined the moment.

Mary tries to be frank with Elizabeth about her situation:

Mr. Graves is a good man

I think he may care for me

I didn’t think another man would ever pay attention to me again

I’m not willing to waste another minute frittering away my son’s future when this could be a chance for us.

Elizabeth says she “understands” to which Mary says, “I don’t think you do understand. You were raised with all of the options in the world available to you, and I have next to nothing.”

Mary isn’t wrong, and this is something I like about the early episodes; Elizabeth has GOOD INTENTIONS by saying she “understands” but there’s no way she fully can. She can’t really grasp what Mary is going through, not fully. It’s a shame because Elizabeth really didn’t mean any harm by it; she also really did want Mary to wear a pretty dress! But Elizabeth’s worry about Caleb came at the expense of her worry for Mary, and what that did was alienate Mary from feeling like she could rely on Elizabeth.

This is the kind of “miscommunication” that is believable and real, and that I wish the show had continued to utilize where it matters.

And here we’ve got it... Florence busts into the jail where Jack is and tells him that someone stole her late husband’s gold watch.

“Someone broke into your house?”

“Right in the middle of the night with my child slumbering nearby!”

Missing is: gold watch, cufflinks. Both out of her top dresser drawer.

Well, Florence has a child. Apparently. I don’t think we ever find out who the child is, let alone see them. I’m pretty sure this ends up retconned by the end of the first season/at the beginning of the second. Unless Florence’s “child” is a cat.

Anyway, something I do appreciate? That Florence is asked to keep quiet about this (so that the thief doesn’t get nervous and skip town) and...she actually...does so.

I find it hard to believe that the entire class would panic over a snake, but okay.

Caleb’s talk with Elizabeth is nice. She’s not always very good at talking to other adults about their pain, but I think she’s pretty good with the kids. Adults can’t help but see hidden meanings and nuance in everything; kids tend to just hear the words that are said.

Anyway, Caleb’s struggle with the memories, with the idea that maybe for his mom memories are painful, but for him they’re all good... That gets me a little in the feelings. And how Elizabeth just jumps in to let Caleb talk about his dad by asking what he was like... Man, she really is pretty good with the children. They need to grieve too, and oftentimes it’s in a way that’s different to how we as adults get through it. Her place as a bit of an outsider lets her ask these questions without any issue.

And Caleb doesn’t say anything, you know, revolutionary about his pa. He just says that he was tall and strong and funny, he liked to sing and whistle and fish, and they cooked fish together on the riverbank after they caught ‘em. “Nobody can replace him... Nobody.”

Abigail goes to the dance with Carla’s instructions to dance a waltz for her (which Abigail does, with Mr. Backus) and a promise to return soon.

Last year I made a post about how this dance is a great example of the magic of season one and I don’t want to repeat it too much here, but in the first few seconds you get an idea of how well off people are financially just based on what they wear; you see Cat and Ned as part of the musical trio who is playing. You see the younger women with their hair down or partially down and all the older women with their hair up and you see Abigail take charge to get the party started (this would be more or less her job as the highest ranked mine employee’s wife).

Even cooler, some kids did come to the party. The dances are short. The second the waltz comes on Abigail gets the dance she told Carla she’d get, and Elizabeth comes into the room with Billy Hamilton.

And then Caleb shows up in his dad’s coat.

Which gets me right in the feelings every time, but the best part about it is that, at first nobody even really notices he’s there; the other kids don’t mock him or anything. Everyone is just...touched when he cuts in on his mom’s dance with Dewitt.

And Dewitt bows out gracefully--and a few people seem touched by it but most people are wrapped up in their own dance and a big deal isn’t made of it. It’s just a nice, short, surprisingly touching scene.

The episode ends with Carla in labor, Billy being sweet on Elizabeth, and Jack getting a telegram that says the company Billy claims to have worked for...has never heard of him.

DUN DUN DUN...

Overall Thoughts:

The plot in this episode is a lot calmer than before. We have small things going on, but the big plot was definitely the concept of ‘moving on’ and of, I guess, doing what needs to be done—or at least respecting other people’s decision to do so.

I don’t actually have a lot of thoughts? I guess I sat around going, “Wow there are a lot of people named William in this series who go by something else I guess.”

But other than that, I was pretty much satisfied with this plot. Very little about it annoyed me or made me want to do editing. I really enjoy Mary as a character, too; her motivations are unique to her in this show and I wish they had been a little more thoroughly explored overall, but we get a decent amount of attention on her for a background character! (Still, her story alone could be almost its own novel.)

To end, how about the entirety of that Dickinson poem, hm?

“Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all - And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm - I’ve heard it in the chillest land - And on the strangest Sea - Yet - never - in Extremity, It asked a crumb - of me.

(314) Emily Dickinson

See you all again next episode!

#when calls the heart #season 1 #abigail stanton #mary dunbar #dewitt graves #caleb dunbar #elizabeth thatcher #jack thornton #billy hamilton #analysis and meta discussion #character studies and information

1 note · View note