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jeonqkooks · 2 years ago

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our beloved summer (05) | jjk

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn't as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, drinking, swearing, crying, Sad Boy JK Hours ??, valentino!yoongi bc that should be a whole warning 🥵 even though he's there and not really there for literally 2 seconds lol

rating: PG-15

word count: 9.5k

note: this is the most stressed out i've ever been while trying to post a fic 💀 argh anyway, 2 obs updates in one month ?? is this even real life !! consider this a (lunar) new year's present from me to everyone who celebrates it and also to everyone who doesn't !! idk i'm bad at notes and i'm delirious so that's it 😗

series masterpost / main playlist ; interactive playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

Hey, I feel like if we gave it one night You'd hate me less and make it alright Just wish that we could fight now I'd hold you on the comedown

Rockland - Gracie Abrams

One thing about you, is that you don’t do well with change.

After you moved out of the first apartment you got as an adult, you constantly went back to your old neighborhood even though it wasn’t close to your new place. You kept walking those familiar streets, kept shopping at the stores where the workers knew your name. At night, you still pictured yourself living there, with all of your furniture and clothes and decorations that you’ve already emptied from those old bones. Then, you imagined what the new tenant was like, if they could feel the lingering love you had for that apartment. You wondered if they were putting the coffee table you left behind to good use, or if they thought that it looked out of place among all of their belongings and had already thrown it away.

Jimin called you weird for that, but he didn’t know that you always leave a piece of yourself everywhere you go. The biggest pieces, you think, are hidden somewhere in a closet in your childhood bedroom where your mother still lives, and in the tiny space of your dorm room where you spent most of your college years.

It took you more than half a year to finally start considering your new apartment home.

Because you hate change. Change is scary. Change is walking into a pitch-black tunnel with no flashlight, not knowing what awaits you in the darkness and not knowing if you’ll make it to the other side.

That isn’t to say that change is inherently bad. You’ve experienced good changes before. Arguably, Jungkook was a good change when he went from someone you couldn’t tolerate, to the love of your life back then. You were happy with him, so blissfully happy that for a while, you forgot what it was like to experience any other emotion.

Yoongi has always been your friend. It didn’t take you two very long to become well acquainted with one another and from there, develop a good friendship. You have never thought of him as anything other than a friend. Even when he was your boss, he still felt more like a friend.

As you sit next to him in a bar too empty for your liking – but seems right for a Tuesday night – you feel a palpable shift between the two of you.

When your phone vibrates with a notification, you glance at it only to exhale annoyedly – unclear whether this frustration is directed toward yourself, or the person blowing up your mobile; maybe it’s both. That’s the nth message that Jungkook has sent you in the last couple of hours, and you don’t need to read it to know that it’s probably another iteration of the same apology. How many different ways are there to say “Hey, I’m sorry for fucking the receptionist and then having the balls to tell you that you’re the unprofessional one when you didn’t even do anything.” Apparently a lot, because the texts just keep coming.

“Jungkook again?” Yoongi asks from beside you. Fuck. You’ve mostly been silently moping since he brought you here, too enmeshed in your own web of muddled thoughts that you forgot he’s someone you need to make amends with too.

You give him a nod but still continue to stare at the drink in front of you, trying to disentangle your Yoongi thoughts from your Jungkook ones.

Taking a sip of your drink, your face manages to keep a grimace at bay as the liquid ambushes your tastebuds. You don’t like whiskey, but you need something to hate more than yourself tonight. When you set the glass down, the alcohol sloshes around like a compact sea of your own amber-colored miseries.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “This is unfair to you. I don’t know what came over me. I just want you to know that this isn’t me responding to…” To your confession.

“If you’re about to say what I think you’re about to say, then I have to stop you right now.”

“Yoongi…”

“I’m not saying that you can’t turn me down, although I hope you don’t do that,” he chuckles. “I’m just saying that whatever you do, whether you give me a chance or reject me, I want you to decide after you’ve really thought about it, about me.”

You can’t say no to that; it’s only fair. Yoongi knows what he deserves. You haven’t looked at him in any other way, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t. Didn’t you say it yourself, that maybe you should start putting yourself out there? Well, here is someone coming to you before you even have to look anywhere. You may not have expected Yoongi, but then, you didn’t expect Jungkook either.

Yoongi could be the good change you need.

Nevertheless, you want to tell him you’re sorry for the other night. It should be fairly simple, but the words have a hard time dislodging themselves from your throat.

“I’m sorry about what I said that night at dinner… and what I did…”

Yoongi props an elbow on the bar top and leans forward to rest his chin in the palm of his hand, his eyes glimmering with mischief. “Remind me what it is that you did again?”

“Come on, I’m serious.” You are grateful that he’s trying to keep it light, though.

“I’m serious too. I seem to have forgotten.”

“Yoongi…”

“Yes, Y/N?”

You sigh, shutting your eyes momentarily. Recalling the moment makes you flush with embarrassment, bringing a splash of color to your cheeks which Yoongi always seems to enjoy.

In a quiet voice, you say, “I’m sorry for throwing salt at you…”

“You threw salt at me!” He tips his head back, laughing freely. The bartender spares you two a glance at the sudden disruption. “You shouldn’t go around throwing salt at people!”

“Stop laughing! I’m trying to apologize.” You punch his arm out of habit and for a second there, you forget that your relationship with Yoongi isn’t the same anymore. Changed forever.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. Jeez, why are you so violent?” He rubs the spot where you hit him, muttering under his breath something about him bruising like a peach. “Apology accepted. No hard feelings.”

“Okay, good. But I still want you to know that if you were expecting anything from tonight…”

Yoongi ruffles your hair with a scoff. “I’m not that dense. Of course I’m not expecting anything.” When you peer at him with curious and unsure eyes, he continues, “Y/N, earlier you looked like you wanted to set the place on fire and Jungkook looked like he was about to shit himself. Tonight, I’m just a friend who’s here for you if you want to vent. We’re just two buddies having a drink, that’s all.”

He makes it sound so simple, while your brain is already going haywire.

Despite yourself, you chuckle at his words. You tell him how much you appreciate it, though you don’t really tell him anything about what happened this afternoon, just that Jungkook said some stuff that pissed you off. You can’t tell him exactly what Jungkook did to anger you without alluding to the confession for which Yoongi is letting you off the hook for now.

“Do you wanna come with me tomorrow?” Yoongi asks.

“Come with you where?”

“I have a shoot with Valentino in the morning.”

“You have a photoshoot not even 12 hours from now and you’re here drinking? Aren’t you gonna wake up puffy or something?”

“Yeah, my manager would kill me if she knows what I’m doing,” he replies casually, like his manager has a telepathic connection with him and she can sense him mocking her over a drink. When people see Agust D, they tend to only see the icy exterior that he dons. That tough, maybe even callous, image has sustained him in the entertainment industry for years. For many, Agust D seems intimidating and unapproachable. That’s how you felt when you first met him too. But after a while, you got to see Min Yoongi, and Min Yoongi is nothing if not warm and tender-hearted, even if he’s a little shit sometimes. At least, that’s what he has always been like to you. “She thinks I’m getting my beauty sleep right now.”

You lightly snort at that, telling him, “Yeah, you need it.”

When you start to yawn, Yoongi calls a driver to drop you off at your place. The ride is mostly silent, because you’re tired and because you’re not sure what to say to Yoongi in the presence of a stranger taking you home. The car pulls up to your building soon enough, and before you can step out and tell him goodnight, he offers to walk you up. He takes the elevator with you to your floor, how gallant but unnecessary. When you reach your door, you wonder whether you should invite him in for a glass of water or something. If this was a week – or even just a couple of days – earlier, you would’ve had no reason to hesitate. He doesn’t ask if he can come in but instead takes one of your hands.

“I see you’ve been giving yourself some TLC. They’re a lot better now,” he comments, smoothing his thumb over your skin. You’ve been diligent with your hand care routine since he gave you that lotion. It feels nice, and it smells amazing. Besides, your hands were starting to hurt anyway.

Silence descends upon the two of you as you become aware of Yoongi touching you, and the weight of the answer you’ve yet to give him. He must feel you stiffen, because he lets you go and smiles.

“Relax, princess. Get some sleep, you’re the one who needs it. I said I’ll let you think about it, didn’t I? Stop stressing so much.” His index finger taps your cheek playfully, so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. The wink that he tacks on makes you roll your eyes. You watch Yoongi make his way to the elevator, step in and press the button for the ground floor. He maintains eye contact with you as he waits for the doors to shut, and you don’t think you’ve really noticed before how Yoongi carries himself with such confidence and poise even when he’s off-camera. That’s just the kind of person he is and it’s… kind of attractive.

You can’t even fish around in your bag for your keys, you just stand there because he keeps your gaze trained on him. His eyes are alluring even under the shitty lighting of your building’s elevator. Before the lift closes, his voice carries over from the metal box to your door, and you don’t know if it’s the echo of his low timbre in the empty hallway that makes you shiver, or if it’s just Yoongi.

“I’ve waited this long, what’s a little more time?”

One week. This is a record for you and Taehyung.

You’re still baffled by his attitude that night, and no one has cleared anything up for you. He was right, but that doesn’t mean you were wrong. You stand by your initial reaction. Could anyone really blame you for that? In your defense, who the fuck could believe that a worldclass megastar has romantic feelings for them? Not to mention that the person whom the megastar in question has feelings for is you! You, the pathetic girl who can’t seem to get over her ex. Yoongi had to sit through a whole hour of you drunkenly crying over Jungkook, for fuck’s sake!

That really wasn’t your best moment, but it’s not like you even remember it anyway.

Your phone buzzes to life with Jimin’s face taking over the whole screen – a photo of your hand squishing his full cheeks until his lips jut out. “Hey Minnie,” you greet him once you’ve swiped to accept the call.

“Y/N,” he says, sounding out of breath. “Where are you?”

“I’m at home. Where are you? Are you doing pull-ups again? You know you practically hyperventilate when you do more than 3.”

“Shut up, I’m at dance practice. But listen, have you talked to Tae yet?”

You purse your lips at the mention of his name. “No. We’re supposed to go grocery shopping tomorrow like we always do, but I guess that won’t be happening.”

Jimin hums, like he’s in thought. He doesn’t speak again until his breathing has calmed. “Well, can you go to his place right now?”

“Why?”

“He’s sick and I’m kind of worried about him. He hasn’t answered my messages.”

You frown. “Tae’s sick?”

“Yeah, he must’ve caught a cold the other day. Could you go over there and check on him? I would go but I can’t leave for another few hours.”

You agree to go, because of course you would. Even if you’re stubborn and hot-headed, no amount of pettiness could make you ignore your friends especially when they’re unwell and need somebody. Especially when it’s Taehyung who’s been there for you so many times.

You stay on the call with Jimin for another ten whole minutes even after you have said you would go, because he keeps droning on and on about how shitty Taehyung looked yesterday.

Before you go to your best friend’s apartment, you stop by your regular diner to pick up some comfort food for him, and the pharmacy for some medicine. During the rest of the drive there, you start getting a little worried. When Taehyung takes care of a sick you or Jimin, he practically goes into full mama bear mode, making sure that you’re as comfortable as humanly possible and not leaving your side until you’re a functional human being again. But when it comes to his own wellbeing, Taehyung doesn’t seem to be that concerned. It’s not that he neglects his health, but you wish that he would show himself the same kindness that he shows you.

It feels weird to use the spare key that you have to his place, considering that you aren’t really on speaking terms. In hindsight, it feels so childish. How old are you to still be pulling the silent treatment on each other?

You ring the doorbell and wait a couple minutes until you hear Taehyung shuffling to get the door from the other side. When it swings open, he tenses up a bit, not expecting to see you at all. His hair is damp; he must’ve just gotten out of the shower. Taehyung doesn’t look as bad as Jimin described though. Just some dark circles under his eyes.

You raise a hand and wave. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he parrots somewhat awkwardly. It’s understandable; neither of you thought you’d be the one to break the ice. “What are you doing here?”

Bringing your other hand up, you show him the bag you’re holding. “Brought you soup and cold meds. Jimin said you’re sick.”

His brows knit together in confusion. “Thanks…” he says slowly, “but I’m not sick?”

“But Jimin said you caught a cold and you’ve been wheezing like a dying fisherman and–” You purse your lips, catching onto what’s really happening here. “He tricked me, didn’t he?”

Park Jimin…

Taehyung tuts under his breath, shaking his head at the ground. “Mhmm.”

“He could go into acting. He sounded really worried on the phone, like you were on the verge of death.”

“No, yeah, he really could,” Taehyung agrees. “Jimin is bizarrely good at lying sometimes. We should be worried about that.”

You laugh, and that makes him feel like the air is relaxed enough for him to laugh too. It only lasts a few seconds before you’re left staring at each other again. You hate it. You really, really hate it.

You thought that the universe sent you a sign, gave you a reason to come over and make nice with your best friend. Turns out that “the universe” is really just Park Jimin and his scheming tongue. But you’re already here, and you have to talk to him eventually. Jimin might have lied, but you would’ve just waited for Taehyung to reach out first to offer an olive branch anyway.

“Well, can I come in?” you ask. It’s weird that you even have to ask.

“Of course,” he says absentmindedly, stepping to one side to let you in. He takes the bag from your hand and brings it to the kitchen while you kick off your shoes and change into the pair of fuzzy bear slippers that he keeps for you here.

You want to tell him what happened as much as you hate admitting that you were wrong.

“Have you eaten?” you ask, a sad attempt at delaying what will inevitably come.

“No,” comes his simple reply.

“Should we eat? I bought enough for two people.”

“But I’m not sick.”

“You don’t have to be sick to eat chicken noodle soup.”

Taehyung looks at you like the thought has genuinely never crossed his mind. “Interesting… Okay, then.”

You put on an episode of your favorite show while he heats up the food. When you both sit down to eat, it’s mostly silent while the TV continues to play. The most you and Taehyung thing that you exchange in these 30 minutes is him saying soup tastes like shit when you’re not actually sick, and you telling him to stop being such a hater. When you both finish, Taehyung rinses the bowls and puts them in his dishwasher.

Before you came over, you thought you would only be making him eat, take his meds, and sit there for a bit while he sleeps. If you had known this would happen, you would’ve prepared yourself for it.

But then again, you were tricked into coming.

Ugh. Just do it. You are so freaking dramatic.

“Well,” you start, keeping your voice light and trying not to stand around like you’re out of place in his apartment, “you were right.”

“About what?” Taehyung asks, wiping his hands on a towel.

“About Yoongi and… all that.”

“Oh.” His expression is one you aren’t too familiar with. There’s surprise – yes, that you’re making peace with him – in the way his brows slightly lift, but there’s something else too. Something odd that you can’t quite put a finger on, and it makes you slightly uneasy because you don’t like it when you can’t read Taehyung.

He’s pretty quick to mask it, and it makes you even more conscious that there’s something he isn’t telling you. Of course, this feeling is miniscule, practically a seed compared to the blooming garden of nerves that the events of these past few days have dumped upon you, so you can’t categorize it as a high-level priority to nitpick. You need to deal with your main concerns first, aka what to do about Yoongi and Jungkook, both individually and together, and then you can begin to inspect what’s going on with Taehyung.

It all sounds so easy in theory.

Taehyung goes to the couch and you wordlessly follow. You sit down when he pats the spot next to him – your spot. “How did you come to that conclusion?” he asks. “You know I don’t get to hear you tell me I’m right very often.”

Because you aren’t right very often, is what you almost say. It’s light and playful, and you both know it would diffuse the leftover tension, but you chuck the words aside in favor of something more serious. There isn’t that much to catch him up on, but there is a lot to unpack from the few things that did transpire over the last few days.

You give him a recap of what happened with Yoongi and subsequently what happened with Jungkook. Those are the two things weighing the most on your mind. You haven’t really processed anything; blame it on Yoongi for telling you that you have time to think things through.

One thing you love about Taehyung is that he doesn’t tell you what to do, but rather helps you sort things out on your own. Come to think of it, these conversations often take place on his couch. He’s like your own personal therapist at this point.

“Can you give me a hug?” You probably can’t ask a licensed therapist to do this, though.

He softens even more with a smile. Opening his arms, he says, “C’mere.”

You shuffle over to sink into his embrace. You sigh as you practically melt in his hold. Taehyung is a little bony, but hugging him feels exactly like hugging a giant teddy bear. He’s soft, and always knows how to hold you just tight enough, how to stroke your hair the way you like, how to be just the comforting presence you need amidst a whirlwind of anxious thoughts. And he smells like jasmine, though that might be because you keep deliberately gifting him colognes with scents that you like.

With your chin perched on his shoulder, you feel yourself start to relax, walls coming down if only briefly.

“You okay?” Taehyung asks after a moment.

You’re suddenly aware that you’re crying. You don’t know how it started, but now that the waterworks have begun, it seems like there’s no stopping. “No,” you sniffle. “Can I just…”

You feel him exhale. “Of course.”

Taehyung is one of the few people – oh who are you kidding? He might be the only one – whom you feel comfortable enough around to let yourself cry to your heart’s content.

You’ve been feeling it for days now, even before all that shit happened. Every cell in your body is constantly vibrating, with anxiety, with guilt, with a heaviness that sinks into your bones. You’re shaking even when your hands are perfectly still. People, memories, thoughts you keep only to yourself – they all phase through you, not giving you a single moment to catch your breath.

When it rains, it pours.

Everything is weighing you down like someone has tied you to an anchor and pushed you into the unrelenting, unforgiving water. Grief is an ocean and you don’t know how to swim. Your job, your friends, the unbridled mess that you call a love life… Everything is changing and you’re the same. You’re different, but somehow still the same. Deep down, you’re still that scared little girl who doesn’t know what to make of the world. Your knees are bleeding but your mother is telling you not to cry. Why can’t you cry when you’re hurting? Every minute feels like a lifetime but every day feels like it’s going by in two seconds. Things are moving so fast. Things are moving too slow. You can’t remember the last time you actually cried. Really cried. Bawled. Sobbed. Let out all the dirt until you can see your roots again. Until you originate back to being a blank canvas. Sometimes it feels like that’s the only way that can help you see things more clearly. Your vision might blur for a while but afterward, it’ll have washed everything away. At least a little bit. So you can get your footing again.

You miss clarity, or the illusion that you have any control over your life. You miss looking out the window and have something to look forward to, even on overcast days where the sun can’t be bothered to bring you light. You miss hearing your heart beat a melody that doesn’t ache, doesn’t rattle you to the core. Pieces of you have been held together by nothing but tape and glue for the longest time. Eventually, they’ll deteriorate, and you’ll go back to being skin and bones always on the verge of falling apart.

Some of your best writing was never meant for anybody to hear. The best lines that you’ve scribbled down are diary entries disguised as music, as poetry. They’re results of your lowest and weakest moments, it just happens that there was a journal lying around and you thought that if you had to keep all that sadness inside for a second longer, you would burst. Those immortalized lines represent your heartbreak, your self-hatred, your sorrow and your grief. They come from a lifetime of unshed tears, from the burden of having a heart that feels too much but is always silenced. Words are your escape when time rushes through you like a child skipping stones. Everything hurts all the time but no one knows and you don’t bother explaining to anyone how you wish you could be a different person living a different life because it seems like the universe has made a mistake with this one. How it feels like a divine power has miscalculated and misread your false stoicism as resilience. Just because a person carries it well doesn’t mean they have to carry it at all.

Sometimes you like to muse that if anyone could catch a glimpse of what it’s like inside, they’d think, Wow. How are you holding all of that weight? How are you so silent through it all? How do you live with an ache so allconsuming that I can hardly see you underneath it?

It’s the only way you know how to express yourself. But even then, when you’re screaming and burning, you’re still quiet. Those words are your heart on paper, raw and bleeding all over the place, covered in a million cracks that no one can see or even pay enough attention to notice. They’re there whether anybody likes it or not. They’re right there, red ink staining white pages, begging in a voice small like a child asking for love. Please see me. I’m here. Nobody taught me how to swim. Please see me.

But nobody does. They walk past you every day. They sit with you, smile at you and laugh with you. They leave you. They stay. They break your heart. Even when they love you, nobody sees you.

You love Taehyung, but you don’t think he understands. He knows you better than almost everyone in this world and he tries to help you in any way he can, but at the end of the day, maybe this isn’t something that a person can understand even if they want to. It’s worse, to realize that perhaps it isn’t because people don’t care enough to see it, but that no matter how hard they try, they can’t.

The only person who has ever come the closest is Jungkook, with his big doe eyes that always see through you and see into you. Sometimes, you think there might be parts of you that he could see but you still don’t. He knew things about yourself that you never want anybody to find out, and he loved you anyway. He went the lengths that nobody ever did because they all gave up after a while. Someone once told you that you felt like a fortress wall impossible to climb, that nobody had the time, the patience to wait for you. In other words, you weren’t worth it. Not worthless, just not worth the effort it would take to break down your walls.

But Jungkook showed up and tried, every day. The one person that you never saw coming. You might have resisted at first, but then you became his biggest supporter. You were rooting for him to know you, how fucked up is that? You were right there. He was so close.

And then he stopped.

You suppose that’s what makes everything awful now – to know that you should let go of him when he’s the only person who ever came that close.

You don’t know how long Taehyung has had to sit here, comforting you like this, but at one point, your stomach starts growling and you feel your best friend trying to hold back a giggle. Jungkook might have mastered the art of loving you, but Taehyung is an expert at comforting you.

“Shut up.” You wipe away the dampness on your cheeks with the back of your hand and push Taehyung off. “Crying makes me hungry.”

“Should I order us fried chicken then?”

“And soju. Get some soju too.”

Jimin is a strategic trickster. There was no dance practice. He just ran around his apartment ten times until his breathing turned ragged, which if you ask anyone, was completely unnecessary. He’s very extra, but at least it was effective.

After he got off the phone with you, Jimin immediately went to your shared phone tracker app – today was one of those times where it proves to be the most useful. He stared at the little circle with a silly photo of you as it moved from your address to Taehyung’s with a couple pit stops along the way. Jimin giggled to himself when he saw your circle meet Taehyung’s, because at that point you two must have realized already that you’d been swindled. Of course, there was always a chance of you leaving the moment you figured out you had come all that way for no reason at all, but when Jimin saw after a couple of hours that the two circles are still next to each other, he knew that you and Taehyung made up already.

Jimin sends a message to your group chat, a simple hello but Taehyung knows what he’s trying to get at. The text thread shared by the three of you lights up with a selfie of you and Taehyung each holding a chicken drumstick and wearing a content smile. In the background, there are some soju bottles, a box of chicken and some fries.

Jimin doesn’t question why your eyes look a little puffier than usual. He just replies with a smiley emoji and a thumbs up. The triumph of his mini victory almost makes him forget that there’s someone else in his home.

Jungkook peeks over Jimin’s shoulder to peek at his phone, curious to see what’s making his friend so delighted. When he sees you and Taehyung on Jimin’s screen, he sinks again, heart sitting in the pit of his stomach. The words you told him just the day before ring loud in his ears, as if they haven’t been stuck on his mind, playing on a loop.

You’re such a fucking hypocrite.

You weren’t wrong, but man, did that feel like a punch in the gut.

He goes to sit across from Jimin, taking note of every single sound that notifies his friend of a new message. For the first time, he feels like an outsider, like he’s intruding on a private moment.

“I fucked up,” Jungkook admits quietly, cracking open a can of beer and taking a long sip. It makes Jimin look up and put away his phone. “With Y/N,” Jungkook clarifies.

“Yeah, I’ve been informed. That was the stupidest thing you’ve done in a while.”

“In a while? When was the last time I did something stupid?”

Jimin doesn’t even have to think about it. He answers right away, “When you left her.”

Jungkook hums, unclear whether the noise is meant in agreement or just in acknowledgment. His tongue darts out to swipe across his dry lips before he breathes out. “I don’t know what to do. She hasn’t replied to any of my texts. I feel like a fucking asshole.”

“From what I’ve been told, you were a fucking asshole,” Jimin says lightly, his words emphasized with a chuckle like he finds Jungkook’s predicament so funny. “I can’t believe you would say that shit about Yoongi to her right after he confessed.”

Cue a pregnant pause, and a pair of doe eyes staring right into Jimin’s skull, unable to decipher if what he’s hearing is a joke or not.

“Yoongi– what?”

Jimin slaps himself internally. Shit. It slipped, he swears. “Nothing,” he sighs, but he knows it wouldn’t be dropped so easily.

“No. Not nothing,” Jungkook sits up straight and puts his chilled beer down on the table, missing the coaster entirely just to piss off his friend. “The fuck do you mean Yoongi confessed? Confessed what?”

Jimin sighs with pursed lips. “What else? What do you think he confessed to?”

Jungkook gulps, and blinks a few times. When? Why? Was that the reason you looked so distraught yesterday before all that shit went down between you and him? Who confesses to someone in a freaking break room?

Then Jungkook remembers that you and Yoongi went out for drinks last night. What did he say? What did you say? His stomach churns at the thought of something… happening between the two of you.

Jimin takes in his friend’s dumbfounded expression. “Why are you shocked?” he asks. “I thought you expected something like this. Isn’t it why you spewed all that crap about Yoongi flirting with her?”

“Fuck, I don’t know! It feels like the guy is out to get me for some goddamn reason. I thought he was just playing with Y/N to piss me off!”

Jimin shakes his head, looking thoughtful. “Yoongi wouldn’t do that to her.”

“How would you know?”

“Because when they first worked together, from the things that she told us, the stuff that Yoongi would do for her, Taehyung and I thought he liked her back then too,” Jimin says. “This has nothing to do with you.”

It sucks. It fucking sucks.

“Should I go over there?” Jungkook asks, a newfound sense of urgency in his voice that borderlines panic. He’s acting like this fact that Jimin just dumped upon him is unraveling just as this conversation is taking place, but in reality, he’s one of the last people to know.

“And tell her what? If you’ve said sorry a million times and she hasn’t responded, then saying it one more time won’t change anything.”

“What am I supposed to do when I see her tomorrow?”

“Nothing? Are you incapable of leaving things alone? If she wants to ignore you, let her ignore you. If she wants to yell at you, let her yell at you. If she wants nothing to do with you, let her do that too. Why do you keep making things worse for yourself?”

Jungkook runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “So your solution is for me to just let her hate me?”

Jimin levels him with a look, which just annoys him even more. “You had no problem with that before.”

“If you’re not gonna help me, should I ask Taehyung then?”

“Don’t go to Tae about this.”

“Why not?”

“Just don’t,” Jimin snaps, and it makes Jungkook falter for a few seconds before the petulance in him clouds his better judgment.

“Why? He’s her best friend. They’re practically joined at the hip. He’s gotta be able to help me with this.”

“You really want to go to Taehyung for advice on how to suck up to your ex-girlfriend? He’s the most protective of her. What makes you think he would be willing to help you?”

“He’s my friend too, isn’t he? Shouldn’t he want to help all of us be civil with each other?”

“Yeah, he’s your friend. I’m your friend and Y/N’s too. And you’re right, all of us should get along, but we shouldn’t be put in a situation where we’d have to try. You did that to us and nothing is going to be the same again. I don’t even know why you did it. You kept your mouth shut for years no matter how hard me and Taehyung tried to get it out of you. Now you suddenly can’t make peace with the consequences of your actions? Now you want us to help you win over the person you fucked over, who is also our closest friend? I don’t get you, JK. I’m starting to regret not letting Taehyung punch you back then.”

Jungkook stares at his friend. Is this shock that he’s feeling? He still remembers that night, because he doesn’t forget a lot of things. He can’t forget it. He had never seen Taehyung – who is usually so calm and cordial – get that angry before. His friend, who is a saint of a man, felt so much rage toward Jungkook that Jimin had to physically hold him back.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Jimin asks. “You’re not used to me not being on your side all the time?”

He knows that. The only person who seems to be on Jungkook’s side is himself, and sometimes he isn’t sure if this is even true at all. What you told him at the dance studio’s opening party, what Jimin is telling him now, and even the things that Taehyung shouted at him a couple of years back – it’s all true. He knows these things already, but it feels different to hear them from other people. You’re all right; nobody is overreacting. To an outsider, it might come across as harsh, but to anyone who knows anything, it’s rightfully deserved.

Nevertheless, Jungkook admits quietly, “Actually, yeah.”

Jimin sighs, because he knows that his friend has no malicious intent toward you or toward anyone. Jimin knows that Jungkook doesn’t mean to hurt you, any more than he already has. Jungkook is even more crazed now that Yoongi is somehow a factor in all of this. It’s the insecurities bubbling at the surface. He’s panicking and he can’t even see straight. This is just his own stupid take on fight or flight. It was flight for a while, and now apparently it’s not. Jimin doesn’t really understand it, but he gets that this is his friend’s way of dealing with shit. “I tried, man. I did. But it’s really, really hard to have your back on this.”

Jungkook is well aware of it too – that to leave you alone is probably the best thing he can do at this point. Everything he says or does seems to backfire; instead of pulling you closer, all he manages to do is push you further away and make you hate him more than you already do.

But in a way, isn’t that a good thing? Better to have you hate him than be indifferent toward him. After all, there’s a thin line between love and hate. You yourself blurred this line long ago. You can do it again, can’t you?

Jungkook sits there for a while longer to finish his beer, even though he doesn’t have anything else to say. It’s clear what Jimin’s stance on this is, and no matter what he says, it’s unlikely that anyone will help him try and get back in your good graces.

Before he leaves, Jimin says something that makes him nauseous. Makes him want to fucking cry and kick something and speed over to your apartment just so you could reassure Jungkook that he’s still the one you hate the most. That all of your feelings, whether they’re good or bad, are still reserved for him and only him.

It isn’t what his best friend should tell him, but it’s what a good friend would say. It's not about Jungkook, it's not about Jimin or Taehyung or anyone else. It's about you, who has been hurt the most here.

“If she wants to choose Yoongi, let her do that too.”

[10:48] Yoongi: Attachment: 2 Images.

[10:49] Yoongi: got yelled at for showing up puffy yesterday

You tap on the notifications and the photos pop up within seconds. It’s Yoongi at his Valentino shoot probably. He never used to send you stuff like this, nor asked you to come watch him at his photoshoots. Why would he?

You zoom in on his face to inspect if he really was puffy, but you can’t really tell. Maybe if you were a makeup artist with a sharper eye, you would see it. But under your regular-person gaze, everything seemed fine. Yoongi looked handsome in the pictures.

[10:55] You: you don’t look puffy to me

[10:57] Yoongi: so how do i look to you? ;)

[10:58] You: the fits look good

[11:01] Yoongi: i wasn’t asking about the fits

[11:05] You: and i’m telling you the fits look good anyway

[11:07] Yoongi: what about the model?

[11:10] You: are you fishing for compliments?

[11:11] Yoongi: what if i am?

[11:14] You: the model looks Not Puffy

[11:16] Yoongi: you’re no fun ;(

You consider your next reply for a moment. It doesn’t seem like that big a deal. You want to send it. It seems innocent enough, and it’s the truth. A simple praise can’t hurt, right?

Your fingertips tingle just typing the words out. You’re suddenly so jittery for some reason as your thumb hovers over the arrow symbol that would whoosh away your message. It's a good kind of jittery. You might even say that you’re excited.

[11:22] You: the model looks good too

You put your phone face-down on the table, not even checking when it vibrates with Yoongi’s response to your latest text. It’s so weird that you’re feeling like this, maybe because it’s been so long since someone has shown an actual interest in you? Or is it because it’s Yoongi? If it were anyone else, would you still react the same?

It’s weird, but not necessarily weird in a bad way. You just aren’t used to it, or it’s been such a long time that you forgot what it feels like to be… wanted? You don’t think about it often but it’s true, you’ve missed the thrill of being chased.

“So… word on the street is you have a secret song.”

Seokjin’s voice makes you glance up, wondering who he could be talking to when the only people in the room beside him are you and Jungkook – whom you haven’t spoken a word to all morning despite him glancing not-so-subtly at you every two seconds. When you got here this morning, there was already a chai latte on the table with your name on it. The order was too specific for it to be Seokjin, but you didn’t say anything.

“The street?” you ponder for a moment, knowing exactly who the culprit is. “Is that what Yoongi calls himself these days? He’s been here for what? A couple weeks? And he’s already blabbed to you.”

“So it’s true?” Seokjin leans back in his chair, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Yoongi said it’s real good. Top shelf kinda stuff. And you know he never says things like that.”

It’s not a song, or at least that isn’t what you would call it. Maybe more like an essay composed of sentences that go together like misfit puzzle pieces. You don’t think you would ever rework it and pitch it to anyone because it’s yours and it’s personal. You would never tell anyone about it, and Yoongi wouldn’t have come to know about its existence if he hadn’t stumbled across it in your journal by accident.

“Don’t listen to Yoongi,” you say. “At this point, I feel like you should know that Yoongi tends to exaggerate sometimes.”

“He never seems to be exaggerating when it comes to you,” Seokjin muses. You almost blush, thinking about what else Yoongi could’ve told Seokjin. He doesn’t notice the split second in which your cheeks redden just the slightest, or he doesn’t mind it enough to comment. “What’s the title?”

You shrug, saying nothing.

“You can’t even tell me the title? Damn, Y/N. Are you the CIA?”

“I’m not telling you because there is no title. There’s not even a song, just something I go back to sometimes. It’s mostly just word vomit. I promise you, it’s nothing.”

“Tell that to Yoongi. He told me whoever’s gonna get that song is one hell of a lucky bastard.”

Again, what is it with the praise? You know working with Yoongi and being associated with his last album gave your career a boost, but you weren’t aware that he was talking about you with other people. Maybe he only does it with Seokjin because they’re close, but still, it makes you itch with curiosity.

“By any chance are you gonna give it to… me?” Seokjin asks, and seems to immediately hear how flawed it sounds. You stare at him blankly, trying to bite back an amused smile, and even Jungkook turns his head to look too. Seokjin’s ears turn red in an instant. “Okay, that came out kinda wrong. I’m really, really sorry. But you know what I mean.”

You continue to stare at him until his face is so flushed, you swear he’s like a tomato that’s about to burst. You can see why Yoongi likes to tease people this way. “Okay, boss,” you acquiesce with a laugh, relieving Seokjin of the fear that he genuinely offended you. “If the song ever gets to see the light of day, I’ll make sure to ask you to lend your voice.”

“Ah, so you admit it’s a song.” He grins brightly at your empty promise, making you roll your eyes half-heartedly. He goes back to his normal shade in a minute, no longer ridiculously red like a cartoon character. “What’s it about?”

You ponder his question silently, missing the way Jungkook takes this moment to glance at you. When you look up again, he’s already averting his gaze.

What is it about? That’s a question that you yourself have never really considered. It’s about everything and it’s about nothing. It’s love, it’s loss, it’s the infinite in-between. You give Seokjin an answer that won’t satisfy him, but it’s the truth.

“I haven’t figured it out yet. I’ll let you know when I do.”

He tuts at you, like he was expecting the obscurity from you anyway. “You’re really not beating the CIA allegations,” he says.

You flip him the bird, which only compels him to stick out his tongue and make a face at you. Then, he diverts his attention to the person who hasn’t contributed anything this whole time.

“JK, why are you so quiet today? We’re not gonna eat you.”

Jungkook mutters something to Seokjin that you don’t quite catch because the words come out of his mouth like an inarticulate mess, which is so unlike him. He sounds jumpy, like he’s too nervous to speak in front of you. Seokjin’s eyes land on you again as he mouths a confused What?

You just shrug, and Seokjin has to take Jungkook’s weird response as him having an off day. The man checks his phone, lets out a quiet whine, then addresses the both of you. “I have a shoot this afternoon so you two will have to hold down the fort, by the way.”

You come back from your solo lunch date to an empty studio.

Well, almost empty. There’s something new that wasn’t there before.

Another chai latte waiting for you equates to another apology hoping to be acknowledged. The paper cup is still hot when your hand reaches out to touch it. You sink into your chair with a sigh. You could laugh at yourself for feeling so nostalgic at the sight of a beverage in the middle of a workday.

Jungkook walks in about 15 minutes later, and the air turns suffocating at his arrival. He feels it too, you know he does.

You chew on your bottom lip until it starts to hurt, bite down on it until it almost bleeds.

“Jungkook,” you say, catching his attention. It looks like he didn’t expect you to initiate any conversation. It’s not like you want to, but you have to. You keep having to do this, because he just wouldn’t listen. “Stop buying me drinks.”

It translates to: Stop saying sorry. Stop trying to make things right. Stop doing things you think would make me happy. Stop making me have the same argument with you over and over again.

“Because you wouldn’t hear me out,” he says, and proceeds to repeat the one thing that you’re sick of hearing from him. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” you verbalize it. “If it’s not about work, I don’t think it’s necessary for me to hear it, Jungkook. I don’t want to hear it.”

“You do need to hear it. Because I can’t function properly until you know how sorry I am.”

“Well, that sounds like a you problem.”

“Y/N.”

“What?”

“Hear me out,” he says, sounding a little firmer now but you still catch the crack in his voice. “Please.”

Jungkook must take the way you hesitate to shut down him as reluctant permission for him to keep going, because he stands up and moves to a spot closer to you. Not close enough that he could reach out and touch you, but enough for you to see the tiny mole under his bottom lip and how it quivers when he looks at you.

Fuck. You’re letting him win again.

“Okay, fine. Talk then. I’m listening. You’re sorry, right? You keep saying you’re sorry for everything, but what exactly is everything? What are you even sorry about? Are you sorry about annoying me right now, or are you sorry about being a prick the other day, or are you sorry about leaving me five years ago? When did you become this pathetic, Jungkook?”

“W–what?”

“When did you become so pathetic?” you repeat. “If you had to come back, couldn’t you come back as someone better? Someone who’s sure of himself and has a good life, not this… person who has to grovel at my feet for forgiveness. Even when you were at your lowest, you weren’t like this. I don’t even know who this Jungkook is. What happened to you?”

If you think that you saw him at his lowest, then you’re wrong. He didn’t hit rock bottom until he’d left you and had to live with what he chose to do.

“You’re right. I am pathetic,” Jungkook agrees, dropping his gaze to the floor like he’s ashamed. “But fuck, I’m trying to be worthy of you.”

It’s a truth that he doesn’t want to face, doesn’t want to admit how very real it is until you’ve just said it and it fucking guts him. He knows his friends pity him sometimes, even if they don’t want to view him as someone to be pitied. No matter how much of a front he puts up, he knows that Jimin and Taehyung see right through him. They won’t say it to his face, and for that Jungkook has gotten away with avoiding this fact for so long. But to hear it from you, to watch you spell it out for him, it hurts.

He wants to mention Yoongi, but he doesn’t know how to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t immediately aggravate you. After all, bringing up Yoongi is what got him into this mess, isn’t it?

Regardless, he wants to ask you a question that he already knows the answer to. What does Yoongi have that he doesn’t? The answer is: A lot of things. Yoongi has a lot of things that Jungkook doesn’t, one of them being the self-assurance to not run away when it comes to you and what you deserve.

He wants to ask, but he doesn’t, because he’s scared it might drive you right into Yoongi’s arms and Jungkook can’t compete with a man like that.

He can barely keep up even with just himself in the running.

There’s a big question mark that pops up in your head, along with a slight sting in your eyes that you blink away. You’ve never seen Jungkook like this before. This whole time, was it not only you who was miserable?

He looks so small that it breaks your heart. For once, you aren’t sad for yourself but you’re sad for him. It never occurred to you that he could’ve been lonely too, having to keep all of this inside because you know he didn’t share it with anyone else. You catch a glimpse of him again, like you did when you were making ramen together in your kitchen while a storm was raging outside. In a lot of ways, Jungkook is still that kid stuck in an adult’s body, lost and scared and loved you. It feels like you could’ve seen him in the same ocean while you were just trying to keep your head above water.

The sight of him, so vulnerable and astray, placates you. Your resolve crumbles, but not like it was ever that strong to begin with. You suppose you could see why he was being a jerk to you. Even though it doesn’t justify what he said, you understand just a little bit where he was coming from. You find yourself forgiving him for some of it. It’s part of letting things go, right?

But no matter how much you want to reach out and comfort him, you know you shouldn’t. What are you supposed to do in a situation like this? You’re confused and it feels like you two have been going around in a circle, looking for a solution that doesn’t seem to exist.

Coexisting doesn’t work. Telling him to leave things alone doesn’t work. What else can you do?

Why do you have to resolve a problem that isn’t even yours? Jungkook says he’s trying, but his efforts keep making your life harder and harder. You practically blew up in his face, then apologized for being harsh even though you were fully aware that you had nothing to be sorry for. You called him a hypocrite and now you’re ready to cave just because he’s on the verge of shedding a few tears. This constant back and forth between your anger and your reluctance to see that anger through is possibly the thing that’s hindering you.

You can’t – and shouldn’t – accommodate him anymore. You have to put your foot down, no matter how difficult it is with the lingering ghost of your past love.

Because you’re always weak when it comes to Jungkook.

Because you’re still holding onto something.

Because Jungkook will always be the first person that you have ever loved, and those four years meant a lot to you even if they didn’t to him. Maybe it’s even fair to say that you might never truly get over it, and that doesn’t have to be such a terrible thing. Maybe he was never the person you thought he was, or maybe you never meant as much to him as he did to you. Somehow, that’s okay. It’s manageable because it’s routine at this point. You’ve internalized it. The years have taught you that sometimes, things get shitty just because they can and you just have to deal with it.

The intrinsic pain of the human experience. C’est la vie.

What a world this is.

Is it bad that you’re thinking about Yoongi in a moment like this?

Yoongi could be your future, if you’d let him.

You should let him. Maybe this is your answer right here.

“Jungkook, let’s stop.” He looks at you with crestfallen eyes, but you have to keep going. The only way out is through. “Let’s stop. You want me to listen to you, but you haven’t been listening to me. I don’t have the strength to keep this up anymore, and I have told you that repeatedly but you wouldn’t listen. Jungkook, move on.”

You pretend not to notice how his lip trembles even more. “What if I don’t want to move on?”

This feels like a conversation that should’ve happened ages ago. Five years ago, you should’ve screamed at him, cried with him, held each other as you both fell apart. He stripped you of that right and gave you no say at all.

“You’re being awfully selfish,” you tell him, but in your head, you’re already thinking about what his words actually mean.

“Have you completely written me off then? Is there nothing at all that I can do? Because I would do anything if you asked. You know that.”

Your throat is so dry that it feels like you’re swallowing sand. You dig everything back up again until you find the memory of that day hidden at the very bottom.

It’s terrible. He’s making you relive it again.

“I remember calling for you and you didn’t even look back,” you say, but your voice breaks toward the end. “I can’t trust you anymore.”

Jungkook just stares at you then, and for the longest time, neither of you say anything. This is the first time that you two have addressed the problem, properly addressed it instead of half-heartedly sweeping it under the rug like you tried to do.

You breathe in, he breathes out. You hate the way you feel, and you resent the way he looks like he’s breaking down just as badly. There are tears in those eyes, tears that Jungkook doesn’t let spill because he defiantly wipes them away with the back of his hand after a moment.

When he speaks next, you want the world to end.

“Then I’ll earn your trust back. I’ll do whatever it takes. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you. I will.”

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starheirxero · 5 months ago

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HOLY SHIT- HOLY. SHIT. I CAN'T BELIEVE, EVIL EARTH IS BACK-

I HONESTLY DIDN'T THINK, WE'D HEAR FROM THE OTHER DIMENSIONS AGAIN-

THIS ENTIRE EPISODE WAS SO FASCINATING!!!

Earth's entire character revolves around making people happy! She is the caretaker, the therapist, the golden child.

She is kind to a fault, always wanting everyone to be happy, and putting the people around her above her.

She was created and taught to do so. It's her purpose.

THIS IS SUCH A CLEVER SPIN TO HER CHARACTER-

Taking the character trait that defines her the most, and twisting it into something sinister?? Holy shit, I love that!!!

This truly makes her feel in-character, while still giving her a chilling edge!

Instead of simply trying to make people happy, she's actively forcing them to! Even brainwashing them with camps!

And if they can't be happy? If they won't be? Then they are tainting her perfect utopia, and need to die.

This Earth seems to idolize the Creator a lot more, or he, at the very least, generally seems to have rubbed off on her, considering her apathy towards her sinister actions!

I cannot describe to you, how much I love this!!

I'm also really interested in her dynamic with her brothers, and the general world-building!

For one, she actively mentions, that their hatred for her comes from a place of prejudice, because she's a robot. The Creator's robot, to make it worse.

I love, how they consistently throw in humans' distaste for animatronics, and the latter's lack of rights!

Though in this case, that's definitely not it-

She also generally seems to take more of an older sister role? The way she talks to her Lunar sounds like an indeared older sibling, using a higher tone and generally seeming amused by their antics! Also her mentions of them being "silly" again, much like an older sibling indulging in her little sibling's games. This also plays into her patiently explaining everything.

I can't quite say for her dynamic with Moon, though it has shifted somehow!

There's little to go off, when analyzing the brothers, though they too seem generally more apathetic, and honestly tired. Especially Moon.

It's also interesting to note, that this Lunar apparently has a lot of memory issues, the humans actively meddling with their systems to put them against their sister! So much so, that Earth seems very much used to it!

This world fascinates me so much, and I hope, we'll see them again!

With her comeback, I also have hopes to see the other AUs again!

Listen- I need Lunara to make an appearance- I need them to be an antagonistic maniac- I need to know more about their resets, and how long it's been going on- I need them in my life-

I really hope to see a glimpse of Lord Lunar and Servant Eclipse again, and see if their dynamic has shifted since Gregory came by-

I want God Eclipse to be a smug bastard-

I also want go give a shout out to Ruin for being absolutely UNHINGED when it comes to building- Buddy legit built a high tech spaceship in underneath a year, and got a hold on several whiterstorm pieces-

And it feels CRIMINAL not to at least mention Earth's dream episode- Which I haven't done, cause brain fog-

It made me incredibly emotional too!! It's just-

The atmosphere was so incredibly somber…

Earth KNEW, he wasn't real, yet still found comfort in his memory-

OUCH-

-Stardust

YEHWYSYAYAYYAYAYA I KNOW RIGHT!!!!! GENUINELY I'M SO HAPPY THEY BROUGHT HER BACK AND SHOWED OFF MORE OF HER CHARACTER AND HER WORLD IT MADE ME SO HAPPYYYY!!!! I always thought it was a lil weak sauce that, last time, they just went "she's a dictator, evil enough!" so having them revisit her to elaborate and make her properly villainous is EVERYTHING TO MEEEE

AND YEA YEA YEA I LOVEEEE HOW THEY TWISTED HER MOTIVE!!! Exactly like u said abt her having more the Creator's influence, I adore that it's still distinctly her goal, it's just that she's not as emphatic about what she has to do to achieve that goal! And YEA the fact people were particularly displeased about her being the Creator's creation fascinates me.

In my heart I'm imagining someone in her universe made a very online callout post about her and her ties to the creator HSKAHSKS "ouf, unfollowing her now. i was a fan of her 'keep everyone happy' goal but i didn't know she was made by That guy 😬" LMAO

BUT ALSO WITH HER SIBLINGS YEAH YEAH YEAH!!!!! She's definitely more authoritative with them, especially with Moon just outright calling her "boss"?!?!!! Whatever is happening there has me SO INTRIGUED. It definitely make me wonder what the lead-up to all this looked like...

I was sort of talking about smth similar with a friend earlier, like. if any of them ever pushed back at any point, only to be put in their place, or if they've just always been too scared to work against her.....

SPECIFICALLY LUNAR HAS ME SO FASCINATED THO YEAH. I cannot explain why for the lofe of me but the fact they're usually a target of the rebel's attacks and have constant memory issues as a result just scratches smth in my brain I rlly like it HAKAHXK

AND YEAAAHHHHHH OH MY STARS IF ANY OTHER AUS ARE REVISITED I THINK I'D GENUINELY ASCEND. MY SOUL WOULD LEAVE MY BODY. EXTRA DETAILS AND INTERACTIONS... TSAMS... TLAES... IF YOU HEAR ME PLEASE HAJAHAJAHS

ANS RUIN YEAHSJQHSKHS IDK HOW ELSE TO DESCRIBE IT BUT LIKE. LITERAL SOLAF BEHAVIOR. THEY BOTH APPARENTLY LOVE TO WORK THEMSELVES SILLY 😭 AND EARTH'S EP I KNOWWW I KNWOEHHRGRHEGRHRGRG

Genuinely that whole ep was DEVASTATING. The whole "you don't know what he'd say, do you?" coming out of his own mouth had me MESSED UPPP 😭😭😭 1 MILLION EMOTIONS ATTACK FOREVER

#asks #anon #stardust anon #ALSO UR TOTALLY FINE FOR NOT LIKE. IMMEDIATELY COMMENTING ON ALL THE NEW EPS #there ain't as much breaks as before via the gaming videos so i totally get it to skip over some or ramble later!!!!#ouh but on topic tho i also wanted 2 say !!!!!#i can't help but wonder if. like. earth doesn't allow her sinlings to be unhappy either.#specifically bc i'm wondering how they would have handled loss. like if they had their own solar and he died too. would she even Allow them-#-to grieve? would she allow herself to? or is that against her goals. are they allowed to truly mourn the loss or do they just have to go-#'oh well. we'll miss em.' and move on. yk? yk?!?!!!!#just. GAH. RLLY INTERESTING SET-UP OVERALL YK HDJSBSKSHDKS #sun and moon show #the sun and moon show #tsams #lunar and earth show #the lunar and earth show #tlaes #long post #very long post

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madcatdaderpydrawer-blog · 2 years ago

Text

An idea that came up because of a song I listened to

In the yttd au second game, the one where it was playing mini games to collect tokens, Lunar really wanted to do a lot of games to get more tokens. He thought that would be the best option in case a ton were needed, plus games are the topic he’s really interested in so it was very tempting. Eclipse stopped him from playing too many games so that he only had a few tokens claiming that it was a better idea. He doesn’t want Lunar to be the one with the most tokens or the least, it’s safer if they both have just around the middle.

His suspicions ended up being well founded considering at the end of the period the highest token holder and the lowest one are put into a death contraption. And if lunar was given a choice to poison himself for someone else he 100% would. Of course at the time Eclipse had no idea this would happen but god was he happy that he’d stopped lunar when he did. Though it did make him look incredibly suspicious to everyone else for a while

#yttd au #yttd spoilers #sams au

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polarisbear · 2 years ago

Text

oh fuck right au post

april fools au but sideways

(i will note literally anything except the group comps are subject to change)

these group swaps based on the april fools ones mostly come from my… dissatisfaction with them. i mean that’s a weird thing to say about a one off joke but clearly there was some thought put into it just not any thematic ones which gets a lil awkward. also why did you put all the boys in one group. no get them out spread them apart that’s literally the most boring option. so, i think these combos are funnier and have like some workable story. that’s it.

swap! leo/need

shizuku on drums (leader)

airi on bass

ena on guitar

tsukasa on keytar

theme of this group: regain lost childhood! because holy fuck! their aesthetic is based on like visual kei maybe i haven’t decided but i did want to make glam rock miku so we’ll adjust.

original name was i think oneiroi (god of dreams) for a Couple reasons but i decided to scrap that. oniiroi was a good pun though.

anyways, this group formed the same way the original april fools group did, though shizuku actually suggested it to airi and they pulled in ena and tsukasa from kami high. everyone’s backstories also remain more or less the same, bar the fact that saki instead watched just, the sickest keytar solo and tsukasa went “hell yeah time to make my baby sister happy with sick piano riffs”.

“you shoved 4 of the 6 second years in this group how is anyone alive” well champ. i thought they needed the breather from Chronic Older Sibling Syndrome

i mostly think the friendship dynamics in this one are sweet and fun and i don’t know enough vocaloid songs to make it work but i do want them to be consistently just going ham on their songs. just going all in on these hard as hell rock songs. they deserve it. they have the vocal chops.

this is their vent session is what i’m trying to convey. ena and airi are staring at tsukasa and shizuku going “are you. going to talk” and they both start dodging the question

swap! more more jump!

kanade as the composer (leader)

shiho

akito

theme of this group: just like the most ill-suited people for japanese idol work. hope is still delivered, the climb upwards is still constant. i really like the mmj outfits (this person has a magical girl bias) but like vibe wise for this group i’d probably go for a kpop idol group look. which is unpopular in japanese marketing but still

i wanted to do a pun on “messenger” but that didn’t pan out, so penumbra is a tentative placeholder. this is specifically in reference to kanade’s name and shiho’s names (a penumbra can both refer to a partial lunar eclipse and the outer edges of a sunspot), and just. overall the group could be summed up as “almost enough” yeah? there’s also the belief that eclipses are when communication opens up due to celestial bodies lining up so it fits

this group forms in an extremely complicated way ngl but an and akito’s goal is still to surpass rad weekend (in a different way. this might be undermining their integrity as musicians if i’m being honest) and they’re a bit. bitter about things. shiho is similarly bitter at her sister though things are still pretty close to canon things just got changed a little. kanade’s backstory is exactly the same and how she gets into the group is also just like the april fools version where she was just going to compose the group’s songs in the background but she got pulled in the spotlight instead. the group finds a lot of inspiration from kanade. secretly.

this was like one the first groups i wanted to changed and swap, mostly because of 1) there’s too many cool colors in the april fools swap! hell! kanade is dying in the warm color gang. akito’s here to break that up a little. and 2) i wanted the boys to Not be relegated to one group, that felt… insulting. slightly smaller reason is that i’m pretty sure akito is a canon idol fan so while i think he’d be embarrassed and not Enjoying his masculinity being “tarnished” by the public, i still think he’s doing okay. something about those “i put akito in a mmj video to torture him” videos rub me the wrong way.

the baggage gang. so much. so much in fact their miku initially calls them “the worst idol candidates i’ve ever seen. kanade at least shows some promise, she wants to have people with her music, ‘hope’ is just another form of that. you can’t treat idol-hood as just a different avenue for your pipe dreams.”

shiho’s pissed. akito’s pissed. an isn’t really but something starts gnawing at her.

anyways this all an excuse to get akito’s banjo of a voice to sing happy synthesizer

swap! wonderlands x showtime (happiness sentai sunny sunny ⭐️ wonder)

emu, the candy phoenix (leader)

kohane, the hamster phoenix

haruka, the penguin phoenix

mafuyu, the snow phoenix

theme of this group: the fight for happiness is hard, but we need to protect the smiles of the world from the evil despair! if this sounds like a magical girl premise it is. precure is just a sentai show

no notes this group is perfect 10/10, i just wanted to lean into the “sentai” part of their name. if i ever get the energy to i’d like to redesign their outfits to be sentai outfits because like Maybe that breaks the fairytale theme pheenieland has but i don’t care. i want cheese

same as canon, a little more permanently though, because like. yeah.

this plays out like a precure season but with better character writing, so every event they defeat the bad guys (old traumas and history haunting each other) and learn a moral at the end! (everyone’s smiles become a bit more real and emu worries a little less)

swap! vivid bad squad

saki on synth (leader)

ichika on guitar

mizuki on special effects

rui on dj-jig

theme of this group: childhood friends stumble into the brand new world of street music and fashion! investigate the mysteries of shibuyu and vivid street together as you dance around your baggage!

this one was made because i switched some people and everyone got grouped up here but hey i think this works! two sets of childhood friends, partner edition!

basically we take all their casual outfits and crank them up to 11 in a specific fashion subculture, like ichika is full on pink now, saki leans harder into old school hime gyaru, mizuki goes all in on the lolita look, and rui really looks like a 2000’s scene kid.

what they actually do is preform shows (dj4dj style) where mizuki and rui are in the back supporting ichika and saki preforming in the front.

i think they all spend their spare time solving urban mysteries together both the silly and real. top of the list is “who were the rising stars of vivid street, and why did they abandon it and rad weekend?” occasionally ichika wonders if that curiosity should be directed inward towards their little group but she isn’t… sure if she should pry.

swap! nightcord at 25:00

minori as the idol stan (leader)

honami as the home ec teacher

nene as the gamer

touya as the music theory knower

theme of this group: all of their dreams have been destroyed and it’s coping time! they talk about their hobbies at 1 am and yearn

i like to think sometimes nene and toya get into an autism music special interest feedback loop and honami is just smiling while minori is losing it trying to keep up with them.

because they only talk at 1 am there’s a very deep melancholy permeating through all their chats. minori is the only one to actively talk about her dreams but even she dodges directly talking about it by talking about idols instead. toya doesn’t… have a lot to talk about since he doesn’t have akito to hang out with so he just talks about the arcade. nene talks about her games which everyone tries to understand but once she gets into meta gaming all hope is lost. honami gives them all a lot of housework advice and they all love it when both honami and minori send in their dogs. but in general it’s… a bit quiet.

their sekai costumes reference what their sekai costumes would look like if their dreams where being chased, except toya who never found that dream. he’s dressed like a composer instead.

#project sekai #paper stars au #nothing special about the name i just like it #i’m also not tagging everyone that would be insane

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skellebonez · 4 years ago

Note

You like soulmate aus? 44 with a soulmate au where there are countdown timers for important events and if you concentrate you can see the lifespan of your romantic and platonic soulmates except immortals. MK realizes he can see Red Son's life countdown and he only has 1 year left

ANON I WANT YOU TO KNOW THIS WAS THE SADDEST PROMPT I HAVE EVER BEEN GIVEN AND I HAD TO TAKE IT OUT OF THE WAIT LIST TO FILL IT ASAP. Just. Damn. You came for my heart and crushed it. @kitkat1003 you helped make this sadder so I wanna make sure you see this.

WARNING: I mean, look at the prompt. It's gonna be a depressing read regardless. Read the tags for a major spoiler if you want to know about the end in advance.

The Lunar New Year special is mentioned in passing but NO SPOILERS.

Why are you still awake?

MK never made it a point to concentrate and look at his soulmate timers unless he really felt he had to, tempting as it may have been. Especially not their life countdown timers. The colors one saw differed from from viewer to viewer, some people even saw only one color in varying shades, and no one knew why the colors were chosen the way they were for each individual. But to MK the timers were a whole swath of colors.

It was easy with Mei, her platonic bond with his allowing him to see the bright green (green for all platonic bonds, not just Mei) countdowns to major events (some bad but usually good, like a major race being announced or taking part in a game tournament spontaneously). The familial blue bond he had with Pigsy and Tang went much the same, as well as Sandy's own platonic bond. He didn't learn that immortal beings had their own color, brilliant gold tinted in whatever the proper bond was until he met Sun Wukong, his gold-green timer slowly changing into a gold-blue bond of family found.

It wasn't until Red Son that MK realized his romantic bonds were a brilliant red (which, in retrospect, could have been seen as funny), shining brilliant and bright and almost blinding him when he caught sight of him properly from far above him (and it nearly made him fall before Wukong forced him to, the traitor). He'd mistaken it for some kind of antagonistic bond before he learned that that was also a type of platonic soulmate. So that was something he shoved deep deep deeeeeep down inside to think about later, especially since a lot of people now a days rarely went after their first romantic soulmate and instead waited for a platonic to change in time.

He never told anyone.

It also wasn't until he tested concentrating on timers with Wukong, for fun and out of sheer curiosity if he really was super immortal, that he realized that immortal's life countdown timer just looked like a mass of rapidly changing numbers screaming in confusion and he decided to never do that again.

Until... the Lunar New Year celebration.

He was curious, scared, and Red Son was there and he let his curiosity get the better of him. He wanted to see if Red was still immortal and if his timer did the same thing.

361 days, 17 hours, 8 minutes, and 42 seconds.

That couldn't have been right.

He tried again.

361 days, 17 hours, 7 minutes, and 30 seconds.

And again.

361 days, 16 hours, 56 minutes, and 45 seconds.

And one last time, after everything was over.

361 days, 12 hours, 1 minute, 29 seconds.

Red Son... had less than a year left to live. Red Son, The Boy Sage Prince, the one who almost defeated Sun Wukong on his journey and eternal thorn in his side... was going to die.

MK hadn't ever really imagined that he could die. He had believed that Red Son was immortal, and maybe he still was. There were ways to kill immortals who weren't all powerful Monkey Kings. But he'd always imagined that, maybe, eventually, they could possibly at least work things out and get to know each other eventually after what happened with WBS.

Now he was plagued with the thought 'what if I'm the one who kills him' and he couldn't handle that so he made up his mind then and there and before Red Son could leave he grabbed him by his jacket collar in front of everyone and changed that thought to 'fuck it' and kissed him and pulled away and looked DBK in the eye and announced "I've known Red is my romantic soulmate since day 1 and I am not wasting anymore time with stupid feuds".

Apparently that was just enough to startle the other man into not attacking and to send Sun Wukong into a frenzy of cackling "I KNEW IT"s.

Red Son turned as red as his jacket on his cheeks and just looked at MK in awe. They had-

361 days, 10 hours, 2 minutes, 16 seconds.

Red hadn't left his parents, not immediately, but the sudden relationship that have been revealed between the successor to the Monkey King and the son of the Demon Bull King had forced everything to a standstill. DBK wanted revenge, PIF wanted her husband to be happy, Sun Wukong wanted to be retired, and all three of them were too stubborn to not insist the two men court each other anyway because tradition dictated that when a romantic soulmate pair revealed their bond no one could force them apart.

352 days, 14 hours, 34 minutes, 18 seconds.

MK felt back constantly checking Red Son's timer, but he didn't want to waste a single second. They had less than a year. He'd seen just how smart and resourceful and, as much as he didn't want to admit it at first, protective and caring for the people he had grown close to he was.

By the end of the month they had moved into Red Son's apartment (he had an apartment?).

322 days, 2 hours, 28 minutes, 50 seconds.

MK learned that Red Son was a fantastic chef, on par with Pigsy even. His food was spicy but over time he learned that MK would suffer through food that was hurting him just to try his food and make it less so. Just for him.

315 days, 2 hours, 45 minutes, 34 seconds.

They kissed for the second time well after they had moved in together. Despite rushing into this they had both been too nervous and flustered to do more than hold hands and sleep side by side in different blankets.

They started sharing a blanket by month 2.

292 days, 8 hours, 1 minute, 12 seconds.

DBK was still pissed at Wukong. No one thought his grudge would ever fully disappear. But he and PIF had stopped attacking. For now. For their son. The best thing they had ever done for him was let him be with his soulmate without fighting.

MK never felt more guilty than when he realized he was never going to tell them. He tried once, after they moved in. After he had truly fallen in love with Red Son. He'd cried too hard to get the words out and PIF had looked torn between telling him to leave and comforting him before she put a shockingly gentle hand on his shoulder.

He could never tell them.

267 days, 18 hours, 59 minutes, 2 seconds.

Red got along amazingly well with Mei and Sandy. The three of them together were a mechanical nightmare for anyone on their bad side and the most amazing team for anyone they made anything for. Red was also the new favorite among Sandy's cats. No one was surprised.

He and Red ended up adopting a little one eyed kitten they found outside Pigsy's Noodles. They named her Bao-Bao. They loved her.

245 days, 7 hours, 29 minutes, 34 seconds.

Naturally nothing was going to be calm for the Monkie Kid. Eventually demons far and wide came to attack either him or the city. The only difference was that, now, he had Red Son by his side.

Every time Red took a hit MK felt no fear. He knew that would not be the hit that killed his soulmate. His soulmate had-

208 days, 19 hours, 78 minutes, 21 seconds.

Red and Tang were fast friends. Red and Mei and Sandy were faster. It had taken longer for Pigsy but he came around fast enough.

Sun Wukong, though. Even after 5 months he was still slightly tense and terse and short with Red. But he had been coming around, slowly. Just like with everyone else, Wukong was hard pressed to open up to anyone who wasn't MK.

They visited Flower Fruit Mountain from time to time, and it was one day when Red had wandered off to enjoy the scenery at MK and Wukong had heard the pained screech of a small monkey in the distance.

When they saw Red calming the little one down, tending to it's wound as best he could, MK saw Wukong properly smile at him for the first time. Soon they had-

157 days, 22 hours, 28 minutes, 59 seconds.

There were still fights. DBK and Sun Wukong didn't get along. But things were better.

There were family game nights. Red and Pigsy and Wukong cooked together. Bao-Bao had grown into a beautiful Tortoise Shell cat (with tortitude included). Everyone promised to try to get along and things were going well. Red Son and MK were truly in love, it seemed. At least MK was. He was certain Red was as well.

That's why MK asked him to marry him that night.

Red said yes.

140 days, 19 hours, 34 minutes, 34 seconds.

Was 7 months too fast? Yes. Did MK care? No. Did anyone object?

Only the demons that showed up to fight. They were taken care of quickly. DBK was not entirely happy about how fast things were but for his only son it seemed he would not allow anything to ruin the day.

He'd changed over the 7 months. Not entirely, not enough for MK to completely forgive him for everything since he had awoken. But seeing him punch a demon into the stratosphere for Red Son was a pretty good marker of how much he was trying.

6 days, 37 hours, 8 minutes, 12 seconds.

Everything was amazing for those few months together. They fought demons. They kissed. They spent time with their family. No longer two families but one family.

Then Macaque came back.

MK had thought he was gone for good, he had been so quiet. But apparently he was planning something the whole time.

Something to kill an immortal.

That was when MK learned he was immortal. And wasn't that ironic?

Macaque had meant to stab him. MK didn't move in time.

Red Son jumped in front of him and there was red.

Macaque wasn't seen again after what MK did to him.

They bandaged the small wound in Red Son's shoulder. They would find a way to fix this. They had to. MK knew what would kill Red Son now, it wasn't that he wasn't immortal it was whatever poison had been meant for him. He knew people had beaten death clocks before.

He had to try.

5 days, 12 hours, 29 minutes, 56 seconds.

5 days, 12 hours, 29 minutes, 55 seconds.

5 days, 12 hours,. 29 minutes, 54 seconds.

That was what MK saw when Red Son coughed up blood for the first time.

4 days, 1 hour, 12 minutes, 13 seconds.

Sun Wukong found out where Macaque had gotten the poison.

There was no cure.

Red coughed more red and MK screamed at the Monkey King to look again. Do something. Anything. Anything...

They didn't see him or DBK for over 2 days.

1 day, 17 hours, 34 minutes, 14 seconds.

1 day, 17 hours, 34 minutes, 13 seconds.

MK watched the countdown timer tick down.

"Why are you still awake?" Red Son had asked him as he held his head in his lap.

"I don't want to miss any more seconds with you," MK answered softly.

"Am I going to... die?" Red Son asked softly.

"Not if Monkey King does what I know he can do," MK answered again. "I know he'll be back soon. I know it. I-"

"MK! MK I'M BACK!" Sun Wukong yelled through the apartment, bursting into their room looking disheveled and like he hadn't stopped moving since he left. But smiling. DBK looked much the same as he came through the door behind him.

"I think we found something!"

1 day, 17 hours, 32 minutes, 2 seconds.

MK prayed that Sun Wukong was right. He was Sun Wukong. He had to be.

1 day, 17 hours, 32 minutes... 3 seconds.

93 notes · View notes

peachithings · 4 years ago

Text

Apartment Hunting

Main Story // The Series Masterlist

Summary: It’s time to look for apartments when suddenly, there was a bit of change with the schedules.

Pairing: Jaehyun x Reader

Words: 4.5k

Genre: established au, idol!jaehyun, youtuber!reader, fluff, suggestive smut

Warning/s: smut, but kinda not? lol only suggestive, nothing too serious, just intimate moments with domestic jaehyun and whatnot, a whole ass paragraph of kissing, also purely unedited i’m sorry :(

Author’s Note/s: this just came to me like a flood lol so this part takes place before they filmed the Q&A. also, idk i iknow this is how i’ll manage when the time for me to move out. don’t judge me, i still live with my loving parents because y’know, we don’t have all the time in the world most esp them since they are also getting old like we do ❤ also it might be the asian in me hahahaha

Happy Lunar New Year, everyone!

tags: @seodojaezz @keeach @hyunniebuns @jaehyvnsvalentine @sunshinedhyuck @bts7aus @gyukult (pls tag or message me if you would like to be included in the taglist!)

»»————-　♡　————-««

The lease with your apartment will be ending in a few months, and it gives just ample time for both of you to look for a new one to move in. But the catch is, Jaehyun is confirmed to star in a new drama that will most probably air early next year. When he broke the news, you would be lying if you said that it did not make you anxious even one bit. But he was so happy to receive the news that he is officially playing the role; you did not dare to tell him. Jaehyun seemed to have noticed it as if he can see through you. He assures you that it will not affect anything for a while and that he will still be actively involved. Also, informing you that filming will start a little after winter starts. You cursed the way he knew you too well. Nonetheless, just knowing that he still will be with you made you feel better.

Trying to cope up with the sudden change of schedule, you open the Notion app on your laptop and create a new page solely dedicated to your future home with the love of your life. You use this app more often than not to make sure that nothing is left undone or forgotten. You have always said in your videos that without it, your life would be a complete mess. Also, once in one of your videos that scheduling and organizing your thoughts help you relieve stress.

With the newly created page putting Just Home Things for the title, you started to look for apartments online, listing them on the app to track and show them to Jaehyun. Generally, you may or may not have spent the last four hours looking and listing apartments making your head throb from looking at your laptop screen for too long. Deciding that it was time to eat something to ease the pain you felt, you head off to your little kitchen, scanning what is in your fridge. You took a mental note that you need to go to the supermarket to stock up in both your fridge and pantry.

You decided to make kimchi fried rice since there was enough kimchi, eggs, and some leftover rice from last night. Plus, it was the easiest thing you could do with what is left.

You heard your phone ring, indicating that there was a message notification while you were cooking. Not wanting to burn anything, you decided to check it later when you are finished.

You believe that as a foreigner, that kimchi fried rice was like a gift from the heavens. It was easy to make, no complicated instructions whatsoever, ingredients can be found within reach, and was delicious. Finishing up, you did not want to transfer the food onto a plate. Deciding it was best to carry the pan over to your table to eat, partnering it with a glass of red wine, then lighting your favorite scented candle. You were so immersed in the moment that you forgot you received a text message a while ago. After eating, you went to the bathroom and took a shower, freshened up a bit, and got changed to your very comfy loungewear.

Checking your phone, you finally saw the message. The notification indicated that it was from your best friend; who lives halfway across the world.

hey bb

Let's face time, call me

Read 08:05 PM

Seeing her message, you replied first before calling her.

Bb you still up for facetime?

Delivered 08:06 PM

Read 08:06 PM

She quickly reacted to your message with a thumbs up. So, you quickly switched from your phone to your laptop and called your best friend on facetime.

Calling Mari…

“Bibi!” she shouted. “It’s been too long,” she sighed.

It is true; it has been too long since the last time since you both had a proper conversation. Sure, you had exchanged a few messages here and there, but it still cannot compare to video calls. In video calls, you both see each other and the raw emotions and reactions to any and everything that you are discussing. Plus, it is way easier to talk rather than type.

“Ugh,” You sighed. “You're right. We have been too busy,” You pouted.

“I know!” She exclaimed. “It also does not help that we live thousands of miles apart,” She cried.

“True,” You nodded. “How are things in Cali?” You asked.

Your best friend migrated to California over two years ago after graduating with you at uni to be with her family. It was sad to see her go, but you promised that you would come to visit her when time permits you to.

“It's been good.” She replied. “But, I have news!” She shrieked while you also got excited to hear the news. “I've been thinking,” She started. “Like a lot, a lot.” She paused for a while causing you to get impatient.

“Bi!” You shouted. “Just spill it,” You continued.

“I'm kind of thinking about moving to New York,” She confessed. “Or Jersey,” She added. “Well, actually, a hotel in New York is hiring me as a supervisor and wants me to relocate over. But, I'm hesitant to leave my family behind. Like, I know New York is a great opportunity, and transferring there would be a big step for me. So, I'm here with you so I could hear your opinions and advice.” She ranted.

“Okay,” You started. “That was quite a lot.” You chuckled. You paused for a moment to collect your thoughts. “Okay, first of all…” You trailed. “What the actual fuck, bi?” You continued. “That is a crazy good opportunity both to you and your career. Do you remember? Back in the day, we used to dream about living in New York after doing an internship there? Plus, you are hella crazy just for thinking of passing up that opportunity!” You exclaimed. “I mean, I know you're crazy, but I never came across you as crazy stupid?” You teased. “Also, you are not leaving your family behind. You could always visit them or come home during the holidays if you could.” You added.

Your best friend listened and nodded, “I guess you're right, bi.”

You and your best friend, Mari, have known each other for a long time. Never, in a million years, would you have thought that you would be friends for a long time. You both met back in uni, taking up the same course, Hotel, Restaurant, and Institution Management. You had one class together during your second year, got paired, and just clicked. From then on, you both tried your best to enroll in the same courses or break times so that you would be able to talk about anything and everything under the sun.

Changing the topic, “How about you, bi? How are things in Seoul?” She asked.

“Honestly?” You countered and she nodded in reply. “Not okay.” You pouted.

“Oh my God, bi, what happened? Are you okay?” She asked worriedly.

You shook your head, “I’m just getting anxious about the move.” You answered. “Because I’m afraid that Jaehyun would not be with me and that I will do most of it alone. I mean, do not get me wrong, he did assure that he would be with me and all. But I could not get it out of my head, you know? Like, it just keeps on squeezing its way into my thoughts.” You ranted and sighed.

“Now, why would you think that?” She asked.

“Jaehyun is taking part in a drama.” You started.

“And, it’s a bad thing because?” Mari interrupted.

“Well, it’s not,” You answered. “It’s the schedule changes,” You continued, with sadness evident in your tone of voice.

“Ah,” She started. “Care to elaborate?”

Truthfully, you also did not know why the sudden changes are making you anxious. Before you answer your best friend, you thought long and hard. “I guess I’m worried that he wouldn’t be able to be present most of the time. Although, he informed that filming does not start ‘til late this year. I don’t know, bi. I guess it’s just me,” You ranted.

“Okay, first of all, bi,” She started, feeling the tears trickle from your eyes. “Whatever you’re feeling, they’re all valid. Also, I suggest you communicate with Jaehyun about it. Don’t bottle things up, bi. You know that’s never good.” She advised while you nodded in response.

At that moment, you knew that it was what you needed. Talking with your best friend felt like a piece of baggage has been lifted off of your shoulders. You felt somehow relieved.

The facetime session you had with Mari went on for a few hours. Both sharing opinions and gossip circulating the people you knew back at uni without bad-mouthing them. Simply, just like providing news. It was both your way of catching up with each other. Since it was getting late in your timezone, it ended up with ‘see you soon’s and with you yawning on the screen.

Shutting your laptop off, you reached for your phone and sent Jaehyun a message.

I’m off to bed. Good night, love

Delivered 11:28 PM

You locked your phone after and just thought of things. Mari is right; I should communicate what I am feeling with Jaehyun, you thought. You were never the one to hold back when it came to you and your feelings, but with Jaehyun, at that moment, it was different. He was so happy to finally have the chance to showcase his acting skills to everyone; you did not want to burden him with your thoughts. You drifted off to sleep and thought of how you should say it to your boyfriend. Surely, he’s going to understand right? You thought. My feelings are valid; you reminded yourself.

The next day, you woke up with a message notification from Jaehyun and a tagged Instagram story from Mari.

Hi, love

Good morning, Sorry I wasn’t able to reply last night

Passed out the moment I hit the sheets

I love you, always

Read 09:14 AM

Baby

I just woke up

It’s alright

Are you free?

Delivered 09:16 AM

Read 09:17 AM

I’m still at the dorms rn

But I’ll just be in the studio today

Why, baby? Everything okay?

Read 09:19 AM

Shall we meet at the studio, then?

I miss you :(

Delivered 09:19 AM

Read 09:20 AM

Ofc love

I’ll see you then

I miss you too :(

Read 09:21 AM

Still laying down on your bed, you looked at the notification from Mari on Instagram. It was a screen capture of the Facetime session last night with you yawning. There was a little caption at the side, in the Instagram story, “Bitch, you better get your shit together. I love you. @_jeongjaehyun Take good care of my bitch,” you read. You typed in your reply without thinking.

Bitch

Don’t tell me, Jaehyun has already seen this before me :(

I love you too

But you cray cray :(

Sent

Seen

Not telling you

But he mayhaps asked

Seen

Bitch

That means he saw it already :(((

We’re meeting later tho

Sent

Seen

That’s good if you’re meeting later

Tell me the deets after!!

Seen

You did not bother replying. Knowing that whatever goes down later, you will tell her. Because she was the only thing that has been constant in your life, since day one. With Jaehyun coming into your life, she knows that he is ‘destined’ for you, saying he would soon take over that title in your life. Also, telling you before, “He’s a keeper, never let him go,” “Don’t let him outta your sight, bi,” and “If he does not ask you out, hell, ask him out. It's the twenty-first century for goodness sake.”

At one point, you were so close to following her advice to ask him out, to your surprise, Jaehyun was already planning and making arrangements on asking you out. Date after date, he knew you were the one and said, “Be my girlfriend,” in the middle eating pizza and watching Netflix. He said it so casually but with conviction as if he was not giving you any other choice other than saying yes. Now, thinking back, you found it cute and fluffy.

After that little flashback, you got up and made your bed. Soon after, going to the kitchen to fix an avocado toast and brew peppermint tea for breakfast. You head over to your living room with the breakfast you made and turned on the television seamlessly switch to Netflix to re-watch F.R.I.E.N.D.S.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Fast forward to meeting Jaehyun in the studio.

You thought of buying food first before heading to the studio to meet up with Jaeyun. You decided to buy chicken, the comfort food. Also, because let us face it, who does not like chicken? Everyone must like to eat chicken at some point, right?

Arriving at the studio, you felt nervous, your heart racing as if you were running a marathon. Choosing to ignore the feeling, thinking it would go away instead, with every inch closer to the room, you started to hear your heart pound growing louder. Still, you chose to ignore and braced yourself upon entering the room.

“Hi, love,” You greeted.

Jaehyun turned his attention to you, getting up from his seat, giving you the tightest hug. “Baby, I missed you,” He whispered. “Too much,” He added, with a pout forming on his mouth.

You chuckled in his embrace, your nervousness fading away. “I missed you, too,” You breathed.

Breaking the embrace, Jaehyun gave you his brightest smile showing off his dimples, one of your most favorite features on his face. He was always the bubbly and happiest person he could be whenever you are near him. And it radiates to everyone around, especially to you.

He led you on the couch and sat down.

“You bought food?” He asked.

“Yeah, figured y’all would be hungry,” You responded with a smile.

Jaehyun opened a box of chicken for you and him, brought over one to the producers he is working with, while the two boxes left would be shared with the other members that would be coming in later in the day. Everyone in the room thanked you for the meal before digging in. While eating you decide to start the conversation with your boyfriend.

“Baby,” You called out. “I wanted to tell you something,” You continued. He hummed in reply, still eating. “I know that you felt it while you told me your good news but I just want to tell it to you personally,” You added. “I don’t want to keep things from you,” You confessed.

“Babe, it’s okay. I knew you felt anxious about the sudden changes,” He started. “And I do know that you are happy with my achievements but, I want you to know that you are my priority. Whatever happens, you will always come first,” He assured, smiling at you. His smile could heal anything, even the deepest wounds.

You leaned over to kiss his cheek, “You always know the right things to say at the right time. I love you,” You said. With happiness and contentment evident in your eyes, at that moment, you knew; you are his, and he is yours, for a lifetime.

Your time in the studio went on pretty quickly, as you watch the love of your life do what he does best; singing. His deep voice captivating you, like the pied piper lured the children. In a good sense, though. He made you feel things, just by his voice paired with the gaze he kept giving you. Those gazes that he sends you in the bedroom, making you wet. Causing you to squeeze your thighs together in the most discreet way possible. Just a little more, and it will all be over, you thought. At least, that was what you thought. In the meantime, you tried with the best of your ability to block off of any lewd thoughts.

And boy, were you so wrong thinking that you could go back to your apartment as quickly as possible to relieve yourself. But just as Jaehyun was finishing up, he insisted on taking you home. You have never seen Jaehyun moved this fast, quickly saying his goodbyes and thanks to the producer. And then, dashed out of the studio dragging you by the hand.

When you arrived at the building of your apartment, Jaehyun was already getting impatient. He was continuously pressing the up button of the lift. And when it came, he was so thankful that it was just the two of you getting on it. Solely because he knows he will not be able to keep his hands to himself. He did not even think that he can make it to your bedroom.

When the lift closed, he was quick to put his lips on you, not giving a single fuck about the CCTV, taking you off guard. His kiss was definitely not like the usual kisses he gives you. The kiss was more hungry, more passionate as if he ready to devour you then and there. The lift dinged, indicating that it had reached the floor of your apartment. But your boyfriend cannot be bothered to detach his lips from yours, leading you out, navigating to your door. When you reached your apartment door, he stepped away for a moment while you fumble to enter your passcode.

Upon entering your apartment, Jaehyun did not waste any moment, immediately kissing you against the wall. He started to strip you off of your clothing one by one until you were in your underwear while leading him to your couch, sitting him down. You straddled his lap, caressing his cheeks. You were making him more impatient than he already is; he craved friction. He was craving you, and you were going to give just what he wants. You satisfied each other, making it one hell of a night for you two.

Waking up next to Jaehyun will always be one of your favorite things in the world, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything. You could stare at him sleeping all day and wouldn’t bore you.

“It is not nice to stare.” He said, eyes still closed.

“Yeah? I was drooling over you too.” You joked, making him chuckle. “Should we get some breakfast?” You asked.

While slowly opening his eyes, he hummed, agreeing to you. “Are we getting delivery or making one?” He questioned.

“Let’s just get delivery, I’m sore,” You pouted at him.

“Really?” He teased, wiggling his brows. “I didn’t hear you complain last night, though?” He continued, giving you a kiss. You giggled in response.

He reached for his phone on the bedside table and launched a delivery service app.

“Babe, what do you want?” He asked, looking at his phone.

“Maybe some waffles,” You suggested.

“Are you craving for one?” He asked.

“Yeah, a bit.” You answered. “Plus, I have some fruits that we could use for toppings,” You continued.

“Alright, waffles it is.” He said, smiling at you, and added, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” You answered, giving him a kiss.

Soon after, the delivery arrived. You asked Jaehyun to get them saying that your body was sore and you couldn’t walk properly.

Well, it is true; your body was definitely sore. Especially from the way he was going at it last night. Sex with Jaehyun is never boring. It may not seem like it, but he was open to trying new things in the bedroom with you. And sometimes, even outside. Last night was different; it was so sensual yet rough. He took his time last after the first round. He explored each and every part of your body, not leaving anything untouched. It was surreal and heavenly.

Jaehyun came back to the room and carried you to the kitchen.

“Let’s eat.”

“Thank you for the food,” you said in unison.

“Babe, I took the liberty of searching online for apartments,” You informed. “I jotted them down on my laptop. We could divide the apartments that we like to see into several days. That way, we would be able to check some little by little.” You rambled.

“That’s a good idea.” He said, amused at you. “Taeyong hyung recommended the budongsan he went to when they were looking for apartments.”

“Oh, that’s lovely.” You mused. “A budongsan would be of great help.”

The morning continued with talks of apartment hunting, setting dates to visit the apartments, and contacting the budongsan that Taeyong recommended.

*a budongsan refers to a real estate agency*

»»————-　♡　————-««

Fast forward to checking apartments.

The camera is positioned on the dashboard of Jaehyun’s car.

“Hello, everybody!” You started, Jaehyun waved while keeping his eyes on the road.

“Today, we’re taking you apartment hunting,” You trailed. “We already have a realtor, which was from a recommendation by Tyongie oppa. And she’s taking us to see the apartments I listed.” You continued. “Also, can we appreciate how bubba looks so manly driving?” You teased, making him smile.

“Why don’t we show them how you drive?” He asked. “She recently got her driver’s license here in Korea. Although, she is a licensed driver in her home country for a few years now. She was just too lazy to apply here.” He chuckled, making you playfully glare at him.

“I was not lazy.” You answered. “It was just my excuse.” You giggled.

“Anyway,” Changing the topic. “We’re here now,” You said. “We’re just picking up the realtor that will show us around.” You continued, taking the camera off the dashboard so that the realtor’s face will not show in the frame.

The next clip was a montage of the first apartment you went to. It was way too little and was only a one-bedroom apartment.

“Okay, you guys saw it too.” You started. “That was a complete scam. This is why you should never trust the apps,” You continued, making Jaehyun laugh beside you.

“Yes, the apps are not exactly helpful.” He said. “It’s still better to do it the traditional way, which is going to a budongsan.” He continued. “If you’re a foreigner, I suggest you bring someone with you who speaks Korean fluently to help you.” He added.

“Also, beware of some, though.” You added. Jaehyun nodded, agreeing with you.

The second apartment was close by, choosing to walk to get some exercise.

“What do you think of the second one?” You asked Jaehyun.

“It was okay.” He answered. “But it still wasn’t the type we were looking for, unfortunately. There is a huge window but, the view was entirely blocked by another building, which is a hard no for me.” He rambled.

“Mine too, Hard no on the second one.” You said. “We really wanted an apartment with a good view.”

The next clips were a montage of the different apartments on your list for several days. And it was all a no from both of you. In which transitions to a sit-down video of you, explaining what you both wanted in an apartment.

“So, you guys have seen a video montage of the apartments we went to. They were all the apartments that I have listed while surfing the internet. But unfortunately, neither of the apartments were approving to our preferences.” You sighed.

“Initially, Jaehyun and I had compiled the preferences for our future home that we would like to have.” You started. “And these were the following: one, It has to have windows. It has to be of decent size, though. Two, it needs to have two bedrooms. Because we wanted to have a separate room that we could use as some sort of office since I work remotely. It was actually Jaehyun’s idea to have the second room be my workspace. If you’re wondering about his piano, I specially told him I wanted it inside our bedroom so that he could play for me from time to time.” You rambled.

“A few apartments down, I came to realize that I should have added the distance to his work in our preference. We met with our realtor again, but this time, we went to apartments that are much closer to Jae’s work.” You continued. “This is so unfortunate that I am saying this alone,” You pouted. “But after several apartments later, we finally found the one.” You announced with excitement. “The windows were huge! And it has a cityscape view, which I dearly admire. It’s so breathtaking at nighttime. The apartment has three bedrooms. I know it was more than what we initially wanted, but the third room is actually a separate laundry room. So basically, two bedrooms. Also, I couldn’t be more excited for the tub that I impulsively bought a bag full of bath bombs and bubble bars.” You rambled, showing the bag full of a variety of bath essentials. “I got carried away from my excitement, Jaehyun does not know about this. But since I just announced it here, he would most probably know about this once this gets uploaded. So, babe, if you’re watching, you know I love you, right? Let’s use these soon!” You rambled, making yourself giggle. “We are most probably going to move-in just in time before Jaehyun gets really busy. Which was a relief since it was what I was anxious about the most.”

The next clip transitioned to a video montage of your unfurnished home.

“Thank you, for watching another episode of the Moving series. I hope you guys enjoyed it, I’ll see you on the next one!” You bid goodbye and waved at the camera.

The video ended.

»»————-　♡　————-««

ynsphotoroll: we finally moved 👏🏻

wwiin_7, and 22 others liked your post.

johnnysuh: alright, we now have a new hang out place 😍

ynsphotoroll replied to johnnysuh: uhm, no 🤩

do0_nct replied to johnnysuh: let's trash the place!

johnnysuh liked do0_nct's comment.

ynsphotoroll replied to do0_nct: this app should have a freaking 💔 button, i'd use it specifically with you 🙃

_jeongjaehyun: hyung don't bully my love @do0_nct 😠

ynsphotoroll liked _jeongjaehyun's comment.

ynsphotoroll replied to _jeongjaehyun: bleh 😝 @do0_nct

do0_nct replied to _jeongjaehyun: a 💔 for you 🙂

onyourm_ark: noona we just want to play on your console 😔

ynsphotoroll replied to onyourm_ark: uhm, don't you guys have your own???

onyourm_ark replied to ynsphotoroll: we do, but we like your new place better hehehe

ynsphotoroll replied to onyourm_ark: i'll think about it first 🤔

_jeongjaehyun: we're cat-sitting for the weekend ❤

do0_nct: can we come over?

ynsphotoroll replied to do0_nct: still, no

do0_nct replied to ynsphotoroll: we're not coming over for u 💅🏻

ynsphotoroll replied to do0_nct: then, you won't get an invite for tonight 💁🏻‍♀️

do0_nct replied to ynsphotoroll: ok, i take it back. we want to see you 🤩

_jeongjaehyun replied to ynsphotoroll: my feed is not a chat room people! go reply in our group @do0_nct

nct127: we already got our invites, @do0_nct. thank you @ynsphotoroll we ❤ u

wavyofficial: we got ours, too ❤

nct_dream: ours, too ❤

ynsphtoroll liked nct127, wayvofficial and nct_dream's comments.

do0_nct: invite me, too. please 🥺 @ynsphotoroll

ynsphotoroll replied to do0_nct: since you asked nicely, ok ❤

»»————-　♡　————-««

< previous // next >

Main Story // The Series Masterlist

Author’s Note/s: Feedback is always appreciated, you can send them in my ask ❤

Also, you can send me a coffee and leave a feedback hehe

#jaehyun #nct #jeong jaehyun #nct jaehyun #jaehyun series #jaehyun fluff #fanfic #jaehyun smut #fic; moving in

127 notes · View notes

pogokitten · 4 years ago

Text

Lost and Found

By @pogokitten for @lost-lunar-wolf

Rating: Teen (for swears)

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Happy Hogan, Ben Parker, May Parker

Summary: People lose things all the time, keys, toys, favorite socks. It happens, it’s just a part of life. But sometimes these lost items make their way to soulmates. It’s phenomena as old as civilization itself. You lose your favorite hair tie and poof, it just appears near your soulmate for them to find and eventually return. Romantic or Platonic, it’s expected that everyone stumbles over some of their soulmates' lost items here and there. Some people just end up waiting longer than others.

Or: The platonic soulmate AU where Tony and Peter find and hold onto a lot of each other’s stuff over the years.

Tony is speed walking through his mansion the first time it happens. He’s not paying attention, tie barely on straight and coffee almost sloshing out of his cup as he rushes for the door. He’s late for a meeting and usually he wouldn’t care, but Obie has been up his ass about this one. Something about a grouchy general that thinks Stark Industries weapons are overpriced and overhyped needing convincing.

So when Tony stumbles on something caught under his dress shoes, he finds himself cursing colorfully as splashes of coffee dot the marble floor. He glares down at the offending object when he has his footing, fully expecting it to be a tool or something that migrated out of the workshop.

The engineer stops short and stares however, when he takes in the soft blue baby binky on his floor.

Tony is no stranger to having strange things in his house, being an eccentric billionaire and all, but he has absolutely no clue how a pacifier of all things has ended up on his floor.

Tony scoops the binkie off the floor examining it, completely baffled.

It looks new if the bright color and barely chewed appearance is anything to go by. Tony wracks his brain for any possible reason a pacifier could have made its way into his home. This wasn’t a week for the cleaners so it wouldn’t be something of theirs, and the only other people who have been in his house since yesterday were Happy and Pepper.

The engineer knows Happy himself is allergic to children, but doesn’t he have a sister or something? Does she have a kid? Maybe it got mixed up in Happy’s things? It’s not the most plausible explanation.

As for Pepper, Tony’s pretty fucking sure she doesn’t have a kid. He knows from her comments that she doesn’t have much in the way of family anymore and that she’s single. Maybe one of her college friends has kids? Could one of their kid’s binkies have ended up in her purse during a visit or something?

The theory’s not great, but that’s at least more believable than Happy being the culprit, and for the life of him, Tony doesn’t know where else the thing would have come from.

Tony stuffs the pacifier into his pocket and continues out the door resolving to ask Pepper about it later.

---

Tony never ends up asking Pepper about the binky.

He came home from an extremely long day at the office spent schmoozing the stuffy general and tossed the thing out of his pocket along with his keys onto a cluttered table in the workshop. He then proceeded to drink the night away to dull the built up tension. When JARVIS wakes him up the next morning, the pacifier is a distant memory due to his ragging hangover and Obie calling to talk business.

It’s not until a few months later that the binky even crosses Tony’s mind again.

It’s another typical day in the life of a party addicted billionaire genius, when Pepper pages him through JARVIS to help her into the house. Tony finally emerges from his lab for the first time that day, muttering equations under his breath. He’s lost in his own head, still focused on the designs he’s been hammering out downstairs.

So Tony nearly falls on his ass when he steps onto something that slides under his feet in the entryway. The engineer is quick to catch himself, heart still racing from the near drop, and looks around irritably for damn banana peel or whatever it was that almost killed him.

He quickly spots what looks like a scrap of fabric nearby. Grumbling, Tony snatches it off the floor and realizes it's not a pocket square or a tie like he thought.

No, it’s a lovey.

He gapes at the toy with wide eyes.

The blanket bit of the toy is a soft yellow fabric, the stuffed animal portion a smiling dog with floppy ears. It’s a bit love worn and could probably use a wash, but it doesn’t seem especially old.

It also absolutely shouldn’t be here.

No one else has been in the mansion for the last two days except for him, and Tony knows the lovey wasn’t there this morning.

“JARVIS, did someone break into the house to leave baby toys for me to trip on, and you just neglected to tell me?” Tony asks.

“Of course not, sir,” the AI says, sounding almost offended, “No one has been inside of the mansion aside from yourself and I would have alerted you to a perimeter breach.”

“Then how is this here?” Tony questions, holding the toy up to the nearest camera.

“It simply appeared in the foyer, sir,” JARVIS tells him.

“That’s impossible, things don’t just appear.”

“It is possible, sir. I thought it would be obvious,” the AI refutes, a hint of a smirk in his tone.

Tony rolls his eyes. “Not in the mood right now, J.”

“I believe that your soulmate has lost both the toy in your hand and the pacifier you found approximately three months ago,” JARVIS explains.

Any sort of snappy retort dies in Tony’s throat and he snaps his gaze back to the lovey he’s holding.

Soulmates were not something that Tony Stark had thought about often in the past two decades of his life.

Growing up he’d been as intrigued by soulmates as any child his age, waiting to find mysterious clothes or toys like many of his peers. He’d waited and hoped and looked for years, anything to ease the loneliness of the Stark Mansion. Only to find himself at the age of fifteen without a single lost and found object to his name. That had been when he started to doubt, when he stopped looking for items that weren’t his and steered away from conversations about soulmates.

It’s not unheard of to not have a soulmate until adolescence and beyond, but after he hit twenty-one, Tony had concluded that the cosmos hadn’t bothered to give him one. That, or his soulmate had died before they’d had anything to lose besides their life.

He is well past the age where he would have gotten a romantic soulmate bond, but a platonic or familial one…

It’s pretty common knowledge that a lot of parents and children share a familial soulmate bond, and it’s not like Tony is the most...celibate...person in the world. He’s been careful about his fun, but could it have happened? Or was this some random kid who had gotten stuck with Tony Stark as their ‘shared soul’ by the misfortune of fate?

Tony stares at the lovey in shock while his thoughts race for a long enough amount of time that Pepper irritably rings the doorbell again. Still practically in a trance, Tony opens the door for her on autopilot.

Pepper bustles into the mansion carrying several packages of mail and one of his freshly dry cleaned suits, strands of her vibrant hair escaping the usually tidy bun they’re usually pinned up in.

“Finally! I’ve been standing out there holding all these boxes for ages! Really, Mr. Stark what in the world did you order that’s so-?”

“Pep…” Tony manages to choke out, the nickname and his tone catching her attention.

His PA puts the mail and dry cleaning on a side table and turns back to him, concern on her face.

“Mr. Stark?” she asks.

With a slightly trembling hand he holds the lovey out to her. “I… I found this. And a binky a while ago. I’ve got… I’ve got a soulmate.”

“Oh… Mr. Stark-” Pepper’s mouth opens in shock as she takes in the toy, before her eyes crinkle in a smile, “Tony, that’s wonderful.”

“God look at this thing,” Tony chuckles, and to his slight horror, it’s a bit of a wet sound, “Between this and the binky, the kid can’t be more than half a year, huh?”

“I’d say so.” Pepper says smiling down at the little plush toy.

Tony swallows. “Do you think he’s mine?”

His PA looks back up at him, eyebrow raised slightly. “He?”

“Just a feeling.”

“A feeling, huh?” Pepper smiles, “Well he is yours. Your soulmate. It doesn’t matter if this child is yours biologically, because you’re going to care about them either way right?”

Tony nods, unable to voice any of his vulnerable thoughts. Too many emotions are still swirling inside, crowding his mind.

“Besides I don’t think he’s blood related to you,” Pepper tells him.

“How do you know?” Tony asks.

She gives him a bit of smirk. “Just a feeling.”

Tony gives a little laugh, giving her a grin in return. But eventually he looks back at the toy in his hands and feels it slip off his face. In his bones, he already knows that the bond he and his soulmate will have is going to be a familial extension of a platonic soulmate bond. Or more accurately, a paternal one. And that absolutely scares the shit out of Tony.

“What’s wrong?” Pepper questions, peering down at his whitening knuckles.

“Even if he’s not mine by blood, I don’t want to be like my dad,” Tony confesses in a rush, “I can’t keep the cycle going… I-”

“You won’t,” Pepper cuts him off, “The fact that you’re worried about that at all is proof enough that you care, and that you want to be better than Howard. So you will be.”

Tony doesn’t say anything to that, gaze dropping back to the lovey in his hands. He wants to be better than his father, but can he be? He’s been following in Howard Stark’s promiscuous alcoholic shadow for a long time now. But he owes it to this kid, and Pepper, and hell, even himself to try and be better.

Pepper eventually clears her throat. “Will that be all Mr. Stark?”

Tony gives her a genuine smile, the kind that is reserved only for the few people he trusts and cares for. “That will be all Ms.Potts.”

***

Peter sits on the couch in his aunt and uncle’s apartment pouting. The adults are standing near the doorway, talking. Sure he loves Aunt May and Uncle Ben, but he loves his Mommy and Daddy more, and they’ve been going on trips so much lately. They just went on a trip a few weeks ago and now they’re going on another one. And this one is so far away.

“We should probably head out. Thanks so much for looking after Pete this week,” Peter hears his dad say.

“Of course, we love having Peter,” May tells him.

“Don’t go!” Peter jumps up from the couch and tackles his mom’s leg.

“It’s not for long sweetheart,” she soothes, brushing his hair back, “Daddy and I have to go to a few boring meetings. You’ll have more fun here with Uncle Ben and Aunt May.”

“But I’ll miss you!” Peter whines.

“And we’ll miss you kiddo, but we’ll be back before you know it,” his dad says, kneeling down to hug him.

Then his dad picks him up so his mom can hug them too. Peter likes it when they all hug like that, it makes him feel warm and super safe.

“Love you. Bye-bye,” Peter mumbles into the embrace sadly.

He knows by now that no amount of begging will get them to stay, but that doesn’t stop him from trying at least a little bit every time.

His mom kisses his forehead. “And we love you Peter.”

Peter’s parents set him down and hug his aunt and uncle before they step out of the apartment and are gone. Peter’s eyes feel hot, but he doesn’t want to cry. He’s six, so he’s almost big now. Mommy said it was okay to cry no matter how old you are, but most of the other boys at school just make fun of Peter for it.

Aunt May cards her fingers through his hair. “Why don’t you go get settled, sweetie. Then we’ll all go to the park so you can play and feed the birds?”

Peter nods, subdued, and shuffles to the small guest room with his backpack and suitcase.

He sniffs back tears while he makes quick work of his suitcase, throwing his clothes haphazardly into the dresser, but takes much more care with his backpack.

Peter unzips it, double checking that all of his prized possessions are there. His dumb inhaler that he has to carry everywhere, check. His GameBoy and the handful of games he has, check. Toebeans, his stuffed snow leopard, check. His three favorite action figures at the moment, check. And… Peter panics for a moment before he feels his hand close around cold metal.

With a sigh of relief, Peter pulls the tool from his bag.

The screwdriver is small, the perfect size for Peter’s little hands. It’s old and its red handle is worn. Uncle Ben told him it’s for putting together small delicate things since it’s way too small for normal sized screws. Daddy said the screwdriver had turned up in Peter’s crib when he was just a few weeks old. He had explained that it belonged to Peter’s soulmate and that they must have lost it.

Peter’s soulmate must usually be good about not losing things though, since Peter hasn’t found that much stuff. So far it’s just been things like nuts and bolts or a couple of pretty neckties. Peter’s pretty sure his soulmate must be a grown up, since they never seem to lose fun stuff, like toys. Ned’s soulmate always loses toys, like My Little Pony dolls and plastic dinosaurs.

Still Peter keeps all the things he finds, even if they’re usually kinda boring. Uncle Ben and Daddy always say it’s important to return lost items, and there’s no way Peter would ever be mean to his soulmate. Especially when holding his soulmate's screwdriver makes him feel better whenever he’s sad. It’s familiar and it makes him feel safe, like his parents’ hugs.

Staring down at the screwdriver, Peter wonders what lost stuff his soulmate has from him.

...Maybe they’ve got that bouncy ball he lost two weeks ago? It was a really good one. He hopes they have fun with it.

Still Peter can’t wait to meet his soulmate, even if they are old. Mommy told him to be patient, but Peter’s never really been the best at that. Daddy said they would meet when the time was right and he and his soulmate needed each other most. Whatever that means.

“Peter! Come on, let’s hit the park!” His uncle calls.

The boy quickly puts the screwdriver back and zips his bag closed, swinging it onto his shoulders. “Coming, Uncle Ben!”

His aunt and uncle lead him from the apartment, his little hand clasped in his uncle’s calloused one.

Uncle Ben gives his hand a squeeze and a gentle smile when Peter looks up at him. “Buck up champ, your parents will be back before you know it.”

“Yeah,” Peter smiles and never once that week did he think Uncle Ben would be wrong.

***

They’ve just finished a meager dinner of mostly tasteless stew, and Tony wants nothing more than to collapse after another day of hard labor. He’s lost track of how many days he’s been in this godforsaken cave, no longer having any concept of time after being hidden away underground. Since that first week, most days have been the same. Tony and Yinsen desperately trying to craft the instrument of their escape without being caught, all while making their captors believe they’re cooperating.

It's a terrifyingly fine tightrope they’re walking.

At least he’s finally getting used to the constant pain of the reactor in his chest, something he’s very likely to live with for the rest of his life. However long that may be.

Tony has just stood and turned away from the fire, intending to finally sleep, when he stumbles over something in his exhausted state. He glances down half-heartedly, expecting a rock or a divet in the cave floor only to freeze when he sees it.

It’s an action figure of some sort. Clearly a superhero of some kind, his outfit is red and white with a helmet that hides his face. Tony thinks he’s flicked passed this show on TV once or twice. Power...Something. Power Riders..? No that’s not quite it.

Tony picks the toy up, feeling his lip quirk slightly despite himself.

“Stark?” Yinsen questions, coming over to look at what he’s holding.

“My kid...my soulmate,” Tony explains with a sad little huff of laughter at the other man’s raised eyebrow, “They must have lost this.”

“My children are the same, always misplacing their things,” Yinsen tells him with a nostalgic smile, “What are they like?”

“Well…” Tony heaves out a breath, blinking away the sudden urge to cry, “He’s a little boy if I had to guess, probably around seven or eight since that’s how long I’ve been tripping over his toys. He likes action figures and Legos, considering how many he loses, but I don’t...really know. I… I never got to meet him.”

And it’s true, he hasn’t. And god it feels like everything’s been a waste. He never even got to meet the little kid who’s stuff he’s been stumbling over for years. And now Tony’s in a cave held captive by terrorists with shrapnel near his heart, the only thing keeping him alive being the electromagnet in his chest and the knowledge of a missile his captives want him to build.

Yinsen puts a hand on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “You have not gotten to meet him yet.”

The engineer nods then, his jaw set. “Not yet.”

After that, Tony makes sure to keep the action figure close during his time in the cave with Yinsen. It’s almost obsessive how many times he checks that it’s still in the same place. But it’s like a little spark of hope in their dark cavern, a tangible reminder that there’s a life out there for him to return to, if he can just escape this hell.

Tony’s got to make sure he’s there to give all those toys back to the kid someday, after all.

***

Peter blinks awake sluggishly when May shakes his shoulder. “Come on. Get dressed sweetheart, breakfast is almost done. I know you don’t want to, but the two weeks the school let us have is up.”

Right. He’d been trying so hard not to think about it, he nearly forgot.

“Yeah,” he mumbles.

Peter pulls his aching body, sore from tossing and turning, out of bed while rubbing sleep from his eyes. Last night was definitely one of the worst nights he’s had these past two weeks. The teen had spent the first half of it shifting restlessly, unable to sleep, then he’d cried for at least an hour or two before finally succumbing to his exhaustion.

The boy shuffles into his clothes, not even bothering to check what he’s wearing. Moving to the bathroom, Peter cringes at his reflection after he finishes brushing his wild curls. He’s pale as a ghost, but his eyes are red and watery. Dark shadows sit under them, marks of the past two weeks of mostly sleepless nights.

He looks horrible. Like he’s a zombie or is deathly ill. There’s no way people won’t notice. The teen is really not looking forward to all the pitying looks and whispers he’s going to get just from the news he’s sure has gotten around, let alone how he looks like a ghost. Peter really doesn’t want to go back to school today...or well ever. Going back to “normal” after Ben… Well, it just doesn’t seem possible.

Unbidden more tears spring to his eyes.

Peter sighs, dropping his gaze back to the sink.

To his surprise an unfamiliar pair of sunglasses are sitting on the porcelain edge. Peter picks them up examining them, already aware that they don’t belong to May...or Ben. They’re a nice pair of sunglasses from what he can tell. The lenses are a deep red so dark it looks black, the frames a dark burnished metal. Clearly some really expensive name brand that probably costs near the apartment’s monthly rent.

Impulsively, Peter slips them on and checks out his reflection in the mirror. To his relief, they do a great job of hiding his red rimmed eyes and the dark shadows underneath them, perfect for his first day back to school. And he can admit, although they’re a smidge big, he does look pretty cool in them.

Peter slides them off and slips them into his hoodie pocket so that May doesn’t see. She probably wouldn’t approve of him trying to wear them all day. But hopefully his teachers will give him some leeway since they’ve probably all heard what happened.

Worst comes to worst, he can just lie and say he has a migraine or something.

He eats a solemn and slightly charred breakfast with May, sharing a long and tight hug with her before he forces himself to head out. As soon as he’s clear of their building, Peter slips the sunglasses back onto his face.

On the streets, no one gives him a second glance, but it is New York after all and that’s just the norm. The real test starts when he finally makes it to the front steps of his school. There are some kids milling around outside chatting about their weekends in the few minutes before the first bell. He slips past them easily enough, with only a few brief glances thrown his way.

In the hallway some of the students and teachers do give him lingering looks, but he keeps the glasses on and his head down and the whispers are minimal. When Peter finally makes it to his locker, he breaths out a sigh of relief. The sunglasses do attract a few lingering looks, but no one has commented on his distressed state.

He keeps them on for the rest of the day, sighting a migraine when asked. None of the teachers seem keen to try and force him to take them off, as expected. Peter’s pretty sure it’s just because none of them want to be responsible for making him cry or have a breakdown.

He ends up wearing the sunglasses a few more days that week, on the mornings after rough nights. The sunglasses almost feel like a shield, protecting him from prying eyes. It feels a bit like his soulmate is there, letting Peter hide behind them. They make him feel safe, and like he’s not an open book for the first time since that fatal gunshot rang out.

Eventually, after the rubbed raw pain of Ben’s death has faded a bit, the glasses end up tucked away with the little red screwdriver in the box that holds his most precious items.

***

Tony really wants a drink, despite all his promises to Pepper. He really has been trying to lay off since they finally got back together after such a long break. Not to mention he’d gotten black out drunk so many times in the first few weeks after Siberia that the few people left in his life had come together and begged him to stop before he killed himself. Tony’s a lot older than he was when he went out drinking every night after his parents were killed, and the drinking isn’t nearly as gratifying as it was then.

He hates that it’s still a struggle to not seek alcohol out on his own.

Now more than ever, especially after Ultron and the media dubbed “Civil War”, Tony wonders if he’s even managed to do any good in the world as Iron Man. More and more it seems like he just makes bigger messes than the ones he tries to clean up. Sure, he’s had his good moments, but they feel like they pale in comparison to all his missteps.

Not to mention how even when it’s a group failure, most of the world is content in letting just him take the fall. Everyone else seems to get off scot-free while Tony and his loved ones are left in the blast radius of the aftermath.

The engineer sighs, heading back to his lab after taking a stressful SI call in his office upstairs. FRIDAY opens the door for him without comment and he heads towards the single worktable he’s managed to set up so far in the compound. But then Tony blinks at the backpack that’s now sitting on top of the letter and dinosaur tech Rogers mailed him.

The bag is dark blue and little worn, something inexpensive that’s easily bought at big box stores. Feeling a bit excited, almost like he’s opening a present, Tony pulls the first zipper open. This isn’t the first backpack his kid’s lost, but it is weird that it’s happened at least four times this year alone.

Inside he finds a handful of pens and pencils, a mostly blank notebook with some pretty high level physics in it, an advanced calculus textbook that’s seen better days, and a change of clothes. There’s no name of course, because the universe hates to “ruin the surprise” as the saying goes, but it still tells Tony a bit more about the type of person his kid is.

Obviously the kid is incredibly smart, although Tony already knew that from finding the kid’s advanced biochem notebook in the first lost backpack and seeing the sort of stuff he was working on (Some of which seemed to be of the kid’s own initiative and was complex enough that Tony himself had needed to brush up on the subject to decode it).

He also knows that the kid must not come from a super wealthy household going by the cheap bag and worn clothes. Of course he already knew that too. Most of the stuff that the kid’s lost is generally well taken care of, but always inexpensive. That knowledge had certainly gotten Tony to fund a lot more scholarships for advanced school programs around New York City. Not that he knows where the kid is other than somewhere in America, but it still made Tony happy funding the future.

Smiling slightly, Tony puts everything back in the bag and is about to take it to store with the rest of the kid’s stuff when he catches sight of the pin buttons decorating the front. One is a Star Wars one with some nerdy meme on it, but the other one has the Iron Man mask on it. He lets out a surprised and almost wet laugh. Even after all these years he's still the kid’s favorite.

Tony will never forget the first Iron Man drawing he’d found that the kid had done, or the first action figure of himself he’d tripped over in the lab. Tony remembers preening like a peacock and showing the toy off to Pepper, Rhodey, and even Happy for the next week.

Somehow, despite all the shit he’s done, Tony must have done something right to end up as his kid’s hero. Becoming a superhero might not be why he originally set out to be Iron Man, but somewhere along the way he learned that he couldn’t just stand by and let people get hurt. Tony may not be as much as a pure hearted superhero as the spider kid, but it’s nice to have a reminder that he’s still got people to live up to.

Speaking of the kid, Peter is eager for sure. He’s smart as a whip and has a good heart despite all the times the universe has shit on him. And young as he is, the spiderling is using his superpowers with a maturity that most kids his age wouldn’t have. That and he did really well in Germany.

Tony looks back at the backpack frowning. Iron Man won’t be around forever, as much as Tony hates to admit it, he is getting old. And with almost all of the Avengers in the wind, he needs to make sure there are still heroes, real heroes, for the world to believe in.

Tony nods to himself and pulls up the design for the Iron Spider suit.

***

Peter pulls himself out from under the rubble of the collapsed warehouse, gasping for breath, limbs still shaking. Behind him the rubble shifts and tumbles further and the teen is quick to scramble away from it, coughing at the dust it kicks up. For a moment he just stands there trying to catch his breath and still his shaking.

Holy shit, that just happened. The Vulture dropped an entire building on him and left him to die. Peter can feel the embers of his panic trying to crawl up his throat and reignite. He already knows this incident is gonna be nightmare fuel to rival the ones he has about Ben’s death. Just like that night, Peter feels like he lost something of himself, only this time it was lost under the rubble and not in a puddle of blood.

But he thankfully doesn’t have time to dwell on it.

There’s no telling how far Toomes has gotten while he was trapped under the warehouse. Peter needs to move now if he wants to stop the villain from stealing dangerous Avengers tech. If that stuff gets out on the streets no one in New York City, or maybe even the country would be safe. The thought of what kinds of people Toomes could sell those weapons to is horrifying.

People are in danger, and even if Peter messes up or disappoints Mr. Stark again, he can’t let anyone get hurt when he has the power to stop it.

So, still trembling slightly, Peter raises his arm and shoots off a web, swinging into the night after the Vulture.

He doesn’t give a single thought to his Spider-Man mask, lost and left behind in the debris.

***

Tony is in the Avengers Compound again when he finds it.

Moving all the old Avengers tech to the compound has proven to be a nightmare. He’s still got the government up his ass after the “Civil War” debacle. Not to mention the modified alien weapons on the streets that both the DODC and FBI have been too incompetent to get a handle on, or even find the source of. But he’s still so busy with SI, the Accords, and the move upstate that he doesn’t have the time to track the guy properly at the moment.

And this Vulture guy really is below the Avengers’ pay grade like he told Peter. They were never really in the business of taking down arms dealers, not even high tech ones.

Tony sighs. He is starting to feel bad about taking back the kid’s suit. Sure, Peter was being reckless in it, but hadn’t Tony done the same in his? And Peter had the excuse of being an actual child. Not to mention sooner or later, the kid is going to remember that his powers don’t come from the suit. He’s going to run into a crime he can’t ignore and he won’t have the one thing that keeps him safe.

Tony had been telling the spiderling he didn’t want to be like his old man before the ferry shitshow, and what had he done as soon as Peter slipped up? Screamed at him, taken away the suit, and basically told the kid he didn’t want to have to deal with him anymore. And before that he had barely interacted with Peter after the whole thing in Germany, and yeah, Tony had some good excuses for that, but it was all still the exact same shit Howard would have done.

As much as Tony doesn’t do feelings, maybe he should call the kid up and apologize soon. It’s already been a few weeks.

Tony has just collapsed onto his desk chair in his workshop and started massaging at the tension headache sitting at the front of his skull when it catches his eye. A strange flash of red on his work table that wasn’t there just a moment before. Tony already knows it’s not something of his considering how little he’s been using this lab up until now.

His lip is already twitching up fondly as he reaches for it, wondering what the kid lost this time. He grabs the fabric object and pulls it out from under the stack of blueprints it’s ended up under.

For a moment nothing makes sense.

He’s holding Spider-Man’s mask.

The first one, from the kid’s onesie suit with the googly-eyed goggles sewn in. It’s soaking wet and covered in concrete dust. There are also a few smears of darker red that take a moment to register as blood to the engineer. All he can do is stare at it in utter confusion for a few seconds.

Then it suddenly makes so much fucking sense and Tony is so damn stupid. Of course It’s Peter, of course it’s always been the kid. Of fucking course his soulmate is the superpowered genius orphan with a guilt complex as big as his own. Of course it's the kid who agreed to help fight when Tony needed him the most. It was right in front of his face and he’s an idiot for not realizing that he found his soulmate nearly six months ago.

A soulmate who he’s been foisting off on Happy and refused to grow close to out of paranoid fear. A soulmate who’s looked up to Tony his whole life despite how shitty of a person Tony is. A soulmate who has obviously gone out in his homemade onesie of a suit and has obviously been wounded recently, if the fresh blood on the mask is anything to go by.

“FRIDAY, call the Forehead of Security,” Tony orders, vaguely realizing that his hands have started to tremble.

As soon as the line connects, Tony is speaking before his friend can get a word in. “Happy, where’s the kid?”

“Tony- what?” Happy asks, sounding baffled, “Who? Parker?”

“Yes. What other kid do we both know? Where is he?” Tony questions.

“Why are you asking me? I don’t know. You have his number don’t you? Or just call his-” Happy cuts himself off, and for a moment Tony thinks the connection dropped until he hears Happy swearing, “Shit! Shit!”

“What?” the engineer demands.

There's a long moment of silence and Tony thinks he might actually hear Happy gulp. “The plane. It just went down.”

“Oh God, that’s what he’s doing,” Tony breathes out, heart clenching, “Peter’s there, Happy! He’s trying to stop it and he’s going to get himself killed!”

“What? How do you know? Besides I thought you took his suit?”

“I did! But I found his old Spider-Man mask covered in dirt and blood!” Tony practically shouts into the phone, the fear he feels coming out easier as anger.

Happy is silent for a moment, maybe stunned at the outburst. “Tony what are you talking about? You’re upstate-”

“You aren’t getting it,” Tony cuts him off, feeling panic starting to win over anger, “I just found it in the lab! The lab that Peter has never set foot in! On my work table that was clear about five minutes ago!”

“What..? But that means...” there’s a sharp intake of breath from the other end of the line, “Oh God. Shit- Okay. Coney Island that’s where-”

“I’m on my way,” Tony says, shoving Peter’s mask into his pocket and stepping into a suit, hoping with everything he has that the kid, his kid, is okay.

Then he’s blasting out of the lab’s launchpad, streaking through the sky towards the glowing beacon of New York City in the far distance as fast as the suit can take him. He tries to call Peter from his HUD but it goes straight to voicemail and Tony tries not to lose it completely.

---

When Tony finds Peter, bleeding, battered, and unconscious on top of the Cyclone coaster he greys out. FRIDAY is feeding him info on the kid’s condition and giving him instructions, but even as Tony’s body moves to follow her recommendations, it’s like he’s not even there. Or maybe he is but only in flashes, like his brain is skipping.

One moment Tony’s picking the kid up as if he’s made of porcelain and the next he’s shooting off into the air, streaking back towards the compound since he stupidly moved upstate and left Peter without support in the city. It feels like Tony blinks and he’s landing again and Helen and her team are taking Peter’s limp blood covered body from Tony’s arms. He thinks Pepper calls him, and then Happy.

He has no idea what he says to either of them.

And then, what must be hours later, it feels like Tony finally wakes up in the compound’s medby, sitting at Peter’s bedside. The kid’s old mask is still bulging out of his pocket. He pulls it out and stares at it for a bit before looking back at his kid, his soulmate, laid out in the narrow bed.

Peter in his hospital scrubs is smaller and paler than Tony has ever seen him against the crisp white sheets. Not that he’s seen much of the kid, a dark part of his thoughts remind him. The kid’s broken ribs and head wound are bandaged, and he’s got an air cast for a wrist fracture. Helen’s got him hooked up to a complicated IV drip of some sort and FRIDAY is keeping careful track of the spiderling’s vitals on a nearby monitor.

Tony doesn’t remember too much of what Helen said about Peter’s injuries, other than they were somewhat severe and he’d lost a good bit of blood, but they thankfully hadn’t had to operate. Although he remembers there had been a fair amount of stitches needing to be done on the kid’s torso. That and something about having to give him an insane amount of pain meds to even touch his metabolism.

Peter shivers in his sleep and Tony hesitates for a moment before pulling the blankets up higher and tucking the teen in. After a few minutes the shivering stops, and tentatively Tony takes one of Peter’s hands in his. The kid’s hand is cold and a bit clammy in his, but Tony doesn’t mind. His curls are adorably wild and the engineer has to resist the urge to brush them out of Peter’s face.

Tony doesn’t know how long he sits there holding his soulmate's hand, going over in his head again and again what he could possibly say to the kid, before he feels Peter grip his hand back weakly.

“Finally back with us, Pete?” Tony asks with a softness he didn’t know he possessed when the spider kid’s eyes start to slit open.

“Mis’r S’ark?” the teen slurs still half asleep.

Tony manages a weak grin. “The one and only.”

“Wha’ are you doin’ here?” Peter mumbles squinting his eyes open a bit more.

Tony squeezes the kid’s hand. “Didn’t want you to wake up alone and freak out.”

The physical contact and words seem to get through some of Peter’s drowsiness and confusion because he blinks rapidly then snatches his hand out of Tony’s own. The engineer tries not to feel stung by the action.

“Oh my god, your plane! Toomes! Is he okay, is anyone hurt?!” the teen asks frantically.

Tony is quick to stop the spiderling from trying to sit up. “The only one hurt was you, kid.”

Peter slumps back against the pillows. “That’s good.”

“It’s really not. Peter, you could have-” Tony cuts himself off and breathes out a long sigh, not wanting to lecture the kid while he’s still recovering.

The kid is giving him a wary look, like he’s waiting for Tony to lose it on him again. It makes him feel like even more of a piece of shit. So he does the only thing he can think of and holds the Spider-Man mask out to the kid.

“I found this,” Tony says abruptly.

“Oh. At the old warehouse?” Peter asks, taking it from him without meeting his eyes.

“No. In my lab.”

The spider kid’s head pops up at that, confused. “But, Mr. Stark, I’ve never been to your lab. And I had it for part of the fight with Toomes.”

Tony nods and clears his throat. Well, now or never. “I know. But you did lose it.”

Peter’s brow furrows in confusion. Tony sees it dawn on the kid after a few seconds, his eyes going wide and shooting up to stare at the engineer.

“You… So you’re…” the kid stutters.

“Yeah, kid. I’m your soulmate and I’ve got several boxes full of old toys, clothes, and backpacks that I’ve been holding onto for a long time,” Tony tells the boy feeling a little choked up.

Peter doesn’t say anything, he’s still staring at Tony looking completely gobsmacked. When the silence continues to stretch on, the engineer feels his insides squirm with insecurity. After everything that’s happened, maybe Peter doesn’t want to deal with such a shitty soulmate. Tony’s not sure he’d be too forgiving after the last few months of no contact and a near deathmatch with a supervillain that probably could have been avoided.

When Peter still doesn’t manage to get a word out, Tony lets himself deflate. “I don’t blame you if you don’t want anything to do with me anymore. I know I’m not anyone’s first choice of well…anything generally, and you deserve a better soulmate and mentor... But give me another chance, Pete. It won’t be perfect at first but let me try and fix-”

“That’s-!” Peter bursts in suddenly, cutting him off, “That’s not true Mr. Stark. The whole ‘not anyone’s first choice’ crap, I mean. You were...one of my first heroes and- and you still are. Both in a science and superhero sense. And yeah you, uh, do really suck at the whole…emotional availability thing, but you just need practice. Probably.”

Tony finds his mouth twitching up, especially when Peter’s ears go red at the last bit. The kid is endearingly honest and awkward.

“What I mean is, that I’ve been trying to follow your footsteps for a long time now. And I forgive you for the whole…ghosting me thing, and I don’t blame you for taking the suit after the ferry. And I want to be your soulmate if you’ll still have me after I crashed your plan, and-” Peter cuts off his own rambling and looks down, still flushed with embarrassment, “Sorry, I’m totally still freaking out that it’s you.”

“You and me both kid, I don’t know what I did to deserve compassionate, responsible, superhero Peter Parker as my soulmate,” Tony tells the kid, and immediately shoots for a joke to cut away from the vulnerability of that statement, “Even if you’re a little shit that gives me grey hair, especially with all the all the times I’ve nearly broken my neck tripping on your stuff over the years.”

“Well, I don’t know what I did to deserve Tony freaking Stark as my soulmate, even if he only loses boring crap like ties and metal scraps. Seriously, Ned’s soulmate lost Nintendo DS games and all I had to show from mine were socks or nuts and bolts. You made me so lame, Mr. Stark,” Peter whines dramatically, a spark of mischief in his eyes.

“Oh yeah, and it doesn’t ruin my very polished image as Tony Stark, billionaire genius, to trip over your Legos while out in public?” the engineer teases back, ruffling the kid’s hair.

Peter gives him a big innocent grin in response like the smartass he is and Tony just rolls his eyes.

The engineer leans forward and opens his arms in invitation. “C’mere spiderling.”

Peter lights up and gingerly leans into the embrace, careful of his injured ribs. He lets out a soft sigh of contentment and Tony won’t admit to anyone that the sound makes him melt a bit.

“Is this actually a hug this time, since there’s no door to get?” Peter questions with false innocence after a few moments.

Tony snorts. “Yes, you little shit it’s a hug.”

Peter’s laughter in his ear is the best thing he’s heard in months.

“So, when do we get to return each other’s stuff? Can we do it now?” the spider kid asks when they break apart, excitement shining in his eyes even as they began to droop with fatigue.

“Not till you’re healed, first of all. And we’ll have to take a day to do it. It’s a lot to go through. You’ve lost a lot of stuff over the years, kiddo,” Tony tells him, helping to settle the drowsy kid back under the bedsheets.

“We’ve got time,” Peter yawns, “Besides, if I didn’t lose anything, then how would you ever know to come find me and give it back Mr. Stark?”

Smiling fondly Tony finally gives in and starts combing his fingers through Peter’s hair. “I’ll always come find you, Pete.”

The spiderling gives a happy sleepy murmur in response before he slips back into sleep.

***

A few weeks later, after May had found out about everything, superhero alter egos and soulmates included, Peter is finally ungrounded enough to be allowed to go to the compound one weekend. May and Tony had talked a lot in the last few weeks and she had come to terms with everything. Well, after a lot of yelling at least. But now she was glad that Peter had another adult to care for him and watch over him.

Peter wasn’t just teasing about his not losing much over the years. He’s only brought over about three cardboard boxes worth of forgotten items. It’s a stark contrast to the eight or so big plastic bins that Mr. Stark keeps Peter’s things in. To be fair, he knows Mr. Stark has an eidetic memory which makes it pretty easy to keep track of most of his things, while Peter seems to be a bit more of a disorganized genius.

Mr. Stark starts in on his collection first, cooing over Peter’s baby toys and books while the teen sputters in embarrassment. In retaliation Peter just shoves the entire box of screws, nuts, bolts, and other assorted metal bits of various sizes at his mentor with a huff. Even Mr. Stark admits that it would be pretty boring stuff for a kid to find. Although Peter does confess to using a few spare parts in his refurbishing of tech he’d found in the trash.

“Oh wow, I always wondered what happened to my red Power Ranger!” Peter exclaims when he spots the bright flash of red and white in the box of toys Mr. Stark has just opened, “I was so sure one of the other kids at school had stolen it.”

“I found that guy when I was in Afghanistan,” his mentor divulges quietly.

Peter freezes half way through grabbing the toy. “What?”

“When… When I was kidnapped, I tripped over it in the cave the Ten Rings kept us in. I carried him around with me the whole time after that. That little dude went through the ringer with me then,” Mr. Stark explains ruefully, his eyes locked on the battered action figure.

The expression on Mr. Stark’s face is hard to decipher. It’s sad and haunted, but there’s also some deep fondness as he looks at the plastic Power Ranger. Obviously there are a lot of heavy memories tied to the toy, good and bad.

“You should keep it, Mr. Stark,” Peter says firmly, gently pushing the action figure back into his mentor’s hand.

Surprised, Mr. Stark seems to shake himself out of whatever stupor he’d fallen into. “You sure, kid?”

“Yeah.”

Mr. Stark doesn’t have to say anything, but Peter can tell. His Red Ranger means a lot to his mentor. It’s not something Peter wants to take away from him. Mr. Stark gives him a warm smile, his genuine one that he saves only for a select few people, and sits the toy on his work desk in a place of honor.

“Are you good to keep going?” Peter asks uncertainly.

He’s still not sure where the lines are with his mentor yet. They’ve slowly been getting closer over video calls and texts while Peter was grounded, but they’re both still waffling in that awkward phase when you first start actually getting to know someone.

Mr. Stark gives him a soft smile. “Yeah, kid. I’m fine.”

A bit later, after they’ve gone through and reminisced over all Peter’s baby stuff, Tony pulls a big binder out of one of the bins.

“I loved finding your drawings,” his mentor admits, “Rhodey, well you’d know him as War Machine, hung some up on the fridge as a joke when I showed them to him. And then, before I knew it, I was putting them up there myself.”

“You did what?!” Peter gapped, “Mr. Stark!”

“Oh come on kid, your artwork was adorable. Especially after the Battle of New York and I started finding a lot more Iron Man drawings. I even had a few of them framed,” his mentor grins.

Peter gives him a flat look. “You did not.”

In response, Mr. Stark just raises an eyebrow and pulls a framed colored pencil drawing of Iron Man out of one of the bins. It’s not a bad likeness, done on lined notebook paper depicting Iron Man blasting a giant monster out of the sky. Peter vaguely remembers having drawn the thing when he was bored during math class a few years ago. The teacher confiscated it when she saw he wasn’t paying attention and Peter never did get it back.

The teen hides his red face behind his hands. “Oh my God.”

Iron Man literally put Peter’s childhood artwork up on his fridge like a proud dad. He doesn’t know if he wants to preen or hide from knowing that.

Mr. Stark just laughs and claps him on the shoulder. “Don’t be like that, kid. Come on, I can’t not be proud of my kid’s artwork.”

Peter feels himself turning an even deeper shade of red. His kid.

Stuttering out something incomprehensible, Peter reaches for one of his boxes of Mr. Stark’s lost items. Still chuckling, his mentor leans over his shoulder to see what he’s digging through. He makes a surprised noise and reaches down to extract something from the collection.

It’s a very familiar small red screwdriver.

“Well, what do you know? That’s my favorite screwdriver from when I was in MIT. I put DUM-E’s circuit board together with that.”

“Seriously? That’s so cool, Mr. Stark. My parents told me they found it in my crib when I was just a few months old. I used to take it everywhere with me when I was little,” Peter recounts with a small smile.

Mr. Stark’s eyes crinkle, a subtle upward quirk to his lips. “I can see you took good care of it.”

“I’m glad I could finally bring it back to you,” Peter tells him earnestly.

He’ll miss the screwdriver a lot more than he wants to admit, but it’s something so important to Mr. Stark. This is the tool his mentor but his first AI together with. He deserves to finally have it back.

“Keep it, Pete,” Mr. Stark places the tool in Peter’s hand and fold’s the teens fingers over it, “You’ve obviously given it a good home.”

Peter looks up at him. “Are you sure?”

“It couldn’t be in safer hands, kid,” his mentor affirms.

Peter beams in response. He’d been so impatient to meet his soulmate when he was a kid, but now he knows it was well worth the wait. And there’s no one he’d want more as his mentor, father figure, or soulmate than Tony Stark.

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange

#irondad and spiderson #irondad #spiderson #the friendly neighborhood exchange #fanfiction #MCU fanfiction #my writing

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annewritesfic · 4 years ago

Text

Happy Endings Don’t Exist

hey so i don’t really feel like making this like a full, normal, multichapter au but i really am attached to the tlc au (which @anythingbutwallflower helped a ton with because she’s amazing) and i kinda wanna post some of it so um yeah, here’s some

based off chapter 44 of scarlet by marissa meyer

(brief explanation of context at the end)

word count: 2660

triggers: mentions of guns, blood, scalpels, sleeping drugs, death, sacrifice, and murder

As the ship finally made it to neutral orbit, Chess sat back in the chair, rubbing her eyes and releasing a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. She gave herself just one moment to sit there, eyes closed, all the aches and pains of the last few days catching up to her, before turning around to face the others.

Kate Dalton was sitting cross-legged against a crate, eyes closed and both hands splayed against the floor, like she was bracing themself. Cairo was still unconscious, spread-eagle on her back, a smear of blood leading to the edge of the ramp. The strange woman was off to the side, also unconscious, laying on her side with her back to Chess, both braids messy and coming undone.

“I’m really glad you’re a pilot,” Kate said, eyes still closed. “Thank you.”

“Your ship does pretty good on its own,” Chess said awkwardly, hands in her lap.

“Thanks!” said the voice from before over the speaker. “I’m Reese. It’s great to meet you!”

Chess glanced up curiously.

Kate stood up and stretched, wincing a little. “Reese is an old friend of mine. She’s… she was an android, but now she’s the ship’s auto-control system until I can find a replacement body for her and a new system for the ship.”

Chess couldn’t think of an answer, so she said nothing. She stood up and limped over to Cairo, sinking to her knees at her side and settling a hand on Cairo’s head.

“She should be all right,” Kate said from behind her. “I think. I’ve never, um, stuck around long enough to see the after-effects of those darts, but…”

Chess bit her lip. “You said you had bandages?”

“Right, in the med bay. I’ll, um… I’ll go get them.” Kate left the room, leaving Chess alone with Cairo and the stranger, both of them unconscious.

Not for long, apparently, though, because the stranger began to stir, then sat up groggily, rubbing her eyes. “Ugh… whererewe?” she mumbled.

Chess almost answered, but then Kate came back, clutching some salve and gauze. “Oh, you’re awake,” Kate said. “I was hoping you’d stay knocked out for awhile. It was kinda nice without you running your mouth.” Despite their words, Chess could see from her expression that Kate was glad the stranger was okay. Kate tossed one tube of salve to the stranger, then handed Chess the other supplies and sat on one of the crates. Chess realized there was a scalpel in the mix and gave Kate a questioning look. “We need to cut out your ID chips, before someone realizes you’re with us and tracks them.”

Right. Of course. Chess pushed away the memory of finding her grandmother’s ID chip, neatly wrapped in cheesecloth, on the dresser, and picked up the scalpel, glad she was right-handed. Neither Kate, nor the stranger, offered to help.

The stranger pulled herself to her feet, but quickly stumbled onto another crate, eyeing Chess and Cairo suspiciously. “Got the wolf on board? You sure she won’t kill us in our sleep?”

Chess glared at her, beginning to clean and bandage the wounds on one of Cairo’s arms. “She’s not an animal.”

“You sure? ‘Cause I definitely heard her pack buddies howling.”

“I hate to agree with Farrah,” Kate put in, “I mean, really hate to agree with Farrah, but she’s right. How do we know she’s on our side?”

Chess started to answer, then hesitated. “You’ll see when she wakes up.”

“Now I feel much better,” Farrah muttered, dabbing a little bit of ointment on the spot where Kate’s tranquilizer dart had hit her.

Chess grit her teeth and kept bandaging Cairo’s wounds.

“Screen, on,” Kate said. The volume was off, but a news anchor appeared, eyes full of fear. The screen behind the anchor showed a man with a crazy grin, face streaked with blood, before the image was replaced with static. Chess tore her gaze away and bent to cut out Cairo’s ID chip, noticing a scar there - almost like it hadn’t been long since she’d received the chip in the first place.

“These attacks are happening in a ton of major cities,” Kate said softly.

Cairo groaned, drawing everyone’s attention to her. Out of the corner of her eye, Chess saw Farrah pick up her abandoned gun and cock it at Cairo’s head, but ignored her.

Chess set both of their ID chips aside and cupped Cairo’s face with one hand. “Are you okay?”

Cairo’s eyes took a moment to focus on her. “Chess?” The name was barely past her lips when she jerked away from Chess’s hand, turning away and vomiting.

“Aces, I’m glad that didn’t happen to me,” Farrah commented.

“Sorry,” Kate said. “I think that might be a side effect of the drugs in those darts.”

Cairo collapsed on her back, one hand over her eyes, then looked at Chess. The wildness from Paris was gone, and there was something familiar, even comforting in the way she looked at Chess. “You’re alive.”

Chess fidgeted with the zipper on her jacket, suddenly nervous. “Yeah, thanks to you.”

Farrah scoffed. “Thanks to her? I’m sorry, whose ship are you on again?”

“Shut up, Farrah,” Kate said shortly.

Cairo turned to look at Kate. “Where are we?”

“A cargo ship orbiting Earth.” Kate stared at a point on the wall behind Cairo, like they couldn’t meet her eyes. “I shot you with a tranquilizer dart. Sorry about that, but I kinda thought you were gonna kill her, so…”

“I sort of thought I was, too,” Cairo said, her voice hoarse. She studied Kate, her gaze catching on her metal hand. “I think my queen is looking for you.”

“And that's supposed to make me feel better?” Farrah demanded.

Chess put a hand on Cairo’s shoulder. “She’s better now. Aren’t you?”

Cairo shrugged Chess’s hand off. “You shouldn’t have brought me here. I’m only going to put you all in danger.”

Farrah released the safety on the gun.

“Don’t be stupid,” Chess said. “It’s not your fault.”

“Chess, if anything happened to you because of me-”

“Do you intend to harm anyone on this ship?” Kate interrupted.

Cairo blinked at her. “No, of course not.”

Nobody moved for three seconds, but then Kate relaxed. “She’s telling the truth.”

“Are you sure?” Farrah asked skeptically.

“Guys!” Reese interrupted. “Eva is going to make an announcement!”

The volume on the net screen turned on, and all four of them turned to face it as the image cut to the empress of the Eastern Commonwealth, onstage in the EC’s press room. She stood at the podium, her dress shirt a little rumpled, eyes red and tired. Kate anxiously started chewing the thumbnail on their human hand, eyes fixed to the screen.

“Kate has a bit of a crush on the empress,” Farrah stage-whispered.

“Don’t we all?” Reese sighed over the speakers. Man, what a personality… Chess didn’t know androids were ever like that.

"I've called this press conference on such short notice to address the attack on Earth that began three and a half hours ago," she said, her voice clear. "I am sure many of Earth's people are begging to know the answer to why this is happening." Eva paused and took a deep breath. "It was my fault."

Kate began to shake a bit. Cairo reached for Chess’s hand and squeezed.

"Many of you are aware that Queen Levana has been threatening war on our planet for nearly her entire rule. She chose to initiate these attacks now, because I have been unable to meet her clear expectations to adhere to a treaty between Luna and Earth. It is my responsibility to end these attacks and prevent a full-scale war as long as it is in my power to do so." Eva didn't look at any of the reporters, instead focusing her gaze on the back wall like she was ashamed of herself. "I have accepted a marriage alliance with Queen Levana of Luna."

"No!" Kate said, launching to their feet. "No!"

"In return," Eva continued, unaware of the effect her words had on the crewmembers of the Rampion, "Luna will withhold further attacks. The wedding will take place on the next full moon, the twenty fifth of September, and will be followed immediately by Queen Levana's coronation as empress of the Eastern Commonwealth. The removal of all Lunar soldiers from Earth will begin the following day, the twenty sixth of September."

"You fucking idiot!" Kate screamed at the screen. She grabbed the bandages sitting on a crate and hurled them at the screen. “No! You can’t fucking do that!”

"My cabinet will provide further updates in the coming days. I will be taking no questions tonight. Thank you." Despite Eva's words, the room filled with the reporters' incessant questions, but Eva ignored them and walked off the stage, holding her head high but looking like a defeated general.

"I fucking told her not to do it," Kate spat. “Levana murdered thousands of innocent people and now she's going to be the fucking empress?" They stepped on the two ID chips on the floor, grinding them to pieces among the blood. "And that won't satisfy her for long. She's going to use the Commonwealth as just a stepping stone to get to the rest of the world, and I told her that would happen, and she's still going through with the fucking marriage alliance! She's going to take control of the goddamn solar system and it'll be Eva's fault!” They sat back down on the crate, head in her hands, shaking.

Chess dropped Cairo’s hand and crossed her arms. “I think this seems more like your fault.”

Kate looked up at Chess with an unreadable expression. Farrah settled her chin on her hand, like she was watching an entertaining TV show, but her other hand kept the gun pointed at Cairo’s head.

“You know why she ordered those attacks,” Chess continued, standing up. “Because of you.”

Kate’s lips parted a little in surprise. “Your grandmother told you, didn’t she?”

“Yeah, she did, and it’s sickening that you let this happen in the first place!” Chess said, raising her voice just a little bit.

Kate jumped off the crate, both hands curled into fists, but didn’t make a move towards Chess. “What would you like me to do, then? Hand myself over? Sacrifice myself and cross my fingers it’ll satisfy her? If that’s what I had done, we would’ve ended up here anyway.”

“I don’t mean when you were arrested at the ball,” Chess spat. “I mean before that. Why haven’t you done anything to stop her? People are depending on you! And you did nothing for years!” She threw her hands in the air. “My grandmother sacrificed herself for you, and you’re running away and hiding like a goddamn coward.”

Farrah raised her hand. “Uh, I’m confused. What are we talking about?”

Chess turned on her. “Stop pointing that gun at her!”

Farrah tossed the gun aside and crossed her arms.

Chess looked back at Kate. “She doesn’t know, does she? You put her life in danger - all of our lives in danger - and she doesn’t know why!”

“It’s not that simple-”

“Isn’t it?”

“I haven’t even known for a week!” Kate shouted. “I found out when I was sitting in prison, waiting to be shipped off to Luna to be executed. So between breaking out of prison, running from the entire Commonwealth military, and saving your goddamn life, there hasn’t been a whole lot of time to overthrow an entire regime! So I’m sorry to disappoint you!” They leaned against the crate, head in her hands, breathing hard.

Chess’s mind whirling, trying to fit this new information into something that made sense. “How did you not know?”

“Because your grandmother shipped me off to New Beijing five years ago without bothering to tell me.”

“But-but that’s why you were at the ball, wasn’t it?”

Kate laughed bitterly, a sharp, angry sound, and looked up at Chess. “You really think I would’ve been stupid enough to face Levana if I’d known?” She paused. “Well, maybe… maybe for Eva. I don’t know. I didn’t know.”

“Oh.” Chess sank back to the floor, feeling oddly guilty.

Farrah waved her hand a little. “Um, I’m still confused.”

Kate sighed and looked at the ceiling. “I’m Princess Selene.”

Silence for a beat.

Farrah laughed, but nobody else did, and slowly the realization dawned on her face. “Really?”

“Really.”

Farrah’s eyes widened. “You’re Princess Selene. The crazy cyborg is Princess Selene.”

Kate glared at her. “Are you done?”

“I don’t compute,” Reese said slowly. Chess hid her surprise - she kept forgetting Reese was there.

“Yeah, me neither,” Farrah agreed. “Since when?”

“I should’ve told you,” Kate said. “But… but it was all so new, and I thought… maybe, if I could find Michelle Benoit, get some questions answered… I’m sorry.”

It was quiet for a moment.

“Is your gift intact?” Cairo asked.

“Yeah, but I’m still… still learning how to use it.” Kate sank to the floor and sat against the crate, and suddenly it hit Chess just how young they were - at sixteen, Kate was the youngest in this room by several years. Just a kid, really. And yet there was so much weight on her shoulders…

“She controlled one of the special ops,” Chess offered. “I saw them do it.”

Kate scoffed. “Yeah, barely.”

Cairo’s eyes widened. “You controlled one of the soldiers? While Jael was there?”

Kate fidgeted nervously. “Well, yeah, but it was awful. I barely got to him, and then I nearly passed out-”

“That’s why Levana wants you,” Cairo said, her expression amazed. “You are stronger than she is. Or at least you could be, with a little practice.”

Kate shook their head, hugging her knees. “That thaumaturge had seven soldiers under his control, and I could barely handle one. I’m not even close to being as strong as Levana.”

“You don’t understand,” Cairo said. “Each pack is controlled by a thaumaturge, who controls when the animal instincts the genetic manipulation gave us take control. We’ve all had the physical modifications, but really, it all comes back to a thaumaturge. A normal Lunar citizen couldn’t hope of controlling us, and even the thaumaturges, who could control hundreds of people at once, can only handle up to fifteen. That’s why the special op packs are kept so small.” She grinned. “And you took one away from a thaumaturge on your first try? With no training or anything? Her Majesty might have cause to be afraid of you, Princess.”

Kate glared at Cairo. “Don’t call me that.”

Cairo raised an eyebrow. “Assuming, of course, that you do want to fight her. Which I think you do, judging by your response to your empress’s announcement.”

Kate automatically glanced at the screen, which was now replaying Eva’s announcement, although Reese had muted the volume. “I don’t know. I don’t know how to be a leader, or-”

“But you can stop her,” Chess interrupted. “So many people think you can. My grandmother sacrificed herself for this, and I won’t let that be wasted.”

“And if you really are who you claim to be, that makes you my true queen,” Cairo added. “So you have my loyalty.”

“I don’t want your fucking loyalty.”

“Then what do you want?” Chess asked, trying and probably failing to be gentle.

Kate squeezed their eyes shut, then opened them and glared at the both of them. “I want some time alone to think, without you guys chattering in my ear!” They kicked off her boots and stormed out of the room, her metal foot clanging against the floor with every other step.

Farrah sighed. “I know, I know. They seem a bit…” She crossed her eyes and twirled her fingers around her ears. “But I promise, once you get to know her, it’s all part of their charm.”

ok so a bit of context:

after the fourth world war, there are six nations at peace on earth, plus a kingdom on the moon, called luna. luna has had rocky relations with earth for hundreds of years. the heir to the throne was supposed to be princess selene, but in order to keep her hold on the throne, queen levana tried to kill the princess at just three years old. selene survived and was brought to earth to be kept safe, and is kate dalton, a cyborg mechanic from new beijing. the eastern commonwealth is ruled by the young empress eva, who very recently took the throne after the death of her mother. farrah thorne is an escaped convict who helped kate break out of prison after the ball, when kate tried to stop eva from entering the marriage alliance with levana but failed and was arrested. selene was sheltered for eight years by chess’s grandmother, michelle benoit. and cairo is one of levana’s special ops, and her genetics were split with those of a wolf, giving her special abilities. all lunars have what they call their “gift,” their ability to manipulate biolectricity and control people/make them see something that’s not there/make their appearances different, but the gift only works face to face. and... yeah, feel free to shoot me an ask on my main, @i-don-t-even-care, if you have any other questions!!!!!!!

#we are the tigers #kate dalton #farrah watt #chess watt #cairo adekoya #reese watt #chai #kateva #blood tw #death tw #injury tw #murder tw #gun tw #ask to tag #the lunar chronicles

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ashistrashhh · 4 years ago

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here are some fic recs!! including sakuatsu, bokuaka, kuroken and matsuhana bc i couldnt help myself

if you want, ask me about a certain ship and ill give you some recs!

-sakuatsu-

Marble and Sandstone by red_camellia

rating: G words: 12,937 chapters: 2/2

author summary: Miya Atsumu only cares about volleyball and nothing else. That is, until he develops a strange obsession with the marble statue of a young man that seems vaguely familiar in his university's arts department. One day that statue comes alive as the very real Sakusa Kiyoomi, and they are left with the mystery of why Sakusa Kiyoomi was turned into a statue and only came back to life when Atsumu touched him. Their new-found connection and the strange mystery turns Atsumu's life upside down, not least because of his growing feelings for Sakusa.

my notes: this was a rlly cute fic!!! 11/10 would read again!!

let it go (paint my body gold) by lunarism

rating: T words: 3,272 chapters: 1/1

author summary: It becomes a routine for them. Sometimes they go grocery shopping and make dinner together, other times they end up talking until Sakusa feels like his own shower and bed is calling him. Every single time Sakusa gets home, shrugs his coat off, balls it up, and proceeds to scream profusely into the fabric for a few minutes.

my notes: pining!!! sakusa!!! also casual painter!atsumu!!! and they paint together!!!

craft a miracle with these hands, lips, (silence) by chrysanthe (sonderesque)

rating: T words: 4,252 chapters: 1/1

author summary: ‘Someone is here to ruin your night,’ his door tells him. ‘You should let them in.’ “I’M HOMELESS OMI-OMI. HOMELESS,” yells the one here to ruin his night. “LET ME IN.”

(What does Kiyoomi sell his sanctuary for?)

my notes: hnnn rlly fuckin cute,, and domestic,,,,

Clipped To You by littleboat

rating: T words: 8,174 chapters: 1/1

author summary: It starts with Hinata Natsu, of all people.

Well, if Atsumu’s being honest with himself, it started way before that, but he’s not, so that’s besides the point. And thankfully, he’s just petty enough to blame all of his problems on a thirteen year old girl.

or Sakusa starts wearing hair clips and Atsumu is more than a little obsessed

my notes: minor kagehina, bokuaka // god these fics rlly make me simp for fictional characters even more than i should. but!! sakusa!!! in hairclips!!! and a pining atsumu!!!

learn how to lay me down in something other than danger, other than fury by rosevtea

words: 34,211 chapters: 1/1

author summary: All of the ways fellow college TA Miya Atsumu reinvents Kiyoomi's definition of normal.

my notes: god i loved this. it’s a fake dating au and like,, even though they’re “dating” sakusa keeps letting his guard down little by little around atsumu and it surprises everyone. komori and akaashi just know that they’re were genuinely pining for eachother

among probabilities and a thousand fates by aalphard

rating: T words: 15,675 chapters: 1/1

author summary: prompt fill for “in a world where the red string of fate exists, person a’s finger always twitches when person b, who can see the string, tugs on their string” | or sakusa thought he had a tic and atsumu liked to see his confused expression when it started to happen exclusively when he was around.

my notes: i! loved! it!! so basically atsumu and osamu have the rare gift of seeing the red string of fate, so they know its real but sakusa, like most other people dont believe it exists. so atsumu gives sakusa a (kinda) hard time. rlly cute!! i love soulmate aus!

-bokuaka-

love in the time of wifi by dalyeau

rating: G words: 4,177 chapters: 1/1

author summary: Akaashi is coming to terms with the fact that he might be romantically interested in his volleyball captain. Hence, doing what any sixteen year old with a problem should do. He asks about it online.

my notes: really cute fic about akaashi asking what he should do about his crush on a site similar to reddit. its kinda a “i didnt know it was you” kind of fic and it made me happy

steam by orphan_account

rating: E words: 8,474 chapters: 1/1

author summary:

bokuto: why is he so hot bokuto: why am i so gay kuroo: LMAO you mean your vice captain right bokuto: yeah

The coach blew the whistle for practice to begin, and Bokuto drummed his fingers against the bleachers, awaiting Kuroo’s reply. He was about to walk away, when his phone buzzed in his hand.kuroo: i got this bro bokuto: what bokuto: wtf does that mean

Bokuto started to panic.

my notes: explicit!!! but really wholesome. kuroo is honestly the best wingman. i also think this is my favourite bokuaka smutfic??

just to miss the sun by rosevtea

rating: T words: 15,126 chapters:1/1

author summary: Everything begins to implode when MSBY Jackals outside hitter Bokuto Koutarou crashes Akaashi's livestream.

my notes: akaashi is a booktuber and bokuto crashes one of his streams. fans begin to speculate. rlly fluffy and can u tell i like bokuaka

brain fish by iceblinks

rating: T words: 12,026 chapters: 6/6

author summary: Akaashi wakes up to a string of texts from an unknown number.

my notes: i love text fics and i love wrong number aus so u can tell how much i loved this. really fluffy and i come back to it time to time

-kuroken-

us three by honey_s

rating: T words: 5,137 chapters: 1/1

author summary: Kuroo’s gaze flits over to the utensil. His eyes bulge out of his skull. “Wh—is that a meat hammer? Put it back!” Akaashi’s head recoils back in confusion. “I don’t understand the problem here.” “Why on Earth have you got a fucking meat hammer? We aren’t going to kill somebody!” “Well,” Akaashi begins, clearly taken aback, “I apologise for assuming. I had heard Kenma-san had been hurt in school and after getting a message from both of you to meet late at night, I merely filled in the blanks and assumed we were going to beat someone up, for lack of a better term.” “Not literally! I meant metaphorically, or figuratively, or something!” “Idiomically?” “That isn’t a word, Bokuto-san.” “Jesus Christ,” Kuroo groans, dropping his head into his hands. “We're going to jail."

my notes: bokuaka and kuroo are ready to beat someone up for kenma!! and we stan!!

Cherry Pits and Cat Tattoos by strawberryriver

rating: G words: 6,141 chapters: 1/1

author summary:

Kuroo has been in communication with his soulmate ever since they were kids. They've known each other for so long that he never really worried about when or how he would meet them. At least, not until he meets the roommate of Bokuto's soulmate.Soulmate AU in which things written on your skin show up on your soulmate. Companion piece/same AU as Serendipty

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

Kuroo Tetsurou liked to write on his arms. Despite his mother's half-serious warnings about “ink poisoning” or staining his skin, he insisted on marking his arms and legs wherever he could. Not like his best-friend-since-always Bokuto Koutaro, who had to write on his arms or he’d forget to breathe, but artfully. He’d draw designs, animals, the occasional chemical compound. The whole idea behind soulmates fascinated him: how one person could mark their arm and someone potentially thousands of miles away, would have that same mark appear. The amount of articles, studies, and books he’d read about the topic, even at a young age, could put an undergrad researcher to shame.

my notes: again with the soulmate au bc i cannot help myself. but really cute!!! probably gonna read this again later!

Boom, Toasted by protostar (hearthope)

rated: T words: 6,782 chapters: 1/1

author summary:

FROM: yuuji any bets on who hes texting??

FROM: eita He's smiling at his phone. Kuroo, probably

FROM: kentarou Kuroo

TO: fake family Have any of you ever once considered not prying

FROM: eita You deserve it

FROM: yuuji how can we not when ur in love!!

Kenma gets a text from an unknown number. He'd be lying if he said the guy behind it wasn't kind of endearing.

my notes: again, i love wrong number texts. it focuses more on kenma’s friendship, but kenma’s pov with texting kuroo is more than him realizing feelings and stuff. really cute, ive read it multiple times.

Japan's most subscribed by NeverNothing

rating: T words: 3,631 chapters: 1/1

author summary: Kuroo Tetsurou @blacktetsurou changed his bio : volleyball player, co-owner of Bouncing Ball Corp. and so much more ;)

my notes: i! love! social media! fics!!! really cute and basically people wondering who the mysterious kuroo is to applepi.

MATSUHANA!!! the underrated gem

texting (with a capital S) by parenthetic

rating: M words: 2,119 chapters: 1/1

author summary: Hanamaki breaks his No Texting In Class rule, and it's all downhill from there.

my notes: honestly more funny than it suggests, but its matsuhana, they’re meme lords.

rated m for by orphan_account

rated: T words: 10,692 chapters: 1/1

author summary: He should have known that there was a Specific Reason™ why it was so absolutely vital that he and Matsukawa specifically meet for a reading of the script. He should have known that there had to be some evil catch beyond sitting in a tiny, cramped studio with his newly sworn enemy.

Hanamaki stares at the title of the script he’d so gracefully neglected the night before.

FORBIDDEN PARADISE

“Excuse me,” Hanamaki starts, raising a pen in the air while staring blankly at the packet in his free hand. “Just to clarify, you want me to record a boy's love CD with Matsukawa?”

my notes: a very good voice actor au. there is some misunderstanding on hanamaki’s part bc he didnt finish listening to matsukawa, and this is really cute and i love matsuhana.

In A Quiet Night, All Sounds Carry by levyovochka

rating: E words: 4,794 chapters: 1/1

authors summary: “Ah, ah, Too—!”

Hanamaki hates his university dorm.

“—ru, let me cum, please!”

Hold up. That’s a fucking understatement. Let him rephrase it: Hanamaki loathes his university dorm with passion. Detest the damned abomination, abhors it—

“—ru! Coming, coming—”

It has only been a month and Hanamaki already wants to die.

my notes: as u can guess minor iwaoi // rlly well written and bottom hanamaki rights and maybe my favourite matsuhana smutfic??? and hooh boy i simp for matsukawa

call me maybe by totooru

rating: T words: 33,689 chapters: 14/14

author summary: Hanamaki texts the wrong number when trying to extort tips out of Oikawa in order to defeat Iwaizumi in arm wrestling, and then continues to text the witty stranger who had answered.

my notes: minor iwaoi, daisuga, bokuaka // god i think this is my favourite matsuhana fic overall, maybe in general, but my god is it great. this is probably a common rec, but its understandable as to why it is. basically au where makki texts matsun (who goes to karasuno) instead of oikawa for tips to beat iwaizumi at an arm wrestling match. but they keep messaging. and holy shit i love their conversations. please read this, it is 256/10

there we go!! i might go a part two with more ships (kagehina, tsukkiyama and iwaoi) but this took up way to much time lol. i have an essay due in a couple hours. but hope u like these fics as much as i do!!

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ootori-sibs · 4 years ago

Text

Kyoya's second shot

Episode 1: The shadow plan

Hello everyone! This is a new fic that I think you'll enjoy if you enjoy the summer camp fic! It picks up immediately after the anime, with of course a break for the host's to spend their summer holiday. It's not connected to the summer camp fic but has similar themes. Enjoy!

"So? Do we have a deal?"

Kyoya hummed in thought, slowly nodding at the woman on the other side of the screen. He'd spent a long time deliberating over this, months even, practically the entire summer holiday. It had been seeing his friends all happy and put together that pushed him to make this decision; if they can be so wonderful and happy then why couldn't he?

The woman nodded, a smirk playing on her lips. "And I'll get my company?"

"Of course, you'll be the primary advisor for him. Only after he becomes my husband, that is our deal." He clicks his pen and writes in his little notepad. "So that will be all hm?"

23:38 - Eclair has agreed to our deal, I will write up a contract soon to make sure there's no attempt at a breach of contract.

The woman- Eclair nodded, a vindictive smile on her face, an expression that sent shivers down Kyoya's spine. "Of course, Ootori. That's what we agreed on, not that I agree with your-" She looks him up and down, silently scoffing. "-lifestyle. But I do adore this plan of ours. Do tell me how you plan on seducing a taken man? Or did you forget about that little detail?"

Kyoya let a little growl at that, clenching his fists instinctively. "That's not for you to worry about, you're not exactly an example of purity in that regard, Eclair." He sighed, putting his note book down. "I will write up a contract for you, you'll see it soon. Au revoir, Eclair."

He ended the video call and sighed, flopping down onto his bed. God he felt awful going behind his friends like this- especially talking to Eclair of all people. But it had to be done, he simply couldn't take this kind of pain anymore. Something had to be done or he was literally going to lose his goddamn mind.

The first day back at school was going to be hell, Kyoya knew this from the moment the holidays had started, a month into the break he'd stopped agreeing to go on club outings with the group. He'd used so many excuses they'd even come to his house once to make sure he was alright. He felt so guilty for this, but he just couldn't do it- he wasn't strong enough. He'd definitely spiralled since the end of his second year- he barely had the strength to argue with his brother these days, Akito had begun to call him weekly to make sure he was alright, Akito never showed that much care.

The moment Kyoya woke up on Monday, he knew he had to get right to work. He sat at his vanity, staring into the cold, dead eyes that had viewed the world so coldly before the hosts came into his life. He sighs, it'll all go back to playing happy families once he does what he needs to. He's only hurting himself feeling guilt like this. He takes his little palette of makeup, making sure to hide any signs of tiredness or stress with concealer and foundation. He capitalised on the sharpness of his eyes with some eyeliner, only a hint of the lightest purple eyeshadow he could find and just a little bit of blush. He made sure to do his lips in a nice deep and dark plum shade, he'd only ever worn makeup twice before, but he knew a little from watching Fiyumi do her magic. Not to mention he'd done his research.

He had brought a small flask to school with him, just a little one, stolen from his father's office. It wasn't anything too strong, just some honey whiskey, he didn't even know what was in the flask until he'd taken a sip. He sighed heavily and stepped out of his limo and through the gates of the school, instantly there were eyes on him, he wasn't sure if it was because of his host status or his makeup. If it was the latter he couldn't care less if they judge him, they've seen him in worse.

He slowly made his way to his classroom, taking out his notebook to take notes on anything interesting he notices.

7:39 - Seika Ayanokoji has a new bag, likely bought for her by her father. It's one of the new lunar releases from the twins mother, I notice she doesn't appear to have the matching heels- but it's possible that she simply chose to not wear them to school. Further investigation will be needed.

7:43 - The one dubbed 'Princess Teacup' has been spotted on the phone with her fiancé, near the window opposite her classroom door. They're discussing his roommate owning a glass tea set, nothing too much of note, but the idea of a glass tea set sounds like something the club should invest in. I will discuss this with Tamaki.

7:50 - Kuze and his friends are blocking the corridor, he's bragging to his friends about something or other that his fiancée did for him over the holiday. Unfortunately I will have to go the long way around, I may even arrive after Tamaki does.

When he finally got to the classroom, Tamaki was already sitting there- just as Kyoya had predicted. Kyoya closed his eyes, bracing for whatever Tamaki may say- because he knows it's going to be extra. He's instantly proven right as Tamaki rushes at him, hugging him tightly and muttering words in both English and French, only settling back into Japanese when he's calmed down slightly. "Kyoya, Mon Ami! Are you alright?? Feeling better? Come on Kyoya, let's sit down."

He drags Kyoya over to their seats, staring at him in worry. He's clearly waiting for Kyoya to say something, but Kyoya just sighs- causing Tamaki to interrupt him before he could even begin to speak. "Kyoya, please speak to me… we were all so worried about you…" Yet they'd only elected to visit him once, only once over the entire summer holiday had they cared enough to come and check on him- even his brother cared more than that. Sure, Kyoya loved Tamaki with his entire heart, but he could still feel bitter and hurt for the neglect of the care Tamaki was trying to imply.

"Apologies, Tamaki." Kyoya didn't want to apologize, he had nothing to apologize for. But he knew he had to keep Tamaki happy, that was the most important thing here- keep the king happy. But for some reason this made Tamaki frown, guilt in his eyes. Kyoya didn't understand it, he'd stepped down from any argument that might arise, he'd let Tamaki's words hit without any fighting back, and Tamaki was sad?

"Why are you apologising?"

To placate you. That was what the truth was, but Kyoya knew he couldn't just say that. He sighed for the second time this morning, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "For the mild amount of concern I appear to have caused you and the others." It was honest, when they'd come to visit that one time- Kyoya had gotten angry at them; how dare they care when he is so unable.

Tamaki sighs, for one of the first times, he looks tired. "Alright Kyoya, just remember you can always talk to me. Alright?" Kyoya just nodded in response to that, taking out his notebook.

8:14 - Tamaki appears to be expressing worry towards me. He lies about the entire club worrying and seemed almost surprised when I chose to apologize in order to placate him.

Up in the club room, they were getting ready for the first session of the year. When each club member walked in, the first thing they did was ask Kyoya if he was feeling better, it was highly disorientating. But it wasn't until Haruhi walked straight up to him and said; "if you're having mental health issues, senpai- I can recommend a couple of resources," with a caring smile on her face, that Kyoya realised why they were being so considerate of his presence…. They were trying to show the care that Tamaki had implied, and Haruhi even had the nerve to assume she knew what Kyoya's problem was.

It was disgusting. How dare they care so much, where were they when he was actively spiralling? Off doing whatever nonsense they were up to. Now he actually had a plan to get what he's always wanted, they decide to care about him? They had two whole years to care, they don't get a third chance. Kyoya simply sat in silence when the others were doing their hosting, just writing his emails.

To: [email protected]

Cc:

Subject: Meeting.

Nekozawa, I have a proposition for you. I would like to meet with you and some others in the second school hall at around 7 pm this Friday. I have some things to say that might interest you.

Until then,

Ootori Kyoya.

He sent almost identical emails to the head of the newspaper club, the head of the karate club and then began to write a version for a certain someone they'd met in the spring half term: Arai. Now Kyoya didn't know the guy's email, he didn't even know the guy's last name. But it only took an hour to find it, he knew enough about the guy after all.

To: [email protected]

Cc:

Subject: Meeting.

Hello Arai, you don't know me. I don't believe we've even spoken directly. But I'm one of Haruhi Fujioka's friends, the name's Kyoya. I'm writing to offer you a unique opportunity, especially for a commoner. At 7 pm Friday, you were invited to attend a private meeting in Ouran Academy's second hall. As well as myself, there will be three people in attendance. I do recommend you come, it will give you a huge opportunity you do not want to turn down.

Thank you very much,

Ootori Kyoya.

He knew he had to use gentler wording with the commoner, from what he'd seen, Arai is a softer gentleman, with just as much of a moral high horse as Haruhi. He in no way wanted to scare the boy off, he knew more business minded manners tended to catch commoners off guard. It was a lot more gentle with the commoner's email than with the others, for the others knew what he was like, and had no qualms with it. He sighed after sending the emails, leaning back in his chair slightly.

Of course the first day was fairly harmless, nothing truly important happened. But Kyoya did notice how Haruhi still wasn't completely affectionate with Tamaki, what an ungrateful girl.

13:27 - Haruhi doesn't deserve him. She refuses to give him the love he so deserves, she must be dealt with.

At the end of the day, Kyoya packed up his bag, kind of irritated that no one pointed out his immaculately done makeup, at least not to his face. The twins hopped over the moment he thought that, ready to say those exact words; "why are you wearing makeup? We've been wondering all day."

Oh that is wonderful, Kyoya felt pleased now, the idea that his little attempt at makeup had the club fashionistas pondering it the whole day was highly pleasing. Especially when Kaoru added on to what they'd said with; "you look really good by the way, is that violet eyeshadow or mauve and white?" Oh that might not have been who he was trying to get the attention of, but the fact he got someone's attention still cheered him up significantly.

"Actually it's magenta with some violet shimmer." He adjusted his glasses so they could see better. "I'm glad to hear you like it."

The twins nod, humming in approval. "Why are you wearing it though?" Hikaru repeats the question, the same question Kyoya had purposely avoided.

He sighed, moving his head slightly so the light glints off of his glasses. "Does it matter?"

"Considering that brand of lipstick is specifically marketed to attract people, I'd say it's curious you chose that one specifically." Kaoru spoke with a devious smile on his face, instantly hitting the nail on the head. Kyoya wasn't even sure how to proceed, they'd caught him already, and he was furious at that- can a boy not be wickedly homosexual in peace?

"Well is that really any of your business?" He raised an eyebrow, challenging the twins, did they really want to be that brave? Clearly they didn't, from the way they raised their hands in surrender and left the club room.

Kyoya let out a soft sigh of relief, his eyes drifting over towards Haruhi and Tamaki… they were cuddling on the chaise lounge, kissing occasionally too- not a care to the fact he was remaining in the room. He felt the rage growing in his core, he could just throttle that commoner.

16:30 - The happy couple are showing off their affections finally, it makes me sick how they care not for how I may judge them. I was under the impression Haruhi cared not for these frivolous affections.

#ohshc #kyoya ootori #kyotama #tamaki souh #tamaharu #haruhi fujioka #kaoru hitachiin #hikaru and kaoru #hikaru hitachiin #nekozowa #kyoyassecondshot

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excindrela · 4 years ago

Text

12 Days of Demon Ayno -Day 9 (18+)

Supernatural AU

Pairing: demon! Ayno (Noh YoonHo) VAV / Female reader

Genre: Fluff/ Angst/ Smut

Warnings: Cussing, alcohol consumption, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap it before you snap it!)

Word Count: 5031 (...I did not mean to write War & Peace...)

AU: OMG DAY 9 IS FINALLY DONE! (So I guess we’re having Christmas in July) I’m sorry this one took so long. I knew where we needed to go, I just couldn’t get there. Good news: Day 10 is started, Day 12 is done! (We might skip 11) I have also started NYE & Lunar New Year (I’m writing all of them simultaneously) I love feedback- so if there’s something you like, or something you want to see- tell me!! Thanks to everyone who has stuck around! Special thanks to @quyennie for being my editor!!

Demon Ayno: Summoned, Thanksgiving, 12 Days: Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7 | Day 8 | Day 9 | Day 10 | Day 11| Day 12 | NYE | Lunar New Year

On the 9th Day of Christmas: You Took Ayno to the Office Holiday Party

It was a little after three thirty when you came through the apartment door wearing baggy sweats, a zip up hoodie with nothing but a tank underneath, fuzzy flip-flop slippers, and no gloves. Even with the calf length down coat on you were freezing, but you couldn’t risk wrecking your once a winter pedi and once a year mani. Even though the heater was on and it hit you like a blast furnace the minute you came in, you were still shivering.

“Ayno? Are you here? I’m home.” The question was rhetorical. You knew your beautiful demon was there somewhere because the TV was set to a music channel playing Christmas standards, and something smelled good.

Ayno came striding out of the kitchen. “Good. I have made you lunch.”, he said as he took your coat. Like a typical human male, he paid no attention to your fancy nails and hair and instead focused on your outfit. “Why are you dressed so inappropriately for the weather?! You will catch a chill and die, and I will have to go back to being a…what was it you called me?”

“Interdimensional hooker. What are we having?”

“Macaroni and cheese. I am told that this food brings comfort, and you seem very agitated today.” He said as he bent down and wrapped his arms around your legs just below your butt and carried you into the kitchen.

“Out of the box?”

“Is what out of what box?” he looked around confused as he deposited you onto a barstool.

“Lunch.”

“Why would macaroni and cheese be in a box? Cheese must be kept cold.”

“You know- the blue box? With the orange powdered cheese? It’s like its own food group.”

Ayno looked horrified. “I do not know what kind of witchcraft would be necessary to turn cheese into an orange powder, but it should not be trusted and I do not know why you would dare to consume it.”

You privately thought he was missing out. Instead, he removed a baking dish from the oven with cavatappi noodles he had baked with some mixture of cream and cheeses and topped with panko breadcrumbs. He dished out a large helping and retrieved a bowl of salad from the fridge and set it next to the mac & cheese. You took a bite…it was creamy and cheesy and delicious…and you were so not hungry.

“It’s delicious, but not exactly cocktail dress friendly.”

Ayno frowned. “You did not eat breakfast. Now you do not want lunch. You are…stressed” he said, happy that he remembered the right word. He moved around behind you, fastening his lips to your neck and slipping a hand inside your jacket to fondle your breast through the thin tank. “You do not smell right…too much cortisol…” he said as his lips worked their way toward your ear. “If you do not do something to relax, then I will have to make you relax.” He gently threatened as his thumb flicked over your erect nipple.

You sighed and closed your eyes, “Ayno, so help me God, if you ruin a $60 hairstyle before I get to that party, I swear I will pour holy water over your head myself!” you gritted out through clenched teeth.

He wisely released you; then reached over and picked up the glass of water above your plate, and poured it out in the sink while muttering something that sounded like “I’d like to see you try it” under his breath, before going to the fridge, grabbing the open bottle of wine, removing the cork with his teeth, filling the glass and setting it in front of you.

He stepped back and looked meaningfully from the glass to your face and back again. You took the hint and drained half the glass in three gulps. Ayno refilled it.

He moved back to your side and picked up a forkful of mac & cheese and held it up to your lips. You obediently opened your mouth and took the bite. “We should not go to this party if it is making you this unhappy”, he said gently rubbing your back.

You placed your forehead carefully against his chest. “Oh Ayno – I don’t mean to be like this to you. Yes, you are right, I am stressed. The Office Christmas Party is one of my least favorite nights of the year. But this is one of those weird human social things that you have to attend even though you don’t want to.”

He continued rubbing your back comfortingly. “I will stay home if it will make you less worried.”

You put your arms around his waist and looked up into his concerned eyes. “Not a chance. Having you as my date is the one thing I’m looking forward to about tonight.”

* * *

You came through the doors of your building at 7:41 and the Atrium was already packed with people and the party was in full swing. Ayno slid your coat from your shoulders and went to take it and your bag to the coat check. Meanwhile, you glanced around and saw Tenley & Kara leaning against the wall by the elevator bank and headed straight over.

“Hey!” “There you are!” They called as you trotted over as fast as the slippery soles of your strappy sandals would allow. You all engaged in the typical “girl hug” that involved leaning over with your butt sticking out and the bare minimum of contact while patting the other’s back.

“Cute dress Ten!” you said. “Thanks! I was accused of being boring by Danielle, so I decided to embrace my ethnicity!” she replied, smoothing the peony embroidered satin of her mandarin collared mini-qi pao. “But it’s still black. Festive is Kara’s job.”

“What? It’s still a neutral! Just because I refuse to join the sea of black dresses with you two…” she retorted, giving her hips a little shake that made the silver beaded dress shimmy with her.

“I like it Kara! Perfect for New Year’s Eve too!” you supported.

“Right?! Kill two parties with one dress!” she affirmed.

“I thought Ayno was coming tonight?”, Tenley questioned.

“Oh, he’s here. He’s just dropping my things at coat check.”

Then Kara’s brain caught up with the conversation and she turned to Tenley looking confused “Danielle? From the Data Matrixing dept. called you boring? They only have one ‘Danielle’, right?”

At that, Tenley launched into her story the way only catty girlfriends can about another woman throwing them shade. She was just wrapping it up when you noticed Kara’s attention had been diverted.

“I don’t know what department that belongs in, but whatever it is, I will find out, and then I am transferring there whether I have the requisite skill and experience or not.” Kara said, her gaze never wavering.

You understood. You smiled at the tall, well-built man that had captured her attention, his fire engine red suit tapered from his broad shoulders to nip in at his slender waist and the pants caressed his muscular thighs. A black mesh shirt peeked out from underneath the jacket and was accented with a couple silver chains at his throat. He was stunning – and oblivious to the attention he was garnering: wide eyed open mouth stares from the ladies and looks of undisguised envy from the men. He glanced around and spying your little group he made his way over with four filled champagne flutes tucked between his long fingers. He handed out the champagne, gave a blinding smile and said “Hi!”

Kara giggled. You just shook your head. Tenley took command of the conversation. “Hi Ayno. It’s good to see you again. I like your suit! It’s a much better look on you than the reindeer sweater.”

“Thank you, I think so too. It itches less. Although, it does not have lights like the sweater, so I think it is unlikely I will win a prize. I think you look better too.”

You laughed. “Kara, this is my boyfriend, Ayno. Ayno, this is Kara- she’s our department assistant.” “Which means she’s the only one who has any idea what’s going on.” Tenley supplied as Ayno, excited to once again be practicing traditional human greetings, extended his hand to Kara.

Kara shook his hand and then downed the whole glass in one gulp. You followed suit, and then handed the glasses back to Ayno. “Will you be a love and go get us 2 more?”, you asked him sweetly. He bent down until his face was even with yours. “Please?” you smiled at him. He smiled back, “Yes Mistress. I am always happy to serve you”, he whispered as he planted a quick kiss on your lips and then turned on his heel and headed to the champagne fountain.

“Ho-lee crap!” Kara said to no one in particular. She looked at Tenley, “You said he was hot, you didn’t say he was the male equivalent of a Victoria’s Secret angel.”

You snickered at the idea of Ayno being an angel of any kind. Kara turned slowly and looked at you. “He’s cute? He’s tall? I love his smile? Seriously??? How about he’s breathtaking and sexy as fuck??”

You laughed. “Sorry Kara. After my last boyfriend…I just sort-of downplay things now. And yes, Ayno is breathtaking…sometimes I think people look at us together and wonder what a man like that is doing with me.”

“Whatever! He’s with you, right? And he doesn’t seem to be going anywhere.” She grabbed your arms and turned you to face her, “Please tell me he has a single brother?” she mock pleaded.

“Actually, he has six brothers.”

Both of them stared at you wide eyed. “SIX BROTHERS?” they chorused in unison. “Are they all single and do they all look like him? I just want one.” Kara said. “Yeah, one for you & one for me” Tenley agreed.

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen them. But they’re…uh…adopted, so I’m not sure what they look like.”

“Well, you clearly hit the jackpot on this one. He’s gorgeous and seems totally devoted.” Kara said with a touch of envy.

“I know, right? I want a man who follows me around and does whatever I say without question while looking at me adoringly too.” Tenley agreed.

The conversation was halted by the ding of the elevator doors opening to reveal a couple of drunk colleagues from accounting stumbling out tipsy and looking slightly disheveled. They looked around nervously before slipping back into the crowd. “Like we didn’t all know about that…” Tenley said rolling her eyes.

You were glad the conversation shifted away from Ayno. Not only was answering questions about him like walking through a mine field, but something about the champagne or the girl’s words had made you uneasy. You didn’t doubt Ayno truly had feelings for you, but you sometimes wondered if he would stay if he had a choice. Did he only stay with you because he had to? Was this like Stockholm Syndrome where you fall in love with your captor as a coping mechanism? Was he devoted because he had to be, not because he wanted to?

Your thoughts were interrupted by Ayno’s arrival with more champagne. You took the glass he offered, and then turned away to eye the crowd- causing Ayno to frown slightly. Kara, emboldened by the alcohol now coursing through her veins, pounced on him in full getting-to-know-you mode. Normally you would have jumped in and changed the subject, or answered for him, but you were so edgy you decided to just let him handle it. If he freaked out, transformed into his natural form, and rained hellfire on the building then so be it. You still listened with half an ear, proud that he remembered the answers you had practiced to common personal questions.

Your sudden coolness was not lost on Tenley. Sensing that Ayno might need to be rescued from Kara, and the two of you might need a moment, she nudged you, “Hey. Have you shown Ayno our floor yet?”

You looked at her with something between distain and annoyance. “No. I can’t imagine why Ayno would want to see our cubicle farm.”

“Nope. You don’t get a choice. It’s an unwritten rule that all new significant others must get a tour of the prison cells at their first Christmas Party, so they have a frame of reference for stories of office shenanigans and sympathy for the conditions we are suffering in when we have to work late”, she said matter-of-factly. With that, she punched the elevator button, snagged your champagne glass, and shoved you in when the doors opened, Ayno following right behind you trying not to laugh. The last thing you saw was her giving you a cheesy grin and a wave of her waggled fingers.

The elevator ride to the 9th floor was quick but felt like an eternity with the two of you standing in silence, you just out of Ayno’s reach. You walked at the same speed you did during your workday, lengths ahead of Ayno who strolled along behind you down the hall past the conference and break rooms, eventually arriving at the center of the floor full of cubicles.

“This is it.” You sighed, bored.

Ayno nodded. “I have seen this before.”

“Someone summoned you to their office building?”

“No. Purgatory. There are several levels that look just like this. I recommend avoiding it.” He paused, “Which chamber is yours?”

You started walking and Ayno followed you to your desk. “This is it. This is where I spend most of my day”, you said gesturing to your glass walled box full of pre-fab office furniture.

Ayno stepped inside and sat in your chair. You were surprised how normal he looked sitting there, as though you might have come around the corner and found your handsome coworker at his desk.

While you absentmindedly stared off into space, he took in your workspace, thinking to himself that it was rather like a cage, and feeling sorry that you spent so many hours there. He smiled when he saw that the one truly personal thing on your desk was a small photo of the two of you.

Knowing Ayno would follow, you slowly began strolling out of the maze of cubicles, idly wondering how much longer you’d have to stay at the party for people to consider it an “appearance” and what you needed to do to give the impression that you had had a good time.

“What is this place?” you heard Ayno’s voice behind you as he stuck his head into an open doorway.

“That’s the break room.”

“Ah!”, Ayno said with comprehension, “The domain of Cody the Coffee Snob and Amber the Refrigerator Nazi!” You almost laughed– he always asked how your day was when you came home, and you were impressed he had paid attention to your rambling stories about office drama …but it made you feel even less worthy of him. “Was the identity of the Lean Cuisine thief ever discovered?”, he asked as he continued to follow you.

“Nope. It remains a mystery.”

“What is this place?” he asked stepping into yet another doorway.

You followed him. “This is the conference room. We come in here when we have important things to discuss. That triangle thing in the middle of the table lets us watch Power Points, call other offices, make announcements…or sometimes we just use the table and talk.”

You turned to leave, but the door slammed shut. You didn’t need to ask how. Taking a deep breath, you turned and walked back to your waiting demon.

“What is wrong?”

“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong- I’m fine.”

“No. Something is very wrong. You have stopped speaking to me. You are not looking at me. You are pushing me away”, he paused looking sad and confused “What did I do wrong? Please tell me, because I do not know.”

You sighed. “Nothing…you haven’t done anything wrong – I swear…I was just thinking about things the girls said to me and about you being with me…it just made me question whether you would be here if you had a choice.”

Ayno slipped a hand around your waist and pulled you against his body, his other hand tipping your chin up to look him in the eyes. “Do you really doubt my feelings for you?” he asked gently.

You looked into his deep eyes and shook your head, “No, I believe your feelings are very real. I just wonder if you would choose to be with me if you had another option.”

Surprisingly, Ayno smiled. He gave a small laugh and a little shake of his head, “How old am I?”

“Uh…Eight hundred and…something…”

“Fourty-four.” He supplied. “You are not my first patron. I have had so many masters and mistresses in these years that I lost track long ago. You are not the first to want to keep me…but you are the only one I have ever stayed with. I assure you that if I wanted to leave, I could make your life so miserable that you would release me and beg me to be gone.”

Then he threaded his fingers into your fancy hair and pulled your face to his. He kissed you hard, tongue pillaging your mouth as he pressed his body tightly against yours. He backed you up until your butt hit the conference table, and then lifted you slightly so you were sitting on it. He finally released your mouth and dove straight for your neck. “No! Ayno! What are you doing?” He pulled his head up and looked at you with eyes so deep they bordered on maroon, “This is a conference room. We are having a conference. Apparently, I need to explain to you again how much I want you. That I will willingly be your slave until the end of time. That I am wholly yours…not just because you keep me, but because I choose to be. So, I’d start taking notes, Mistress, because I am going to fuck you until you get the memo.”

With that he pushed you down on to the table and resumed his attack on your neck. You could feel the heat of his mouth even as the cold of the glass covering the table penetrated your thin dress. You shivered, unsure if it was from that or Ayno’s sudden aggression.

Ayno put one knee up onto the table and pressed his other thigh against your waiting heat as he continued sucking harshly on your neck and chest working his way ever lower. You felt yourself growing warm and wet as he ground his thigh against your core. “Ayno! You’ve got to stop… someone could come in and find us!” you pleaded. “Let them”, he growled low in your ear, “I don’t actually care.”

“I care! Anyone could just walk in! And one whole wall of this room is glass!!” Making an inhuman sound, Ayno raised his head and held one hand up toward the door. A rope of red energy shot out and zig zagged around the door and frame stitching the door closed. Then he waved his hand in the direction of the windows and you watched as they turned black like magic demon limo tint. “Better?” he hissed. He had that determined look on his face – the same one he’d had when he showed up the night of the Halloween party…and once again you realized there was no escape. Ayno in pure demon mode was a dangerous force that both scared the crap out of you and turned you on in a way you could never have imagined. You suddenly noticed that his shirt and jacket had disappeared from his body and recalled his warning about why conjuring his clothes was a bad idea.

His hands roughly yanked the straps from your dress down and to the side pushing your dress down and causing your breasts to spring free. He brought his other leg up onto the table and pushed your dress up to your waist before he reached down and flipped the crotch of your thong to the side plunging his fingers into your already dripping pussy. “Always so wet for me…”,he hummed, “I know how much you want me, and I am going to show you how much I want you”, he said as he worked his fingers in and out of you rapidly while he sucked on your nipples. Your barely there underwear were finally in his way so he pulled them off and slingshot’d them somewhere unknown in the room- not caring about where they landed or how you were going to find them, before plunging his fingers back in and rubbing at your G spot at a frenetic pace. You could feel the pressure building in your belly. Needing an outlet for your own desires, you consciously willed him naked (enjoying that particular power you had) and once your will was done, you reached down and grabbed his cock and begin stroking it. You knew that you didn’t need to, but feeling his length running up and down in your hand felt so good…and you knew that he enjoyed it. “Do you like that?” You choked out. “Yes”, he whispered. “I like it when you touch me.” His fingers rubbed your G spot in time with the strokes you made to his cock. The tingling sensation you were feeling in your fingers and toes was causing your hips to buck. “Oh! Oh!” you cried as you whimpered his name like a mantra as your walls clenched and your juices ran down onto his hand.

He lifted your ankles to his shoulders and slid easily between your folds with how worked up you were. He leveraged his weight and trapped you between him and the conference table as he speared into you hot and hard. Every thrust sent you sliding backward across the table. Your nails dug into his biceps as his thrusts gained in strength and speed and the table began to groan in protest. Somewhere around the middle of the table Ayno’s hands finally found a grip and you stopped sliding. You couldn’t help the loud moans escaping your lips and mixed with the sound of skin on skin as his hips slammed into the back of your thighs, the creak of the table and Ayno’s soft grunts, it was intoxicating - you closed your eyes and let it echo in your head and overtake your senses.

You reached between your legs and firmly pinched your clit, rolling the ball of nerves between your fingers. Your mind was empty as you looked at Ayno’s beautiful lust filled face and saw his ab muscles rippling as he drove himself into you. Robbed of the ability to form coherent words, you settled for the vocal equivalent of a keyboard smash as your legs began to shake and your orgasm overtook you. Ayno continued his thrusts until you had ridden out your high before he lowered your legs and unsheathed himself from your over stimulated body.

You laid there on the table, sweaty and panting. Something gleamed out of the corner of your eye and lolled your head to the left. It was a small red light. The world came back into focus as the realization hit you: Ayno’s hand had finally found purchase on the command console in the center of the table…which was where the red indicator light was coming from…on the “Intercom- all office” button. Oh shit. Oh shit no. That thing over-rode everything else…including the music being piped into the party. Your moans of ecstasy weren’t echoing in your head, they had just been echoing through the entire building – including the party in the atrium and on every single floor. Everyone in this building had just heard you and Ayno going at it on the conference table. You reached over and gently pressed the button again, watching as the light went out.

You were in such a state of shock and horror at the realization of what had just transpired that you almost failed to notice Ayno’s naked body, covered in a light sheen of perspiration, planking over you. His eyes, still burgundy ringed with pink, bored into you. “Have we reached an understanding Mistress? Or would you like me to explain it again?”

“I got the memo, and while I’d love to go over it again, I think this is not the place.”

* * *

It had only taken a few moments for you to assess the situation. Your up-do was ruined, you were sweaty and smelled like sex, and you couldn’t find your underwear. You were a hot mess. Worse, the keys to the apartment – and the car- were in your purse that Ayno had politely coat-checked…right by the front doors of the building…so any thoughts of sneaking out an exit door on another floor and just going home without having to see anyone were dashed. You were going to have to do the ultimate walk of shame. The only good thing you could say was that it took only a heartbeat for you to desire Ayno back into the red GQ suit – and there he was- looking like nothing had happened.

As soon as you had finger combed your hair, adjusted your dress, and given up hunting for your thong, Ayno un-tinted the windows and released the door.

The hallway and elevator bank were mercifully empty.

If the elevator ride up had seemed to take forever, the ride down felt like an express. You wanted to just stand in the corner, but Ayno wasn’t having it. He pulled you to his side and wrapped one long arm possessively around your waist.

You took a deep steadying breath, squared your shoulders and lifted your chin as the elevator thumped to a stop. The bell dinged, the doors slid open, and your heart began pounding. Maybe the system was turned off? Maybe everyone was so drunk they wouldn’t notice you?

No such luck. While you were sure it wasn’t really the whole room it felt like everyone turned to stare at the two of you. You felt your face go hot, and you were certain that your cheeks matched Ayno’s suit. Ayno, who wasn’t the least bit embarrassed, kept his arm tightly around you and steered you straight into the crowd. You heard giggles, saw knowing smiles, got some judgmental frowns with accompanying head shakes, and a few hissed “yes girl!”s as you passed people. You saw Kara & Tenley over by the snack table, both sporting giant grins, who as soon as they caught your eye held up a cocktail napkin in each hand like Olympic judges- at least they gave you four 10.00s. You were almost there when Santa, who was in fact Ernie from Accounting, walked by and said “Ooooo! Someone’s on the naughty list now!” …and you could have sworn Brandon from IT high fived Ayno who simply continued strutting along unfazed, with a cat-that-ate-the-canary smirk on his face.

You finally reached the coat check, and Ayno handed the pimple-faced college age clerk the ticket. He returned a moment later with your coat and bag, looked at Ayno and said, “Well at least I don’t have to ask if you two enjoyed the party.” You snatched your bag from him and pushed your way out onto the freezing sidewalk, making a beeline for your car. A moment later, you heard Ayno’s laughter as he ran up behind you and threw your coat around your shoulders before sweeping you up into his arms and carrying you the rest of the way.

* * *

When you got out of the shower, Ayno was lounging on the bed shirtless in a pair of pajama pants. The intense gaze had never left his eyes, so you avoided it by heading to the mirror to comb out your hair. You were about three strokes in when you felt yourself being pulled backwards around the waist. Looking down you saw the red energy rope that was dragging you to your demon’s waiting arms. As soon as you got there, he pulled you against him and the ropes wrapped around the two of you, binding you together. You remembered that struggling would make them tighter, so decided to just enjoy the feeling of being forced against him without escape. The intense look in his eyes was now accompanied by an arched eyebrow. He knew your mind was busy. He was waiting.

You sighed. “I’m sorry about tonight. I know I ruined the party for you…I get so nervous & stressed about things like this… I feel like I keep questioning you Ayno, and it’s not fair. Never once have you not been perfectly clear about your desires, feelings or intentions. So, no more – it’s not your fault I’m being insecure. I apologize for treating you this way, and I will do better.”

Ayno smiled and pressed his lips to your forehead. “I am not upset. I understand. The reality of me challenges everything mortals assume demons to be. We are all supposed to be ugly, deceitful minions of evil, not humanoid in appearance and capable of honesty and feelings. This is not about you or me – it is about whoever damaged your heart before I came. Your questioning comes from fear- the fear that you will experience the same pain again. I am used to this. Do you think I am summoned by people who feel secure and happy and loved? Quite the opposite. I am called to fill a void, and my temporary nature makes me ‘safe’. I told you, I will take good care of you and I will not hurt you. I promise this. You may doubt all you wish. I will just keep explaining it to you over and over and over until you know”, he said kissing your cheeks gently as he finished.

You kissed him deeply before meeting his eyes. “I already know Ayno. But I’m happy to let you remind me as often as possible.”

And with that, Ayno turned out the lights, and reminded you again.

#ayno #vav ayno #demon #demon ayno #noh yoonho #vav fanfiction #vav smut #kpop fanfiction #vav fluff #vav

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ash-trash · 4 years ago

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💗💥☀️🌙🌺 for all your ACTIVE RP charr.

Oh my! To keep this from going overboard, I’m going to keep this to Charr that are participating in active guild or open RP! Let’s get started...

Sela Lunarstep:

💗 Ramble a bit about this character!

Oh gosh, there’s so much to ramble about! Sela’s actually not my oldest EU character, she’s younger than Kurra by a smidge, but she’s definitely my favorite! She’s currently having a pretty rough go of it, but I really love thinking about her “private” life outside of Warband stuff - she gets into tussles, makes jewelry, all sorts of exciting things! :3c Sela’s name comes from, shocker, the Greek moon goddess Selene, while Lunarstep has changed a bit over the years. Originally, she was a shadowstep thief build, which is where the Lunarstep came from, but now it’s more of a... she’s always at the front of the pack, leading the charge, sort of deal. :p

💥 Are there any emotions your OC doesn’t know how to deal with, doesn’t understand or hates having to feel? Any reason behind this?

Sela is garbage at dealing with anything related to her own vulnerabilities and weaknesses, aha. She’s built up this huge facade of bravado that fixates on her being the perfect soldier and the best Legionnaire and so she has a huuuuge amount of trouble asking for (or accepting) help, or admitting that she can’t do something. Vulnerability is a big no-no and so naturally, although she does well with the more maternal relationships within her Warband, she really struggles with anything that veers towards the romantic. As far as hating to feel something, she hates to be embarrassed or humiliated, again related to her own pride and confidence.

☀️ How well does your OC take care of themself? Do they tend to put others before their own wellbeing and if so how often? What is their favourite way to pamper themself?

I’d say that she does a pretty good job of taking care of herself, but she absolutely puts others before herself. She prides herself on taking care of her warband and spoiling them and that often translates to making sure they get the lion’s share of the goodies while she scrimps. That said, she does have enough of an ego to feel that she “deserves” the good stuff, so she generally takes care of her own needs pretty well. Except sleep.

🌙 What are some of your OC’s favourites? Favourite food, colour, season, stuff like that! Give some general simple facts that tend to get overlooked!

Hmmm, stuff that’s overlooked... well, her favourite colour would be purple, season would be fall (she likes the milder weather and really enjoys the autumn leaves), flavorwise she loves spicy things (honestly, just because she’s trying to show off and be tough) as well as deep rich flavours... More obscure stuff might be: Her favourite time of day is late night, favourite bunk is the bottom one, favourite horn is her upper right one, favourite instrument would be the flute (she tends to prefer her music in the higher ranges - piccolo’s up there too!), and favourite cheese would be a nice heady parmesan.

🌺 What additions would your OC make to their body if they could? Lets say, if they don’t have a tail would they want one? Wings? Horns? Do they wish they could shapeshift?

Sela’s pretty happy with her body as it is, but there’s definitely a few changes she’d make. As much as they’d get in the way, she kinda wants bigger horns, and definitely bigger teeth. She’d love to be even more flexible than she is, and she’d like some extra muscle and definition to her legs. Wings would be nice, but definitely not all the time. Shapeshifting, of course! That would come in so handy!

Graf Towercleave (Yes, he still counts >.> ):

💗 Ramble a bit about this character!

Ah, Graf, my old man... Graf is definitely one of those characters with the most fleshed-out backstories, especially in how it affects him nowadays, and all the traumas and memories that come with it. I don’t remember the inspiration for his first name, but the second part was because he was originally designed to be a WvW Firebrand in his off-time (which... never came to fruition, oops), so Towercleave. I’m really excited to see the next step in his journey, though it coincides with my own journey in such a way that I do find myself getting emotional about the good-byes... ;w;

💥 Are there any emotions your OC doesn’t know how to deal with, doesn’t understand or hates having to feel? Any reason behind this?

I’d say that Graf doesn’t really do well with a lot of the “non-Charr” emotions/feelings: any sort of romance, faith, or selfishness. He’s learned to deal with them in others, to be sure, but they’re still fairly alien to him. I’d say that as far as things he experiences that he struggles with, it would be the trauma of his past - whether it’s something that he experienced in the Sieges, or in his time with the Vigil, he... doesn’t do well with being “scared”, or not in control.

☀️ How well does your OC take care of themself? Do they tend to put others before their own wellbeing and if so how often? What is their favourite way to pamper themself?

He does good at taking care of himself, though perhaps a bit more spartan than is strictly necessary, because that’s what he’s used to. He’s been a soldier his whole life, through and through, and he knows how important maintaining his equipment, including his body, is. He does a good job at keeping himself in shape and healthy, though perhaps to a detriment of not allowing himself many luxuries (except for warm baths, those are always welcome). Although he does consider others, he usually tends to leave them to their own devices, except when he decides they’re too young/naive/bullheaded to do it properly, such as a certain blue-haired warbandmate.

🌙 What are some of your OC’s favourites? Favourite food, colour, season, stuff like that! Give some general simple facts that tend to get overlooked!

Favourite food would be some good old traditional charr chow. Grilled meat, lots of special sauce, no fancy frou-frou to mess with it. Maybe some cheese. As far as colours, although most of his life tends to be filled with red, he’ll admit to liking a nice deep dark navy blue the best. The sea has been a rare treat for him, and he enjoys it when he can. Favourite season would have to be winter. Although he doesn’t care for the snow and cold and slush, he likes the way it makes the world slow down. He likes that everyone hates it together, I suppose. Some more obscure ones... his favourite flavour of pie is strawberry, his favourite place was a small grove in what is now the Dragonbrand - nowadays, it’s probably the Hero’s Canton, because it has the most nice memories without bad ones to taint it.

🌺 What additions would your OC make to their body if they could? Lets say, if they don’t have a tail would they want one? Wings? Horns? Do they wish they could shapeshift?

Honestly, he’d mostly just... fix his current one. Make it less old, less achy, less stiff. Shapeshifting and the rest of it sounds like a lot of faff. He wishes he had a third set of ears so he could hear humans better. Maybe another pair of arms to hold more things.

Naphtha Seizetar:

💗 Ramble a bit about this character!

But I ramble about her so muuuuch, FINE. For any newcomers, Naphtha was originally a villain in a Lunar plot that met a gruesome end, but I loved the concept so much that I had to remake her (a sort of AU, what-if-her-life-turned-out-different) as a good girl. I’ve actually got a sort of spooky story in the works with her (and at the rate I’m going it might be spooky season before it’s ever finished) that’s going to give her a bit of development with her magic because right now the poor girl is a dummy and would rather play with pressure cookers.

💥 Are there any emotions your OC doesn’t know how to deal with, doesn’t understand or hates having to feel? Any reason behind this?

A lot of them, probably. Naph is a sweetie but she doesn’t do well with a lot of “serious” things. She likes being left alone to her own devices and is still getting the hang of the much-more teamwork oriented Seize group. So I guess emotionally, uh, things like teamwork and codependence and responsibility, whatever emotions those are. As far as hates feeling, she really doesn’t like feeling like she’s wrong (ironically). She doesn’t like feeling like she’s being irrational, or that she’s not justified in what she’s doing.

☀️ How well does your OC take care of themself? Do they tend to put others before their own wellbeing and if so how often? What is their favourite way to pamper themself?

She does not. Naph is the kind of gal that would go weeks without showering, live off of corn chips and stale marshmallows she found under the couch, and develop a 12 coffee a day habit so she only has to sleep once a month. Naph does not take very good care of herself at all, and she takes care of others even less. She’s not necessarily inconsiderate, she just... as above, doesn’t do well with the whole teamwork thing and kind of figures that she can take care of herself, so everyone else can too. As far as pampering herself, she rarely goes above what’s “necessary” as far as self-care, but on the rare occasion that she did decide to treat herself, she’d get a lot of fancy soaps and oils and just... go to town on her fur and spend like a whole day grooming and scrubbing and getting the years of grime out of there until she’s as soft and fluffy as can be.

🌙 What are some of your OC’s favourites? Favourite food, colour, season, stuff like that! Give some general simple facts that tend to get overlooked!

Favourite food would be mushroom anything. Probably her favorite ever is something she had in Lion’s Arch one time, some sort of pasta dish with mushrooms and squid ink - it was salty and savory and rich... Her favourite colour would be brown (well, she’d say black but as far as actual COLOURS), and her favourite season would be fall. She likes the spoopy season, and enjoys cronching the leaves. More uncommon things, her favourite shape is octagon, her favorite simple machine is the screw, and her favorite animal is the carrion devourer.

🌺 What additions would your OC make to their body if they could? Lets say, if they don’t have a tail would they want one? Wings? Horns? Do they wish they could shapeshift?

She would absolutely go all out and give herself big ol’ bat wings and like 3 more sets of horns and huuuuge fangs and way bigger claws and a pointy tail and SPIKES and probably a third eye on her forehead... heck yeah.

Elda Throatchop:

💗 Ramble a bit about this character!

Ahhh, Elda. I included her mostly because I wanted to talk about her and also she’s sort of gotten sucked into a few open-ish things lately so she totally counts >.> She’s another NPC-turned-character from Lunar’s Drizzlewood plot, this time a generic helper NPC that was supposed to get killed off but Lunar actually did well enough that she survived, and helped them through the final fight. Aesthetically, she’s actually based off of the Pokemon Obstagoon, which is where her last name comes from as well. Sort of. I’ve honestly had the idea for a Blood engineer in the back of my mind for years now and Elda is absolutely not that! She’s not at all what I would have made had I set out originally to make a Blood engineer, but I love her anyways and I’m really enjoying her.

💥 Are there any emotions your OC doesn’t know how to deal with, doesn’t understand or hates having to feel? Any reason behind this?

Elda hates feeling loneliness. She doesn’t mind being alone, and she can handle that just fine - she likes her private time to tinker or work on projects or test the latest whatever, and she probably does better on her own anyways, but she... needs to know that there’s people there for her if she wants/needs. She doesn’t like being isolated. As far as stuff that she doesn’t know how to deal with, probably regret? She’s so far operated on a kind of “live hard die young” sort of deal (and she almost did, dohohoho) and so when missed opportunities or regrets jump out at her, she’s not really sure what to do about it. It never spurs her to action so she’s kind of just left there staring at it like “so... what now?” and it kind of shuts down her whole mojo for a long time.

☀️ How well does your OC take care of themself? Do they tend to put others before their own wellbeing and if so how often? What is their favourite way to pamper themself?

Elda takes decent enough care of herself. Not exemplary (she’s not out here practicing yoga or getting enough fiber) but well enough! She eats regularly and gets enough sleep and bathes often, so she’s doing pretty good! Although she doesn’t regularly put anyone above herself, she would do it for certain people, like her friends or family. She values them and their role in her life enough that she’s willing to self-sacrifice to make them happy and keep them around. When she does want to treat herself, she tends to splurge a little on some shiny new tool or toy, often with the excuse that it’s for work and it’ll help her be more productive, but she knows that it’s just because it’s bigger and shinier and has an extra spanner or something.

🌙 What are some of your OC’s favourites? Favourite food, colour, season, stuff like that! Give some general simple facts that tend to get overlooked!

Her favourite food would probably be things that are kind of finicky and interactive, so poultry wings, or artichoke, or shellfish. She’s not really picky about flavours, though of course she likes things meaty. Her favourite colour is obviously red, though she’ll admit to a fondness for pink as well. She never understood why humans attach so much meaning to it - pink’s cool. Her favourite season is definitely summer - she likes the clear skies, the bright weather... More random stuff! Her favourite Bop-It command is Twist It, her favourite style of soda pop (if such a thing exists in Tyria, I dunno) is Dr. Pepper, her favourite sport is wrestling, and her favorite piece of clothing is her belt buckle, which is made from the melted down remains of her first gun.

🌺 What additions would your OC make to their body if they could? Lets say, if they don’t have a tail would they want one? Wings? Horns? Do they wish they could shapeshift?

Elda’s pretty happy with how she is, but given her choices, she’d like to be quite a bit taller and a bit bulkier. She wishes her teeth were a bit pointier, and she always wished she could grow a longer mane - she wants to have a big spiky mohawk too. As nice as wings or shapeshifting would be, it seems like having too many things would just get in the way.

#Thanks for asking!#Long post #Sela Lunarstep #Graf Towercleave #Naphtha Seizetar #Elda Throatchop

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