#and now he thinks that a slight miscommunication is entirely his fault

[phatcatphergus]

q called to clear up the miscommunication and now tubbo is blaming himself T-T

Of fucking course he is….

[toaster-77]

It's 12:00 am so here's a weird question:

So, it's midnight as I'm writing this, so my brain is braining in some weird ways.

Anyways, I was thinking about writing cuz I'm working on a WIP right now and realized most if not all of my WIP's focus more on Kaminari than they do Jirou.

That in itself makes sense. I think it's because I just relate more to Kaminari's character growth/arc (or at least the one he should've been given and is still like kinda there) and, as anyone whose sen the art I've reblogged, relate to depressed Kaminari a bit to much in general.

But here's what I was thinking about: Is that a problem? Because obviously with me having several WIP's communication issues come up in a couple. But because it's written from Kaminari's "POV" (I mean I write third person, but the narrative follows him and his privy to his thoughts exclusively so like... I guess POV is the right term?) i think it ends up putting Jirou in the "at fault" position too much, simply because I never end up writing her "POV" (Or if I do, there's less of hers than Kaminari's). And that isn't sitting with me right right now.

For some examples: I have two fics out on Ao3 right now. In the first one I wrote (SPOILER ALERT IG) in the second chapter there's a slight mixup and it makes it seem like it's Jirou exclusively who's at fault for that, which like, doesn't seem right, especially as the first chapter was just shits and giggles. Then in the second fic I wrote the whole premise is on a miscommunication but it's only written from Kaminari's "POV", so it makes him seem entirely not at fault? Especially with the dialogue at the end of the fic, which I still think the dialogue makes sense for both characters, but like, it still makes out Jirou to be the only problem rather than blame on both sides? idk.

So, should I just try and write more stuff from Jirou's "POV" to fix that problem? Because if that is the solution I'm still afraid of just like doing a shitty job at it because I don't relate to the character as much and then it still seems like she would still go in the "at fault" position for miscommunications and other problems. Or is it that I just need to get better at writing?

Anyways, thoughts anyone?

[velvetcloxds]

MUTUAL ATTRACTION| S.B.

Pairing: Sirius Black x Plus Size Fem!Reader

Word count: 2800 words.

Warnings: Bullying, negative body image, negative comments about body, mentions overweight/plus size reader being bullied, degrading nickname for reader

Summary: Reader doesn't believe that Sirius Black truly likes her, thinking that his interest in her is part of some joke to embarrass her for being a plus sized girl. Sirius finds out why she feels this way and attempts to convince her otherwise.

A/N: This is completely self-indulgent, so feel free to scroll past it if it's not for you. Mxx.

“Shove off, Sirius,” Y/n mumbles, the words meeting the ears of a rather confused Sirius Black as he treads out of the classroom behind her. He scoffs lightly as he falls into step next to her.

“Why are you always so mean to me, love?” He muses with a light tone, lightly brushing her shoulder with his own. “Truly, if you continue on like this, I may just think that you don’t like me and give up,” He notes, earning a side glare from her as the pair slip past some first years rushing towards the class they just exited.

“How close are we to that happening?” She questions quickly, pausing briefly at a pileup by the stairs. “Just a general timeframe for the sake of my sanity?”

“I think I could hold out a bit longer,” He confirms, and she shakes her head with a soft sigh.

“You’re that committed to this ploy?” She asks him softly, the crowd starting to move again as a professor guides students into the right directions.

“What ploy?” Sirius asks, brow raised as he stares down at the girl.

“This ploy,” Y/n explains, gripping her books in her one arm as she gestures between her and Sirius. “Convincing me that the great Hogwarts player has somehow decided to court me,” She further explains, rolling her eyes at the boy who holds a confused stare. “I’ve been at this school for six years, Sirius. I’ve outlived all of the pranks, all of the bullying and all of the weight jokes, even this one specifically. And though, to be honest, you’ve held up much longer than the other bastards at this school, it still won’t work.”

“There seems to be a rather large miscommunication happening here, love,” Sirius defends, just barely catching a glance of Y/n’s glare before she starts walking away. ‘I’m not trying to prank you, Y/n. There is no ploy,” He announces as he starts following her. She scoffs. “I like you, is that honestly so hard to believe?” He questions carefully, a hand delicately gripping her elbow to keep her from stepping into her next class. She extends a shy glance at the gentle gesture before carefully pulling away.

“Yes,” She notes plainly, not even sparing Sirius the briefest look before disappearing into the steady stream of students heading to potions.

Sirius lingered for a mere moment before walking to the Gryffindor common room in a haze, shutting the door behind him in a rush as he waited to be acknowledged by James and Remus, currently studying for their DADA quiz.

“She doesn’t like me,” Sirius announces as he falls onto his bed, his friends looking up from their work as he does.

“Who?” James questions, shoving his textbook to the side at the newfound excuse from studying.

“Y/n,” Sirius clarifies and lifts his head to look at his dark-haired friend. “I don’t get it, I’ve been a complete gentleman,” He notes and both James and Remus scoff playfully, locking eyes to share a knowing look. “What was that?” He asks, lifting himself to lean back against his headboard. “What was that look?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Remus answers, also sliding his textbook close, folding his arms over his chest.

“I think what Remus means to say, is that you are the furthest thing from a gentleman poor Y/n will find,” James offers with a sly smirk and Remus looks down to hide a small smirk tugging at his lips as well.

“I’m offended,” Sirius muses with furrowed brows. “Utterly scarred by your insinuation,” He adds with mock hurt and shakes his head when the boys laugh in reply. “Besides, it’s not my adventures with the girls that worries her, I think it’s my adventures with you bunch that’s making her question me.”

“I don’t blame her.” Remus says as he refocuses his attention on his books. “We aren’t exactly the posterchildren for antibullying.”

“Why does that matter?” James asks before Sirius could and Remus sighs, lifting his gaze once again to explain.

“You’ve been practically stalking this girl for a month now and you’re telling me you haven’t noticed how she steers clear of Lucius Malfoy and his friends,” Remus shakes his head. “He has been bothering her for years.”

“That bastard,” Sirius mumbles and drags a hand through his hair. “Why?”

“Well take your pick, she’s a Hufflepuff and a muggleborn and as of lately, he’s been enjoying pointing out that she’s a plus size girl in a sea of smaller girls.” Remus explains which earns a slow nod from James who is now realizing how obvious Y/n’s misfortune has been.

“Wait, you’ve noticed this too?” Sirius asks with a pointed glare at James. “Why haven’t anyone said something to me?”

“Hey, it’s not our fault you’re this oblivious.” James points out and Remus nods slightly.

“Well, bloody hell, I don’t blame her either,” Sirius sighs softly, sinking back onto the bed again. “She probably thinks that I’m just another asshole taking a turn to make her life horrible.”

“Well, do you really like her?” Remus asks to which Sirius nods quickly, hair falling around his head as he moves against the bed. “Then prove her wrong.”

With Remus’ words echoing in his head, Sirius makes his way to the class he left Y/n at, a slight skip in his step due to his newfound knowledge and his plan to not only prove his intentions are pure, but to put an end to her struggle.

“Watch out,” A voice whispers behind him and he pauses, looking back to see his friends stumbling after him.

“What are you doing?” Sirius questions, pulling a hand through his hair as the boys still in front of him.

“Helping,” James explains, patting the raven-haired boy on his shoulder as Remus joins him in leading Sirius on his mission.

Y/n was unaware of the three boys heading towards her current classroom, she was however very much aware of the blonde boy that was in the same class with her at the very moment. Lucius whispered something to the boy at his side, his eyes never leaving hers as a soft laugh echoed from the group surrounding him. He musters a sly smirk as he moves to wave at her slowly. Y/n looks down at her textbook, hand shaking slightly as she adds another ingredient into her cauldron, stepping back just in case an unexpected reaction follows.

“Are you okay?” Lily Evans asks from her side. Y/n tilts her head when she hears the sincere question coming from a girl that may as well be a stranger. She nods slowly.

“I’m fine,” She replies too quickly, Lily stepping closer towards her just as another fit of laughter echoes from Lucius’ side of the classroom, a slight frown tilts into Lily’s lips as she watches the scene unfold, Y/n seeming to grow more anxious as Professor Slughorn announces the end of the class.

“Do you want me to walk out with you?” She asks, settling a hand on Y/n’s shoulder causing her to tense under her touch. Y/n frowns, closing her textbook as she turns to Lily.

“I’m fine,” Y/n repeats her earlier statement, managing a small smile before walking to the door and out of the class in a hurry, her books tightly pressed against her chest as she hears a group of determined footsteps following her, not even noticing the curious gaze of Sirius Black as she passes him in a rush. She pauses for a mere second to consider her route before turning the corner that leads her to the Hufflepuff common room, knowing that even if Lucius does catch up with her, he won’t be able to follow her inside.

“Y/n…” Lucius muses, his mocking tone slicing at her nerves as the hall around her starts to clear, her pace picking up as her heart beats in her throat.

“Where are you going, Piggy.” Another voice chimes in, laughs filling the air as a result of the comment. Y/n tightens her grip on her books and takes in a shaky breath, considering hiding in a cupboard or classroom, trying her luck in finding the room of requirements, but a sharp hand pulling her back empties her head of plans and thoughts, panic shivering though her body as her books drop to the ground in a loud thud.

“He asked you a question,” Lucius notes as he breathes into her neck, pulling her hands behind her back to keep her from running. “Answer him,” Lucius demands, not needing to raise his voice, the closeness of his body against hers fulfilling his flare for fear.

“To the common room,” Y/n admits, voice controlled as she looks at the ground, slightly struggling against his hold.

“Trying to skip out on our daily meetings?” One of his friends ask and Lucius smiles against her ear.

“Pity,” Is all he says as he loosens his grip, throwing her to the ground next to her books where she shuffles back towards the wall, desperately looking around for an escape, the boys making sure to surround her in a way that she couldn’t identify a single one. Lucius removes his wand from his robe, smiling as he points it directly as her, eyes dark as he considers which spell to begin with.

“Step away from her,” A voice commands and Y/n’s eyes shoot up, meeting the beautiful pair of brown ones first before she carefully rakes her gaze over the other two boys standing next to him, wands in their hands. “Now!” Sirius adds coldly the sharp shout filling the entire atmosphere. Y/n flinches at the guttural laugh dripping from Lucius lips. He looks from the girl on the floor to the boys in front of him and grins.

“How sweet,” He notes, bending down slowly where he reaches forward and settles a strong hold on Y/n’s chin, forcing her to keep still as his fingers pinch into her skin. “Defending her honour,” He laughs again. “You’re a few years too late, Black.”

“I know,” Sirius admits, voice forced as he tries to control himself. “But you’re done,” He steps forwards, paying no mind to Lucius’ friends turning to point their wands at him instead. “You’re done hurting her and scaring her, you’re done trying to dim that light,” He pauses briefly as he stills but inches from Lucius’ face, his eyes meeting with Y/n’s for a second as he shakes his head at the soft tears that roll down her cheeks before looking at Lucius. “I will not leave her side, not for a second.”

“But if he does, she’ll have us,” Remus declares from behind him and James nods in agreement. “And Lily and Peter and Marlene and every other person that we know will have her back.” He adds and steps closer to Y/n as well, James moving with him as they shove past Lucius’ friends and still next to Sirius.

“Get her,” James instructs, and Lucius moves aside, grinning still as he mockingly lifts his hands in surrender, his friends doing the same. Sirius wastes no time as he moves towards her, hands carefully latching onto her shoulders as he gently guides her to her feet, removing one hand to gather her books. Y/n avoids the boy’s gaze, numbly wiping at her cheeks to remove evidence of briefly cascading tears as she stumbles slightly.

“Go,” Sirius demands calmly, hands sliding down to the small of Y/n’s back as he faces Lucius, his cold tone earning a surprised reaction from everyone. “And spread the word too, Y/n is under the protection of the marauders, if you cross her, you cross us,” He notes simply, Lucius’ friends nodding quickly before collecting themselves and scurrying away. Only Lucius pauses as he extends another sly smile towards the girl in question.

“Very well,” He comments lightly and shrugs. “I’ll see you around, little Piggy,” He offers with a wink before walking away, Y/n’s hands nimbly grabbing hold of Sirius’ arm to keep him from going after him.

“Are you okay?” Remus questions when he meets the girl’s gaze, she nods slowly in reply.

“You guys didn’t have to do that,” She notes, reluctantly stepping away from Sirius and taking her books from his hold. She shakes her head. “I appreciate it, I truly do. But all you’ve done is shift his attention and tactics to you,” She explains and the boys nod, small smiles tugging at their lips as they look at Sirius who hasn’t removes his gaze from her for even a second.

“We know,” James confirms and shrugs. “But you’re important to him, which makes you important to us,” The dark-haired boy states plainly before tapping Remus’ shoulder, silently inviting him to leave.

“Thank you,” Y/n almost whispers, loud enough for the boys to hear though as they leave her and Sirius with kind smiles and gentle shrugs.

“I didn’t know,” Sirius informs her not missing a beat. “I’m an idiot for not noticing, but I swear I didn’t know.”

“I know,” She sighs, shyly looking down to her feet as his gaze intensifies on her face. “I also know that you’re not like Lucius Malfoy, despite your questionable activities with those friends of yours.”

“I wish I could’ve put a stop to it sooner,”

“It wasn’t your place to do so,” She notes and then shakes her head when she realizes how forward it sounded. “I meant that I could’ve done it myself. I know the spells and to be honest if that didn’t work, I could have just sat on the boy,” She jokes lightly, expecting Sirius to smile only to be met with a rather misplaced frown.

“You thought you deserved it?” He asks after a lingering second and she nods. “It that why you refuse to believe that I truly like you?” She nods again, slower this time, eyes back on the floor as an embarrassed tint of rose meets her cheeks.

“I don’t like myself very much, Sirius Black and I’d be damned if I tried to pretend that anyone could like any part of me when I can’t even do so myself,” She moves her hands to fiddle with the corners of her books. “There’s a lot not to like, is all, and I mean that literally,” She gestures to her body. “There’s a lot,” Sirius scoffs, tilting his heads as he looks down at the girl in front of him, quite unused to this level of honestly.

“You are a phenomenal girl, Y/n,” He notes honestly and moves a hand to her arm, fingers sliding down over her robe to intertwine with hers. “I can’t possibly explain to you what I see when I look at you, but you clearly need some enlightenment," He smiles softly. "I see the dimple on your right cheek when you laugh at Dumbledore’s comments, I see those worn-out band shirts that you wear when you’re studying in the library after everyone has left, I see that little twinkle in your eyes when someone asks you for help with their work, I see how excited you get when they have croissants at breakfast and I see how fragile you look when you’re staring up at the candles in the dining hall alone. I see you, more than you see yourself maybe, but I have yet to see a single thing that hasn’t made me completely and utterly mad about you, Y/n.” Sirius' voice is almost a whisper, his adoring tone causing a bashful smile to sink into the girl’s lips as he waits for her eyes to meet his.

“You like me,” She notes softly, more to herself than to him as she looks down to where his thumb is moving rhythmically across her hand, the movement causing shivers to tickle through her body.

“I like you,” Sirius clarifies, other hand lifting to the crook of her neck, delicately shifting the hair away from his fingers to caress her skin, keeping her in place so she doesn’t look away again. “And I’ll like you enough for the both of us for now, but I will not let another day pass without reminding you just how relentlessly extraordinary I find your very existence,” She smiles, nodding almost mindlessly as she steps forward, not quite ready to kiss the boy just yet, but yearning for the softest touch as leans into him, her books against his chest as his hands remain where there are, only shifting to be sure she’s comfortable against him. She smiles into his shirt, allowing the sweet sensation to consume her when he places a delicate kiss to the top of her head.

“I like you too, Sirius Black,” She announces carefully, tugging numbly on the hand that is folded around hers. “I like you too.”

Hi there, more of my work can be found on Wattpad under @mjoubertt. Mxx.

Masterlist 

[dongofthewolf]

Dancing in the Deepest Oceans- Chapter 3

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

Your first date with Abby doesn’t go quite as planned.

Warnings: mentions of blood and injury, swearing, angst, hurt/comfort, uhhh yea I did that

Here’s chapter three! It definitely took way longer than I expected to do since I really wanted to get a lot of those requests done, so I’m v sorry about that.

Also I kinda cheated and included someone’s request for a bath scene with Abby in this so shhhhh it’s fine I’m just lazy productive like that okay LOL. I hope you all enjoy (esp if you requested the scene) ! :)

Read the previous chapter here

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. You felt like the protagonist in one of those cheesy rom-coms from back in the day; the ones where the girl suddenly stumbles into the arms of her true love and everyone sings a happy song, except this isn’t a movie and also it’s kind of the apocalypse or whatever. You didn’t care though, this was the closest thing to rom-com perfection you were getting and you couldn’t complain, because it was with her.

Though you had only known Abby for a few short days, something inside you couldn’t help but feel like you had known her your entire life. The intimacy of those few stolen glances, the slight brushes of your shoulders, the way your hand fit perfectly in hers; it all felt so natural. You just hoped she felt the same way. 

--

She should be here.

You glanced down at your watch again, it was 8:15. Maybe you had heard her wrong? No, she definitely said eight o clock. Your mind swarmed with possible excuses as to why she wasn’t here; perhaps she thought you were meeting at seven and now she was the one who thought you were standing her up, or maybe she thought you guys were meeting at your room and this was the fault of some kind of miscommunication, or maybe she simply forgot. You racked your brain for any possibilities as to why she wasn’t here, trying your best to neglect the most obvious reason out of denial or maybe fear.

The hallway was dark and quiet, the tile floor cold against your skin as you sat with your knees tucked tightly against your chest. Your back ached from leaning against the steel door, and you had become increasingly more embarrassed every time someone passed by. Their lingering gazes made you want to disappear into the earth beneath you. 

For at least an hour, you sat outside her door contemplating whether or not you should wait for her. Was this whole thing a mistake? Your heart began to sink at the frightening possibility that she had been toying with your feelings this whole time, that you were just a naive girl with a childish crush on this person you barely even knew. God, how could you have been so stupid? This is exactly why you never formed attachments; they always ended in heartbreak, disappointment, or both. As more time passed, the fear and sadness that occupied your thoughts slowly began to fade into frustration.

This was dumb. Why were you waiting around for her like some lost kitten? You scoffed at how pathetic you felt. Anger began to rise in your chest as you thought of all the things you’d say to her when you saw her—how you’d scold her for standing you up, dreaming up this gigantic speech about how if she wasn’t interested she should’ve just told you. Or maybe instead of yelling you would just never speak to her again. Give her the silent treatment for the rest of your life. That is what she wanted anyways, right? 

As you sat there arguing silently with yourself you heard a pair of heavy footsteps headed towards you. You craned your neck to try and see who or what was approaching you, but the hallway was too dark to get a clear view. Panic quickly replaced the anger that had been occupying your heart just seconds ago as you stood up from your uncomfortable position. You could hear the adrenaline pumping in your ears as you squint your eyes at the dark figure headed towards you. A sudden rush of relief fell over you when a familiar face appeared out of the shadows.

“Y/N.” Manny emerged from the darkness. His hair was slicked back into a bun and he wore a nervous expression on his face. The sole of his boots were caked with a thick layer of mud that left a trail of footprints in the hallways, and you pitied the poor soul who would have to clean it up.

“Where’s Abby?” There was a sharpness to your words. You knew you should've been a bit more conversational (Manny had done nothing to you after all), but after sitting on the floor for an hour, you didn’t feel like wasting time on bullshit small talk. If Abby was going to send Manny to get rid of you instead of doing it herself, then the last thing you cared about right now was seeming polite.

“Right, about that…” You raised your eyebrow, Manny’s expression was difficult to interpret and you could tell he was here to break some kind of news to you, but for some reason it felt like whatever bomb he was about to drop was far worse than what you had expected.

“Manny, what’s going on?” You took a small step towards him, searching his face for an answer.

“Isaac sent Abby and I on a supply run this morning. Nothing too difficult, just transporting a few things to another base but…” Manny looked down at his feet as he contemplated his next words “but we ran into a group of scars on our way back and we got separated.”

You suddenly felt a tinge of guilt for thinking all those things about Abby. “W-what do you mean you got separated? Where’s Abby now?” 

Manny’s eyes were fixed to the floor as he delivered the news, his thumbs twiddling together nervously. “I uh… well, I don’t know.” Manny noticed your face twist with anger at his answer and tried to diffuse some of it “But Isaac’s already sent out a group to find her. It’s going to be okay Y/N, Abby is one of Isaac’s top soldiers and you know he’ll do whatever he can to find her.”

You were speechless, but more than anything you were frustrated. Frustrated at yourself for thinking such horrible things about Abby—for having such little faith in her. You wanted to scream at your past self for being so ignorant. Tears began to well in your eyes and Manny’s words did little to comfort you.

“I should be out there.” You marched down the hallway determined to find Abby but Manny was quicker.

His hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you back “You can’t go out there Y/N, you’ll die. Abby’s smart, okay? She’ll find her way back.” 

You tried to resist his grip on your wrist even though you knew he was right. You weren’t a soldier nor did you have the proper training to leave the outpost alone. And while a large part of you knew it was stupid to try and leave, a much bigger part of you didn’t care. You had to find Abby; you were willing to do anything, even if that meant putting yourself in harm's way. 

“I don’t care, I have to go out there.” You managed to yank yourself free from his grip and booked it towards the door but Manny was quick and caught you. Wrapping his arms around your stomach and hoisting you over his shoulder Manny carried you into his and Abby’s room while you fought and cried like a little kid. 

“Fucking let go of me Manny!” Tears stained your cheeks as you sobbed into Manny’s shirt. 

When Manny finally set you down on his bed you were exhausted from crying; the only thing left in your heart now was an overwhelming feeling of helplessness. You weren’t even allowed to leave the outpost to look for Abby, and the only thing you could do was sit in this wretched room praying she didn’t get mauled by a clicker or hung by a Seraphite. 

Manny didn’t feel any better about this than you did, in fact it was his job as Abby’s partner to watch out for her and he failed. Now his best friend was missing and it’s all his fault. The guilt weighed heavily on Manny as he tried to comfort you while you wept silently into his pillow. Even though he couldn’t have possibly predicted the surprise attack, he still felt like this entire thing was his doing. He tried to plead with Isaac to let him go back out and search for Abby but he refused, so Manny figured keeping you safe was the least he could do. 

Hours later you got up from Manny’s bed to use the bathroom, and he was nowhere to be found. You figured he probably went to bother Isaac about Abby or something, he was persistent like that.

You splashed some cold water on your face before tipping your head under the faucet to help ease the dryness in your throat. When you brought your head back up you almost didn’t recognize the person staring back at you in the mirror. Your eyes were red and puffy and there were dark circles under your eyes like you haven’t slept in days. You looked like a mess. Your hair was wild and unruly but at least with that outfit you had spent way too long picking out, you still looked pretty cute. 

At least you were a hot mess.

The longer you stared at yourself in the mirror, the more unrecognizable your face became. And then for reasons you couldn’t explain, you started laughing. A hysterical laugh that echoed off the walls in the bathroom like a sick symphony fell unwillingly from your mouth, and you couldn’t stop. There was something so incredibly sardonic about the events of these past few hours, that your body just decided to break out into a breathless cackle. It was a twisted reaction to a terrifying situation but for some reason it wouldn’t go away. Your stomach began to ache and your throat was dry and sore again. It felt like this sickening nightmare would never end. 

You felt tears begin to well up again when you heard something that immediately shook you from your shocked state: the rattling of the doorknob.

Your heart swelled with hope as you ran towards the door, not concerned about waking up the people in the rooms next door with your loud footsteps. The door creaked open, flooding the dark room with a pale yellow light that blinded you, and from that light emerged a figure you knew all too well— one that you had become intimately familiar with.

Abby limped through the door, at first not even realizing you were standing right there. You were looming in the darkness like some kind of monster, and you tried to speak but nothing came out. The only thing that snapped you out of it was the sound of Abby’s voice, hoarse and hushed like she was speaking into the darkness rather than you. God, you almost forgot how much you loved the sound of her voice. 

“Y/N?” Abby wasn’t sure if she was imagining this. She thought maybe the expired pain meds had some hallucinatory side effects and you were just what she wanted to see the most. Abby’s doubts faded into nothing when you took a small step into the light. In that moment she knew that this was real—that you were real.

When your eyes finally adjusted to the harsh lights you saw her face and gasped. To say Abby was in rough shape would be putting it lightly. There were cuts and bruises all over her face and body, and her clothes were absolutely filthy, but you couldn’t be bothered with that right now. You ran into her arms to embrace her tightly and Abby winced at the contact. Quickly you pulled back out of fear you hurt her, but Abby’s arms wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you back in.

Abby let out a loud exhale and for a small moment the jabbing pains all over her body ceased to exist. The only thing occupying her mind was the warmth of your body—how she could feel your heart beating with how tightly she was holding you, and she could finally exhale.

When you pulled away, a flood of emotions suddenly began to flow through you, filling you to the brim until the only words you could manage to mutter out through choked sobs were “I thought you were-“

“I know. I’m sorry.” There was a somber expression on Abby’s face as she wiped the tears from your cheek with the pads of her thumbs. 

You sniffed, looking up at her, you cleared your throat before speaking “Jesus Abby, your face.“ you softly grabbed Abby’s chin, examining her injuries in the light. There were crimson slices all over her face, and she was beaten black and blue. A particularly deep cut on her forehead had been stitched carefully and there was a cotton bandage wrapped around her left forearm. The state of your distress now seemed like peanuts compared to Abby’s state.

Without thinking you hugged Abby again tightly, revelling in the comfort of her embrace. Abby’s eyes were closed when you wrapped your arms around her, her eyebrows were furrowed and you weren’t sure if she was about to cry or scream. Though you didn’t know much about Abby, you did know she was a soldier—a warrior who wasn’t disturbed easily. You had no idea what she had just been through, but whatever happened had shaken her up pretty good. 

“Here.” Bringing your arms up to the strap of her backpack, you helped her ease it off her shoulder. She let out a breath of relief as you lifted the weight from her back and placed it near the door. 

Looking at Abby now you finally realized how dirty she was. There was mud and grime all over her clothes and her braid was loose and unruly. 

“Hey, uh I’ll run a bath for you, just wait here.” Considering her state you figured a bath would be more relaxing than a shower. Besides, you needed to feel useful right now, and if that meant taking care of Abby for a bit? You didn’t mind at all.

Hesitantly, you made your way to the bathroom and laid out a small towel on the tile floor. Turning on the faucet, you placed the plug in the tub and made your way to Abby, guiding her to the edge of the tub. “Let me know if the water is too hot, okay?”

Abby nodded as she ran her hand under the running water, letting the warmth fall between her fingers. When the tub was full, you turned off the faucet and stood up, using Abby’s shoulders to help steady you as you started for the door but something stopped you. 

“Wait-“ You stopped, Abby’s hand was over the one you placed on your shoulder, securing it there so you wouldn’t leave. She looked at you with pleading eyes as she spoke “Can… can you stay?” Abby didn’t say anything more but you could tell by the look in her eyes she needed you here. 

“Sure. I’ll turn around and you can get undressed.” You turned to face the door, looking down at the tile floor as you traced the crevices with your finger. The only sound that could be heard was the droplets of water that fell from the faucet echoing against the walls and the soft rustling of Abby removing her clothes. Eventually you heard Abby lower herself into the tub, she let out a loud sigh as the tension in her muscles dissipated from the warm water.

“You can turn around now.” Abby’s voice was quiet when she finally spoke.

Slowly you turned around to see Abby sitting in the tub, her legs tucked against her chest as she hugged herself tightly. Her eyes were fixed on the floor of the tub while she rested her chin on her knee. It broke your heart when you saw her injuries in the light. There were deep purple bruises along her shoulder blades and scabbed over cuts along her arms and legs. You also saw scars, a lot of them. Some were old and faded, while others were new, probably sustained within the last couple of weeks.

The steam from the water floated up, fogging the mirrors and warming the room. You made your way to the edge of the tub with a small washcloth, dipping it into the water just slightly. “Here.”

Bringing your finger to Abby’s chin you lifted her eyes to face yours. Her features softened when you met her gaze and lightly you brought the washcloth to her face. Careful to avoid the stitches on her forehead, you rid the dirt from her face, dipping the cloth into the water every once in a while before bringing it back to her face.

Her freckles were more prominent in the light and her eyes stuck attentively studying your movements. When all the grime was gone, you couldn’t help but notice a whisper of a blush on Abby’s cheeks. 

“One hell of a first date, huh?” Abby spoke seriously but you could see a hint of a smirk on the edge of her mouth. A bit of her normal self was beginning to return.

Sitting up more straight now you gave her a small smile. “This is definitely the most interesting one I’ve ever been on.” 

You reached for her braid, undoing the elastic and separating the strands from each other while Abby spoke. “Oh so you’ve never bathed someone during a first date?”

“I can confidently say that this is my first.” Grabbing the small bar of soap from the dish in the corner, you dipped it into the water and lathered it between your fingers. 

The soap filled the air with the scent of pine and rain and you sighed at the smell. It filled your senses and reminded you of the first time you saw her. Not the time in the cafeteria but on that rainy day when you bumped into her for the first time. You inhaled deeply; it smelled like her.

Gently you began massaging the bubbles into Abby’s hair. Weaving the blonde locks through your fingers, and purposely taking longer than necessary. Watching closely as Abby’s muscles relaxed and her eyes fluttered closed from your touch. 

“Lean back.” Shielding her face from the water you grabbed a cup and poured the water over her head, letting the bubbles wash away from her scalp and into the water. “Is this okay?” 

Abby hummed in response and you took that as a yes. You repeated the process while you washed the soap from her hair, doing it a couple more times than needed because you knew it calmed her. 

The bathroom was quiet again, the only sound coming from the steady flow of water from the cup onto her head, and into the water. It was peaceful, and the both of you were content in this familiar silence. Appreciating each other’s company without the need to fill the air.

When you were done you sat up and laid out a towel for Abby, drying your hands on your shirt. “I’ll grab you some clean clothes, just give me a sec.” 

You left Abby to dry off while you searched for some clean clothes. Grabbing what you assumed was a clean shirt and a pair of sweatpants, you made your way back to the bathroom. Standing outside the door, you knocked lightly. “Can I come in?” 

Before you could wait for an answer, Abby opened the door a bit, hiding herself behind it. You handed Abby the clothes and she gave you an appreciative smile, it was small but genuine. “Thanks.” 

You sat beside the bathroom door waiting for Abby and trying not to think about the fact that she could’ve died out there. She was here and that’s all that mattered for now.

Your mind wandered as you picked at your sleeve, you noticed there were a few wet spots on your shirt from the edge of the tub. The cool air made you shiver and you regretted not bringing a sweater, even if this was supposed to be a night in. 

When Abby finally emerged from the bathroom you quickly stood up, unsure of what to do next. Her hair was still damp and spread across her shoulders; this was the first time you had ever seen her without that signature braid and you were in awe of how beautiful she looked. It was such a strange thought but it was the only thing occupying your mind. There was something so rare about seeing her like this that you couldn’t stop the flutter in your heart when it happened. 

Grabbing her hand, you led her to the bed on the opposite side of Manny’s and pulled the covers back so she could slip in. When she settled under the sheets you neatly tucked her in before standing up again. 

You didn’t know what to do now. Would it be rude to stay? Abby clearly needed the rest, but something in you desperately wanted to stay. You decided to let her sleep and started towards the door when you heard a small voice from beneath the covers. “Stay. Please.”

Abby’s voice was quiet and you could hear the exhaustion behind it. You looked at her with a smile and sat down on the bed next to her, pushing a strand of hair from her forehead before smoothing it down softly. She looked at you apologetically as you caressed her head, and  you gave her a look of reassurance even if you were scared out of your mind. Her eyes fluttered closed and her features softened from your touch. You stayed like this for a while, continuing even after her breathing had slowed and you knew she was asleep.

You stayed up watching her sleep; studying the way her mouth was slightly agape as she let out small breaths. She looked so peaceful.

A small teardrop escaped from your eye, and you quickly wiped it away. You knew this wasn’t going to be the last time she’d be like this; battered and bruised and fighting a war that seemed to never end. It hurt your heart to know that she was on this path of self-destruction, but what hurt most was knowing she’d likely never stop. 

You tried not to think about that right now. Eventually letting your attention fall onto the wet shirt that was still stuck to different parts of your body. Removing the item you walked over to the drawer where you had found the clothes for Abby and slipped on one of her t-shirts. It was devastatingly oversized on you but it was warm and smelled like her. 

You settled onto the space next to Abby’s bed, ignoring the ache in your back as you lay flat on the floor beneath you. Though the pain was worth enduring with the knowledge that Abby was here, and that’s all that mattered to you right now. 

While you lay on the floor you began thinking about how different things were just hours ago. It wasn’t long ago that you were practically dancing like an idiot in your mirror because you were going on a date with Abby. It’s strange how many emotions you had gone through in one day, you were almost positive you had broken some kind of record. You chuckled at yourself; surely no one was going to spontaneously break out into a song like in the movies, but you didn’t mind. This was enough— being here with Abby was enough. 

Eventually, exhaustion overtook your body and you quickly felt your eyes becoming heavier. The floor was beginning to feel a lot more comfier than when you had sat down and before you knew it, you had fallen into a deep slumber.

[delimeful]

to taste your beating heart (5)

warnings: blood, miscommunication, imprisonment, arguing

-

Logan met Virgil-- Anx’s eyes over Patton’s shoulder, and watched as his gaze went from bewildered to guarded in half a second.

In the next moment, Anx had shoved out sharply, pushing Patton away from him hard enough to make him stumble back a few steps-- just far enough to be outside the protective ward, Logan noted. 

As though to cover up the fact that he’d just stripped himself of a potential hostage, Anx stiffened up to his full height, fangs bared at them all.

“Careful!” Roman snapped in an eerie parody of Virgil’s normal catchphrase, rising to his feet as Patton narrowly avoided overbalancing.

“No, no,” Patton said, wiping at his eyes without any shame, “it’s my fault, I should have asked first. I always get kind of emotional after thralls break. My apawlegies, Anx.” He accented the words with a flap of his cat hoodie sleeve.

Logan had time to notice the way Anx’s face twisted-- a mix of confusion-amusement-wariness that was familiar from Virgil’s first weeks working with them-- before Roman cut in with a startled shout.

“The thrall is broken?!” he squawked, head whipping back and forth between Patton and Anx. “Since when?”

“None of your business,” snapped Anx.

“Pretty much as soon as I walked in!” cheered Patton, at the exact same time. He paused. “Whoops, sorry, Anx! Did you want that to be... confangdential?”

“Boo,” Roman called, instantly distracted by the bad wordplay, “That was a reach.”

Logan let his audible facepalm speak for itself. “Out of the way, please, Patton.”

Patton obligingly shuffled to the side, and with every step closer Logan took, Anx folded inwards like a snake rearing back to strike. Seeing Virgil’s body bracing for the worst at his approach made something in Logan’s chest pang oddly, but luckily he was well practiced at ignoring such things.

Once at the edge of the circle, he crouched and inspected the activation key. As expected, nothing was out of place. Logan doubted Anx had been awake long enough to even consider tampering with the circle, let alone attempt it.

Now that the ash had cooled, the spell would be vulnerable to outside influence. It wasn’t as big of a concern anymore, seeing as the thrall on Patton had been removed, but Logan wasn’t one to leave things half-done.

… Also, if left unattended, Patton would probably free the vampire without telling anyone even without being under thrall.

Logan set his palm on the activation key and nonverbally cast a warming spell, reactivating the part of the spell that singed any unauthorized fingers messing with his circle. He could add the warming charm into the circle’s layout later, when there wasn’t a twitchy vampire watching his every move.

Despite his efforts to make his spellcasting subtler than usual, Anx still seemed to go still and stiff like hunted prey when the change in the spell sent a mild warmth into the air around them. Those uncanny purple eyes flickered between all three of the hunters for a moment, and then seemed to settle for glaring at nothing.

“So, Draculame, what prompted the sudden change of heart?” Roman asked, arms crossed over his chest.

His tone wasn’t as accusatory as before, but Anx’s bristling only increased, likely at the nickname. It had taken a while for Virgil to realize Roman’s ruder habits weren’t mean-spirited. It seemed like Anx would have to relearn that.

Provided they got that far.

Shaking the rather grim thought away, Logan tilted his head at the vampire. “I’m admittedly curious as well.”

Anx hissed at them, which they probably should have expected. It probably said something about their friend that this had already been standard Virgil behavior before he’d been turned. It was almost nostalgic.

“Now, kiddos, let’s not vamptagonize him!” Patton cut in firmly, ignoring their groans. “It’s almost dawn, so how about we call it close enough to morning and have some breakfast? I’ll make pat-cakes!”

He swanned out of the room without waiting for an answer, nearly hip checking the doorframe as he went. For a moment, Logan half-expected to see Virgil fall in a half-step behind him, like a particularly emo shadow. The absence was jarring.

“He hasn’t slept tonight,” he finally said, capturing Roman’s attention. “Make sure he doesn’t use salt instead of sugar?”

“And meanwhile you will be…?” Roman prompted doubtfully. Logan rolled his eyes.

“Figuring out a way for Anx to safely move to the kitchen, as Patton no doubt wants him there,” he replied, raising a hand to forestall any protests. “I took precautions.”

Roman threw his hands up dramatically, shot Anx a warning glare, and then turned to leave.

“Ugh. There goes my appetite,” he grumbled as he stormed out the door.

Logan allowed himself a sigh and then turned to face Anx. The vampire was still staring at him oddly. “I will be placing a pair of enchanted cuffs on you. They have no chains and they will not hurt you, but if you move against any of us with malicious intent, they will freeze in place.”

“And what am I supposed to do if you move against me?” he challenged automatically, lip curling. “Stand there and take it?”

“The cuffs will not stop you from running or hiding,” Logan told him, “and you’ve proven yourself to be skilled at both of those things in the past 48 hours. None of us are planning on attacking you, but you will have options regardless.”

This wasn’t how he would have reassured Virgil, but this wasn’t the Virgil he knew, the one that trusted him. He couldn’t soothe Anx’s cognitive distortions, not when he was barely more than a stranger.

He retrieved the shiny black cuffs from a nearby cabinet. They hadn’t had a thrall aggressive enough to use them on in months. “If you’ll put your wrists forward, we can proceed. Otherwise, Patton will be bringing breakfast to you, and I’d prefer not to get syrup or blood all over this room.”

Anx eyed him warily for another few moments, but eventually Logan’s patience paid off, and he stuck his wrists out with a growl. Logan reached past the barrier without any trouble and clicked the first one into place. Before he could proceed with the second, Anx’s hand flipped around and grabbed onto Logan’s wrist tightly.

Logan’s head jerked up to meet Anx’s gaze, already shifting his weight to counter a pull, but the vampire didn’t move further, just stared at him intently. “I know what you are.”

He clearly expected some kind of dramatic reaction, but Logan wasn’t in the habit of those, particularly not for such vague accusations. “If you’ll specify?”

“You’re a witch,” Anx said. “I saw you tamper with the circle without any instruments. You have natural magic.”

Logan felt his stomach sink slightly. Logically, he knew that this wasn’t the Virgil he knew, but it still made something in him twist to think of any version of Virgil blackmailing him over his magical heritage. “And what of it?” he asked, as lightly as he could.

“You’re living in the same house as hunters. You’re doing magic right under their noses, you’re going to get yourself killed!” Anx scolded, sounding more like Virgil with every word. “Do you need help getting out?”

Logan wasn’t entirely sure what sort of face he made in response to this endearingly dense offer, but it was apparently enough to make Anx frown with uncertainty. He held a hand out for his other wrist and clicked the cuff on it without any problems, and then deactivated the circle with a simple gesture of his hand over the key.

Anx’s eyes flicked to the door, and Logan tried not to think about him darting out into the early morning sun. He turned and headed to the door.

“Follow me, and you’ll get your answer.”

While traversing the halls, Logan resisted the persistent urge to check behind him. Gone were the slight shuffled footsteps that had previously accompanied Virgil’s presence, replaced by Anx’s supernatural silence, as though he was gliding over the floor without even touching it.

He entered the kitchen, where Patton had evidently wrangled Roman into setting the table. Whether the four plates set out were out of habit or Roman reluctantly accepting Anx’s presence at the table, Logan wasn’t sure.

He cleared his throat, making both of them look up from attempting to draw funny faces with the pancake batter.

“Observe,” he instructed, and then drew a sigil in the air and lit a simple flame in his hand. Behind him, he could practically hear Anx go as stiff as a board.

“Are we showing off?” Roman asked, a bit excited but completely unsurprised. “Should I perform a monologue?”

“Great spell, Lo! No arson in the house, though,” Patton added in a bright chirp. “After all, I have enough ar-sons here already!”

Logan doused the flame by clenching a fist, giving Patton a Look that went blithely ignored. “You two are incorrigible. That was a simple demonstration.”

He turned to Anx, who looked a little shell shocked.

“As we’ve informed you, ‘hunter’ is a title that we use mostly for convenience and ease of access to jobs. We help magical beings just as often as average humans, if not more frequently.”

“We tried out ‘Protectors of the Innocent’ for a while, but it never really caught on for some reason,” Roman added, subtly sneaking a piece of bacon from the serving plate while Patton’s back was turned.

“Perhaps it would have worked better if someone hadn’t only put P.I. on all the business cards, resulting in us being mistaken for Private Investigators and all of our calls being about spousal infidelity for a solid two months,” Logan snarked back, moving past them to retrieve the orange juice from the fridge.

“The printing office charged by the letter!” Roman protested, and then recoiled from the countertop as his next attempt at sneaking ended with his fingers smacked mercilessly. “Augh! Forsaken by those dearest to me! What cruelty!”

“No sympathy for bacon thieves,” Patton chided, wielding his spatula like an instrument of mass destruction. “Go sit!”

Logan seated himself as well, and turned to Anx, who had been watching the banter play out from the doorway with a somewhat dazed expression. “You’re welcome to sit. Patton will likely insist on it, actually.”

“You people,” he enunciated slowly, “are crazy.”

“You get used to it,” Logan assured him with the certainty of someone who had heard this exact phrase from Virgil before. He checked his watch. “It has been some time since you last ate. I can retrieve some stored blood from our refrigerator.”

“Actually,” Patton set a plate stacked high with pancakes in the center of the table with a plonk, “I figured I could just be Anx’s donor for a while!”

Roman, who had just stolen a sip of Logan’s orange juice, did a movie-perfect spit take, and Patton slid the pancake stack swiftly out of range of the spray.

“It will be 55 days before you are viable for another blood donation,” Logan recited the fact automatically, but he was just as thrown off as Roman.

“Not if he drinks from me directly!” Patton retorted, a beacon of cheerful composure.

“What?” All three of them replied, at varying levels of screech.

Anx shot a wild-eyed look at the room at large and took a step back, as though physically distancing himself from the idea.

“Patton, you can’t be serious!” Roman pushed his chair back and stood, looking distraught. “Fangs For The Memories over here might look like Virgil, but he’s proven quite thoroughly that he’s not! We just got you un-thralled, clearly he can’t be trusted not to take advantage of you!”

Logan noticed Anx wince, though he couldn’t tell whether it was from the harsh assessment or Virgil’s name being spoken.

“Me not being thralled anymore is exactly why we can trust him not to hurt me,” Patton said, chin tilted up stubbornly. “He doesn’t know what he did wrong, but he fixed it anyway! That’s more than good enough in my book.”

“Well, maybe your book needs some copyediting!” Roman snapped back, exasperated. “So his unbeating heart isn’t as completely shriveled up as it originally seemed! So what? That doesn’t change the fact that he was the one who thralled you in the first place!”

Logan cut in, physically moving between them to break up the beginnings of a shouting match.

“I have to agree that this is a bad idea, for a multitude of reasons,” he started, raising a quelling hand before Patton could protest. “The matter of Anx’s trustworthiness aside, you shouldn’t be directly donating blood to any vampire. It is an unnecessary risk to your mental and emotional well being.”

“Thank you,” Roman said, apparently keen to seize allies where he could. He gestured expansively, looking at Patton with earnest eyes. “You’ve come so far, Pat. We don’t want to see any of your hard work undone. Virgil wouldn’t want that either; you know he’d fight this harder than any of us.”

Patton’s face had softened at their-- Roman’s sentimental worrying, but even bringing Virgil into it couldn’t sway his determined course.

“I know you guys just want me safe, but this is something I need to do. Even if it is a risk, I can’t be held down by this fear forever. And who better to help me than Anx!”

“Literally anyone who hasn’t threatened to kill everyone here in the last 48 hours,” Roman moaned, dragging his hands down his face.

“Besides,” Patton continued, undeterred, “this way we don’t have to worry about our emergency transfusion supply going low! It just makes sense.”

Logan had to begrudgingly agree. Between the hassle of trying to explain why they suddenly needed significantly more blood and the fact that a vampire drinking directly would replenish blood cells at a much higher rate than drawing blood, the best option really was to have a direct donor. He simply didn't want it to be Patton.

Unfortunately, his odds of actually being able to stop Patton were quite low.

“Nothing about any of this makes sense,” Anx grumbled, having retreated to the hall like a skittish feral cat.

The vampire seemed almost more unsettled by the idea than either of the other objecting parties, despite being the only one who directly benefited from the hypothetical arrangement. Nervous about their responses if he agreed, perhaps?

“We can at least give it a shot!” Patton insisted, coming a little closer to Anx and reaching out to gently pat his shoulder. It spoke volumes that the touch wasn't brushed off or rejected. “It could end up helping us both! And if it doesn’t, we’ll just find another way! You won’t be in trouble for messing up, okay?”

Anx blinked, slowly, still looking somewhat unconvinced that this was reality. Still, after a few moments of exposure to Patton’s encouraging smile, he dipped his head in a nod.

“Okay.”

[mindninjax]

I read the latest chapter for To Shape a Home and wow did it get intense towards the end. You know what has been interesting is that Bakugo claims he wants to stay away from reader, wants nothing to do with her and yet he sure is keeping a close eye on her. He can’t keep his eyes or thoughts off of her. He’s seems drawn to her and has been since she got into town. He’s already displaying his protectiveness over the reader which is interesting. And he’s so perceptive, like he noticed how reader’s body language kept changing with each conversation she had and the way he was listening in on the conversation with fishing… dude why do you care if you don’t want her here? Total lie that he doesn’t care but I know that will come later on I suppose. I think deep down he wants to give her a chance, but he’s being stubborn right now and he’s quite guarded.

To me, I think Bakugo definitely has a curiosity about reader and vice versa. If he wasn’t such an ass to reader in the beginning, I think that reader would be more of inclined to talk to him more. The fight between the two was bound to happen, I just didn’t expect it would happen so soon. They both were horrible to each other with their words. As I said earlier with Bakugo displaying his protectiveness over reader, I think that reader is doing the same thing with Bakugo. When she told him about the effects of smoking and the resulting disease that comes with it, it’s almost like she was trying to spare him the pain and guilt she feels about her grandfather. Because she wasn’t there for her grandfather and he died where I guess she didn’t get to say goodbye to him or at least apologize for not seeing him more, she doesn’t want to make the same mistake twice, so that’s why she’s warning/yelling at Bakugo. However, there’s still miscommunication between the two and they just go at each other in the worst way. They both hit below the belt. It’s like they are mirroring each other’s fears and vulnerabilities.

By the time the chapter was over, I was kind of hoping Bakugo would go after reader, but I knew that wouldn’t happen because he’s stubborn and still in his feelings about his conversation with Toshinori and everything else, which is NOT reader’s fault btw. I think they both were looking to take the edge off somehow and this was the only way?? Not really the best way, but they are still “enemies” at this point since they don’t know each other all that well yet. I hope that they can find some common ground because whether those two realize it or not, they have more similarities than differences and that is what is going to help them move forward. It really hurt seeing them fight, I hate seeing people in pain and instead of reaching out to one another, they lashed out at one another.

I’m very excited to continue reading this story because of the many aspects it touches on from grief, guilt, abandonment, loss, finding where your heart truly lies, etc. I cannot wait to read more!

(Quick side note but, why does it seem like Bakugo was jealous of Kirishima getting reader’s attention? This is the second time I’ve noticed his slight/not slight jealousy or am I reaching with this one?)

OK FIRST OF ALL NONNIE. ARE YOU??? INSIDE OF MY BRAIN RIGHT NOW??? WHILE YOU'RE IN THERE CAN YOU PLEASE TELL MY BRAIN TO MAKE MORE SEROTONIN AND FOCUS MORE ON TASKS THROUGHOUT THE DAY?!?! HOLY HELL! Ok ok i am chill now hbscjdvsh. eVERYTHING WILL GO UNDER THE CUT BECAUSE THIS GOT LONG AND I COULDN'T SHUT UP. HDJFBBKFC

SO YES the entire point of having this chapter be in Katsu's pov, (not just to introduce the other sideline Joja plot) BUT to introduce his thought process. How he SAYS he hates her and he's gonna keep his distance, how she seems to turn up at every single place he ends up going that isn't his house, yet when he does run into her he notices shit, yeah? He notices she's slightly flirting with Denki in the library, notices that she's buying dog food, notices that when he went to her house he didn't see a dog so the dog must be new, and yes he does notice every single time Eiji brings her up ( I'll talk about that a little later with your question!)

Again, you're so incredibly right, he's interested in her from the moment he sees her, even when he first sees her. In the same sentence, in the same breath where he's insulting her, he notices something in her eyes and he notices how it looks "wrong" on her, despite not knowing her. Yes sweet Katsu is a tsundere, yes of course he's interested in her and yes of COURSE he's gonna act like he's not interested and that she is is his sworn enemy ykduscvjhcv. He's been hurt before and she is a clear reminder of that given she's come from the city. so yeah haha that will be explored more in the story haha.

Reader's struggle is still a bit complex...(as grief usually is). I don't wanna break it down too much so as not to give away plot stuff, but right now she's in sort of a passive state where she is just...letting...things happen to her. She's not really making decisions on her own, she's not dealing with anything, she's more focused on fitting in and being friendly and trying to pass off the new friendships as a "step forward" when really...that's not what it is.

And you can see her struggling with that with the sudden panic attack she has after speaking with Willy. But with that and the argument between her and Katsu you see a sliver of *her* a tiny portion of her that is like the true her. Then you realize .reader isn't always going to be a perfect entity who is faultless and friendly and bubbly and a victim to Katsu's meanness. Because, she's just proved that she ca be mean and an asshole too.

I had a few people say to me when reading this part "OH I was so mad at Katsuki but I was also mad at the reader for poking him too!" and I was like "YES GOOD GREAT!" because here you see that she is capable of making mistakes and lashing out and being just as prone to conflict and negative emotions as Katsu is. They BOTH are hurting, they BOTH are lashing out, and soon they BOTH will heal.

I also am just a real huge sucker for the "just gotta get it all out before it gets better" trope. As for it happening so sudden, that's also exactly what I wanted. When starting this, I knew I wanted slow burn yeah? And I knew it would start with enemies to lovers, but not in the same way where they stay enemies for long because spoiler alert they will not.

They will move from enemies to "someone who lives in the same town as me that I called a shithead once" to lovers bahahahah. Again I want this fic to focus on how much they are actually very aware of their own feelings and each others feelings. Katsu very very deep down has already sort of figured out she is something he needs to heal (will he admit that aloud?? no but his actions sure do) and reader in her own way will come to those terms as well.

And for your question! You have an astute eye my darling. Tiny spoiler alert but that will not be the ONLY time you see jealousy from Katsu over Eiji and reader's relationship. As I said, Katsu knows deep down reader is something he needs, and the jealousy thing is not at all a "I see you as a threat" jealousy.

It is 100% a "I wish I could be as good as you" jealousy. Katsu absolutely recognizes how easy it was for Eiji to get close to you and how you immediately took to him. It's the insecurity of feeling like he's not good enough due to A LOT of things but mostly because he holds Eiji in such high regard. Because Eiji is genuinely a good fucking guy and I think apart from Eiji's relationship with you, his insecurity about not being as good of a person as Eiji has always been a thing he has struggled with.

ANYWHOO THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME INDULGE IN TALKING ABOUT THIS FIC. I'VE THOUGHT ABOUT IT SO MUCH AND IT MAKES ME SO FUCKING HAPPY THAT YOU'RE GETTING SO DEEP INTO IT. PLEASE DIG WITH ME I FUCKING LOVE IT! THANK YOU FOR THIS COMMENT AND I HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT DAY!!!💖💖

[milkywaygg]

Baby Don’t Go (Chapter 7)

After he had gotten home late that night, Miguel went straight to bed, with Yolonda sleeping right beside him for once. He tossed and turned, grateful that Yolonda was a heavy sleeper, as his nausea and guilt wrangled him around like a chew toy. He knew he and his wife have had some miscommunications throughout their 20,000 years of marriage, but at the end of the day, Miguel didn’t have a doubt that he still loved Yolonda. Finally giving up on sleeping, Miguel sat upright, staring at the bulge in his stomach with a slight disgust.

Miguel couldn’t honestly say he blamed the baby for everything that had happened. After all, it was the result of shitty actions, not the cause, but the longer he stared, the more he wished it would just disappear out of existence. It felt as if an entire stranger was inside of him, not another one of his kin. Despite those resentful feelings brewing however, Miguel admitted to himself that he at least felt somewhat bad for the baby. Nora’s attitude when Miguel said he was pregnant seemed far more estranged that he had let on himself, so there was no possibly way that she loved it even more than he did. Oh, how he could kill her right about now.

A few hours passed, Miguel was merely able to get a blinks worth of sleep before Yolonda shuffled around on her side of the bed, opening and closing various drawers and closets to beautify herself with, throwing on her usually plum dress and curling her hair up after a nice, warm shower, before flying to the kitchen to begin breakfast. Woken up from all the noise, Miguel sat himself up right once more and took his phone off the nightstand, reading a missed message from Nora.

Hey ; ). Can’t stop thinking about you

Snarling as the offensive message, Miguel texted her back.

Yeah, I can’t either. Having your damn baby in my stomach’s really reinforced my memory of you. What do you want?

Look, I’m sorry about what I said last night. Linnie’s complaining last night made me realize that I need someone like you in my life, not him.

Fat chance Nora. We fucked up, and now we gotta own up to it. I’m not going to lie to you, I wish I never would have talked to you in that sleazy ass bar.

Wait, hold on. Are you actually crawling back to your wife? Don’t you think you’re in a bit too big of a shall we say…conflict right now to consider that?

Yes I know, and that’s why they need to know, Nora. I’m sorry, but I can’t go on knowing that I’ve betrayed her, and keeping it from her. Yolonda’s, and I’m sure Linnie is as well, a good person, despite her faults, and despite all the shit we had put ourselves through, and everything I told you about her, I think I still love her. I’m sorry your relationship is a dead-end, from how you talk about your husband, but I don’t want to keep doing this anymore.

But…why? God….you men are all the same. Why in the world would you pick someone that doesn’t give you the time of day over me? Am I not enough for you?

Oh really? And have you made any conscious effort to leave Linnie for me? Didn’t think so, so stop the BS. Look, we need to talk to them as soon as possible. They’re gonna find out anyways. Pregnancies aren’t something you can just hide, and it’s clear to me that you don’t give a rat’s ass about the people you hurt, so I don’t know why you’re so concerned anyways.

Well I mean it’d be nice if you’d show me the same appreciation as you do a woman that barely seems to know your existence. What about the night we sat outside my force and drank beer together, talking for hours on end?

Nora..I really don’t know how to explain this better to you. I thought I needed you…but I don’t. I have a wife that I’m still in love with, and anything that you believed happened between you and I meant nothing. The only thing we have between us is unprotected sex, and a mistake as the result. Now, if you wanna dump Linnie, that’s all fine and dandy, but my wife deserved to know to truth. I would have considered being friends with you at least Nora, but lately, it seems like all you care about is covering your own damn self, so once this whole baby bs is over, I want nothing more to do with you unless it’s an emergency. Got it? I’m sorry but you’re not the woman I love. You’re just the woman I thought I needed.

Miguel stared at the three dots on his phone for what seemed like hours, the thought bubble constantly appearing and disappearing, making Miguel somewhat nervous.

Fine…. If this’ll make you happy. How are we going to tell them, and have you decided on what to do with the fetus?

Yeah. I’m gonna set up an appointment to get screened for an abortion. See if I qualify and what not.

I mean, the fetus isn’t that big, right? Shouldn’t be a problem

Nah, but you know how those fancy, healthcare professionals are. How would you feel about dinner over at our place, probably around 7 or 8?

Depends. Where do you live.

Down Goldeen St., where that one city center is near downtown Fairy World?

Wait, so you live on one of those fancy ass houses? Well shiit, sign me up.

Good. I’m gonna tell Yolonda that I invited some people over to congratulate her on her new job, so if you can wait until we’re all sitting down to wait and talk to Linnie, that’d be great.

Fine Fine. Send me the address and we’ll be there around 7.

Good. Wear something nice if you wouldn’t mind.

Tired of reading Nora’s messages, Miguel finally decided to get up, and join his wife in the kitchen, smelling the fresh aroma of eggs and bacon, something he hadn’t smelt from her in a long time. With the events in mind, Miguel snuck his wand behind his back and waved it around, conjuring up a black dress around Yolonda’s size, with matching pearls and amethyst earrings, forcing the outfit to hide on their couch in the living room.  Upon noticing his arrival, Yolonda smiled.

“Good morning.”, she said, fetching some crystal plates for the food, “How’d you sleep?”

“Ehh..”, was all Miguel could mutter out. Yolonda frowned with concern.

“Still not feeling well? Did you ever get those pills? You were gone a while last night.”

“Nah, couldn’t find them. I decided to just go for a drive instead.”, Miguel shrugged, though Yolonda still didn’t seem convinced.

“Miguel…are you mad at me?”

“What? Of course not, sugar plum. Why would I be?”

“Well…I thought you’d be happy I’ve taken this job. You did say that you wanted me to act more responsibly, so I don’t understand why you’ve been acting so weird around me.”

“Yolonda, I’m not acting weird. My stomach’s just been killing me lately, that’s all, and it doesn’t really help that I’ve also been getting these non-stop headaches either.”, Miguel complained, as Yolonda handed him his breakfast. He ate is slowly, “Yolonda, I’m sorry. I am happy that you’ve gotten this job, a-and I really want to celebrate this accomplishment with you. I really do. It’s just…I hadn’t felt this bad in a long time.”

“Do I need to take you to the hospital? I mean, you’re really starting to worry me Miguel. This had gone on for a about a week now, and it doesn’t seem like you’re getting any better.”

“Uh…no. I don’t think so. I still need to try that medicine.”

“Are you sure Miguel, because if there’s something wrong with you, the doctors need to be able to catch it early. We can’t just keep putting this off.”

“I know sugar plum, it’s just….I know what I’m doing, ok? I’m a grown man. I can take care of myself. Just let me try the medicine, and we’ll go from there, ok? Trust m?”

“If you’re sure, but swear to god, you’re going to the hospital if this doesn’t clear up soon. I’m not playing around, Miguel.”

“Alright alright, yes boss.”, Miguel chuckled slightly, forcing Yolonda’s stern glare to melt slightly, “I do have a surprise for you though.”

“What’s that?”

“I’ve invited a couple of work friends of mine over for dinner, and I told them about you starting that position at the jewelry company. Figured this might be a way to grow your network, if you will.”

“Ok Miguel. It’s not THAT serious.”

“Hey, you never know. It’s a big world out there, Yolonda, and if you want to be successful, sometimes you gotta put yourself out there.”, Miguel shrugged, “That’s what my mama always told me before she passed her company to me. Oh, and by the way, I’ve got something in the living room for you.”

Unable to contain her excitement, Yolonda got up from her seat and flew straight towards the living room, screaming with delight as she saw the black dress, grabbing it and holding it up to her shoulders.

“Oh my gosh! It’s so pretty, and it’s a perfect fit! I love it Miguel! Thank you!”, she cheered, kissing him on the cheek, “I don’t deserve you.”

Miguel didn’t say anything, but rather let out a slightly nervous chuckle, one single thought haunting him as he waited for tonight.

I’m the one that doesn’t deserve you.

 The sun began to set and the street lights began to shine the roads as 7 o’clock approached, Miguel busying himself in the kitchen, preparing a lobster roast with 4 glasses of champaign placed elegantly on their dining room table. Miguel started to sweat nervously, as guilt began to overwhelm him once more. Looking down, the bulge in his stomach seemed to be slightly bigger than the last few days, but not quite obvious yet. Miguel pinched the side of his hips, hoping this was all a dream, only to wake up to the now strawberry sized baby bump.

“Hey baby.”, Yolonda’s voice purred as she strolled up behind him, kissing his neck, “How are the lobsters.”

“Uhhh…great. They’re almost ready.”, Miguel responded, turning around to look at Yolonda. Her earrings made her eyes sparkle while the black dress and pearls complimented her curvy, broad body almost perfectly, as if the dress was solely made for her. Her hair, though her bands and the tips kept its traditional swirl, was straightened out, and flowing towards her back, past her shoulders. “Wow…you look beautiful.”

“Well, aren’t you a dear?”, Yolonda giggled, “Maybe you should change too, before your little friends get here. I can deal with the lobsters.”

Miguel nodded as he flew towards their bedroom to change into one of his black business suits, while Yolonda busied herself setting the table and getting the lobsters placed on a plate. She finalized the table by placing the bottle of expensive, white champaign in the middle, before the doorbell rang, prompting her to open the door, revealing Nora and Linnie. Nora also had her hair straightened slightly, but hers seemed to be in more of a choppy, short style that Yolonda’s. Her dress was a non-form fitting. navy blue, and wore while pearls to compliment them. The male behind her, Linnie, seemed to not be quite as masculine as Miguel was, opting for a light green turtleneck sweater instead of a dress shirt and tie. Over it, he also wore a velvet, tan suit jacket, and black pants, paired with high-heeled dress boots that Yolonda found were somewhat adorable.

“Hey there! Come on in! We’ve got everything set up for you. I’m Yolonda, Miguel’s wife.”, she said, smiling and holding out her hand. Nora shoved her away while Linnie flew up, shaking Yolonda’s hand gently.

“H-hello there. I’m Linnie.”, he said softly, giving her a gentle smile, “I-I’m sorry about her. She’s been acting really odd these last couple of days.”

“Oh really? So’s my husband.”, Yolonda said, “He’s been having some stomach troubles…Well anyways, why don’t you make yourself comfortable? We’ve got dinner just about ready.”

Leaving the bedroom, Miguel felt his heart drop as he noticed Linnie and Nora taking their seats, Nora casting a knowing glare in his direction. Forcing himself from gulping, Miguel took a seat across Linnie, who was busy crossing his legs gently. Yolonda began pouring champaign into everyone’s cups before being gently stopped by Linnie.

“Oh uhm…I-I’m really sorry, but would it be a bother if I had some water instead please? I-I’m not really much of a drinker.”, he said, nervously, while Nora nudged him.

“God Linnie, have some manners. You drink whatever they give you.”

“Oh no, it’s not a problem. Uhm, we’ve got some water bottles in the fridge, sweetheart.”, Yolonda smiled at Linnie, who smiled back gently as he got up and walked towards the fridge, his heels clicking against the tile floor. “Actually, maybe you should have some water as well, dear. Might help with your stomach.”

Miguel simply nodded as Linnie passed him a bottle, muttering a thank you as Yolonda began to pass out the lobsters. As the four ate, Yolonda seemed to sense a sort of tense aura coming from the other fairies. Linnie was constantly squirming, either crossing his legs or trying to close them, his heels making a constant clicking noise, while Nora and Miguel seemed awfully interested in each other, exchanged glances whenever they were chewing simultaneously. Desperate to break the ice, Yolonda cleared her throat.

“So…how long have you guys worked with Miguel?”

“Worked? Oh no dear..”, Linnie said gently, unknowing of what’s going on, “I don’t work with him. I work at a nursery. I-I think I recognized him though from the gynocologist’s. I accidentally ran into him and he dropped his-“

“Papers! Yeah, you made me drop my prescription papers! Nice one.”, Miguel interrupted, before Linnie could rat him out. Linnie shrunk in his seat while Nora rolled her eyes.

“We’ve known him for about several years now, remember Linnie? He would come take out trash out for us?”

“Wait hold on.”, Yolonda said, “I thought you two and Miguel worked together? He said you guys were work buddies.”

“I mean uh…”, Nora stuttered, “I mean, technically we are…uh….I’m just more of an office person while Miguel would do the garbage work.”

“Really? Last time I checked, Miguel rarely did garbage truck work.”, Yolonda said, glancing slightly at her husband, “How long have you guys been working together.”

“Uh…about 7 years now.”

“Wait…Nora honey, we’ve only moved here about 4 years ago..”, Linnie squeaked, before Nora slammed her foot on his, making his jump.

“Ok, what the hell is going on? Why is everyone acting so weird?”, Yolonda asked suddenly, slamming her hands slightly on the table, starling everyone. Linnie looked around confused, while Nora and Miguel paled, both unsure of what to say. Yolonda glared at Miguel, “I thought you said these were work buddies?”

“They are!”

“So why the fuck are you all telling me different stories, huh? How is it that one of your little work buddies works in a nursery instead of part of your garbage company huh? What am I supposed to believe? And why have you two been staring at each other the entire night? Is there something you’d like to tell me?”

Nora and Miguel both continued to stare at each other, both of them praying that the other would spit it out. But the longer they waited, the more impatient Yolonda got, tapping her foot and crossing her arms. Linnie squirmed a bit more as he tried to look away nervously, before finally, Miguel finally cracked.

“I’m pregnant….and…..it’s not yours.”

[wwounu]

“Mingyu… Mingyu where are you…”

The phone in your hand, you try calling him again only to end the call because it wouldn’t be any use, checking the 25 minutes you had remaining. You needed to find Mingyu quickly.

So best believe when you ran into the campus garden, although it being a lengthy walk to get there, you were more than relieved to find Mingyu with his back facing you, kneeled on the rocky floor. It almost looked like a painting of bittersweetness.

“Mingyu,” you break, scared at his state.

“Go away.” Mingyu demands. “Go away and leave me alone.”

“I’m not going to do that, I’m not going to go away.”

“Stop saying that — I want — I you to go.”

You’re stepping closer, slowly but surely, ignoring all of Mingyu’s warnings.

“Mingyu…” You call out gently.

“No, stop it,” almost broken, he says, “I don’t need you — or anyone-“

But when your fingers touch his shoulder and he turns around, you can’t help but break at the tears streaming down the drummer’s face as he gasps for air, hands gripped onto the fabric of his pants.

You fall and manoeuvre your way to him so that he can hide his face in your shoulder before sobbing even more. It’ll leave a wet patch, but the feeling of Mingyu with you was worth it. It was the only way to keep you sane; nothing else.

You shush him through petting his hair, almost cradling him as he hiccups between cries.

“I’m scared. I’m so scared,”

Mingyu manages to mumble out like a mantra, the words sticking to your mind. What went wrong?

“It’s okay now, I’m here.” You assure him. You want to play it safe but it was important to know what was wrong. Mingyu, in your many years of watching his narcissistic ways, confident smile and stupid pride, watching his walls break down felt unsettling. “What’s going on Mingyu?”

“I’m scared.” He can only repeat the chosen words, making it harder to understand him. You decide to pry him open a little more, hoping he can escalate.

“Of me?”

You feel a shift on your shoulder — he’s responding — he partially nods, but shakes his head after a pause.

“The audience?”

A hesitated shake.

“… Performing?”

And Mingyu takes a while to respond. In fact, he doesn’t respond at all, meaning you had to say something to ease him. But before you do, his croaky, raw voice beats you to it.

“That day — when I messed up in front of my entire high school — I didn’t trip. Jun pushed me.” Mingyu holds onto you a bit tighter and you feel his hands shake violently, holding onto you like he was your last lifeline. “The whole school laughed — until the end of that year, the band wanted me dead for something I didn’t mean to do — Junhui had the nerve to laugh to my face when he didn’t know what he did. I remember — I remember going home that day — and my family was so disappointed in me,” laughs Mingyu in pity, “their son ran away after being an embarrassment, I ruined a day for the whole school and became the laughing stock, and I had to keep it in for hours until I got home and never left my room — all I wanted was for someone to tell me it’s okay, it’s not my fault. It’s not my fault Y/N, it’s not my fault, I didn’t mean to-” He repeats in a mantra, breaking down into another set of sobs.

He continues with slight ease despite the fumbling over words.

“And when I entered the office the next day to apologise for my actions, I… I suddenly couldn’t do it. Everything went tense and my throat went dry, it was either that I breathed too much or didn’t breathe at all. I couldn’t do something as simple as apologise. Then — fuck — and… And ever since then — I couldn’t go on a stage. Full or empty. It makes me so anxious seeing the stage lights and thinking back to that time, paranoid that someone might do that to me again and I hate it,”

A few more hot tears reach your shoulder before he adds on.

“So what did I do? I learned to live with that fucking demon in my head. I couldn’t mope about it so — so I fought back. I kept fighting back with anyone who dared to taunt me over that concert. Eventually — it worked. Everyone was convinced over this new Mingyu — fake Mingyu. As for Junhui — I hated him the most — I hated him for acting so fine when I carried his consequence,” Mingyu repeats that bitter laughs, “stupid right? Always acting like a drama queen because I don’t want to back down, because I don’t want to fall vulnerable over anyone and everyone — and now — and now I hate him even more.”

“Why?” You slip out under a whisper.

“Because-“ Mingyu lets go of you, head still bowed as his fingers move to grip his hair, starting to cry in frustration. He was tired. He was hurt. He was scared.

He was in love.

“Because I think I’m in love you!”

“Huh?” Caught off guard, a tug in your heart.

He picks up the pace in speaking, “And it isn’t easy to cope with at all — I’m an asshole and you forgive me every time, when you said you wanted to forget about the kiss my heart fucking hurt because I fell in too deep by then, when I see you I want to stay with you, when you speak I suddenly get happy and your smile makes my day — fuck, what am I saying?”

“Mingyu…”

“And — and I get so nervous around you because I’m scared to mess up but I know I can’t fix things because I’ve caused you so much pain from be being nothing but a arrogant jerk to you — when you’re with Jun, I can’t help but hate it — you’re so different with him and it’s like I’m helping the person I hate the most, fuck, I am helping the person I hate the most! And he’s so much more of a man than I am because he confessed to you first — can I do anything right?”

“Mingyu.”

Mingyu keeps on rambling, stuttering and chocking on his words. You could tell the drummer had a lot to say, but you had to get the male’s attention first because you didn’t have a lot of time left. Although the volume of your voice kept increasing, it didn’t stop Mingyu. Mingyu overlapped with incoherent words and curses.

“Mingyu!”

You force, having enough at this point. He whimpers, lifting up his head for the moonlight to shine on him, beautiful just as heart-wrenching at the same time.

“Listen…” Although your eyes wanted to look at the stones, you needed to keep your focus on Mingyu, “Jun never confessed to me…”

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” painfully smiles Mingyu through the tears, “he was calling you all sort of things. Things that I can’t bring myself to say…”

He heard us? Is this what triggered it? You process, shocked at how miserable Mingyu must’ve felt.

“Mingyu. Jun doesn’t like me — he never would — he... He likes someone else.”

“Someone... Else?” Croaks Mingyu, tilting his head.

“Yeah. It’s complicated.”

This time, you gaze at Mingyu’s wet eyes, taking in the appearance. This was a first for you, but to him, this was one out of a million.

“Oh…” Mingyu blinks. “Oh,” he repeats, louder once in realisation.

“Yeah,” you nod, “but besides that… This is some serious stage fright and anxiousness in you Mingyu, why did you keep it in for so long?”

Mingyu shrugs. “I thought I would be ok. Ends up, it totally went a different direction. I don’t like people seeing me like this, why would I show this side of me when I can show another?”

“It’s unhealthy Mingyu… You can’t show it to everyone, but to no one? That won’t do. Someone needs to be there for you.”

“Then who?”

“I’ll be there for you.”

Mingyu’s features soften, just like a child about to cry over a scratch on the knee, eyes formulating tears.

“Y/N, I…”

“We’ll talk about this later,” you cut, hoping Mingyu would understand why, “we have a performance in seven minutes. Y’know, Jun was the one who told me you were gone, he seemed pretty panicked about it.” You nudge him, smiling slightly. Wiping the stray tear from Mingyu’s cheek, you say, “My, my… You look so ugly Kim Mingyu, what happened to the narcissist I used to know?”

Mingyu breaks out into a blissful giggle, the type that would make you want to keep Mingyu forever.

Theres a few moments of silence as you wipe Mingyu’s stained tears off his face, running a thumb across his cheek. “There you go. All handsome now.”

Mingyu feels his cheeks and ears heat up. His eyes speak something else, ones with adoration behind them. “Uh, yeah,” the drummer says with a stutter, “we should go.”

Before Mingyu stands, you take a hold of his sleeve and look at him straight in the eye so neither of you could break eye contact.

“Wait — Did you just say you… Like me?”

Although the younger semi-goes into panic mode, he interrupts himself with a rather rough, calmed huff and shuts his eyes, accepting the rejection that’s bound to come.

Shyly, he utters, “Yes?”

But instead, he’s met with a light giggle, followed by the pressure of soft lips on his cheek before your voice meets his ear.

“Sweet, I like you too.”

With new found confidence, you reach for Mingyu’s hand, running back to the concert hall where you and him might possibly get in trouble for cueing late. It was anything but a worry, as you and Mingyu find a grin taking shape on your faces, interlacing each other’s fingers when you laugh.

You didn’t look the neatest, neither didn’t Mingyu, but that was the audience’s question to speculate why you were like that, hoping that they would wonder what happened to them? or why are their clothes damaged? not knowing a story of love, miscommunication, and a fish inside a drum that led to this moment.

No one knew because it was yours and Mingyu’s story, a story that can be translated into words as well as musical notes and harmonies, full of layers and a clash of instruments.

Mingyu stares at the bright light, feeling tense by the grasp of his hand. You look at him, bringing him to his senses by the light squeeze. “Everything alright?”

Mingyu holds in a breath, jaw clenching, before he nods. He was going to do this. It’s a big step. “Everything’s-“

“Focus on me.”

He doesn’t realise how tense he is just until he crosses his eyes on you, all worries washed away and your presence shining through. You can see him physically relax in his eyes. 

You send a smile, a soft one, “Better?” It’s quiet but to Mingyu it’s louder that he could ever hear.

“Very,” he slips a stammer, walking on that empty, polished stage with you.

Remedies don’t cure in one night, but wherever you would be, as long as it was with Mingyu, he’s pretty sure he would be fine.

OPPOSITES ATTRACT PART SIXTEEN — Drummer!Mingyu x Violinist!Reader

is it safe to say theyre official? and i hope you understand mingyus side now

one • two • three • four • five • six • seven • eight • eight ½ • nine • ten • ten ½ • eleven • eleven ½ • twelve • thirteen • thirteen ½ • fourteen • fifteen • sixteen • sixteen ½

masterlist

[girlsinthestars]

I can't decide if I'll let you save my life or if I'll drown

Pairing: Enjolras/Grantaire

Word count: 2689

Warnings: None, it’s slightly angsty to begin with, but ends happily.

Read on AO3

Usually Enjolras’ taunts had no effect on Grantaire, usually he was able to laugh them off because he knew they were coming. But today was different. Today he was out of it, today he had received a letter informing him of his eviction, telling him to be out come evening, today he had lost his home and was, therefore, homeless, with all of his belongings stuffed into his backpack. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been heading towards this but he just never thought he’d hit this kind of rock bottom. So he didn’t bother arguing any of Enjolras’ points, he didn’t bother throwing out sarcastic comments, he didn’t bother being anything other than a shadow in the corner. He figured no one would notice but it was just his luck that Enjolras did, and of course Enjolras decided to call him out on it.

“What has gotten into you Grantaire? You haven’t said a word all afternoon.”

“I haven’t had anything to say, I thought you’d be pleased.”

“Of course I’m pleased, it’s just unlike you is all.” There was an odd tone of concern in Enjolras’ voice that was entirely out of place, of course Grantaire had heard it directed at others but never him.

“Well maybe I’ve given up.”

“What on earth does that mean?”

“Maybe I just don’t care anymore, about the cause, about your speeches, about proving you wrong, I mean does it even matter?”

The room fell silent, as if everyone was holding their breath to see Enjolras’ reaction.

Enjolras glared at him. “If that is the case, perhaps you should leave. At least when you were pointing out my errors you were serving a purpose, however frustrating.”

Grantaire could only nod in response, because Enjolras was right, as always, he barely serves a purpose here. A stiff silence had settled over the room, Enjolras glaring at Grantaire who could only stare at the floor.

“Well?” Enjolras demanded, seemingly frustrated with the silence, “if you’re going to leave then leave. You’re wasting all of our time, you’re wasting our space, you’re wasting our resources, how many drinks have you had tonight?”

“Enjolras!” Combeferre hissed.

A tremor passed through Grantaire as he let those words sink in. True as it was, he never thought Enjolras would have the guts to tell him to stop wasting their time, space and resources. He nodded slightly then stood shakily.

“I’ll be going then.” Then, without even grabbing his coat he stumbled out the door into the snow.

It was cold outside, and quiet. And, god, so empty. Grantaire walked blindly in, hopefully, the direction of a motel of some description, somewhere warm at least. God, why hadn’t he fought Enjolras, why had he just got up and left? And since when had Enjolras started getting to him? He knew he was a waste of space, god forbid someone should let him forget it, so why had Enjolras saying it hurt so much? Was he really so delusional that he thought Enjolras returned his feelings on any level at all?

He had only gone a mile or so when he realised all his money was in the bag he had left in the Musain. Going back was not an option. There was no way he could face them right now. He sighed and dropped onto a bench, figuring this would be his life from now on, he curled up and made himself as warm as he could before closing his eyes and begging for sleep.

That was where Eponine found him an hour later.

“Jesus Christ R, what are you doing, it’s freezing out here you left your bag, and more importantly your coat!”

“‘Ponine? What are you doing here?” Grantaire asked blearily.

“Looking for you, you idiot! I went to your apartment after the meeting to make sure you were okay but you weren’t there.”

“Oh yeah,” He said, sitting up and brushing the snow off his sleeve, realising, as he came into consciousness, that his limbs had gone numb with cold in the time he’d been asleep, “got kicked out.”

“So you decided you’d sleep on a fucking bench?!”

“Didn’t wanna be a burden to anyone.”

“Is this about what Enjolras said? Because you know he didn’t mean it R, he was frustrated and hurt.”

“He was hurt?” Grantaire snorted, “What did he have to be hurt about?”

“By god you’re oblivious,” Eponine said, sitting down next to him and taking one of his hands, gently massaging feeling and warmth back into it, “he cares about you, he cares about your opinion. He was hurt because you said you didn’t care about him anymore.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No, you said you didn’t care about the cause or his speeches, which is even worse because those are everything to him R, he spends all his time planning and thinking about them.”

Grantaire was silent.

“I think there’s a communication issue happening here and I think you two need to spend some quality time together so-”

“No.” Grantaire interrupted, “whatever you’re about to say, no.”

“-So, I’m volunteering his apartment as the place you stay until you find a new apartment.”

“No.”

“R you have to.”

“He wouldn’t agree.”

“Except he already has.” Eponine said, gleefully waving her phone at him.

“What did you tell him?”

“That I found you freezing to death on a bench and you need a place to stay.”

“And I can’t stay with you because…”

“I don’t have any space, Cosette and Marius moved in.”

“Ugh, I don’t want to live with you three anyway.”

“I’ll have you know, we are very cute.”

Grantaire sighed and smiled slightly. “I’m glad you’re happy.”

“Now it’s your turn.” She replied, smiling back.

Eponine escorted Grantaire to Enjolras’, saying she didn’t want him to chicken out and end up on another bench. Enjolras was a wreck when he opened the door. Grantaire felt almost uncomfortable seeing the usually so well put together leader so dishevelled.

“Fuck, R, I was so worried about you.”

Grantaire let out a strained laugh. “The mighty Apollo need not worry for any mere mortal.”

“This isn’t a joke.” Enjolras tugged Grantaire inside and gave a slight nod to Eponine, who smiled and gave Grantaire a hug, making him promise to be good before she left.

Enjolras turned to Grantaire. “I’m truly sorry Grantaire, what I said was horrible and wrong, you aren’t- you have never been a waste of anything and you don’t deserve that kind of treatment.” Enjolras said, staring so intensely into Grantaire’s eyes he felt like Enjolras was looking right into his soul.

“Don’t worry,” Grantaire said, with an awkward cough, avoiding Enjolras’ eyes and pushing past him to sit on the couch, “it shouldn’t have gotten to me, it doesn’t usually, I’d just had a rough day.”

“That’s not an excuse!” Enjolras said, following him into the apartment. “You should be allowed to have bad days, you can’t be expected to be the unshakable cynic all the time… or ever.”

“It’s not your fault.” Grantaire said, in a tone that made it clear that the matter was now closed for discussion. So Enjolras just nodded and walked into the kitchen and began preparing tea. It gave Grantaire time to think about what Eponine had said, had Enjolras really been upset by what he had said? It was uncharacteristic for him, but really, Grantaire had never been the best judge of Enjolras’ emotions and it was entirely possible he’d missed a hurt tone, a hesitation, or a dropped gaze in his own upset.

“I need to apologise too.” He said, after a while, “I don’t know how much my opinion means to you, but Eponine tells me it’s a lot, and I would hate for you to think that I had really given up on you or the things you care about.”

Enjolras handed him his tea and sat on the couch beside him. “Of course your opinion matters to me, you matter to me.” He started, staring into his tea, avoiding Grantaire’s gaze. “And I was… hurt, but that is no excuse for what I said to you.”

Grantaire looked up, searching Enjolras’ expression for a sign that he was lying, that this was just a joke, but he found nothing but honesty.

“I didn't… I never… I'm sorry, it didn't even occur to me it would matter to you whether I cared or not.” Grantaire said slowly, still processing.

Enjolras looked up, smiling a little. “It seems there have been some miscommunications between us.”

“So it seems.” Grantaire replied, smiling too. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen this expression on Enjolras, all soft and open. It made his heart flutter in a different way to its usual ‘holy shit Enjolras is so hot’ way, normally they were fighting, so naturally he had always imagined that if somehow he and Enjolras ended up in a relationship it would be more of a hate sex thing. But now, with Enjolras looking up at him with a soft smile, wearing loose pyjamas and holding tea, suddenly all these domestic images pop into his head. He sighed and put down his empty tea cup. “It's getting late, I don't want to keep you up, I'm sure you have a class tomorrow morning.”

“Oh.” Enjolras sat up, the softness from his expression fading, whatever barriers he normally had were back in place as he collected their mugs and disappeared into the kitchen. “So uh, I don't have a spare bedroom as such but there's a blow up mattress in the closet.” He walked back out of the kitchen and paused in front of Grantaire.

“Yeah- uh that's fine, I'm in no position to be fussy.” Grantaire stood up as well, following Enjolras to the closet where he pulled out the most dusty blow up mattress Grantaire had ever seen.

“...I don't have visitors often.” Enjolras offered as explanation. “I don't think I can make you sleep on this…”

Grantaire looked up, shocked. “No I- it's fine, seriously I've slept on worse, I would honestly be perfectly happy with the couch.”

“No, you're my guest, look my bed is a queen bed, we could both fit if that's alright with you, and we can go buy a better mattress tomorrow.”

At this point Grantaire literally felt himself ascend to the astral plane, where he stared god in the eyes and swore at them for letting this happen. How on earth was he supposed to sleep in the same bed as Enjolras without spontaneously combusting? And yes, that was an over exaggeration but he genuinely had no idea how they were supposed to live together until he found a new place let alone sleep in the same bed, even if just for a night. They argued enough already without being around each other all day.

Somehow Grantaire managed to change in the clothes he used as pyjamas, brush his teeth, and climb into Enjolras’ bed without panicking and/or annoying Enjolras. And lying stiffly as far over on the bed as possible he could not have regretted any decision more in his life. There was no way in hell he was getting any sleep.

Grantaire woke up to a weight on his chest. He tried to shift it but it just wound it's limbs around him and clung to him. He opened his eyes to a facefull of blond hair, which meant the weight clinging to him was Enjolras. Fuck. There was no way for him to get out without waking Enjolras up.

“Enj?” Enjolras shifted a little but made no move to wake up.

Grantaire sighed, he was stuck until Enjolras woke up, and it was a weekend and Enjolras was not a morning person, so he was gonna be here for a good while. Enjolras’ legs were twisted between his own, one of his arms was stretched above his head, resting his hand on the pillow next to Grantaire’s face, while the other was looped around Grantaire’s arm and clutching the back of his shirt, and his head was resting on Grantaire’s chest. It was like something directly out of Grantaire’s dreams but Enjolras must have just latched onto him while he was asleep, there was no meaning behind it and he really needed to not read into it. And yet…

“Mmmm.” Enjolras shifted again, his hand moving into Grantaire’s hair.

“Enj?” Grantaire tried again.

“Mmm?” Enjolras’ voice was muffled in Grantaire's shirt.

“Morning.” He said softly.

“R?” Enjolras said, lifting his head and looking up at Grantaire. Grantaire's insides melted at the soft expression on Enjolras’ face, but then his eyes cleared and a combination of embarrassment and shock flooded his face.

“Fuck I'm sorry, this is so embarrassing, I'm weirdly clingy in my sleep, I'm so sorry.” Enjolras rambled, extracting himself from Grantaire.

“Hey, no, it's ok! It's fine, I uh- I don't mind.” Grantaire said, grabbing Enjolras’ wrist before he could actually get out of bed.

“Do you want some coffee?” Enjolras said, looking at anything but Grantaire.

Grantaire watched him for a minute, sitting up. “Can I ask you something first?”

“Yeah, sure.” Enjolras replied, looking nervous.

“Did that mean something?”

Enjolras shifted awkwardly, sighing and seemingly steeling himself. “Well, as established last night there have been some miscommunications between us and I believe one of them is the fact that I do in fact care deeply for you, which, I have been informed, you are not aware of.”

Grantaire stared at him, starting to smile. “I like you too.”

Enjolras nodded, finally moving back across the bed and looking Grantaire in the eye. “Did you… did you really think I didn't care?”

Grantaire’s gaze dropped to his lap. “I didn't- I just- we fight a lot, ok? I didn't realise you considered me anything other than your sparring partner.”

Enjolras reached over and threaded his fingers through Grantaire's. “Hey, I'm sorry.”

“You don't-”

“No I do, R I'm sorry, I'm sorry I spent our entire friendship so far acting like you meant nothing to me. Because that could not be further from the truth.”

Grantaire finally looked up at him, smiling a little. “I'm sorry I always fight with you, I don't know why I always end up insulting you.”

“You know, combined we probably have the communication skills of a below average person.” Enjolras said, laughing and dropping his head on Grantaire’s shoulder.

“We got to this point though didn't we?”

Enjolras smiled up at him. “Yeah we did.”

“Enj, can I kiss you?”

Enjolras blushed and nodded slightly. “Yeah, of course, please.”

Grantaire turned and cupped Enjolras’ face, kissing him gently. His lips were soft, Grantaire mused, moving one of his hands into Enjolras’ hair, god was everything about this man soft?

Enjolras’ hands had slipped under Grantaire’s shirt and he was tracing patterns on Grantaire’s hips, and Grantaire honest to god felt his insides melt. Then Enjolras gently pushed him down until he was lying with Enjolras on his chest again, before he pulled back and buried his face in Grantaire's chest.

“You wanna go back to sleep?”

“Mmmhm.” Enjolras mumbled. “You're comfortable… and you smell nice.”

Grantaire laughed and wrapped his arms around Enjolras. “Well let me know when you want coffee.”

Enjolras nodded, clearly already half asleep. Grantaire smiled down at him, threading his fingers into the blond hair. So what if it took them 6 years to get here, they did it and it was worth all the fighting and pining, if only for this moment. If only so that he got to see Enjolras, their godlike leader, fast asleep on his chest, snoring lightly and wearing baggy, yet actual, button up PJs. They were far from perfect, they both sucked at communicating, and just because they were… ok they actually hadn't discussed it but whatever they were, it didn't mean they would stop fighting Grantaire knew that. But he also knew Enjolras liked him, Enjolras cared about his opinion, cared for him, and Enjolras knew he felt the same about him and he knew that would change everything.

[mortaljin]

Meadows Part Four

Word Count: 8.8k Warnings: Curse words Genre: All the damned angst. Fairy!Au Pairing: Hoseok x female reader.

Summary: Your fairy prince has continuously failed to make an appearance, and as the days and weeks drag on, you uncover painful truths bit by bit. Why does Jimin leave you a cryptic note in a notch in his tree? Why is the queen so damn nice despite your growing suspicions? And why the hell is the mysterious old lady trying to barter with you for the ring that Hoseok made you?

A/N: *Embarrassingly shoves part four your way* I don’t want to hear it, I KNOW OKAY, I CAN’T STOP WRITING. To save of us all the trouble I’m throwing a random number, the number six to be exact, so that we can expect that many chapters for this fanfic that I cannot, surprisingly, stop writing about. Don’t forget to follow me so you don’t miss out on updates! Please enjoy, and don’t forget to tell me what you think xx

 Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Epilogue 

Masterlist

A million thoughts ran through your mind as you sat in solitude in front of the empty pot you had gotten for Hoseok’s flower last year. Your bloodshot eyes trailed over the “every flower is a soul blossoming in nature” quote; the gold for the words had long begun to fade, only to leave behind white splotches that allowed you to still read it. Well, this is ironic, you rolled your eyes as you contemplated the blossoming soul and how there was an extreme lack of it in the royal gardens. Hoseok was now six hours late on his reincarnation and your heart was filled with not only disappointment but worry as well. You weren’t sure if there had been miscommunication in regard to when he was supposed to arrive, or if something had gone terribly wrong. It was hard not to let your mind wander towards destructive thoughts of blaming yourself; finding yourself at fault for every misfortune thrown at you was a trait you developed while with Jackson. With Hoseok, however, you had slowly learned how to appropriately place blame and grow from it, not be destroyed by it. As a few stray clouds crossed over the moon, shrouding the garden in the darkness, you couldn’t help but find a reason to put this on yourself. What if he won’t reincarnate because I messed with his cycle? What if being planted in a human pot is what is hindering his reincarnation? You had been a teary-eyed mess the entire evening but as you flung words of hatred at yourself, the ache in your heart only grew larger. The what-ifs that ran through your mind only aided in driving you crazy, and you decided that it would be best to sleep. Standing and straightening your dress, you begrudgingly made your way out of the garden. Giving one last forlorn look towards the center of the area, you let one final teardrop from your eyes before making your way to your treehouse in defeat.

March 21st

“Where. Is. Prince. Hoseok!” You stormed through the throne room the next morning after a sleepless night filled with loneliness and hurt. The throne room, however, was devoid of fairies. What a coincidence, you thought as you wandered around the royal premises searching for anyone. Hard as you tried, you couldn’t keep a level head when you finally came across a fairy servant.

“You. Where is the king?” After seeing his eyes widen visibly, you took a deep breath to compose yourself.

“The king is gone, his cycle just ended.” The nervous servant barely made out his reply without stuttering over his words; you threw your hands up in defeat and felt your frustration growing.

“Of course, he did. Take me to the queen then, please?” The fairy breathed a sigh of relief at the softening of your voice before he gave his head meek nod.

“Your Majesty!” Your shrill voice shrieked through the royal corridors as you dashed through the leaves being used as doors. Thankfully, the queen was available, but you were surprised to find her calmly tending to some flowers on her windowsill. Your eyes frantically scanned the pots in hopes of seeing your beloved’s flower, but you were met with disappointment when you realized they were filled with ordinary tulips.

“Y/N?” The queen was startled by your sudden appearance and made quick work of putting away whatever it was that she had been doing. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was filled with genuine concern, but the stoic expression on her face almost made you believe otherwise.

“I’m sorry to disturb you,” you curtsied gracefully with your apology before continuing, “It’s Hobi! He never reincarnated yesterday like he was supposed to!” Your voice was dripping with worry and your eyes were begging the queen for answers.

“Oh, my,” the queen gave you a sympathetic smile before pulling you into a gentle embrace. “Do not worry dear, this wouldn’t be the first time he was stubborn to come back. Delayed reincarnations happen sometimes, it’s nothing to be upset over.” You slowly nodded your head, as if you understood what she was saying. “Be patient, Y/N, I have no doubt that Prince Hoseok is just taking his time.”

Despite the reassuring tone to her voice, her correction of your lack of formalities and the way she ushered you out of the room before you could reply, made you feel as though there was slight malice in her words. In the midst of being rushed out the ‘door,’ a blur of red passed through your peripheral and you vaguely made out the shape of Hoseok’s seedbox. After pondering your next plan of action, you decided it was no use to wallow in self-pity at the turn of events; you would just have to wait a little longer for your missing love. You began to make your trek into the human city, but not before giving a final glance at Hoseok, Jimin, and Namjoon’s flowerless pots in the fairy gardens.

April 1st

They say that patience is a virtue, and you’ll be damned if you weren’t the most virtuous person in the village. It has been almost two weeks and Hoseok has yet to make an appearance. Currently, you were silently cursing your MIA fairy while simultaneously waiting for Namjoon’s reincarnation. If he even has one, you huffed at the thought and planted yourself in a seated position in front of their pots. You eyed your watch carefully and groaned loudly as the hands ticked past the time that was to announce the yellow fairy’s return.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You cried out in frustration when even your friend decided not to return to the world.

You leaned back from your sitting position until you were lying flat on the ground, legs and arms sprawled out in defeat. You closed your eyes and tried to calm yourself with steady breaths. The slightest pressure of weight was felt on your stomach, causing you to cautiously open your eyes. The sight of his wings before your eyes almost made your heart leap out of your chest, but instead, you pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming. This caused a tiny chuckle to come from the fairy’s mouth. Perched on your stomach was the miniature version of your fairy friend, sized about the same as Hoseok was the first time you met him. Namjoon flew from your stomach and grabbed your hand in an attempt to sit you upright. With tears in your eyes, you sat up and gently held him to your chest.

“Joonie,” you wiped your cheeks dry with your free hand as you smiled brightly at the fairy now sat in the palm of your other. “You have no idea how much I missed you!”

“I’m glad someone did!” His dimples flashed cheerfully across his cheeks as he hugged your fingers. “I do suppose Jimin is gone for the time being, then?” You silently nodded your head, your breath catching in your throat. “Well, where’s our prince? I bet he’s almost full size by now!” Namjoon’s smile quickly fell from his face as your cheeks became soaked with tears again; a grim shake of your head was the only reply you could manage to give him.

“What do you mean he never reincarnated!” After mustering up the strength to sprinkle a dose of fairy dust on you, you were finally able to calm down enough to tell him what had, or hadn’t rather, transpired yesterday. If Namjoon had been full size, his voice would have boomed throughout the garden. Instead, it was a piercing, high pitched cry that found its ways to your ears.

“I mean what I said, he never showed up on the equinox.” You rubbed your temples in frustration as you paced around. You dug the toes of your shoes into the ground before kicking up some rocks with a grunt.

“Are you sure you just haven’t talked to him?”

“I’m sure. I was really worried, but when the queen told me that this happens sometimes I felt-” You had answered with a grim shake of your head, but Namjoon interrupted you by flying an inch from your face.

“What do you mean the queen said this happens sometimes?” The look on his eyes was filled with frustration, suspicion coming through narrowed eyes.

“She said that this wasn’t the first time Hoseok has been late on his reincarnation.” You shrugged your shoulders to show that you didn’t fully understand it but that you had accepted it.

“Y/N. We have a problem.” You tilted your head and confusion washed over your face as well. “Fairies aren’t “late” to reincarnate.“

"Wait, what?”

“I don’t know why the queen would tell you that, but no. Fairies don’t ever just not reincarnate. Some like me have an odd cycle, yes, but we always reincarnate when we’re meant to. He should’ve shown up seconds after Jimin left!” It was Namjoon’s turn to let out a grunt of anger.

“What is going on Joonie?” The gears in your mind were working in overdrive, yet you couldn’t wrap your mind around the situation. Jimin, and now Namjoon, told you that Hoseok should’ve been here already, but the queen told you that this is normal.

“I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know why he’s not here. As long as his seed got planted,” Namjoon gestured his tiny arms towards Hoseok’s flower pot, “then he should’ve sprung up on the spring equinox.” You glanced in the direction of the pot and your eyes widened in horror as you rushed to test the theory that had just found its way into your mind. “Y/N, what are you-” but you cut him off.

“Namjoon, I have to see.”

In your kneeling position in front of the pot, you carefully started scooping out dirt. Once a small pile had begun to form on the ground, you stood up with the pot upside down in your hands. Vigorously shaking the pot up and down, clumps of dirt began to rain down onto the grass. Once empty, you glanced into the pot only to find no seed at the bottom. You started to carelessly toss the pot to the side, but thought better of it and set it gently down. Completely disregarding your lack of gloves, you pawed through the dirt with only a tiny piece of hope in your heart. Namjoon was still floating in silence behind you, and when you felt begrudgingly satisfied that your theory was correct, you turned to him with brows furrowed and anger swelling inside you.

“The seed. It was never planted.”

In an instant the two of you had ran out of the garden, hurriedly deciding what it was that the two of you needed to do. It wasn’t long before you had mentioned in passing that you thought you had seen Hoseok’s seed box in the queen’s quarters; it also wasn’t long before you found yourself sneaking through the royal corridors to investigate your newest theory. Glancing at Namjoon one final time, you took in a deep breath before you shuffled through the leaves to her room. Sitting at the vanity was the queen, brushing a comb made from finely shaved sticks through her long locks. You forced yourself not to look annoyed by her presence and instead curtsied to her politely once more.

“Ah, Y/N. I swear your curtsies are getting more beautiful every day.” She rose from her seat with barely a sound, letting her feet lift off the ground ever so slightly. On other days, her embrace would’ve been comforting and the hug you reciprocated would’ve been genuine. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I just wanted to talk to you! It’s getting lonely waiting for Prince Hoseok to reincarnate, so I thought I’d visit you again!” Feigning the innocence in your voice, you started pacing around the room, aimlessly eyeing the trinkets sprinkled about.

“How kind of you, I always love having visitors!” While your back was turned to her, you rolled your eyes into your head before spinning around.

“How old were you when you met the king? Had he been crowned by the time you created a soul-bond with him?” On the one hand, your questions were meant to draw out the time you were there, but on the other, you did have a slight interest in the story.

“Looking for a love story today, are we?” You shot her a wide grin as she chuckled at you. “Yes, he was already crowned. We were both in our twenty-sixth cycle. It was the night of his reincarnation cycle that we met, actually!” As she continued her story, you snuck a glance at the corner of the room to confirm that it was Hoseok’s seed box on display. “They held a celebration ball for his arrival, and he found me bored out of my mind outside. It was strange seeing the king up close, but it was even stranger to see him so small!” She looked off out the window with a smile on her face, and you took the time to ‘wander’ towards the small box’s side of the room. “It was love at first sight for sure!”

“Hoseok told me that fairies get marks when they soul-bond. Where are yours?” You turned to her with a smile on your face and interest in your eyes.

“The soul marks, right.” She abruptly stood up from where she was sitting at her vanity and began pulling at the bottom of her dress. At first, you didn’t understand what she was doing until a red crescent moon had been revealed on the side of her calf.

“Why do you have a moon on your calf?” Stepping forward slightly, you inspected the marking closer to find that it had intricate linework that made up the shape of the moon. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought it was a very well-done tattoo.

“He didn’t explain the rest of the meaning behind soul marks?” You shook your head no and she continued, “a soul mark appears in the place where they first touched you. The king had tapped me on my leg to get my attention on the balcony that night.”

“And the moon?”

“The mark also symbolizes the moment two people fell in love with each other. Since it was love at first sight under a crescent moon, this is the mark that the mother tree gave us.”

“Does everyone get matching marks?” You cringed at the idea of coming back with matching “couple tattoos” with Hoseok, not prepared for the comments your family would make.

“Not always no, it’s rare that people fall in love with each other at the exact same time. Most people have different images.”

“I wonder what mine and Hoseok’s will be.” You hummed the thought as you turned around, sauntering towards the red box. The queen had muttered a “who knows” behind you. “Do all the Royals have a seedbox matching their wings? Do you have an orange one and the king, a red one?” While she answered a curt yes, you “mindlessly” opened Hoseok’s seed box, only to find it empty.

“You do know what happens to fairies that choose the wrong person to soul-bond with, right?” The queen’s cold voice pulled you away from the empty box, and you turned to her with your lips pressed tightly into a thin line. “They say that the fairy’s soul becomes shattered, possibly lost to time.” She waved off the last bit with a shrug of her shoulders, and you felt your throat tighten. “I don’t know what would happen to a human, though.”

“Well then,” you fought fire with fire and flashed the queen a sly grin, “It’s a good thing Hobi isn’t the wrong person.” You curtsied pathetically on purpose and turned on your heel, ignoring the audible scoff the queen had just given you.

“Joonie, it wasn’t in the box. Where else could it be?” The yellow fairy, who had grown an inch over the course of the morning, was lazily sitting on your shoulder, enjoying the opportunity to take a break from flying as you walked along the stream.

“I don’t know, Y/N, I really don’t. I don’t understand why his seed wouldn’t have been planted. He pressed his tiny head to the side of yours, and you reached a finger up to give him a gentle pat. "Last I saw of the seed, Jimin was following the queen, with the box in hand, into the royal gardens. After they vanished through the doors, I can’t tell you what transpired next.”

At the mention of Jimin’s name, your heart fell to your stomach. Having your best friend by your side to figure out this mess would prove it to be much easier. Instead, you only had the newly reincarnated Namjoon with you. You loved him with all your heart as well, but he had been absent during the time that Hoseok should’ve been preparing for reincarnation. As you, coincidentally, passed underneath Jimin’s treehouse, you thought it was the best time to take a pause. Falling to the base of the tree, you whined and moaned about the unfortunate circumstance. Taking on a temperament of a child would’ve been humorous in any other situation, but right now Namjoon could only comfort you as well as his little body could manage.

“I wish Jimin was here, Namjoon, I’m sure there’s something he knows that we don’t. Maybe the queen had told him something that would hint at her taking the seed?” You racked your brain for ideas on what Jimin could possibly know that you don’t, but your thoughts came out empty.

“I know, his reincarnation cycle has always proved to be an annoyance.” He outwardly groaned and you thought about questioning him more until a gear clicked in your mind.

“Do you think there is something in Jimin’s treehouse that could help us?” Gazing up hundreds of feet, you eyed the bottom of the home carefully. Namjoon only shrugged his shoulders with neutrality.

His lack of response caused you to roll your eyes. Pushing yourself up off the ground, you made the resolution to climb up his tree. If I become queen, everyone is getting damn ladders, you promised yourself as you made it a few feet off the ground. Thankfully, Jimin’s tree had many more notches in its trunk than yours did; you easily made it halfway up the tree before coming to a stop to rest on a tree branch. You glanced below you only to find that Namjoon had flown off somewhere, leaving you in solitude in the air. The branch you had been sitting on was quite large, and you carefully leaned back against it until you were facing the sky. Skimming over the tree, you realized that there were minute carvings crawling up the tree trunk. When you inched forward, you noticed that it was a trail of arrows. With a huff of breath, you made your ascent up the tree once again, this time paying closer attention to the markings in the tree. Once you got a few dozen more feet up the tree, the arrows began to wind around the other side, causing you to sidestep between branches. The arrows came to a halt just below the underside of Jimin’s home, and you found yourself peering into a dark hole. Despite not knowing what you would find in the darkness, you reached a shaky hand into the hole, fumbling around until you made contact with a leaf. Wrapping your fingers around the leaf, you gave it a tug only to find out it was attached to something else. A note was written on one leaf, and another leaf had been curled into a pouch of sorts.

Y/N,

If you’re reading this, that means that I’ve started my reincarnation process. God, I hope one day you can forgive me for this, but I will understand that you can’t. Just know that I wouldn’t have done this if I hadn’t been so scared for my life. I hope it didn’t take you long to realize that Hoseok wasn’t coming back and that you found this in a timely manner. I’m so sorry, Y/N, tell Hoseok I’m sorry as well. I love you, Y/N, and I know you can fix the mistake I’ve made. I’m so sorry.

-Jimin

P.S. Do NOT trust the queen.

Inscribed on the note was a cryptic apology from your best friend; your heart both leaped at the message from the past, as well as burned with confusion. What did you do, Park Jimin? Your face had twisted with anger as you palmed the pouch in your hand. Slowly with a thumping heart, you unwound the thread that kept the leaf folded together. Before you fully saw what was inside, your heartfelt as though it had stopped. Inside the pouch, found in your best friend’s tree, was the lopsided, heart-shaped seed that you had bartered an old lady for all those months ago.

One minute you were in the tree, holding a world-shattering discovery between your thumb and index finger. The next minute, you were lying on your back with fairies surrounding you. Blinking a few times, your eyes adjusted to the sight before you.

“Y/N. What the fuck were you doing, fainting at the top of a two-hundred-foot tree?” Namjoon’s tiny voice pierced your ears causing you to scrunch your eyes at the pain it was bringing to your headache. “Do you know how lucky you are that I flew off to find Taehyung the second you started climbing? You could have died!” He angrily tried to thump your forehead, but the lack of force behind it only made you laugh.

“Namjoon, the human has gone mad.” A deep voice came from outside of your view, and you turned to see who it was coming from. Before you was a fairy you had never seen before, maybe once in passing. His wings were gray, just like his hair, and his piercing eyes that gave you a pointed look sent a shiver down your spine.

“Uh-”

“Taehyung, you can thank me for carrying you to safety.” Swallowing to moisten your dry throat, you gave him a humble nod of your head before turning to Namjoon. You realized your fist was still clenched around the seed, your knuckles white from the pressure.

“Joon, look.” You held out the seed to him, and his eyes flashed with anger.

“Where the hell did you find Hoseok’s seed, Y/N?” Namjoon’s question came out more as a demand, but you understood his feelings so you brushed off his tone.

“In Ji-jimin’s tree.” It was hard to say the words, but both Namjoon and Taehyung prompted you to say more. “There were arrows carved into the tree, leading me to the hole that held the seed. As well this note.” You pulled out the note that had been tucked into the pocket of your shorts, and Taehyung grabbed into with force reading part of it aloud.

“The mistake I made? What does this mean Y/N? Did Jimin steal Hoseok’s seed?” A frown formed on everyone’s face as he asked the question everyone was wondering.

“I don’t think so,” you started to answer but Namjoon cut you off.

“No, it’s not possible. Jimin would never do that to Hoseok, prince or not. The queen must’ve put him up to it, that explains why he told you not to trust her, as well as the hints in the tree bark.” You and Taehyung nodded in agreement with his logic before the three of you fell into silence.

“What are you guys waiting for!” Standing with a determined shout, you beckoned the others to follow you to the royal garden. “We need to plant this as soon as possible!”

When the three of you rushed to the royal gardens, it was your intention to plant the seed right then and there. For the sake of everyone’s best interest, however, Taehyung suggested taking the flower pot to your treehouse for privacy and protection. With the pot in the center of your fairy home, you poked and prodded into the dirt, placing your beloved’s seed into the hole you had made. You covered the seed, and pour Hoseok’s preferred amount of water over it. When the water came in contact with the soil, the faintest red shimmer came from where the seed was buried. A rushing surge of hope filled the gaps in your heart that Hoseok’s absence had formed, and you felt your eyes brimming with tears once more. I need to stop crying so much, you thought as you fought back the waterworks, but Taehyung placed a hand on your shoulder instead, as if he had read your mind.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’d be emotional too if I found out I had to wait an additional three months for my lover to return.” At first, your tears were formed by joy and hope, but your heart shattered again at the truth behind Taehyungs words.

“Namjoon, please tell me there’s something we can do to bring him back sooner!” You pleaded with the yellow fairy, but he only shook his head.

“I don’t know Y/N. I’ve never heard of the need for a fairy to be reincarnated early.” Your resolve broke and soon you were in a fit of sobs that racked your entire body.

“Y/N.” Taehyung crouched to the spot on the floor that you had huddled yourself on. Peering up through bloodshot eyes, you relaxed only slightly at the sight of his boxy grin. “Have you ever seen the fairy library?”

April 17th

As the clock struck six pm, you chucked off your apron and made your way outside the diner. It was weird taking a break from your shift in the middle of the evening, but you were grateful for a break either way. When you first started working here, you used your breaks to actually eat dinner like you were meant to, but for the past month, your grief had ruined your appetite. The pain and torment of the events in your life were definitely taking a toll on your health, physically and mentally. With your back pressed up against the side of the diner, you slid to the ground to sit in the same spot you always did during your break. It was only from this position that you could gaze through a missing board in a fence surrounding the house catty-cornering the diner; inside the fence were spring flowers that had begun to bloom only a few weeks ago. Since meeting Hoseok, no shade of red could compare to the one that was associated with him, yet the dull red from your secret garden did something, at least, to comfort you. Pulling out a large packet of paperclipped leaves, you continued reading where you had left off in the “book.” As you frustratingly smacked the paper against your forehead, you thought back to when you had first been suggested the idea.

“Have you ever seen the fairy library?” Taehyung wore a confident smile as you shook your head no, and quickly you were being pulled to your feet. “If there is any hope for answers, it’s in the library.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes widen in amazement again at the thought of how beautiful the fairy library had been. Walking into the library was nothing short of breathtaking. The "books” were made of leaves, as you had expected, but what you had not expected, was how they were displayed. The collection was strung from vines, hanging like twigs of a willow tree. Some were too high for you to reach, try as hard as you might in jumping, but some were close enough for you to graze your finger against. Once your skin came into contact with a page the vine elongated, dropping the book into your hands. It was as if magic, like the kind you read in children’s books, was what was keeping the library together.

“Taehyung, why are they like this?” You had taken a long moment to admire and wrap your mind around the space, but you just couldn’t figure it out.

“Well, four-hundred years ago, queen Titania’s human had suggested building shelves from our plethora of trees to house the works, but I’m sure you can see why that didn’t sit well with us.” You nodded your head with a roll of your eyes at the ignorance of the human. “So, in response to his suggestion, she came up with a fancy way to sort them. It’s a little much if you ask me.”

“How do you know what books are what? How they are organized?”

“Y/N, do you notice how the vines are grouped in different colors?” Namjoon had gestured towards the ceiling, and you realized what he was talking about. To the left was a group of red vines, to the right was yellow, blue, and so forth.

“What do the colors mean?” You couldn’t help but let a childish interest fill your voice.

“Red vines hold historical books, blue is environment books,” he rambled on and on about the different colors, but it was starting to go through one ear and out the other. “I think we will have to look through the orange vines to find what we’re looking for. Those talk about fairy anatomy and our cycles, and what not”

“Why are some vines higher than others?” You glanced up and saw that the majority of the orange vines were strung ridiculously high, way out of your reach.

“The higher they are, the older they are.”

You had poured hours, days, and weeks into reading every anatomical book regarding fairies. A few days ago, you came across a book about fairy wings. In it, you read the science behind the wings and their connection to their souls. Injuring their wings is detrimental to their well-being, and with enough of it, they could revert back to seed form to heal. The knowledge made you thankful that you hadn’t tried to tug on Hoseok’s wings while trying to get his attention. You sighed one last time and put the book down, this one only talked about the reproduction system. Apparently, fairies were intimate like humans, but the information regarding getting ‘pregnant’ was a little too much to read. Could me and Hoseok ever even have children? Violently shaking your head, you rid yourself of the thoughts, chiding yourself for thinking so far in the future when your relationship with Hoseok was currently on the line. Standing to end your break early, you stuffed the leaves back into your drawstring backpack and sauntered towards the back door. It wasn’t anything you saw or even anything you heard, but a familiar itch in your heart caused you to cast a glance towards the fence one more time. Standing there, next to the fence, was the old woman that had been the catalyst for the wild adventure your life had hurdled towards. For a moment you stood there in shock, wondering if she had any relation to your situation. This can’t be a coincidence, was the final thought that you had before you were sprinting to her side.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here.” Being completely out of shape when it came to cardio had you gasping for air between words. The woman had the same mischievous gleam in her eyes like she did the first time you saw her, and you weren’t sure if you should curse her or thank her. “Did you know what that magical seed was?”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about dear, I just sell common flower seeds.”

“Liar.” You squinted your eyes at her in suspicion, not buying the act for a second. “No, you don’t, you barter for them. I gave you that necklace, remember!” You were angry for a moment but her toothless laugh cut you off.

“Are you angry about that?”

“No. I’m grateful. That seed was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Sighing warmly, you cast pleading eyes her way. “I need to get that seed to grow again, but quicker this time.”

“How long did it take to grow the first time?” You had to pause for a moment to remember the technicalities.

“A few weeks. It didn’t truly bloom until I changed its flower pot, only sprouting a few centimeters of roots before that. I need it to bloom now though. Can you help me?”

“It depends, what do I get in return?”

“You act like I carry around things to barter with, you crazy old woman!”

“I don’t think that’s any way to talk to who may be the only person who can help.” With a shrug of her shoulders, she turned to hobble away.

“Wait! Ugh I’m sorry, do you see anything on me that you like?” You held your arms out and turned in a circle. The woman reached a shaking hand towards your left hand, touching the ring on your finger. In an instant, you yanked your hand away with a scowl. “No.”

“You don’t want my help in place of a ring?” You gave her a sad smile and shook your head.

“It’s not that I don’t want your help, just not for this. You told me that my fate could be to choose my own path,” you tongued the inside of your cheek as you recalled her words, holding your hand up in the process, “and this is the path I chose. This ring represents what is keeping me going. There is a promise lying in these flowers, and I will not break that promise for information. I can fix this without more sacrifice.”

“Highest red!” With a voice filled with excitement, she gave an irrelevant response as she clasped your hands between her own.

“What?” You were taken aback by her sudden change of personality, “What does highest red mean?”

“That’s your solution, dear!” Again, you could only give her an eyebrow raised in confusion. “Don’t look at me like that. I only gave you the right seed because you listened to your heart. You trusted yourself more than you trusted others again, earning you your help.”

“I-”

“Y/N!” You swiftly turned in place to find your boss hanging out of the back door, “You’re lucky we’re dead right now, your break ended ten minutes ago!” He swiftly made his way back inside. When you glanced back towards the old woman, she was once again gone like a puff of smoke. Highest red! Were the only words running through your mind, and you had no idea where to go from there.

April 19th

“Aperta sunt mihi.” The magic fairy words that granted you access to your second home have long passed second nature and had become true nature. With winter being long gone there was no need to switch clothes, and the lack of extra baggage had you sighing in contentment. The fairy world before you was still in full bloom; its beauty and otherworldly features never ceasing. You passed under Jimin’s treehouse, giving it a look of longing for the peace that you had felt before. Deciding not to linger on the question of his innocence, you continued to the library where you had promised to meet Namjoon and Taehyung that morning.

“Y/N!” Namjoon slammed into you with full force, enveloping you in what should’ve been a spine breaking hug. “Look!” When he pulled away, he flew around in circles with his wings flapping happily.

“Oh, Joonie! You’re full grown!” His own excitement spilled into you and you were giving in to a hug once again.

“It’s always so relieving once I’m back to normal, I hate being a late bloomer!” The pun had you cackling with laughter, but you quieted yourself when you realized that neither him or Taehyung got the joke.

“Taehyung, have you found anything?” Time to get down to business.

“No, have you?” Handing back the most recent book you had taken home with you, you gave him a hopeless reply. “We’ve read all of the books in the orange section, Y/N. I don’t think we’ll find anything.”

“What about another section?” Namjoon never failed to be filled with optimism, but Taehyung shot him down with a sad look.

“I don’t know what other section we could find the answer in. I mean, blue holds the environmental stuff, and red the historical stuff, et cetera. How could those help?” Highest red! At the mention of the red section of books, the bartering old woman’s words came to your mind.

“Joonie, Taehyung?” They were slightly startled at the sound of your voice for you had grown silent in contemplation for a few minutes. “Can one of you go to the red section and find me the highest, oldest book in the collection?” They gave you a skeptical look, “trust me, please?” The two of them nodded before flying to the ceiling, leaving you in prayer that this is what the woman’s cryptic words meant. It didn’t take long before Taehyung was making his descent towards you with a book in his hand.

“Honestly, Y/N, I doubt this is the book you were looking for. It seems more like a children’s book than anything else, I don’t know why it was even in the history section.” You took the book from his hands as he gave you a shrug. You bid them farewell and made the trek back to the city to give you some alone time to read the book.

That night as you were finishing the book, which turned out to sort of be a children’s book, you were only left with more questions. It was a love story about two fairies, and the only reason why it wouldn’t be a children’s book is because of the advanced writing. Much to your dismay, the book was not about King Jungkook and his human, but instead, it was about fairies with names that you had never heard of before. It was a very typical love story with lots of heart-warming, yet tear-jerking moments. The story was enthralling, and the plot twist in the book had been so unexpectedly cheesy that you found yourself throwing the book down in shock. After a moment of recovery, you picked it back up to continue. The girl’s seed had somehow been replaced with a regular flower’s and had it not been for the author’s beautiful words, you would’ve stopped reading right then and there. You felt a connection to the man in the book, his reaction was very similar to yours when his lover didn’t reincarnate either. With an eerily similar story to yours, the man searched high and low to figure out how to bring his lover back in record time once the swapped seed had been found. Looking at your book in horror, your face dropped when you realized that there were only ten pages left and nothing was anywhere near being resolved. Still, you read on.

He was knelt on the ground, a heavy fist pounding indents into the soft grass. His lover was doomed to remain a seed for longer than necessary and his heart had shattered from the loneliness he had endured in his pursuit of freeing her from her natural confinement. Tears had begun to soak the ground as his cries echoed off the trees surrounding him. It was in his moment of complete vulnerability that the softest, faintest glow of light had broken through the soil. Appearing before him, in her beautiful state of rebirth, was the tiniest version of the love of his life.

“Are you kidding me? That’s it?” Thumbing the last page, you double-checked, triple-checked to make sure there hadn’t been more pages stuck together. “That’s so unsatisfying! What happens next? Do they live happily ever after? Did she reincarnate properly? And I thought human authors sucked at writing endings!”

Despite your frustrating complaints, your heart was soaring because at least in the book there was a large chance of a happy ending. As you usually are with finished books, you sat in your bed in a state of peaceful numbness, running theories and opinions through your mind. Begrudgingly lifting yourself off the bed, you made your way to your windowsill to Hoseok’s flowerpot; due to the lack of trust you currently had for many fairies, Namjoon, Taehyung, and yourself thought it wise to bring Hoseok outside of the village. After a moment of silent contemplation of your missing lover, you thought about the story and how it could possibly have been the solution to your problem. The night that you first heard Hoseok’s voice played through your mind, and you thought of all the different factors that had led you to that moment. I was angry, I was hurt, I had no hope, I had lost my mind, you dragged the list on and on, checking off all the emotions you felt in those moments. I was crying over a flowerpot, for crying out loud. I was so weak! You shook your head, nothing was making sense, and the old woman’s suggestion of the book certainly wasn’t either. With the fictional love story making you long for the completion of your own, you made your way back to your bed, drifting off to what you had hoped would be an easy sleep.

Dark stormy clouds covered the meadow, an unnatural storm was brewing in the village. The once beautiful and vibrant flowers were buckling under the harsh wind, and the fairies that had been caught in the storm had already run off to seek shelter. At the edge of the meadow stood the same girl from your previous dreams, but instead of an aura of beauty and grace, she carried one full of anger and sadness. A twisted look of pain formed on her face as she ran away from your gaze. In an instant, the scene had changed, and you were watching from afar as she knelt beside a boulder. She glanced above her, once then twice, staying mindful of the same storm from the scene before. “One letter, just one more letter!” You had never heard her speak before, but her voice was filled with worry and determination. When she was done carving into the boulder, a crack of thunder filled the air, causing her to flee. Once she was out of sight, you stared closely at the inscription, barely making out the word “yellow.” Another crack of lightning filled your ears, yet this time it was closer, too close. The rain had picked up, and it was only moments later that electricity surged through the boulder in the form of a lightning bolt, leaving a large crevice running through the side of it.

April 20th

The sound of your alarm coincided exactly with the strike of lightning against the boulder, causing you to sit up in bed with your heart thumping in your chest. The sun was shining wondrously through the curtains, casting a beautiful glow on the soil in Hoseok’s flowerpot. Maybe today will be the day I can bring him back, for the countless morning in a row, you held fast to the hope and repeated your mantra in your mind. Most days you would have made the trek to visit Taehyung and Namjoon, but you didn’t feel like coming back empty handed once again. Instead, you spent the entirety of your time before work making your rented home completely spotless. At this point, you had already called your old boss to tell him you would, unfortunately, not be returning anytime soon. To his dismay, he told you he was sorry to hear that ‘things’ had not worked out for you, and if you were to ever come back, it would always be worth it to reapply. Your current boss, on the other hand, was ecstatic to find out that you had withdrawn your initial quitting day, telling you that as long as you gave him two weeks’ notice, you were free to leave whenever you wanted. As far as your apartment back home goes, you weren’t exactly sure what you were to do. After telling the landlord of your made-up troubles, he told you he could guarantee two extra months of the arrangement because of the end of your lease. That means you had until the beginning of June to sort the mess out. Regardless of when you were to leave this new living space, you thought it best to make it spotless once again.

“Y/N, how are you today?” Despite being exhausted from all the elbow grease you put into cleaning your home that day, you were able to meet your coworker with a genuine smile once you got inside from your break that evening.

“I’m doing well, Tina, how are you?” She flashed you a cheeky smile and nodded her head towards the back corner of the diner. With a quick glance, you noticed she was probably gesturing towards the guy with his face in his phone.

“Got yourself a new boo, huh?” You shared the same enthusiastic smile at her new love interest.

“Who knows,” she shrugged before handing you a small plate with a dessert on it, “give this to him why don’t you, tell him it’s on the house!”

“And why am I the one doing it? If you like him, you should do it!” You gave her a playful shove to the shoulder when she squealed in embarrassment. “If I give it to him, he’ll think I’m the one trying to hit on him!”

“That’s why you make some comment about how amazing I am!” You rolled your eyes at her feigned conceitedness, “besides, you’re engaged! He won’t try to pick you up if you just flash that gorgeous ring! I still can’t believe those flowers aren’t real!” As she walked away with the cake still in your hand, your eyes wandered to your finger. No one has ever asked about the ring, assuming it’s an extremely unique engagement ring. They might not be wrong, I guess. With a shrug of your shoulders, you mindlessly sauntered over to the corner, your mind on Hoseok as usual.

“Hey there!” You had put on your customer service voice that was, for the most part, still genuine. “A secret someone told me to give this to you, said it was on the house!” His face was shrouded by a ballcap, as well as the fact that he was turned slightly inward, facing away from you. When he didn’t say anything, you gently set down the plate and offered him an ‘enjoy.’

“Y/N?” Within a second of turning on your heal, you were stopped dead in your tracks by an all too familiar voice that you had never hoped to hear again. “What are you doing here?”

“I-” Jackson looked no different than he had the last time he saw you. The only difference was the lack of hostile fire in his eyes, only to be replaced with a calm gaze. “I work here, Jackson, obviously.” You chuckled nervously as you gestured towards your waitressing uniform.

“Here? What happened to your old job? Your home?” At first, you thought his questions were too invasive, but you thought better of it and decided to be honest, to show him how well off you were. Minus the missing fairy lover part, of course.

“I guess I needed to start over, I moved here back in December.” He nodded his head, and for a moment you couldn’t read the expression on his face, causing you to anxiously rub your hand along the back of your neck. The movement made Jackson focus his eyes on your hand, and you hadn’t even noticed you had used your left one.

“You’re engaged?” He seemed to have choked on the question, a look of anguish flashing across his face.

“Something like that.” Again, he just nodded his head in silence.

“That’s great, Y/N, I’m happy for you.”

“Thank you.”

Although you accepted his good wishes, your response was forced to be a whisper from the tightness in your throat. An unknown silence fell between you that soon had you fleeing from the spot. You ignored Tina’s questions and concerned looks of worry and barely made it a point to tell your boss that you needed to leave; you told him you would pick up an extra shift that weekend. You felt a strange combination of emotions as you made the journey home, not being able to bring the feelings to an exact point until you made it through the front door. An unexpected tear had left your eye, creating a slow trail down your left cheek the moment your shaking hands had unlocked and opened the door. The only thing you could think to do was talk to Hoseok like you had when he was here, and even when he wasn’t. Grabbing the flower pot, you placed it between your legs as you sat on the floor, trying as hard as you could to keep your composure.

“Hey Hoseok, honey, how are you?” Your first words came out under ragged breaths. “I suppose that’s a stupid question, you’re a seed, huh?” You laughed at the insanity of what you were doing but at this point, you felt it was fitting. “Do you remember Jackson? The awful guy I was with, once upon a time? He was at the diner tonight.” You paused for a moment with a pathetic sliver of hope that there would be a response. When there wasn’t one you continued. “It was shocking to see him, honestly. He was different. He wasn’t cold, or angry, or abusive. He even congratulated me on being engaged!” You giggled at the word between a few escaping tears, “people at work think I’m engaged, Hobi, isn’t that funny? I hope you still love me when you come back, if you come back, that it is.” The ‘if’ had been drawn out with a short sob, and you couldn’t help but cry a little more. “Damn it, Hoseok I miss you so much. I’m so sorry you didn’t get planted, otherwise, we would be together right now!” You yelled out in anger as you thought about Jimin, the queen, about everyone in the world of fairies who might have played a part in this. “I’m trying-” a cry full of tears and heartache escaped your quivering lips, “s-so hard Hobi. Baby I’ll try to bring you b-back. I p-promise.” What had originally meant to be a calming, one-sided conversation turned out to be a confession full of pain. “They s-say that distance makes, makes the heart grow f-fonder, but fuck this hurts. I have never loved someone the way I love you, Hoseok and I miss you so much that I can’t-”

A loud sob ripped through your chest as your words were cut off by your own doing. You sat there, clutching the flowerpot with weak, trembling arms; you poured your heart, soul, and tears into the dry soil as stuttered confessions of love still tried to form on your tongue. At that moment, as your body was wrecked by deep sobs, you felt as though you had drained the last of your strength into the empty pot. It was in that moment that you almost began to accept that maybe, just maybe, Hoseok truly was lost to time. Of course, he’s not, if anything I’ll just have to wait until June to see him again. You tried to reassure yourself with positive thoughts, but nothing could replace the torment that was ravaging your soul for the time being. With no warning, a nearly inaudible, mystical sound made its way to your ears between your cries. Your brain didn’t make the connection at first, and it wasn’t until you heard the high-pitched voice of the man you loved that you finally made the effort to lift your head.

“Why are you crying?” The look on Hoseok’s face was filled with genuine concern, and your heart leaped at the miraculous sight before you.

“Hobi, is that really you?” Pinching yourself at this moment would’ve proved futile. You knew he was real, you knew this moment that you had been waiting a month for is real.

“Hobi?” His face went from concerned to confused within seconds of your question, and the next words that left his lips broke your heart to a point of no return. The fictional story you had just read may not have been finished, but the words rolling off your lover’s tongue made you understand how it probably would have. “My name is Prince Hoseok, who are you?”

Taglist: @zerotexas1975, @thelastpinkpenguin, @sockie-the-fuckingcat, @rainbow-pandacorn, @jmnyvs​

Thank you guys so much for your love and support, and I hope this chapter didn’t disappoint! xx

[geekprincess26]

The Snow: Chapter 14

Summary: Sansa Stark thought she was well rid of Jon Snow. Then an untimely blizzard reunited them. Now Sansa wants out, and Jon just wants to explain.

Previous chapters can be found here on my blog and here on AO3.

It took the consecutive slams of the Escalade’s two front doors to jar Sansa Stark’s eyes open.  The vehicle’s windows were tinted, and Sansa could not get so much as a glimpse of Jon, though she squinted and held a desperate hand to her forehead to block the glare of the sunlight reflecting off the snow around her.

Not a minute ago, Jon had held her in his arms as gently as if she’d been his gram’s vase, and had kissed her more gently still.  For a moment, she had been surrounded by his heat and his evergreen scent and his hands and his lips.  For a moment, she had been transported back to their house in London, where Jon used to hold her and kiss her every day and make love to her nearly as often and neither the divorce nor the ugly years since had blighted their lives.

Now he was gone, and now Sansa’s thumb was rubbing the spot on her forehead where Jon’s lips had rested.

“Sansa.”

Sansa watched the Escalade’s taillights disappear out of view before she turned to face Brienne Tarth’s piercing gaze.

“What happened to your elbow?” she asked with a slight nod toward Sansa’s injured limb.  She looked as though she wanted to say more, but contented herself with, “You’ve been favoring it since you got out of that car.”

Sansa sighed.  “I banged it on the seat of Jon’s car,” she said.  “Tormund was swerving to avoid the paps, and my seat belt wasn’t fastened completely, so I fell out of the seat.”

Brienne pursed her lips.  “And that’s the man who drove you all the way from York?”

Sansa grimaced.  Where distrust of anyone with whom he client had contact was concerned, Brienne could get even testier than Catelyn Stark.  

“Yes,” she replied.  “There were almost forty paps, Brienne.  He had to avoid them somehow.”

Brienne sighed.  “How bad is it?” she asked, nodding once again toward Sansa’s elbow.

Sansa shrugged.  “Probably just a bad bruise,” she said.  Brienne shook her head.

“Best get you to a doctor to make sure,” she said.  Sansa thought it was best too, partly because it would get Brienne off her back, but she could not help rolling her eyes.

“You’re almost as bad as Jon,” she said as the older woman waved Dacey off and opened the passenger door of her Lexus for Sansa.  

“At what?” Brienne’s eyes narrowed.  Sansa sighed.  Right.  She had forgotten that her guard, along with almost everyone else she knew, still thought of Jon as an unfaithful, untrustworthy git.

“Worrying,” she said quietly, training her eyes on the road ahead of them.  “He did it almost the whole time I was there.”

“He worried?”  Brienne sounded as though she wanted to ask the doctor to scan Sansa’s brain as well as her elbow.

“Yes,” Sansa replied, still staring at the road.  “He was always worrying.”  She bit her lip.  “He – ”  A lump appeared in her throat, and Sansa bit her lip harder.  A simple fact, she thought, should not cost so much effort to speak.  But the longer she waited to speak it, the less chance it had of escaping, of being known by more than just her and Jon.

There.  Just think of it as an obvious fact.  Brienne has blonde hair.  The sun is shining.  Jon was wearing a black T-shirt this morning.

Jon didn’t cheat.  Jon didn’t lie.

“He was right.”  Sansa sighed and willed her throat to squeeze out something more.  “I was wrong.”  And more.

“He didn’t cheat.”  Her voice was so low, she could barely hear herself speak.  “He worried because he’s – that’s what he’s always done with me.”  Now that she thought of it, she could not come up with a better reason than that, although God knew he’d worried far too much considering they’d spent the last three years apart because of her; but Sansa could not think of why else he would, and she certainly could not explain it to Brienne.  “Because he’s the same person he always was, and not a cheating dick.”

Brienne raised her eyebrows.  “I’m sorry,” she said, her voice softer than Sansa had ever heard it.  Tears sprang into Sansa’s eyes, and she turned her head away.

“It’s nothing you did,” she replied.  “It was my fault, really.”

Brienne drew in a breath, but the words Sansa expected never came.  Instead, her guard fell silent, which Sansa preferred anyway.  Every word she’d spoken had drained her energy, and now, after fewer than two dozen, she was exhausted.

She leaned her head against the window, rolled the hood of her coat between her hair and the cold glass, and closed her eyes.  She did not open them until Brienne shook her gently by the shoulder and informed her that she had slept all the way to the doctor’s office in Leeds.

As Sansa had hoped, the X-rays the physician took showed no broken bones.  She left the office with a bottle of painkillers and strict orders to bathe her affected elbow with ice water every hour.  By the time Brienne and Dacey had left Sansa’s flat, however, she felt even more tired than she had during the trip to Leeds.  She stayed awake long enough to text her mother, Margaery, Hannah, and Myranda to let them know she’d arrived safely back in Leeds.

Going to bed early, she added at the close of each message.  Talk to you tomorrow.

She hesitated a bit longer over her text to Jon.  Eventually she decided on Home OK.  Dr says elbow fine.  Thank you.  She chewed her lip for a few moments before adding very much and then for everything before she sent the message.

She filled a bowl with ice and cold water and carried it with a towel to one of the end tables by her couch so she could dip her elbow into it.  No sooner had she set both items down than her phone buzzed with a message from Jon.

Glad 2 hear it.

Three dots blinked in a gray bubble across the left-hand side of her screen.  Sansa plunged her elbow into the bowl and yelped when her skin made contact with the freezing mix of ice and water.  She gritted her teeth and pushed her elbow all the way in, then grabbed her phone again to set the timer.  No sooner had she done so than Jon’s next message popped up on her screen.

I forgot to give you the brooch.  I’m sorry.  Can bring it 2 you if you want.

Sansa blinked.  She’d completely forgotten about the brooch.  Guilt twisted her stomach.

I should have remembered, she typed back.  I’m sorry.  Don’t need to come all the way here.  We can meet later.

She hit the send button and sighed.  That probably sounded like a brush-off.  She should know better than to try texting anything of much substance when she was this tired and holding back screams over her quickly-freezing elbow.

I’m in London @Bridge next month, she typed.  Maybe meet then?

Jon replied at once.  Sure.  You can pick a day.

Will let u know, Sansa replied.  Good night.

She hit the send key, but her thumb slid over and the message sat still on the composition screen.  Sansa bit her lip again and added his name to the end of the message.

Good night Jon, read the green bubble with her sent message in it.

Night, popped up beneath it.  Sansa stared at the screen for a few moments, then put down her phone.  She should have remembered that Jon had never been the type to use three words where one would do.  Still, it was just one word.  One word for all the illness, fighting, misery, miscommunication, and even friendship they’d been through together over the past week.  Maybe Jon was just glad to return to the peace and quiet he loved so much.

How could she argue with that, after all she had done?  Even if she’d thought he might have more than one word after the way he’d kissed her when they’d said goodbye that afternoon?

Sansa sighed, leaned her head back against the couch, and begged her timer to speed the hell up.  Her traitorous fingers spent the entire time ghosting over her forehead.

Eventually the timer did go off.  Sansa snatched her fingers from her forehead and her elbow out of the bowl, dumped the contents into the kitchen sink, and headed off to her bedroom.

She was bloody exhausted.

When she woke up a few hours later, she visited the bathroom and settled back into bed.  It was so quiet, Sansa could have heard a pin drop.

It was far too quiet, so quiet that Sansa turned over in bed several times just to break the stillness.  She realized with a start that she’d gotten accustomed to the ventilation system and the dishwasher and the fans and the faint sounds of Pink Floyd from Jon’s apartment.  She’d even gotten used to the hum of the toilet tank in the bathroom next to the bedroom she’d occupied there.

She’d slept better over the past few nights, ever since Jon had recovered from his fever, than she’d slept in years, probably since before the divorce.  Back when she’d still been able to curl herself up against Jon’s warm body and fall asleep to the low, steady beat of his heart.  Maybe – she felt her face growing red – maybe that explained why she’d slept so peacefully the morning she’d returned to his flat from the café and he’d carried her to his couch and cradled her in his arms.  Arms she very much missed at the moment.  Arms she could have had around her for the past three years, had she not been such a blindingly brainless ball of idiocy.  

Arms she missed, even now.  Especially now.

Her body clearly agreed, because it fell asleep only to wake up again and again.  

So did her mind, because every time she woke up, it chanted the same things over and over and over.

Jon never cheated.

Jon never lied.

Jon didn’t throw me out.  He should have done, though.

I’m the worst fucking fool in the bloody fucking history of goddamned, brainless, spineless, worthless fools.

Jon got hurt.  I hurt Jon.

I took away his friends.  I took Shae and Grenn and Jory.  I bled him dry and sucked the life out of him like a bloody fucking vampire.

He never hurt me.  Not once.

By about 4:00 in the morning, an aching knot had begun to form between Sansa’s eyes.  She sat up wearily and massaged it with her fist.

Jon should have hurt her.  He should have told everyone who would believe him just how easily the wife he’d loved had turned to hating him, and how easily she’d believed and spread Ygritte’s lies about him, and how little time she’d given him to explain everything before she’d changed her phone number and moved out of their house and cut him out of her life like some kind of criminal or stalker or abuser.

He should have started dating every girl he laid eyes on as soon as the judge had awarded them the divorce decree just to show her that even if she couldn’t appreciate him, many others would.  After all, Sansa herself had shown up at several awards shows after the divorce with a few different actors.  Not that much of anything had happened after the cameras had gone away – every time she kissed another man, she felt dirtier and sadder and lonelier.  Lonelier for Jon and his lips on hers and his beard lightly scratching her chin and his hands caressing her waist through the fabric of yet another flimsy gown and his mouth whispering about how badly he wanted to get off the red carpet and away from the cameras and back to their home, where they could find much more exciting things to do than field inane questions from a battery of journalists.

She was lonely now.

Sansa scoffed at the thought.  She hadn’t seriously dated anyone since the divorce, let alone moved in with anyone.  She’d been single for almost three years.  She’d been staying with Jon for only just over a week, and for a good portion of that time he’d been sick enough to scare her stiff.  

She had no reason to be lonely, or to miss a bunch of strange sounds in an apartment she hadn’t visited before last week and probably never would again.

Sansa’s heart beat nearly out of her chest at the thought.  What if she never saw Jon again?

Two weeks ago, the thought would have made her cheer.  Now she wanted to cry.

She flopped back onto her bed, heart still hammering, but the tears refused to come.  She groaned in frustration and punched the pillow next to her and blinked ferociously, but her body refused to produce the good cry her mind needed so badly.

Jon never cheated.

Jon never lied.

Jon should never want to see me again.

The sky was turning from silver to pink when Sansa finally fell back to sleep.

-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-

Sansa was awakened a couple of hours later by the blaring of her alarm.  She slapped the snooze button on her phone, only to see a notification pop up on her calendar app reminding her that she was due at the Bridge Theatre for a rehearsal on “An Ideal Husband” in an hour and a half.  She groaned and buried her head into the pillow.  

Bloody living hell.  Of all the days to have her first rehearsal.

But the session did not go as badly as Sansa had feared.  It went even worse.

She spilled half a cup of coffee all over her clothes not ten minutes after entering the theater.  She spent so much energy fighting off yawns that the director had to repeat some of her instructions more than once.  She drew back startled when Loras Tyrell, Margaery’s brother and a fine actor in his own right, bent to kiss her a line before she had been expecting it.  She flushed beet red when she realized she had had the wrong line in mind.

“Sorry!” she whispered to Loras when the director called for a halt to the scene.  “My mistake.”

At least the director had liked the idea of Sansa’s character pulling away from the kiss because it would recall the argument she’d had with her husband earlier, Sansa thought as she exited the theater.  That meant one good thing had come out of the whole mess.

She glanced at her phone and saw voicemails on it from Myranda Royce, Hannah Freeman, Margaery Tyrell, and her mother.  She decided to return home and sit down with some food and tea before dealing with any of them.  That turned out to be the best decision Sansa had made all day, since the first ten seconds of her publicist’s voicemail had her scurrying to the first celebrity news website she could find.  Sure enough, it was peppered with pictures taken by the paps who had followed her and Jon out of his flat the prior day.  Most of them featured her or Jon ducking and shielding their eyes, but one or two lucky photographers had managed to obtain shots of Jon grabbing for her as she tumbled out of her seat.  They were hardly the most compromising photos in the world, but the headlines made up for that.

SANSA STARK AND JON SNOW: BACK TOGETHER?

LATEST SIGHTING POINTS TO BLIZZARD OF LOVE FOR EXES SANSA STARK AND JON SNOW

Oh, holy mother fucking shit…shit...shit…

Not until Sansa’s phone rang did she realize she’d been moaning the words aloud.  She checked her phone screen and groaned even more loudly before hitting the connect button.

“Hello, Mother,” she said as politely as she could.  “Sorry I didn’t get back to you earlier.  I’ve been a bit busy since getting back from York.”

“So I hear,” replied Catelyn Stark.  It never ceased to amaze Sansa how much disapproval her mother could inject into just three words.  “You didn’t tell me you’d been staying with your former husband, Sansa.”

Sansa cringed.  She should have known the older woman would see the photos.  Fuck the paparazzi.  She never would have known otherwise…fuck, fuck, fuck…

“No, I didn’t,” she replied.  “I didn’t intend to, anyway.  I got stuck in the blizzard after the accident I told you about, and Jon offered to take me to his flat to wait it out.  It wasn’t as though the police didn’t have a hundred other stranded people to take home as it was.”

Sansa could practically see Catelyn Stark pursing her lips.  “And that may well have been preferable,” she answered.  “At least the police are usually trustworthy.”

“And Jon is trustworthy all of the time,” Sansa retorted.  Shit.  She had hoped to wait some time before having this particular conversation with her mother.  

“Excuse me?” Catelyn’s voice was sharp enough to carve an ice sculpture.  Sansa let out a breath through gritted teeth.

“I said that Jon is trustworthy,” she repeated, trying to keep her voice steady.  “He’s never lied to me in any way.  I found proof of that while I was visiting him.  He didn’t cheat, and he would never mistreat me, if that’s what you were trying to say.”  She was nearly shouting into the phone by the end, but at least her words weren’t wobbling out of her mouth.

“I am always concerned for your welfare, Sansa,” her mother answered, “especially when it involves a man whom you had informed me was unfaithful to you with his former girlfriend.  Even your father never had the gall to do that.  So I naturally wonder what sort of proof he gave you to change your mind so suddenly.”

Sansa wanted to scream, but that would solve nothing; if anything, it would only lead to more lectures and clucks of disapproval.  She exhaled again, turning away from the phone as she did so.

“I appreciate your concern, Mother,” she bit out at last, “but my welfare is fine, especially since I do have proof that Jon never cheated on me with that woman or anyone else.  It was proof I should have waited for before deciding to leave him so soon.  I was the one in the wrong, not him.”  Her voice began to tremble again.  Shit.  “And it’s not refutable.  He didn’t do what Father did, Mother, but if you’d rather not believe that, I won’t tell you what to think.”  

“Hmmm.”  The tone of Catelyn’s voice had lowered by at least an octave.  Sansa shuddered.  Her mother’s voice lowered more the less she liked something, and right now it was nearly as low as Sansa had ever heard it.

“But thank you for calling to check up on me,” Sansa managed.  “I appreciate it.  I’ll call you later this week with an update on my projects after I talk to Myranda.”

“Yes, and perhaps after you’ve had more time to settle down and think after all this running around,” Catelyn Stark replied.  Sansa felt yesterday’s headache making its way back to the front of her skull.

“Goodbye, Mother,” she choked out and pressed the red button.  She flopped to the side and buried her head in the couch’s armrest.

She wanted to scream, but suddenly she had no energy to do it.  Just as with yesterday’s conversation with Brienne, explaining Jon’s innocence and her own guilt, even in brief, seemed to suck the life out of her.

Maybe she was even more fucked up than she thought.

Sansa napped fitfully for the next hour, but woke feeling groggy and uncomfortable.  

It was still way too quiet.  And the quiet was really starting to wear on her nerves.

She sighed and picked up her phone to call her publicist.  Then she realized how rich it would be of her to do that without ensuring that she and Jon both told their publicists to make identical statements about the photos.  The media were both sharp and ruthless when it came to finding and investigating discrepancies in multiple statements about such pictures.  

She pulled up their text thread, sent Jon the most emphatic apology she could think of, and waited for his response.  In the meantime she called Myranda Royce, who had two new role offers for her and agreed to schedule an audition for Wolves R Us posthaste.  Sansa heard the faint buzzing indicating incoming text messages during the phone call, and, sure enough, once she ended it she saw a smattering of them from Jon.

Nothing to be sorry about, they began, and Sansa felt a warm lump form in her throat.  She also felt like smacking the phone screen, as if it were responsible for Jon’s refusal to acknowledge the possibility that the paps had only come along because of her.  Instead, she scrolled through the rest of his messages.  At least they showed more common sense.  Jon did not want to give the media the satisfaction of a comment, and Sansa heartily agreed, but they both knew that would only invite more scrutiny.  In the end, they settled on a brief statement acknowledging that Sansa had had car trouble and Jon had graciously allowed her to stay with him.  The assertion that the two had been discussing business matters was a bit less accurate, but they added it anyway.  After all, the media had no need to know that the business matters had been entirely personal.

Sansa related the results of the discussion to Hannah Freeman, whose voice never lost an ounce of cheer.  Within ten minutes, she had e-mailed Sansa a statement for her approval and copied Jon and his publicist on the e-mail.  Sansa scanned it and sent a reply-all message approving it.  She clicked through a few more of the dozens of e-mails sitting in her inbox while waiting for responses from Jon and his publicist.  They were identical to hers.  Sansa sighed with relief and shut her laptop.

She needed a drink.  She needed a distraction.  She needed therapy.

She needed to keep at least one of her promises to Jon.  Besides, she was a fucking mess.

Sansa sighed, reopened her laptop and typed a quick message to Mya Stone asking for a meeting.  She reviewed and re-reviewed her lines for “An Ideal Husband,” then practiced them in front of the enormous floor-length mirror she kept in her bedroom just for that purpose.  Eventually, though, she lost her focus.  She got the same result when she tried to go through her e-mails, and again when she attempted a few rounds of Sudoku on her tablet.  She even did an online kickboxing workout, hoping the physical exertion would refocus her mind, but all she wanted to do afterward was collapse into bed, so she did.  She even opened the Pandora app on her phone to play a quiet stream of music, just to drown out the silence that had become so deafening from the moment she’d returned home.

She supposed that was why she ended up sleeping longer than she had the prior night.  She still woke when the sky was dark, however, and she still only managed to doze between bouts of wakefulness.

At first she turned her music off.  She also checked her e-mail inbox, which contained a reply from Mya.  Sansa typed a quick reply accepting her therapist’s offer of an appointment later that day, then headed back to bed.

Back to bed and that deathly quiet.  The quiet her mind was only too happy to fulfill.

Jon didn’t cheat.

I hurt Jon.

Jon didn’t lie.

I said that he did.

I made people believe that he did.

I didn’t listen to Jon.

I hurt Jon.

Jon didn’t hurt me.

After half an hour of tossing and turning, Sansa restarted the music on her computer and turned down the volume a bit.  That allowed her to doze off, but she woke less than an hour later.  She pawed through two closets before she found an old fan that she’d used half a dozen times since she’d moved into the flat almost three years ago.  Its noise helped, but Sansa woke several more times before the alarm on her phone blared once again.

By the time she arrived at Mya’s office, she was exhausted, irritated to hell, and on her third cup of coffee.  She caught her reflection in the hallway mirror and cringed at the sight of the bags underneath her eyes.  Ugh.  I look every bit as lovely as I feel.

“It’s all right,” Sansa blurted as soon as she had seated herself in front of her therapist.  “You can tell me I look awful.”

Mya, who had just picked up her notepad, gave Sansa one of her therapist looks, the one that combined the aura of a patient listener with the X-ray vision of a cartoon villain.  It meant her brain was working about fifty times faster than Sansa’s, which just irritated Sansa more.  

“Or that I have cognitive dissonance,” Sansa remarked.  “I totally believe in the concept now.”

That, she thought, should get a real reaction.  Mya had explained the idea of having or trying to have one set of beliefs while acting according to another all the way back when Sansa had begun her therapy, back when she’d still been so stung and hurt over Jon betraying her.  Stung and hurt and wishing desperately that she could have found proof that he hadn’t.  And wishing that she could make that wish go away.  Jon had cheated on her, pure and simple.  He’d fucked his ex-girlfriend so he could be rid of her.  There was no use in trying to pretend he hadn’t.  No, she believed just one thing about Jon and acted accordingly, as far as she could tell.  Neither cognitive dissonance nor the agonizing her mother had done long ago, when she’d finally made the long-overdue decision to divorce Sansa’s father, was a problem for Sansa.

But some defiant shard of her shattered heart would unearth itself and murmur in Sansa’s ear far more often than she liked, wondering what if and Jon wouldn’t and it’s just not him.  She’d almost listened to it at first, almost let herself believe Jon when she’d met with him back in her Leeds flat and he’d explained everything so convincingly and begged her to believe him and looked so wounded and genuine and sad.  

She’d been so close to throwing herself into his arms and not bothering to call the jeweler or the goldsmith whose names Jon had given her.  Even when she’d screwed up her courage by reminding herself sternly about her father’s lies and her need to make sure Jon wasn’t telling her any, she’d hung up the phone twice on the first ring when she’d called the jeweler.  Only on the third try could she manage to squeak out actual words.

God, she wished she hadn’t.  She wished she’d chased Jon down, thrown herself into his arms, and never let him go.

Mya’s voice echoed into her consciousness then, and when Sansa looked up, the other woman had clearly just spoken to her.  Judging from her expression, she’d called Sansa’s name more than once.

Sansa shook her head quickly to rouse herself from the memories.  “Sorry,” she said.  “What was the question?”

“What happened to change your mind about the idea of cognitive dissonance?” asked Mya, placid as ever.  That only irritated Sansa.

“What?  No asking me how I feel about it?” she snapped.  Mya merely raised an eyebrow.

“Feelings aren’t the only way we process the world and the event around us,” she said.  “But if you’d prefer to talk about your feelings, I’d love to hear them.”

Only Mya could have said a sentence like that with a straight face and no hint of sarcasm or subterfuge.  Sansa wanted to scream at her.

Or maybe I should be screaming at me.

“So what do you want to hear?” she snapped.  “Do you want to hear that I got stuck in a blizzard and Jon was the one of all bloody people that showed up to help me?  Do you want to hear how I spent the next day screaming bloody murder at him for cheating me and humiliating me only to find out he never did and I was wrong the whole time?  Do you want to hear how I based the last three years of my fucking life on a fucking lie from hell and made his life hell because I was bloody stupid enough to believe it because I should have known better and I even wanted to know better before I dumped him out of my life?  Do you want to hear that he got so sick I was afraid he’d – that I’d – and then after he got better he was nice to me?  Even before?  And that the whole reason any of this happened is that the woman in the car in front of me died at the wheel and crashed and loads of other people almost crashed too?  And the police – the police – told me I couldn’t have done anything about it, but every day I imagine her face from when I stopped to check on her and call 999?  And that I was afraid I’d see Jon like that every day too if he had – and him I could have done something about because I should have listened to him, I should have given him more than four days before I filed for divorce, and I should have – I should have thought more about it.”

Not until she paused to take a breath did she realize that the hot lump in her throat from the previous day had returned, or that two more had sprung up in the backs of her eyes.

“I should have known,” she whispered.  “Jon never cheated.  Jon never lied.”

Then the lumps gave way and the tears poured out freely.

Sansa was not entirely sure how long she spent alternately weeping into her hands and emptying half of the box of tissues Mya always kept on the side table.  Eventually the tears stopped, although fortunately the supply of tissues did not, and Sansa blew her nose one more time before she forced herself to look the other woman in the eye.  She expected to see the same placid expression; but, if possible, Mya only looked sad.  Sad, and concerned.  A bit like Jon, really, Sansa thought, and blew her nose again.

I’m fucking pathetic.

Only when she looked at Mya again and saw the other woman’s raised eyebrow did Sansa realize she had spoken the words aloud.

“Why do you believe that?” asked Mya gently.  Sansa arched a brow back at her.

“Because I should have known,” she replied.  “If I’d just listened to him a little more, and checked for myself beyond the first layer of things.  Or, bloody fucking hell, to myself, even.  You were right when we talked before.  There was always something – some part of me that knew Jon better than that, but I didn’t listen.”  She took a shaky breath.  “I didn’t listen, and I didn’t try long enough to figure out that it wasn’t Jon’s fault; it was all a setup by his ex-girlfriend trying to get him back.”  Two tears welled out of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.  “I should have known.  I really should have known.”  Another set of tears joined the first.  Sansa reached for another tissue.

“So you were lied to,” Mya said.  Sansa’s head snapped upward to face her.

She’d never considered that.  She nodded anyway.

“I guess – yeah, I was,” she replied.

Still looking sad, Mya nodded.

“Sansa,” she asked, “have you ever been to a mirror house?”

Sansa’s brow crinkled.  “What?” she said.

“You might have heard it called a fun house instead,” Mya continued.  “They used to have them at carnivals and circuses.  They were small buildings whose hallways and rooms were covered with mirrors.  Each mirror distorted your image in a certain way: some would show you upside-down, some would make it look like you’d been sawn in half, others would magnify your head and face…”

“Oh.  Right.”  Sansa had been to one or two as a child.  She’d been terrified, and Robb had had to hold her hand during their entire time inside.

“Some mirror houses have normal mirrors at the end or right outside,” Mya went on.  “Many people get confused or can’t believe it when they see those true reflections because their brains have gotten accustomed to the warp ones.”  She gestured, palm barely upturned, toward Sansa, as if offering Sansa an invisible object.  “You’ve been living in a mirror house for three years, Sansa.  It’s normal to get overwhelmed when you see a real mirror.”  Her voice softened.  “Especially in the context of having witnessed a death.”

Sansa shook her head.  The lump had returned to her throat, and it took a few moments for her to be able to speak.

“I didn’t actually see her die,” she said.  “I just saw her right afterwards, when I went to her car to check on her.”

Mya nodded.  “You did see her right after she died,” she said, with just enough of a question in her voice for Sansa to nod.

“It’s normal to be overwhelmed by that sort of experience as well,” she said.  “And you told me Jon was very ill?”

Sansa nodded again.  “He had a really high fever,” she whispered.  “He’d had them back when we were married, but this one was worse.”

“Then that’s three difficult, high-stress events in a row,” Mya observed.  “Being overwhelmed by one is perfectly normal, let alone three.  So is showing that you’re overwhelmed.  In fact, from what I know of you based on our time together, I would be more concerned if you weren’t visibly upset.  What you’re doing is valid and healthy.”

“Healthy.”  Sansa shook her head as another set of tears spilled down her cheeks.  “I’m anything but healthy.  I’ve spent three years poisoning Jon’s life, no matter what bloody lies I believed.  I’m – for the love of Christ, I accused him of being like my father.”  She spat the last word out, along with several more tears.  “I mean, I told him when I found out the truth that I knew he wasn’t anything like that and how sorry I was that I ever did, but it’s – he’s still – it’s still done.  I still damaged him and hurt him so, so, so, so badly, and it doesn’t matter that he was so much nicer about it than he should have been – he’s still so hurt, and it’s my fault.  It’s completely my fault.”  She reached for another tissue and wiped her eyes, which immediately filled up again.

“So you took responsibility for your actions,” Mya said softly.  “That’s also valid and healthy, Sansa.”

Sansa shook her head.  “It still can’t make things right, like Jon deserves,” she whispered.  “It can’t make me go back three years and just listen and not poison everything.”  She blinked, producing two more tears.  “He just – he didn’t even want me to – when I brought up some things I wanted to do to make up for it, he didn’t want me to.  He said it doesn’t work that way.  I – I’d rather keep going because he deserves at least that much, but…”  She shook her head.  “It still doesn’t turn things back.  He’d still be hurt because of me.”

Mya nodded.  “No, nothing can change the past,” she affirmed.  “That doesn’t have to doom your future, though.  You’ve already taken ownership of your actions to both Jon and yourself.”  Her voice softened as she lowered her gaze to meet Sansa’s, which was obscured by the tears flowing down her cheeks.  “It’s OK to let yourself grieve over the consequences now that you know what kind of mirror you’re looking into.”

Sansa managed a nod before dissolving into sobs once again.

-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-X-

Fuck, she thought two days later as she strode into Hot Pie’s, her and Margaery’s favorite brunch spot, and saw her best friend chattering merrily with their friends Shae Lorath and Beth Cassel in the corner booth.  She’d forgotten that Margaery had texted her after she’d gotten home from her therapy session asking if the other two women could join them on their coffee date.  Sansa, whose head had felt like it weighed a hundred pounds at that point, had numbly typed “yes” and then collapsed on the couch to cry herself to sleep.

But she pasted a smile onto her face and greeted the other women warmly.  It wasn’t their fault that she’d been walking around in a fog for the past few days.

“So glad you’re back from York, Sansa,” Shae remarked when the waiter had left the table with Sansa’s coffee order.  “Especially since you were stuck with him.  God, I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Sansa shook her head.  “I’m fine,” she said, although her stomach had twisted at Shae’s words.  The other woman had been befriended both Sansa and Jon while they had been dating, but after the divorce she had firmly sided with Sansa and had, as far as Sansa knew, cut out all contact with Jon.

Sansa supposed Mya would say that Shae had been looking at the wrong mirror.  That, however, was not Shae’s fault.

“Jon didn’t cheat,” she said, and three wide-eyed stares turned to face her.  “Jon never lied.”

[jimlingss]

The Breakup Bureau

Words: 8.1k Genre: Fluff, Angst

Read more at Service Series 

Saying goodbye is never easy.

Held hands over the table, she looks at him with softened eyes and a thoughtful expression. As he finishes with a gentle exhale, she nods. “You know what? You’re right! I deserve better!”

“You deserve the world and more.” He charmingly smiles, gaze dripping with honey.

She breaks out into a grin and pulls her hands away from his, leaning back in her chair. “How could I have been so blind?! I can’t believe I went through a relationship like that for an entire year!”

“And now you get to start fresh again. With someone who will treat you the way you deserve.”

“You’re right.” She shakes her head, repeating it like a mantra. “You’re so right and I’m thankful for him too. Because if it weren’t for him, I would’ve never had this experience. Now I have a whole new blank slate and I can use the experience I have under my belt for a more successful relationship.”

He grins at her. “That’s exactly what I’m saying!”

With a big smile and an inhale, she gets up from her seat. The two shake hands with each other. “You opened my eyes. Thank you….?”

“Hoseok.” Two dimples dot each side of his cheek, a mop of bright orange hair on his head contrasting against the sophisticated suit. “My name is Hoseok.”

//

The office is located in a small, dingy spot at the corner of a run down strip mall. Sometimes there are loiterers around and by loiterers - it’s sketchy people doing weird business. There’s even been an incident of some teenagers taking a piss at the brick wall but Taehee came out with a broomstick and chased them away. Despite the location, it’s quite cozy inside with some computers and cubicle desks.

“What happened to you?”

Hoseok laughs as he wipes his feet on the welcome mat and strips off his black coat, throwing it onto the hanger. “Some guy punched me in the face.” Insung is expressionless, holding up the bag of ice to his face as Taehee joins in the laughter.

“Why are you so bad at your job?” She murmurs out with amusement.

“I’m not bad, okay? He was just really upset.” He sighs. “I don’t blame him either. He was gonna marry the girl.”

“Let me guess.” She clasps her hands together, still leaning on the cubicle wall as she turns to Hoseok. “Mission unsuccessful?”

“Mission successful.” Hoseok tilts his head, dragging out the words with exasperation. “Who do you think I am?”

“Even worse than me.” Insung grins. “You hate hurting people’s feelings.”

“Congratulations. Is this your first success this month? Didn’t someone splash wine on you last time?” Taehee laughs, patting a dejected Hoseok on the back as he walks to his desk.

“It’s my second success this month.” He pouts. “And no, you’re thinking of the incident two months ago. Last time someone slapped me across the face.”

“Right, right.” She nods with a giggle.

“It hurt you know.” He mumbles, rubbing his cheek like he can still remember how sore it was for days after. Hoseok plops down in his seat, spinning around in the swivel chair as he stares at the ceiling.

“Breakups are terrible.”

You have a significant other and now it’s time to break it off. The only thing is that you’re terrible at confrontation and you really don’t want to be a witness to their massive breakdown. Who says you have to? At the Breakup Bureau, we break up for you!

Quick. Easy. Painless. Without having to do anything at all! Call today at 1-800-goo-dbye.

The Breakup Bureau. Doing business for you.

Hoseok takes a sharp inhale as he reads off the slip of his paper, a name of his ‘victim’ and a few details on who they are. He blinks once as he enters the cafe, the bells chiming to mark his entrance.

No way, he thinks to himself. It’s too much of a coincidence.

He looks around and spots you in the corner, looking out the window. He clears his throat and takes a few strides up as you slowly turn your face, catching him in your peripheral vision and-

“Hoseok?”

There’s a complete blank expression on his face until a grin breaks it. “Y/N?!”

He wasn’t wrong after all.

“Oh my god!” You get up instantly with a big smile that matches his. “How long has it been? How are you doing? Wow!”

Hoseok laughs, a noise rolling off his tongue as his eyes crinkle. “Slow down. One question at a time!” He pulls up a chair across from you and the other customers in the shop muse how the once lonely corner is now the brightest and loudest one. “How are you?”

“I’m doing great actually.” You try to bite back your smile when you realize it’s too wide. “What about you? Anything new?”

“I’m doing fine. Nothing much has changed.”

There’s a long silence as you both linger in each other’s presence but any awkwardness that might be possible isn’t present at all. “Wow...this is kind of crazy.” You sigh out.

“How so?” He laughs.

“One moment I’m sitting here by myself and the next I’m across from my childhood best friend who I haven’t seen in years.”  

“I know the feeling.” Hoseok snickers but then his grin instantly dies down, reminded of why he’s here sitting in front of you today. The wind knocks out of his lungs and he wants to smash his head against the wall. There’s no way...sitting in front of you like this with your smile, there’s no way he can break u-

“How’s your mom doing? Is she still baking those delicious scones? I still haven’t forgotten about them! I was so regretful that I never got the recip-”

“She’s doing fine.” He cuts you off. “Listen, Y/N. Are you dating anyone these days?”

“Wow, Jung Hoseok.” You lean back in your seat, crossing your arms and tilting your head to one side. He swallows hard, nervous of the suspicious look you’re giving him. “We literally just met up again for five minutes and you’re already hitting on me?”

“I-I’m not hitting on you.” He draws out with exasperation.

You giggle and he laughs. “Actually I am. His name is Jaebum and he’s a really great guy. You should totally meet him some time. Sometimes he just goes off and-”

The words that spew from your mouth go through one of his ears and out the other. Hoseok grimaces of how he has met your boyfriend, well through the phone anyway - and he’s an outright douchebag in real life, ordering Hoseok to break up with you as soon as possible. It’s completely unlike how you describe him so fondly with immense love in your eyes. Hoseok can’t help but feel guilty and a tad bit jealou-

“Are you listening to me?” You wave your hand in front of him, leaning closely. “Earth to Hobi!”

His heart does a tiny summersault of the old nickname that has only ever been used by you. “I’m here, I’m here.” He grins, giving you a silly expression that makes you laugh. “Y/N.”

“What?” Your smile ceases at his sudden serious tone.

Hoseok takes a deep breath, recalling the proper steps to a smooth breakup. 

Don’t blame them.

Share the positives.

 Be hot. Honest, Open and Truthful.

“It’s not your fault.” He smiles gently. “You’re an amazing person, Y/N. I know so and you deserve the absolute best in this world.”

You give him a quirked smile. “What are you talking about?”

Direct like ripping a band-aid off. Just say it.

He coaxes himself, taking another inhale. “Between you and Jaebum, it’s ove-”

“Oh my god!” You completely miss his words, standing up at the table with your phone in your hand. “We’re going to be late!”

“What?”

With a simple sigh and digging your phone back into your purse, you smile at your old friend. “I was waiting for Jaebum but I guess he’s running a bit late. We have a date night tonight. I already got the tickets to a movie. It’s starting in ten minutes!”

“Oh.”

Hoseok isn’t sure if there was any miscommunication but he was positive that it was suppose to be over between the both of you. How a date was set up, he has no absolute idea. Just how cowardly was this Jaebum guy?

You turn to Hoseok with a grin, one that has him blinking twice. “You know what? You should totally come with us.”

“What?” He gives an expression of horror which you take as confusion.

“Well, I haven’t seen my best friend in years and we still haven’t gotten to catch up or anything.” You pout at him and he nearly falters at your glistening puppy eyes. ��I’m sure Jaebum won’t mind. Let’s go~”

Before he can protest, he’s pulled out and dragged by you out the door. “Hey. Hey!”

//

The both of you are on the curb on the street, in front of the theater and Hoseok watches you in guilt as you turn your head to look down every direction of the road. The rain is drizzling mildly, droplets falling onto your eyelashes. “Why isn’t he here yet? The movie’s starting in two minutes.”

“Maybe we should just go in.” Hoseok clears his throat, persuading you gently. “Maybe he’s running late.”

“Yeah.” With a small huff, you turn on your heel and the two of you enter the warm building.

Hoseok steals a glance, wanting to move away the wet strands of hair in front of your face. Instead he forcefully peels his eyes off of you and clears his throat. “Does he do this often?”

“Not being on time?” You ask him innocently and he feels a sudden urge to engulf you in his arms, apologizing a hundred times to dissipate your hurt expression.

“Not showing up at all.”

There’s a slight hum that leaves your throat. “Sometimes but that’s just who he is. I still love him though.”

The words twist his guts like a washrag and he groans internally at how every second that passes, you’re just making it more and more difficult for him. It must show on his face because the next thing that you ask while walking inside the theater room is- “are you okay?”

He smiles reassuringly despite being barely seen in the dim lights. “Yeah. I’m just super excited for the movie!”

You snicker at him and he can still hear you as the both of you walk up the stairs and pick a spot smack dab in the middle. “It’s actually crazy how much of a coincidence this is. Don’t you love robot movies?”

“That was when I was like five!” He protests loudly and no one around is disturbed since the commercials playing drown out his voice. You, on the other hand, hear him loud and clear since you’re in the next seat and mere millimeters away.

“Maybe it was good that Jaebum didn’t show up..” Hoseok speaks his mind for a moment, stealing yet another glance at you. “Because...of course you only had two tickets with you!”

He laughs stiffly and you smile. “Maybe you’re right. But anyways, aren’t you glad it isn’t a horror movie? Jaebum really wanted to watch one.”

“Don’t you hate horror movies?” He frowns.

“Yeah.” The smile on your lips drop before something even more mischievous shows up a second later. “But at least I don’t piss myself.”

“That was one time!” He practically screams and this time it’s loud enough that the people in the next row turn around with a glare. Hoseok instantly quiets down, sinking deeper into his seat in embarrassment and you punch his arm with a giggle.

Before anything more is said, the lights dim and the two of you settle in for two hours. It’s the happiest you’ve been in awhile, reunited with your friend and the both of you laughing with each other, giving light punches at the other’s arm. The disappointment of Jaebum not appearing, once weighing on your mind, completely is forgotten.

//

“That. was. insane.” You shout to the sky, the both of you leaving the theater and Hoseok throwing the empty bowl of popcorn that you both shared into the trashcan.

“That twist. Who ever knew?” He grins.

“That the entire time the main character was the robot and that entire world was just a different species.” You shake your head, turning to him with amazement in your eyes that makes him giggle. His eyes crinkle and dimples dot both sides of his cheek. “Oh! I have dinner prepared at home. You should come over.”

“Come over?”

“Yeah, it’s not like we’re strangers or anything! I have like a decade of things to catch you up on.” There’s a flicker in your eyes before you recoil. “Oh..unless you’re busy or something. It’s fine either wa-”

“Y/N.” He searches your face, finding a bit of guilt but he can’t bear the thought of you returning back with prepared dinner but no one else to eat with. He wonders how you even ended up with such an asshole when you truly deserve the best; he’s said and thought that line a million times before but never has he meant it more. “I’d really love to.”

You deserve the best.

He can’t help but want to be that ‘best’.

//

When Hoseok asked if Jaebum lived with you, you shook your head and said something along the lines that he complained it was too restricting and not enough freedom for him. Hoseok didn’t push anymore when he saw how your bright face became gloomy with the mention of your supposed boyfriend. But with your cozy apartment and the dinner already half eaten despite still steaming on the table, anything unhappy quickly washes away. It’s delicious and Hoseok doesn’t remember the last time he’s had a home cooked meal, having moved away from home for a long time. Regardless of how he wants to gobble it all up, he sometimes forgets to eat when the both of you are hooked in deep conversation.

“So the hairstylist messed up and…”

“You did not.” He grins. “You got a bowl haircut?!”

“I did!” You yell out with exasperation, cringing away from the memories. “It was so embarrassing and my crush at the time told me it looked fine but then I saw him laughing with his friends.”

“Oh my god.” Hoseok shakes his head, cheeks numb from smiling. “You need to show me a photo.”

“Over my dead body.” You pout, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Hey! But you saw my face with that atrocious haircut before!”  

“That was back when you were in kindergarten.” You quirk your head to the side. “And you were cute back then so it helped.”

His heart does another somersault and he can’t help but hit the ceiling at how you called him cute. Well technically, his former and younger child self cute but it still counts! And it’s so ironic because you’re cute and he feels an urge to just squish your cheeks together and ki-

“I wondered what happened to you.” You shake your head apologetically. “Where did the cute Hobi go?”

He pouts exaggeratedly, batting his eyelashes. “I’m still cute, Y/N-ah.”

“Really?” You widen your eyes, searching his face. “Where? I don’t see it?”

His jaw drops to the floor. “You’re still bullying me after all these years! Meanie.”

“I am so not.” You’re the one who’s flabbergasted. “Remember how you made me eat your expired crackers?”

He grins warmly. “But you didn’t get sick..so-”

“So? I could’ve died!”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“I’m the dramatic one?”

It’s still odd to you how Hoseok is sitting right in front of you and it’s like there hasn’t been a day that’s passed since the both of you were apart. Smiles and giggles slip from your lips so easily that it’s almost scary. Despite his exaggerated pouts and his playful teasing, he’s a lot more attentive and caring that you remember him as, washing the dishes and refusing to let you do anything since you cooked the meal.

With his tall figure and broad shoulders at the sink, you muse how he isn’t the short child that you used to jump on and make him play pretend as a horse. He would make ‘purring’ sounds as you pointed and lead him where to go, like the princess you wanted to be.

“What are you laughing about?” He turns around with narrowed eyes and you smile.

“How did you get your orange hair?”

There’s a long silence as he turns back to his task before a small whisper leaves his mouth and you burst out in another fit of laughter. “I lost a bet.”

//

Crashing on your couch, the television simply plays as background static noise, contrasting how you and Jaebum use to fill the silences. “You still dance?!”

He smiles a bit modestly. “A little?”

“A little?! If you’re still dancing from grade six until now, you must be fantastic!” You lean back in the plush armchair. “Wow~ Jung Hoseok, you need to show me some time.”

“I will.” He yawns.

“Oh. It’s already midnight.” You look at your clock before it really hits you. “MIDNIGHT?!”

“Didn’t we get here at seven?” He squints at the time as if it’s wrong. “How did five hours pass so quickly?”

“I have no idea.” You shake your head, rubbing your eyes after realizing that they were burning.

There’s a bit of a silence before Hoseok speaks up. “I should really get going then.”

“Oh. Yeah. You have work right?”

“I do.” He gets up, turning around to put on his jacket but he can already sense you lingering behind him, swaying on both feet and not sure of what to say. “We should do this again sometime.”

You jump at his words, glad that your fun wasn’t one sided. “Let’s trade numbers then.”

When you do just that, putting in your number in his phone and returning it to him, he snaps a picture of you with the bright flash causing you to blink. “Hey!” He giggles and you pull up the camera, making him pose. “You too.”

Hoseok does his infamous cute stance, puffing out his cheeks as his hands squish against them and he pouts his lips with closed eyes. A click and a laugh later, you set it as his contact photo. As you glance at his screen, seeing the picture of you mid-blink and after a protest, Hoseok pulls you in for a selfie with him. “Satisfied?”

He shows you the picture of the both of you smiling brightly despite it being past midnight and the glow of the kitchen light in front of you a little dim. “Very. Send it to me too!”

The both of you linger at your doorway, a bit awkwardly as Hoseok scratches the back of his neck. “You should go to bed soon.”

“I will.” You smile. “You too. It’s really late. Drive home safely. You should text me when you get back.”

“I will.” Hoseok reassures before he gathers enough courage to lean in and give you a tight squeeze. You reciprocate immediately but the embrace remains friendly and only lasts a mere two seconds. “It was really fun catching up with you, Y/N.”

“We should do it again.” You grin. “There’s still plenty of stories to tell.”  

He smiles with a nod. “Alright. Go back inside and lock the door. Goodnight Y/N.”

“Goodnight Hoseok.”

You watch as he turns and walks down the hallway before gently shutting the door with a soft smile. Hoseok turns around to try to catch one last image of you but you’re already safely tucked inside your abode and he smiles too. It’s right then and there that it occurs to him that he completely forgot to do his job.

He forgot to break up with you.

But in reality it’s not as bad as he grimaces and punches the air in front of him, since you’ve completely forgotten about your boyfriend as well.

//

“I already paid you!! I thought you said you could get the job done in one day!!” The voice barks over the telephone, shaking his ear drums.

“I’m very sorry, sir. There was a delay in our message and we can refund you at any given ti-”

“Just!” The voice groans over the phone. “Just get it done for me in three days!”

“Why are you so mad, baby?” There’s another faint voice over the phone, a woman and most definitely not you. She continues to coo in a voice that makes Hoseok cringe. “What’s wrong?”

Jaebum on the line sighs tiredly. “Just get it done for me.” And the next second, the line is dead.

“OH MY GOOOOOOOD.” Hoseok slams his head on his desk, trying to kill the rage inside of him that threatens to launch the phone at the wall. No matter how much he’s thought about it, he still can’t understand how you got caught with such an asshole. Some part of him wants to find his client and choke him silly until he’s gone blue.

“What’s up with him?” Insung frowns, entering the office.

“Oh.” Taehee grins, looking on in amusement. “His victim is an old friend and he didn’t manage to do the job in one go.”

“He didn’t?” Insung’s jaw drops. “You’re suppose to do it with one meeting.”

Hoseok who overhears barely mumbles past his lips. “I couldn’t do it.”

“So you’re gonna have to meet up with her again?”

There’s a long pause before he groans. “Yeah.”

Taehee smiles with pity. “If you want I can do it for you.”

“No.” Hoseok shakes his head, finally straightening out his spine. “I know her so I’ll be able to do it without causing much damage.”

“Isn’t that the problem? That you know her?” Insung gives him a look. “Remember the band-aid policy! Just quick and easy. It hurts less that way.”

“When are you meeting up with her again?” Taehee interjects with curiosity.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Well get it done soon! And don’t somehow turn it into a date.” She teases but it just pains Hoseok even more.

“I’ll...I’ll try my best.”

//

He paces back and forth relentlessly, nibbling on his lip as he wonders how he’ll ever go about breaking the terrible news to you. This is close to one of the most painful experiences he’s ever had. When he danced until his feet gave out on him, it was more of a physical pain but still his mind felt the exhilaration. This time, he’s just in complete mental pain, heart aching and wrenching as he practices the lines he’ll spit out at you.

‘So it’s a total coincidence that we were best friends a decade ago but what wasn’t a coincidence was me running into you. Hahaha...isn’t life kind of funny? But Y/N, I was hired by your boyfriend to break up with you. The jerk didn’t want to do it himself so now I’m doing it! By the way, that crush I had back then might totally be coming back right now so, no pressure at all. You deserve the best and I’m pretty sure you love this guy and here I am with my feelings. Great! This is just fantastic!’

Insung and Taehee look on in concern but they merely wave when it’s time to clock out. Hoseok continues to pace back and forth, mumbling under his breath after he promises he’ll lock up the office when he’s done. What he’s least expecting is a sudden phone call, a vibration and a ring that scares him shitless. He can’t be blamed though, the office is in a sketchy area and it is dark outside.

“H-hello?” He frowns, having already seen your caller ID and the smiling picture of the two of you used as your contact photo.

There’s silence and then a sniffle. “H-Hoseok?”

He immediately springs up, grabbing his coat from the rack. “Y/N? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know where I am and-”

“Y/N.” He’s never sounded more serious, lips tight in a line with furrowed brows. Hoseok switches off the lights in the office and leaves with shoes barely on his feet, locking up the doors as fast as he can. “Where are you?”

//

You had more plans with your boyfriend, a date night to make up for the last time he bailed but low and behold, he didn’t show up again. Then you were on the street, all dressed up in the middle of the night and to avoid a complete break down, you started walking aimlessly. You waked until you felt more pain with your heels digging at the skin of your feet than the anguish in your soul. Sure you avoided a complete mental breakdown in public but then you were in the middle of nowhere and you certainly didn’t want to be alone. Scrolling through your contacts, you couldn’t fathom why there was no one you could rely on; that is until Hoseok’s name showed up.

He came in a heartbeat and now you were sitting in his toasty car, looking out the window with misty eyes and immense guilt. You were terrible. You used him. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” He replies seriously, all traces of playfulness and joking around dead behind his dark pupils. It takes everything within Hoseok’s being to not pound the steering wheel in blind rage and find out where this asshole of your boyfriend lived so he could punch the living daylights out of him.

Though you feel wrong for calling Hoseok as a lift and some company, little did you know that he would even run on his two feet to you.

He inhales a deep breath, filling his lungs to calm down. “Are you busy tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” You turn to stare at his profile. “No. Why?”

“Good.”

Hoseok doesn’t answer your question or even utter words after that and you muse how serious the mischievous man can get. He doesn’t smile and keeps his lips tilted downwards and you repress the urge to lean over to pull on his cheek. You wish he would grin, it would certainly make you feel a whole lot better to see his usual cheerfulness.

“What. is. this?” You laugh for the first time that night, staring at the movie tickets in your hand.

“Let’s go.” He grabs your other hand, pulling you along but he steals another glance at your grin and a tiny smile sneaks up his own lips.

“You’re going to piss yourself!”

“I’m not seven years old anymore.” He whines out. “I can control my bladder. Can you control yours?”

You scoff, entering the dark movie theater and plopping down in the very front row. “You can hold my hand if you get too scared.” Hoseok leans over, whispering in your ear and you ignore the goosebumps that raise along your arms.

“As if.” You roll your eyes and he grins, dimples dotting both sides of his cheeks like you wished to see.

Hoseok figured what better way for you to take your mind off your asshole boyfriend than a horror movie at midnight in theaters with the giant screen and surround sound speakers. What he doesn’t take into account is how scared he’ll actually be.

Even when your heart stops beating for a moment, Hoseok’s shrill scream breaks your fears. You actually begin to hysterically laugh at how his screaming rivals that of the main characters of the movie, both sounding at the same time, high pitched and piercing. With the way you’re laughing, people outside might think that the movie is actually a comedy and with the way Hoseok yells, people would think that he’s the one getting murdered. You’re sure people behind the both of you are shooting you odd looks but your stomach aches too much as you’re doubling over in your seat to look behind you.

You’re still laughing by the time you leave, jaw and cheeks completely numb. Hoseok is an absolute mess, hair like a bird’s nest, sweat built on his forehead and cheeks stained with what you’re sure are tears - his mouth can’t even close properly. It’s worse than the time the both of you rode the tallest rollercoaster in the country. “Are you going to throw up?” You ask in concern, reaching up and moving away a strand of his hair. He blinks once at you and sighs.

“No. I’m okay. I might not be able to sleep tonight though.” He looks forward, bee-lining out the theater. “Or for the rest of my life.”

“You owe me one.” You protest to him.

“What? Why?”

“You know I hate horror movies!” You pout and he matches it, cutely with his bottom lip jutting out.

“But Y/N-ie. You weren’t even that scared.” He frowns, looking away with a hmph. “I suffered way more than you did.”

You laugh. “Who ever told you to bring me to a horror movie?”

Truth be told, you really didn’t get that scared earlier. You aren’t even sure what the movie was about. More importantly, it completely slipped your mind why you were so upset earlier-

“Oh.” His feet stop as he points to a 24-hour open grocery store on the other side of the street. “I need a few things…”

He hesitantly looks at you and you shrug. “Might as well get them while we’re here.”

Hoseok grins and the both of you don’t realize how it’s close to 3 am.

“What do you need?” You ask him, leaning against the shopping cart and pushing it behind him. Hoseok walks with hands behind his back, gazing at the shelves without actually picking anything out.

“Just groceries.” He turns around with a slight smile before his eyes catch something. “Oh! Do you remember this? We ate-”

“-it in grade three!” You finish off, standing straight and looking at the box of gummy bear candies. “My mom used to buy them all the time and you would-”

“-steal them from you.” He grins at you, throwing it into the cart and buying them for old time’s sakes. “For the record, you gave them to me.”

“Once.” You retort, lightly pushing the cart into his butt. “Then after that you just took them out of my lunchbag.”

“It’s not like you minded~” His voice rings out, taking a turn into another aisle.

“I did mind!”

“Let’s just say it was compensation for all the times you teased me.” He moves you aside, taking control of the shopping cart and you scoff lightly, jabbing his arm with your elbow.

“I didn’t even tease you that much.” You raise your head, purposely not looking at how he stares at you with a mischievous grin. “I saved you from the other bullies.”

“Because you were a bigger bully.”

“Was not!”

“You still are!”

Before you can even retort, Hoseok races off while pushing the shopping cart down the aisle. You’re stunned for a second before shouting out loud and chasing him down, the both of you engaged in some sort of tag game. The grocery store is completely empty aside from the occasional sleepy worker being jolted awake from your laughter and the odd, tired person grabbing something quick. When you end up at the toy section, he throws a ball at you and the both of you end up playing dodge ball for five minutes. When he disappears and you go looking for him, calling out his name in exasperation, you find him in the freezer of the frozen food section with a frozen big smile.

At some point, you even end up standing at the edge of the shopping cart as Hoseok pushes you as you point to where to go. He ends up running and giving the cart a big shove, making you scream as it rolls down half the store with you still on it. Thankfully it doesn’t flip over.

By the time it’s over and an exhausted college student checks your items out, two hours have passed and you’re not exactly sure what he bought.

“Are you hungry?” Hoseok suddenly asks as you leave the store and you follow his line of vision to the fast food restaurant next door.

You hum for a second with a tiny smile and he waits for your answer with a pout, slowly becoming more exaggerated with more time that passes. “I guesssssssssss I could grab a bite.”

“Let’s go~!” He declares in an opera voice, holding up the bag of groceries as you laugh.

The both of you stare at the menu for a while until you finally order, the restaurant having one cashier looking bored out of their mind, scrolling on their phone. There’s a drunk couple giggling in one corner and a homeless man reading the newspaper in the other. You and Hoseok steal a booth next to the windows.

He protests when you steal his fries but then he swipes your drink and sips it. You sit on your knees, lunging at him from across the table and giving him a good old noogie, despite his loud giggles. Hoseok feeds you chicken nuggets, purposely missing your mouth and getting ketchup all over your lips. As he laughs, you slap him with a fry that goes flinging across the restaurant.

“Oops.” You give him a fake smile, wiping away your mouth on a napkin and he gapes at you. With a loud ahem from the cashier, noticing how you’ve thrown food, the two of you shoot an apology and he goes back to scrolling through his phone, not really caring.

You’re sure you look like a mess - the hair you styled is now completely flat and sticking upwards, your makeup completely smudged, making you look like a racoon with your dark circles showing through and your dress now stained with mustard. But unlike how Jaebum wouldn’t want to touch you while you’re in such a state, Hoseok doesn’t even seem to notice. He continues teasing you and laughing as if nothing’s out of the ordinary.

Truthfully, he secretly even likes it better that you’re messy.

“Holy shit.” You’re back in his car, turning on your phone after shutting it off hours earlier. “It’s six in the morning!”

“Really?” He shoots you a glance and a grin of disbelief before looking over his shoulder to signal to the next lane.

“What the hell?” You laugh as if it’s the second funniest thing that’s happened all day (the first being in the movie theater and Hoseok’s screaming). “I swear….how does time pass so quickly when I’m with you.”

“Y/N.” Hoseok says seriously, brows knitting together.

“What?” You put your phone down, staring at his profile.

“I need to tell you the truth.”

“What is it?”

There’s a long silence before there’s a drawn out sigh that leaves his lips.

“I’m a time warper.”

“Oh, shut up!” You giggle, pushing his arm.

“YAH!” He shouts, startling you. “Can you not see I’m driving?!”

“Sorry.” You can’t help the smile that raises on your lips. “Oh. I think the sun’s going to rise soon.”

There’s a pause as you stare up through the windshield at the faint blue sky sheathing the stars and shattering the darkness through wisps of sunlight, the moon already fallen. There’s a dullness in your bones, a sort of exhaustion that has settled all around your body but you aren’t sleepy or tired in the least bit. Instead, you feel wide awake and more alert than you’ve ever felt before, taking a glance at Hoseok.

“Do you want to watch the sunrise?” He asks in a smile, taking a glance too before turning back onto the road.  

“That would be nice.”

And as if your words were his command, he pulls over on the highway. The both of you get out of the car, leaning against the railing as you watch the sunrise from across the high rise buildings. There’s no one around, no cars moving past but a comfortable silence and peacefulness that couldn’t be broken with pins dropping onto the pavement.

The day is breaking, dawn rising and the bright sun erupts from the horizon within minutes. When you turn to Hoseok, you find him already staring at you. It takes less than a heartbeat for a gentle smile to burst on his lips and one that makes your chest ache, not painfully for once.

The luminescence of rays casts a warm glow onto his skin and neither of you can break the gaze. “Are you ready to go?” He calls out softly, waltzing you away from your trance.

You can only manage a slight nod before getting back into the car in silence, any other thought disappearing inside your mind. Without him, you would’ve gone home and wallowed alone in tears while questioning what you ever did wrong. You can’t help but feel thankful for Hoseok being there for you and at the same time, pondering what else it is that you feel.

Whatever it is, it’s making your heart flutter uncontrollably.

//

Zero phone calls, zero texts, zero apologies - you were ashamed to admit that this wasn’t unusual. You even wondered if Jaebum even knew that the both of you had a date, that he had forgotten and how you were left in the dust, on the side of the road. After the two years you had spent together was this it? Where did you go wrong? Was there anything that you could’ve done more of to save your relationship? At what point did he stop loving you? At what point did he stop caring? And at what point would you finally be able to let him go?

Hoseok receives a few messages from you, a back and forth light conversation but he can tell how hurt you are with your slow and unenthusiastic responses. You certainly don’t give into his teasing or even play along with it. And after receiving yet another angry phone call from Jaebum as to why you were still hung up on him, Hoseok knew that he had to end your suffering. It pained him to see you with such a guy who completely disregarded you and made you so unhappy. He couldn’t stand by and watch anymore - even if it pained him more that he was the one who had to say it.

“Y/N. Can I talk to you?”

There’s some stiff laughter on the other line that he knows is all too fake. “You’re talking to me now.”

“In person.”

“I don’t really feel like leaving the house, Hoseok.”

“Please….it’s really important.”

There’s a long silence before you clear your throat. “Where?”

//

It’s the same coffee shop that the both of you coincidentally reunited at, the same table in the corner and the same position in seats. There’s not many people around but the occasional chime of the bell when a customer enters for an order.

Hoseok sits down from across the table, directly in front of you without even a trace of his usual playfulness. There is no smile, no grin, no dimples and it’s starting to scare you. “What’s wrong?” You manage a tight smile that strains your cheeks.

He doesn’t answer except for his eyes flickering to yours, boring in a serious stare that makes your palms clammy. “You’re scaring me…” You admit in a weaker voice and he sighs, digging in his pocket for something.

“Remember how you asked me where I worked and I sort of brushed you off?”

“Yeah?”

He pulls out a business card, sliding it over to you. It reads in big letters - ‘The Breakup Bureau’.

“Hoseok…”

He throws out every single rule that he’s ever learnt, every single proper way to end a relationship with minimal damage and instead, he speaks straight from the heart.

“The day we ran into each other coincidentally wasn’t coincidentally. I was hired by your boyfriend, Jaebum, to-”

“-break up with me.” You laugh out without it reaching your eyes, holding the thin business card between your fingers. Your voice can only manage a tiny whisper that chokes through your constricting throat. “The bastard couldn’t even do it himself.”

Hoseok grimaces, rubbing his hands over his thighs and repressing the urge to hold yours in comfort. “Y/N, I truly mean it when I say it...you deserve the best. You seriously deserve everything and more.”

“Yeah…” You nod gradually, still staring as the words of the business card as it entrenches into your mind.

‘The Breakup Bureau’.

“Do you know why?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “He didn’t say anything.”

“Was there someone else?”

There’s a long silence before Hoseok decides to be as honest as he can. “Probably.”

All the words slowly sink into your skin and it feels like the entire world has been ripped away, only you falling back into your seat with Hoseok on the other side. It physically pains him to see you breaking into pieces while he’s completely helpless right in front of you. It’s as if you’re glass shattering between his fingertips.

He’s holding back his own tears from spilling.

It’s worse than he had ever imagined. It’s his worst nightmare.

He can’t help but think that if it were him...if it were him….he would never make you feel this way. Hoseok would rather die than hurt you.

“You’ll meet someone who can make you happy.” His voice cracks as he speaks and he bites back, slowly taking a deep breath as he blinks back his hazy eyes. He speaks sincerely and genuinely, the most he has in years. “You’ll meet someone who will love you more than they can ever imagine. To the point that it’ll scare them.”

“Is it really over then?” You whisper and he nods with a weak voice.

“Yes.”

You laugh. You laugh because there’s nothing more that you can do. Hoseok wishes you would curse, scream or vow revenge but instead you sit calmly and quietly, crumbling from within. “I’m sorry he brought you into the middle of this. He should’ve done it himself...”

“I don’t want you to be hurt.”

“I don’t think you can really control that.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It isn’t yours either…” You smile. “...so don’t look at me like that.”

If a stranger were to look on, they would think that the two of you were the ones going through the breakup. The expression Hoseok gives you is one of pure distress and hurt. You think his smile or grin suits him a lot more, dimples on both sides of his cheeks; you have a sudden urge to see it.

With a sigh, you get up from the table. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know.” You answer truthfully.

“Then tell me you’ll be okay.”

You shake your head, heart aching with pain. “Time will tell.”  

As you step foot out of the coffee shop, you turn back to Hoseok who’s still following you with his eyes and the knot between his brows is still knitted deep in worry. You smile softly at him, mustering up a wave. “Goodbye Hoseok.”

//

Maybe you should’ve been less dense. The signs were all there but you brushed them off as nothing, hoping that it would get better or somehow things would improve. He didn’t treat you the way you knew you deserved, he didn’t care as much as you did. Somewhere along the way, things had gone amiss but you purposely turned a blind eye.

“Y/N? W-what are you doing here?” Jaebum stands shocked in his living room, barely covered in clothes.

“Who is it?” A voice belonging to a woman echos from his bedroom.

You sigh with a shake of your head, cutting straight to the point. “You’re a coward. You should’ve told me yourself.”

“I-I….” He blinks at you with wide eyes, shell shocked and maybe a bit embarrassed or ashamed. You can’t believe you spent two years with an asshole like him. “I..uh...sorry?”

You smile at him and he is absolutely stunned. “You know, I wondered a lot where things went wrong between us. I spent a lot of nights by myself, just thinking about it and I cried too.” You shake your head with another gentle exhale. “I’m not proud of wasting those tears on you but you know, I really don’t think I did anything wrong.”

You face him, eyes connected without wavering for a second. “I loved you and I cared about you so much. There wasn’t even a moment that went by that I didn’t think of you...until recently.”

“Y/N…” He’s shocked, at an absolute loss for words.

“I hope you live well.” You turn to his bedroom. “And treat whoever she is, you should treat her well too. Don’t be a coward in your next relationship. If there’s something you want to say, you should just say it.”

“Have a good life, Jaebum.” You smile again. “Maybe I’ll see you around someday. Bye.”

And you leave without a second glance back, shutting his front door softly before walking off.

It takes multiple deep breaths for you to calm down and you nearly trip on the stairwell, catching yourself on the railing and sitting down at the steps. Your chest is tight, nearly feeling like it will burst and you feel like your throat is closing up, that you’ll suffocate to death. It’s painful but you don’t feel sad at all.

It surprises you and certainly surprises Jaebum. You’ve imagined it happening before, that you would be a complete mess and run into his apartment screaming. You’d thrash and break his things, throw everything away and sob until your eyes would run dry. You’d think of ways to make him feel guilty, ways to take your revenge and ways that would possibly bring him back.

But more than grief-stricken and heartbroken, you feel disappointed in yourself for being such an idiot and wasting your time.

You would’ve been completely lost and broken but you’re not.

You only have Hoseok to thank.

[A Few Months Later]

The sweet aroma of vanilla and bitter scent of coffee swirls through the air. The bell chimes to signal each customer entering or leaving. The low chatter continues, the cashier taking people’s orders and barista mixing drinks. The sunlight seeps into the windows and smiling doesn’t take too much strength anymore.

“Caramel macchiato for….” The worker squints at the cup before announcing loudly- “...for Hobi, Hobi, Hobi~?”

“I’m here.” He jogs up from his spot at the table, putting his phone in his back pocket. “Thanks.”

“Hoseok?” You turn around with a grin, coincidentally waiting for your drink too.

“Y/N?” He matches your bright smile, eyes crinkling and dimples on both sides of his cheek. “What are you doing here?”

“Ordering something before heading off to work.” You laugh. “Did you seriously say your name was Hobi-Hobi-Hobi?”

He shrugs mischievously. “I thought why not.”

You shake your head with a huge smile before the barista calls out- “White chocolate mocha latte for Y/N?”

“I’m here.” You smile at her. “Thanks.”

As you grab your drink, both you and Hoseok begin walking down the street together, heading in the same direction. With your curious glance, he lets you have a sip of his drink and you let him take a sip of yours. Somehow the both of you end up trading completely but he doesn’t mind and neither do you.

“Hey. You still owe me one.”

“What?” He grins warmly.

“From that time you dragged me to a horror movie!” You fake a pout as he laughs. “Remember?”

“I remember.”

“Then what do you think of tonight?” You lean in, blinking your eyes and batting your eyelashes. “If you’re not busy, take me out to another one and maybe we can call it even.”

He beams at you. “But what if I want to take you out to dinner too?”

“Then I’ll owe you one.” You shrug. “Guess I’d have to take you out for dinner another day after that. What do you say?”

Hoseok hums a really long note, making you wait in anticipation until you stop walking completely, no longer smiling but giving him an unimpressed expression. He laughs before pouting at you and then a smile bursts through his lips. “I’d love to.”

Saying goodbye is never easy.

Hoseok’s just glad he never has to do it with you.

[berreline]

My travel to Japan

As an Introvert with anxiety

Day 1, Part 2 Aka. The Heart  Incident.

Recapping what happened in part one: I arrived, was amazed, then I panicked, sat down and got some food to gather my thoughts, and everything was actually just fine!

Surviving my firs proper face to face transaction, I was a bit more motivated to face the world. Still, had I known the mistake I was about make, I would have gone back to my hotel room and leave the day at that. Life, however, is full of blunders. It is somehow what some people think makes life more «fun» and «interesting». I’ll take the comfort of my bedroom any day than facing trials and failures. Alas that is not how life actually works. Sometimes stupid things happen regardless of how your day is going. Yet, without blunders, there won’t be any stories to tell. I survived it, yes, but it was not the way I imagined the day would end.

Before going back to the hotel I wanted to visit Ueno Park. The sun was already starting to go down around 3:30pm, so by the time I got out of the subway, it had already gone down. And it was now slightly raining. What met me instead was the bright lights of the Ameye Yokocho Shooping Street(..damn, why do the places have such long and difficult names! *Travel Tip: Write down the names of where you want to go, or at least have them saved on google maps before heading out, or you’ll get lost!) My plans was to walk around there anyway, and since the sun was gone, I decided to leave Ueno Park for a different day. I went into the crowd of Ameye Yokocho and I absolutely fell in love with the place. Not exactly the Shopping Street it self, but Ueno in general. With small shops under the train tracks, the people, the restaurants in the tiny alleys, and not to mention the smell of the food! The atmosphere and the general feeling of the place is unique. I actually prefer big crowds when I’m alone. It makes it more easier to ignore the other people and not worrying about getting noticed. As a turist you are bound to stikk out regardless, but with so many people, you’ll never quite know if someone notices you or not. Which is more comforting than making eye contact. (*Yes, here I am, hi, I’ll just give you an awkward smile and move on, even though you might not even reciprocate my tiny attempt at greeting you and I will definitely think this whole situation more awkward than it actually was, as I’m sure I had something in my face anyway….) … I did mention social anxiety is part of the whole anxiety package, right?

The whole place had the kind of dystopian/futuristic vibe I’ve been searching for, and ended up becoming my favorite place in Tokyo, as you will later see. Kinda wrong to be saying that on the first day, but I somehow ended up there more than once during my trip, and each time I found something new to love. After a while I wanted to sitt down and have a proper Japanese beer with something to eat. Now, before I tell you this, remember what I said about only having pictures on the menus to go for? Forget that completely! As I would soon discover, and a lesson for next time; either go for what you definitely know, be adventurous, learn the language, or when asking for recommendations, LISTEN to the damn waiter!

Ok, so I found this small bar/Izakaya under the railroad. Awesome, I thought, this is so cool! Heading inside of a dimly litt place, with tiny stalls, I was greeted by the waiter and given a smal table to myself. Staring down on the menu in a bit of confusion, I’m trying to decipher what the images are, searching to find something that looks even vaguely familiar. Before making a decision, the waitress was back, still not managing to recognize anything on the few menus with images on them. There wasn’t many.

 We both had language barriers. With my terrible Japanese, and her also not knowing that much English, I figured there wasn’t much point in discussing the options. So I do the polite thing, in my more than slightly broken Japanese: «Osusume wa nan desk ka?»/«What do you recommend?». I hoped she would say something with the word «Niku»/«Meat». Instead the I only heard the word «Sakana»/«Fish». Now, had I been a smart cookie, I would have taken that offer. HOWEVER, I then instead tried to ask if there wasn’t anything else as I really didn’t have the appetite for fish at that moment. I was hungry and wanted some heavy meat. Having the miscommunication dragging on and getting more awkward (mostly on my part), I just wanted to get it over with. I turn to the menu and pointed to what in my mind looked more like grilled skewers and a more «safe» option (….you know where I’m going with this?)

The waitress must have felt the situation awkward as well, no longer wanting to explain things to me, took my order and went along. I then sitt there relieved and anticipating some grilled meat. What happened next may have made me the dumbest tourist of the year.   

It’s not the waitress who comes with my food. It’s the chef, holding a small platter with a tiny skewer of what appears to be uncooked meat.               Oh…..k, exactly What did I order now??. Without missing a beat, he says:  «This is…*tiny pause, trying to find the right word I guess, or judging me silently*… heart.» If I didn’t have some slight self control, I would have fallen off that bar stool. My eyes just widen as my own heart sinks into my stomach. Damn. I’m not entirely sure what it says about me in general, but I felt that I seriously could NOT back down from this. NOT after disregarding the recommendation from the waitress, not specifically wanting this pice. I HAD POINTED TO IT. I was not going to disrespect a chef on my FIRST night out eating! 

So I just nod, and go: «Oh, ok, thanks!» as he puts it down in front of me and leaves for the kitchen again. Besides me sist three business men enjoying their food after a long day at the office, I presume. In front of me, small square pieces of raw heart meat lying skewered on a plate. With some sauce. I was not going to make a fool of my self on the very first day, so I decided to just take it. This was my fault, so I had to take the consequence (*though I’d wished the waitress could at LEAST have warned me WHAT I was getting myself into…)      I chomp it down, surprisingly not gaging of the taste, as it actually had the general flavor of regular meat. Just a tiiiiny bit more chewy in texture.

Not trying to look over at the three business men, as I imagine they just got a bit of a show of a clueless traveler (not to mention what the chef must be thinking), I somehow felt quite brave… and stupid at the same time. How in the world was I able to order HEART on my first day in Japan. HOW? I know that it is not to unfamiliar in certain places in the world, but on my bucket list of foods I was going to try in Japan, I’m pretty sure frigging heart wasn’t on it!

Still, I did it, it went down, and took the rest of the time to really enjoy my Asahi beer. It wasn’t a big filling, but I really felt like I had overstayed my welcome, and didn’t want to embarrass myself any further by making any more orders!  So I paid my bill and said my thanks, and was out the door again. Heading back to the metro and going to the comforts of my hotel. Safely back, I went straight to bed and enjoyed a dessert I bought along the way, and let the whole day just sink in! I was ready to face the next day. COME AT ME!

An that’s the first day! Lessons learned: Don’t get flustered of the sudden culture change, you’ll make it somehow. Take risks and be open to new things, and always ALWAYS listen to the waiter. I will not be making that same mistake again! At least I can say I’ve eaten heart though….

Sorry for the long post! Hope you liked my little rambling there, and I will be back with Day 2 soon! I thought the trip would be easy from there. Oh how wrong I was, as nothing could have prepared me for what to come.