#angst is perhaps a strong word but i don't know how else to describe the vastness of the emotions at work here

[theaggresivepacifist]

I’m here and BACK WITH ANGSTY NEW FIC

Summary: Somehow, Hwang Si-mok is usually present for the worst moments of Kang Won-chul’s professional life, and vice versa. Missing scenes from S1, and after.

3.3k, complete, tw for suicide mention. 

[lunarw0rks]

Hello! I just found your blog and I just started reading everything I saw 😅. Can I request 141 + König + Alejandro with a pregnant reader? They don't know yet and when the reader will break the news they are really stressed with work and end up taking it out on the reader, they end up getting into an argument and saying they hate the reader and that their life would be so much better without the reader in it (😈). The reader takes this seriously and leaves when they are asleep... Months later they meet again when the reader is on her way to the hospital to give birth (😈). Angst to fluff pls. If you don't feel good about writing or it's too big, that's fine. Have a nice day and thank you so much for all the time you spend writing to us.

The Things We Say // 141 Drabble

Summary: You're expecting, but it's not good news. To him, at least. Your relationship takes a hit, but once he meets your child, he's swallowed with regret for how he treated you.

Warning(s): angst to fluff, hurt/comfort, pregnancy, childbirth, mentions of premature birth/complications, mild injury/blood, strong language, established relationship, fem!Reader, no use of y/n

A/N: I was hurting my own feelings---but, there's fluff after the angst, so don't get too upset besties<3 Hope you don't mind anon, I took some creative liberty because I didn't want them all to have the same plotline. | Word Count: 5.9k

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ 141 MASTERLIST // have a request? ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ ao3 ver.

SYNOPSIS; he had been in the thick of it lately, sometimes more overwrought when at home with you than in active combat, it seemed. Conversations were either abrupt, crude, or nonexistent—often just building on top of the tension building between the two of you. Relationships were supposed to be fifty-fifty, but you felt you were carrying the burden of the whole percentage. That’s why the news couldn’t have come at a worse time—you, staring at the two lines instead of one. No matter how long you stared, double-checked the diagram, the answer was the same. Pregnant. So, now you knew two things for certain, you were expecting, and most heartbreaking—the other one responsible was at his worst. To break the news to him, it took every fiber of your being.

⋘ » ☆ « ⋙

AFTERMATH; nine months of hell. That’s how you would answer if someone asked. Few people did though, even at work or out on the street. There was the occasional boy or girl, how are you feeling. But they were being polite, or taking pity on the pregnant woman without a ring on her finger. The pregnant woman with bags under her eyes, the one who winces with each step because she’s ready to pop. None of it meant anything to you, because the other half of this responsibility had been left in the dark, and not for much longer. You weren’t raising this child alone, no matter how irate he was going to be when you contacted him.

Price

One of John’s many talents; stewing on his feelings, keeping them suppressed for an unnatural amount of time.

Often so long that he forgot about the source of his anger once he had time to catch up to them. That is… Until his work was involved. Then he was an entirely different man, often spending his time deep in a bottle and with a nose deep in paperwork, with little regard for anyone else around him.

His control, it was typically so consistent, that he knew not to bring his professional problems home. But lately? It’s been anything but typical. He wasn’t what you would call mean, but there was definitely a negative word to describe it. Cold? Apathetic? Perhaps even unwelcoming?

The bickering, if you could call it that, had droned on for several minutes now. Though, it was mostly you venting your frustrations to an uninterested Price. ❝I know it’s not good timing, John. Why the fuck do you think I’m in here trying to reason with you? Are we just supposed to ignore this until we can’t anymore?❞ You hissed, tempted to rip the paperwork from his grip to get him to pay attention.

He always wanted children, but not right now. Naturally, that’s when it happened. He felt like he was drowning, at first only professionally, but now personally too. The funds weren’t a problem, the kid had two parents, but… you and him—nothing was working.

❝Sweetheart, I’m in the thick of it right now. Please.❞ He didn’t need to raise his voice for you to see how irritated he was. Perhaps at the baby, you, himself, or all the above. ❝I have a meeting.❞ He stood up from his workspace, steaming coffee in hand.

John walked away from you like you were a pestering soldier, not the mother of his child. Enough was enough.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

He thought he was slick, only giving you physical checks to see your face, to ensure that you were indeed alright. It was often the coffee shop within equal walking distance of your two separate homes. John would always slide the amount you needed across the table, a look of remorse on his face. Each monthly meeting, your stomach would grow in size, as did your drained expression.

But you wouldn’t talk to him. You would only text him the amount, nod when he asked questions. It was the worst torture you could put a man like John through—one that needed the approval of his loved ones. It just couldn’t happen, not yet. The wounds of how he treated you, they were too fresh, even after nine months of this routine.

To be truthful, you debated on even calling him when you went into labor. You could do it alone, right? With just the support of the delivery nurses, and most of all your baby girl as the reward? Perhaps you could wait until after, give him the respect to at least meet his daughter. For someone not carrying a child, he looked just as beat; sunken eyes, less tidy facial hair than usual, and somehow even more tobacco on his breath.

John was clawing himself from the inside out, begging for something other than a “yes” or “no” from your lips.

—

❝I can’t do this,❞ you repeated it about fifty times, tears streaming down your cheeks from both the pain and the distraught feelings. That plan you had to not call him, it was falling through quite quickly. This level of agony? You needed someone other than a doctor. You needed the father, as much as it pained you to admit.

❝Yes, you can dear, women have babies everyday.❞ Bless the nurse, she was trying her best to keep you calm, but it didn’t work.

What if something went wrong? If somehow you didn’t make it but your baby girl did, she would be alone until he got here… That couldn’t, no—wouldn’t happen. He needed to be there, right beside this bed to hold her in case you couldn’t.

In between your pained grunts, you finally spit out what you’d been trying to tell her, finding a split second of sensibility during all this distress. ❝Call… John. Please, call him!❞

—

The doors swung open faster than any of the personnel, his gaze softening when he saw you breathing in a patterned fashion. The nurse beside you gave him a nod, freeing your hand for him to take her place. John wasn’t going to miss this, and frankly, he was irked that he almost did. But he wasn’t irked at you; he was irked at himself for taking this for granted.

His soothing voice talks you through each contraction, a soothing hand dabbing away the sweat and tears streaming down your face.

❝I got you, sweetheart. You’re almost done pushing.❞ Though he looked gruff on the outside, inside he was distraught. You had maintained the cold shoulder throughout the pregnancy, but you still called him here? You were more than he deserved in his eyes.

The last round of pushing, and they were close together now. You had about thirty seconds to say this, before you were screaming again.❝I’m glad you’re here.❞ Despite all the pain you were in, you gave his hand a squeeze, staring at him with a glossy expression.

His eyes nearly watered; the first sentence you had uttered to him in months, and it was clear you meant every bit of it. You needed him and so did your daughter, right here right now. He pressed a kiss to your temple, a soothing massaging your shoulder.

John kept his tone firm on purpose, to emphasize how deeply he cared for you right now. ❝I’ll always be here for you, love. Always.❞ 

Simon

Simon loved deep; hated even deeper.

It was one of the features that drew you to him in the first place, how blunt he could be, how his broodiness contrasted your personality in more ways than one. His cynical behavior could be humorous, could be reassuring, but most of all—bitter. To add stress to the equation, to bring it home? He was an explosive disaster waiting to happen.

❝Simon,❞ you approached from behind, holding the test in your hands, because you knew the first question he would ask when you told him; is if you took one. Well, if he wasn’t actively cursing under his breath, he would’ve.

Instead, he merely flicked his eyes over for a brief moment, as if you were a stranger on the street that said excuse me. ❝Simon.❞ Your tone grew firmer, clutching the stick with more apprehension.

❝Bloody Christ, what?❞ He shifted in his seat, bloodshot and hooded eyes that only twisted the knife further. You couldn’t tell him now, not with the pressure of being on the spot. The right words just wouldn’t come out, prompting you to put the stick behind your back. ❝Goddamn nuisance.❞ He muttered under his breath as if it was only supposed to be an internal thought. 

Though, he didn’t look all that remorseful about it—at least on the outside.

He had never said anything like that before, at least not to your face. It seemed, all the weeks of tension and cold shoulder, it was enough. You were done and out the door the second he’d dozed.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Simon made a few futile attempts to reach out, but his own stubbornness prevented him from ever being face-to-face. He beat himself up so badly, and from his side of things—he’d only lost one person, not two.

It pained you to ask the delivery nurse to call him. You wanted to shove the crowning newborn right back inside and hold off, to go find him yourself and smack sense into him for putting you through this agony. But you couldn’t. Quite literally couldn’t get up, and didn’t want to. Resulting in pettiness and venom would make you worse than him because you would be using this child as a pawn.

He said nothing, but his eyes said enough. The nurses put a sterile drape over his shoulders, but he paid them no mind. His amber eyes remained on you; a bulging belly and an expression of pure agony. Had he missed something, a crucial chapter of your new life post-breakup? Most of all, why did you call him?

❝Hold my hand.❞ Simon found the side of your bed, allowing you to dig your fingernails into his forearm until there were imprints. He had few words, but the countenance of concern and guilt said it all. If this wasn’t his… you would’ve done this alone, or the father would be here. Then it dawned on him; it was his.

—

Hours passed, and he still hadn’t mentioned the obvious. Nine months without his support—financial or moral. You needed rest, as did the baby girl—so you were getting it, first and foremost. The adult matters would be better talked about when you weren’t still freshly recovering.

Simon tapped his foot against the tile, sitting in the chair beside the bed. He was unsure of who to keep an eye on more; the newborn swaddled in her own crib, or you, exhaustedly sleeping in your hospital bed. Though he’d held the girl, it felt forbidden, like he was only a placeholder until your body recovered enough to do it yourself. It was shock preventing him from feeling, not cruelty.

You stirred awake, a sigh of contempt when you laid eyes on him. The labor was a blur your mind had already shut out, and you truly didn’t recall the nurses contacting him. Your eyes were glossy with dark circles underneath them. ❝I’m…❞ It was like the night you tried to tell him but couldn’t, the words wouldn’t come out.

Simon saw that look in your eyes; the fear that he would explode, or storm out and leave you with the child forever—but he wasn’t. All the years of trying to not relieve the same mistakes his own father made, it would be useless if he did that. And he couldn’t, seeing that look of desperation on your face, how you looked as if you were going to burst into tears at the sight of him. That look, it was the same one that gnawed at him during those months apart, how he found you and your belongings gone.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. ❝Shh… Don’t apologize. Ever.❞ He was hovering now, a kiss pressed to your forehead. Whatever you decided when you were healed enough, he would take it like a man, because he had the audacity to speak to you like a man who wronged him.

Soap

Soap was… a complicated man to say the least. Usually, he was sweet, charming, with the right amount of cockiness. His ability to make you laugh drew you into him in the first place. But it was dwindling—at least during the past few weeks. Now, all that remained was smugness and bitter mutters under the breath.

❝Don’t be a child about this, we’ll figure it out,❞ He says, slamming his car door behind you. The first time you two had been out to dinner together in weeks, spoiled because you finally broke the news to him. You teared up in the restaurant because his reaction was anything but accepting, and frankly, he found it embarrassing.

He hadn’t meant it that way—that’s just how it came out.

He truly did want to figure this baby thing out, but it was the worst possible timing; an all-time high of stress at work, bickering with you constantly. And now, a third added to the dynamic with only months to prepare? It was too much. ❝Oh, I’m acting like a child?❞ You walked into the house, taking off the jewelry you had on to look nice for him.

The bickering that ensued—it was nothing nice, nothing you’d care to remember.

❝I don’t want you to go, lass. Don’t do this.❞ You had already made up your mind. Perhaps it was your emotions clouding your judgment, that instinct you felt being a few weeks along… It didn’t matter, you couldn’t be here. Not with him, not right now.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

You were about to pop, literally any day now. You knew that meant you would have to talk to the father, and interact with him for about eighteen years—at least be civil. But the rationality of it, how you would have to co-parent with him, didn’t ease your anxieties. Of course, he was adamant about checking up on you and being more of a parasite than the fetus taking half your energy.

You closed the car door with your hip, a slow waddle up the pavement. Where the hell your keys were, that was another story—something you would deal with once you rolled yourself up to the door.

❝What the hell are you doin’?❞ The voice nearly made you drop all the grocery bags in your grasp, a jumpy shriek coming out. When you whipped around, it was Soap, a look of upset on his very expressive face.

Once you started to recover from the scare of a lifetime, an unintentional one at that, a scowl formed on your face. It was like he had a sense of the absolute worst time to show up and annoy you, especially now that you were swollen and extra agitated. ❝A phone call would’ve worked, Johnny. Or, I don’t know, maybe a ‘hey I’m right behind you, lady’!❞ You attempted to mock his accent out of pure frustration, but he didn’t find the humor in it, at least not right away.

He yanked the bags out of your grip, stomping up the steps of your porch. ❝You shouldn’t be carryin’ these.❞ You really should not be doing that, he was right, but the thought of him being your grocery boy—showing up even more? ❝Keys.❞ He held out his free hand, the other one swimming in bags. It was ridiculous, apparently, you weren’t allowed to twist a key now, either.

You shove past him once he’s turned the key, squeezing past and joining him in the kitchen. Without a word, he starts putting away anything and everything you bought. Some are nutritious, others purely to feed your cravings. ❝Don’t start.❞ You pointed a finger at him when he picked up a family-sized bag of candy, a smart-ass comment daring to escape his lips.

❝God, I can’t believe you, Johnny. Sneaking up on me like that, I could’ve fallen.❞ You put an instinctive hand on your stomach, still irked by his presence.

❝No, you would’ve fallen carrying all those bags yourself. I have a right to be worried, it’s my bloody kid too.❞ He retorts, a hand on his hip. He’s done all he’s obligated to now; carrying and putting away your groceries.

You tighten your lips into a line, fighting the urge to start a full-blown argument. ❝Yeah, you remind me every day, so thanks for tha— Shit.❞ It seemed, raising your voice counted as exerting yourself because there was a sudden cramp in your stomach, a trickle down your pant leg.

Soap’s eyes widened, seeing you go from scolding him to hunched over and holding your stomach. You had forced yourself into labor, now standing on knees about to buckle. ❝I’ve got you, now get going woman, before I put you over my shoulder.❞ He felt he had never moved faster, a tight fist around your forearm to keep you standing as he led you through the door you had just walked in.

—

It seemed there was little time between being admitted to actively pushing. This kid wanted out, and right this second. You let out a shriek as the back of your head slammed against the pillow, sweat trickling down your brow as you cursed and wailed. ❝I know it hurts, love, but you got this.❞ He allowed you to clamp down on his hand, to dig your fingertips until they drew blood.

❝Oh, you know do you?!❞ You snapped at him, finding it hard to be nice when you felt like you were being ripped in half.

❝If I wasn’t,❞ you grunted in between words, face scrunched and labored breathing, ❝stuck in this damn bed, I would so… hurt you right now, Johnny.❞ He fought the urge to snicker just a little bit, masking it with his concern for you. Seeing you in agony, even when you were actively snapping at him, it didn’t please him one bit.

Well, you were arguing with him, so he knew you weren’t actively dying.

If you used enough of that anger, it would help you literally push through the pain, just like how it caused the kid to want to come out right this second. For once, his pestering and sarcasm were actually helping.

With one final wave of it, your back arched off the bed and finally, the loud cry of an infant filled the white-walled room. Soap nearly fainted, if he was being honest—he was awfully squeamish for someone who dealt with blood daily. But it was your blood and… fluids, things that made him shiver when he pictured how painful that could’ve been.

The doctors were speedy, cleaning off and checking vitals. All he could do was stare at the newborn—his baby boy. And then he looked at you, choked up and stared in awe at the baby set on your chest. ❝Jesus…❞ he leaned down, placing a gentle hand on yours as it held the child’s head.

All the fighting, all the bickering, even the late-night candy runs—they were well worth it. He had a second chance now, to make things right with you, and to be a decent father.

Gaz

Gaz could be hotheaded, sometimes downright blunt, especially when he’s passionate about something to do with his work. The night you were going to break the news, nothing was going right. He came home in a huff, not bothering to take off his boots before plopping on the sofa. Kyle had a right to be stressed; look at what he does all day. But he didn’t have a right to be cruel to you because of it.

You took a seat beside him and set the positive test down on his thigh. A silence followed by a scowl, and then he finally spoke. ❝You can’t be serious.❞ It nearly gutted you right then and there. His leg began to bounce anxiously the longer he glanced at the life-changing test results. 

❝Kyle, I—❞ you weren’t even sure what you were trying to say either, not that he gave you a chance. ❝I don’t have time for this, babe. I really can’t do this right now.❞ He put his head in his hands, a flustered groan escaping his lips.

❝Are you saying you don’t want this? That we shouldn’t have done this?❞ You were suddenly standing, eyes wide and watering. You felt like you had just been dumped on the street, despite his unclear tone.

He peered up, lips in a blunt line. ❝Maybe we shouldn’t have.❞ You could’ve crawled into a hole and died right then and there, but you merely nodded. Nodded and then left the room, leaving him to his moodiness. No, it wasn’t the best timing, but that didn’t give him the right to brush you off, to treat you like a distasteful afterthought.

It wasn’t just you anymore, it was you and the baby.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

It was one of his few days off—though he wasn’t feeling much relaxation. You were still hot and cold with him, now about halfway through your third trimester; thirty-two weeks to be exact. It was nearing that point, where he had prepared a spare room for the baby, began coordinating plans for labor, etc… 

But he still didn’t feel ready, or like he deserved you after how cruel he was that night. Kyle was only helping you to help you and the baby.

His phone buzzed, right when he had begun relaxing for the evening. 10:32 PM; and it was your number. The second he heard the voice of a nurse on the other line, not yours, his feet were halfway out the front door.

—

❝I’m fine, Kyle. I’m fine…❞ It seemed no matter how many times you repeated it, he didn’t seem to believe it. From the minute he entered your hospital room to now, he had at least one hand on you, a thumb grazing the cuts and bruises on your body. You had been in a car accident—mild for you, life-threatening for a preemie. ❝You’re not fine.❞ he said firmly, eyes darting towards your clothes bagged in the corner—bloodied and with windshield pieces still embedded.

Kyle was more worried about you at first, but you were solely concerned about your baby—left alone in the NICU being poked and prodded by personnel. You had to be induced, otherwise he wouldn’t have made it past the front doors. Now, he was too weak to be visited, too small and vulnerable to be held by his own mother yet. It was gut-wrenching; hours without a solid answer, because his chances depended solely on him making it through the night.

Now, there was nothing to do but wait, perhaps see your baby through a glass box if you got lucky.

—

❝He’s perfect,❞ Kyle peered down at the preemie in his hands, a baggy blue cap on his head. There were small babies, and he was somehow smaller. What once was the scare of a lifetime, it was now a passing memory to remind Gaz of what he could’ve lost. He would never make the mistake of talking to you like that again, even if the two events didn’t correlate.

What if the night you left, you got into an accident then, and it was much worse? He wouldn’t be able to live with himself, plain and simple. ❝It’s cheesy but, he does have your eyes.❞ You whispered from the nursing chair you were sitting in, still healing and fatigued from the ordeal. The picture in front of you; Kyle looking at your son with such love—it was irreplaceable and forever stuck in your memories.

❝Correct. But he has your scowl, babe.❞ Gaz flicked his eyes upwards, feeling you gently nudge his shin at the sound of the comment.

It didn’t matter the things he said months ago, as long as he cherished this new life with you as much as you planned to.

Alejandro

Alejandro always had passion for the things he cherished; you and his work, nothing else mattered more. Passion led to intense feelings, intense feelings turned into misplaced bitterness. It wasn’t your fault that you were expecting, no more than it was his, at least. He knew that and had he just taken a breath and thought more carefully about his phrasing, this whole mess could’ve been avoided.

❝Do you think I wanted to interrupt you, Alejandro?❞ You hissed, standing in the doorway of his office with the positive test in your hands. He had just looked at you with such distaste as if you were the root cause of his stress and not his work.

What better way to stir the pot, than to match his wrath? Well, it certainly did that, though seeing him rage was the last sight you wanted to see. Alejandro always had trouble with his anger, often finding himself with all these feelings he had no clue how to control.

❝You always do what you want!❞ There it was, him blowing his fuse. He’d thrown his hands in the air, face tightened into a scowl. He couldn’t leave it at that, either, not when his rage came in such intense waves. ❝You’ll do what you always do—bleed me dry!❞

You couldn’t speak, despite how vicious you felt only seconds before. It seemed too truthful for your liking like he had been waiting for an excuse to spill his guts. ❝As long as you have enough to amuse yourself, I’m nothing to you, right?❞ He wasn’t yelling anymore, but his mocking tone was enough to tear at your heartstrings.

Had he seriously played that card with you—the man always insistent on taking care of you, financially, physically, emotionally? Now, of all times? The argument ended with you slamming the front door behind you, something he would’ve done.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

You spent weeks ignoring him, and throughout the pregnancy, it was dry texts or brief calls. His only sign that you were even alive was the notification that you had used his account to purchase necessities. The irony of it made Alejandro nauseous, how awful he made it sound that you were doing what he told you to; to let him take care of you. The fact that you didn’t drain the funds, only bought what you needed, spoke volumes.

❝I’m not upset at you, amor—I wasn’t upset with you.❞

Alejandro reached a hand across the picnic table, a firm but loving grip on your forearm. You looked beat; hair a different length than before, exhausted eyes that were brimming with tears, and most of all a growing stomach. It was all his fault; the reason you didn’t want to face him like this, in fear that he would cut you and the baby off for good. Only, he was there to see your face, not for confrontation or another spat.

It didn’t matter what you said, if you screamed at him right now, or said nothing. Alejandro had made up his mind the night you left. ❝I’ll come to every appointment, parenting class, anything.❞

—

Of all the nights for you to be in labor, it had to be during a wicked storm. You had gone over to his house to make civil conversation over dinner, to at least attempt at repairing things. He had slaved over the stove, cooking his favorite for you. For most of the meal, things were… surprisingly tranquil; even romantic.

You were heavily pregnant, were you supposed to refuse a warm meal? Not a chance. You were too full, too swollen to get up out of the dining chair once the meal finished. And looking out the window? There was no way in hell Alejandro was going to let you drive home in this; droplets whipped down, trees and waste bins flew away from the force of it, and the rain was icy. Well, you were exhausted, and he had a bed he was willing to give up. Your back and feet practically sighed in relief when you laid back in his bed, the one you two once shared. It was a nice feeling, being there again and knowing Alejandro was trying his hardest to plead forgiveness.

About an hour into your much needed-slumber, you felt a pool in the sheets. Instinctually, you figured it was the fetus pressing on your bladder—a downright embarrassing thing you’d have to wake up and explain to him. But… it was clear it wasn’t that. You were in labor and stuck here.

The shriek you let out when you got a violent contraction; Alejandro dashed quicker than he ever did when dodging bullets. His fumbling fingers dialed 911, yanking the comforter off the bed to get a better view of your dilation. Fortunately, he was trained on how to deliver a baby when stranded, or in a country without medical support. But this was his baby and your life was in his hands. If he didn’t do this correctly, if something went wrong, he would never forgive himself.

The ambulance wouldn’t be there for an hour—you didn’t have an hour to spare, this baby was coming now. ❝You can do this, amor, we’re doing this together.❞ One hand clenched yours, the other kept an eye on the crowning baby. Just how you hadn’t woken up sooner, neither of you knew. Perhaps you had gotten so used to cramps and pains, that you thought it was just another sleepless night courtesy of the little one.

—

The moment your wails went silent as his baby girl finally came, Alejandro felt his heart drop. He had to make the worst decision; focusing on the newborn first. He wrapped her in one of his shirts, wiping the fluid and blood from her small face. As he cradled her, a quick hand fingered for a pulse, a loud sigh escaping his lips when he felt one. You had only passed out from the pain—probably doing you a service, considering he didn’t have the proper medication to numb your pain.

Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of the wailing child, still with gritted teeth. But your baby was there—and her lungs were very clearly working. Alejandro set her down on your chest, allowing you to hold your daughter for the first time. ❝You did so well, cariño. Look at her.❞ He was merely distracting you with the baby on your chest, to not divert your attention towards the state your body was in as he cleaned you up.

Somehow, he had pulled this off with both his girls safe, soon to be checked out properly at a hospital. When you first broke the news, he thought he knew the meaning of being so suddenly thrust into fatherhood, but that took on a whole new meaning after tonight.

König

There had once been a line he didn’t cross, but he did that night. König never yelled at you. He saved that stern side of him for his work because it was acceptable there. But in the weeks that his work had bled onto you, spoiling the relationship, his values seemed to loosen. Though he was a complicated man, a man uncertain of himself and his appearance, he maintained a hardness about him. Ruthless in the field and immensely protective of anyone that had come to love him. 

You approached him as he worked, placing the test on the desk he was sitting at. ❝König, I need to tell you something.❞

With his head facing the paperwork, he merely shrugged at you. Until he saw what you’d placed there, his eyes going wide. But it wasn’t shock or excitement; it was disdain for the fact that this baby was just another interruption—you were just another interruption. ❝I have no time for this, Schatz, you know that.❞

He didn’t need to raise his voice for his words to sting, his bitter tone was more than enough. But he surely hadn’t meant it like that, right? He’d meant he didn’t have time for this right now… right?

❝Why don’t you go rest, then?❞ He asks, picking up the folder that he was reading previously. It wasn’t a request made out of concern, König was patronizing you. His glare was typically enough to make a soldier scramble, but you just stood there for a few seconds, biting back the urge to choke.

How you left that night, it wasn’t dramatic or emotional, it was dry. König tells you to think clearly about this, to sleep on it. But you couldn’t—and you weren’t going to be a verbal punching bag.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

König only called you weekly for appointment updates, or to let you know he had sent you a check. Other than that, words dripped with tension and the urge to say so much more. But you were too stubborn for your own good, and so was he. You were more concerned with hosting life than playing games with a father who treated you like a wimp.

He’d only seen you once, during the second trimester when he showed up at your apartment. You protested, but he showed up anyway, saying he needed “proof” that you and the fetus were safe. The voice on the phone wasn’t enough, in his eyes.

Of course, when you needed him most, screaming and keeling over in the kitchen, he wasn’t there. It was a neighbor that called an ambulance for you because they knew they had a pregnant tenant next door. In fact, it was such a close call, you nearly didn’t make it to the delivery room before the newborn came out wailing.

The only plus side? While the paramedics were deterring you from pushing, you’d sent a text—probably unintelligible—but a text, nonetheless. He knew your due date, how today was only a few days off, and he was in his car before he could grasp the severity of this new life stage.

—

❝I’m here, schätzchen. I’m not going to hurt you again, or him.❞ He hunched over the bed, eyes in a perpetual state of disbelief as he watched you soothe the whining newborn. Clarity hit him like a truck when he heard your screams during delivery, and then he was all in. Not that he had a choice, this was his doing too.

He had given you the financial support to get proper nutrition for you and the baby, to pay for the appointments, but that wasn’t enough—not in König’s eyes. He needed to snap out of his self-pity and be a support system. Whether you wanted to co-parent or work on repairing the relationship, you were not under any circumstances taking care of this newborn alone, at your apartment.

He placed a hand in your hair, threading his fingers through the strands. ❝We can clear out the spare room, hm? There’s more than enough room for the two of you.❞ He was already picturing it, how he was going to pull an all-nighter and get to work on the room, going to your apartment and moving the baby supplies from yours to his.

König didn’t need to state the obvious, that you weren’t bound to any type of relationship besides the one concerning the child. Whether you wanted to move out once the baby hit a certain age or not, he was going to keep an eye on the two of you.

Two of you, not just the newborn you were rocking. It was either both of you, or neither, and he was intent on it being the first option.

If you made it this far - THANK YOU!

[laladellakang]

crossover episode (mila)

masterlist | wattpad

italics dialogue = english | bold dialogue = japanese

this chapter is not canon, and is just for funzies. this is a collaboration with @enmi-land with her enha oc (who is also poly), mila!

kang della and milana bai in the same room?! is this a crossover episode?! (pls tell me you get this reference)

contains: 4.6k words, a bit (or well... kinda a lot) of angst but a happy ending!, mentions of cheating (mainly jay)

What the fuck just happened?

I asked to be dropped off at the convenience store near our dorm. I needed to buy some toothpaste, and I was perfectly fine with walking back. It had happened many times before without any issues over the (almost) three years we've lived here.

Until now. Though it's not anything I could ever explain.

As I was about to enter the building, someone behind me called my name.

"Della," she said quietly.

"Ah, 안녕하세요," I bowed nervously. Her hood was up, and a mask concealed her face. If anything were to happen, I wouldn't be able to describe her features. I was terrified. (annyeong haseyo = hello)

"Don't hate me. And good luck. I won't take long, I promise," she slowly made her way closer.

The moment she uttered the words 'don't hate me,' my instincts kicked in, and I discreetly tried to retrieve my card from my pocket. When she started getting closer, I didn't care anymore and tapped the card reader without hesitation.

But the doors open and close automatically. Of course she would catch up to me.

"Wait!" even if I ran as fast as I could, it's either the stairs or the elevator, both of which would take a lot of time. 

She barely did anything to me. All she did was touch my back as I rushed up the stairs. Though I suddenly felt intense dizziness, and felt as if I were floating for a moment, before returning to normal.

She was nowhere to be found afterwards and everything seemed the same..

Yet, somehow, everything felt different. It was as if the air and the overall atmosphere had changed. I couldn't pinpoint what it was exactly.

Perhaps it was magic.

What if she's a witch though... Witches scare the shit outta me.

I don't know what she did, but I do know that I have to hurry home before anything else happens.

I just wanna get home and cuddle with whoever's free.

Taking a deep breath, I entered the dorm using the combination.

My heart sank as soon as I stepped in.

Female shoes. Ones that are definitely not mine. 

Nausea overcame me, and my breathing became heavy as tears welled up.

No. Della, don't. You trust them. She could be anyone. No one is cheating on you.

What if it's a sasaeng? Did that girl break into our– no. Most, if not all, of the boys should be home. They would have done something if someone had broken in.

It can't be a relative either, as we would have informed the group beforehand.

Then who is she?

"I'm home," I managed to say in a normal voice, trying to hold back the tears.

I heard panicked shuffling and quickly wiped away stray tears before they could see me.

You're strong, Kang Della. Don't show any weakness or insecurity to whoever this person is.

And there she was, someone I had never met or seen before.

She had made herself at home, wearing loungewear and her hair styled in a messy up-do.

Her eyes were wide, mirroring my previous vulnerability, and her breathing was heavy.

And she was stunning. Her freshly-dyed blonde hair contrasted with my midnight black one. She was tall (though not as tall as me, judging by how high she reached the shoe rack), with a small face, big eyes, and plump lips.

Honestly, she reminded me of myself, but in a different font or something. I don't think she's Korean.

"Who are you, and how did you find out where we live?" she asked me fearfully. "How did you know the passcode?"

Wow.

Just wow.

I know that in situations like this (or at least what it's looking like), the blame should mainly fall on the cheater rather than the person they cheated with.

But she just referred to my home as hers. Ain't no fucking way.

"Where YOU live?" I scoffed, licking the inside of my cheek. "I'm sorry– who are you, and why are YOU here?"

That's when I noticed she was wearing my favorite Jay-shirt. It felt like my heart was being crushed, and I could feel the symptoms of a panic attack creeping up.

My sweet Jay. Earlier today, he woke me up and told me I was the most beautiful woman in the world. How lucky he felt to have me. His eyes showed sincerity. Was it all a lie? How can someone so lovely be so cruel?

"I live here. Who are you, and how did you know the passcode?" she responded, a bit more sternly. What the hell?

"This is Enhypen's dorm. I live here," I said, in disbelief that she didn't recognize me, even though she's dating a member of my group.

Shit. That stings. Park Jongseong fucking cheated on me.

Confusion crossed her face, and she was about to say something when we were interrupted by more shuffling.

We both turned and saw an angry Heeseung.

"What are you doing here? How did you get in?" he said sternly, pulling her behind him to protect her.

Heeseung too? My protective Heeseung who got angry at the other members if they left me unsupervised after my injury.

Now he's protecting her instead of me?

My heart started pounding, and it became harder to breathe.

"Heeseung-oppa?" I said in a small voice, feeling incredibly betrayed.

"Who are you?! Get out of our house before we call the police!" he raised his voice at me. The boys had never spoken to me like that before, especially not in such a harsh tone.

"I live here! Lee Heeseung, what are you saying?!" my voice shook as a few tears escaped.

More commotion followed, and this time all seven members appeared. Even Jake, who I could see peeking from the side of the wall.

Is he... afraid of me?

My Jake who was scared of the girls in I-Land but became so comfortable with me that his golden retriever personality came out. Now he barely wants to see me?

"You don't live here. Who are you?" Jungwon stepped forward. My Jungwon. Enhypen's leader who is ready to protect everyone despite being maknae.

But why isn't he protecting me?

"I—" the sight of all my boyfriends turning against me and defending this girl became too much. I could feel myself starting to hyperventilate, and a panic attack was on the verge of consuming me.

Shit. I haven't had a panic attack in so long and the fact that my lovers are the ones to trigger it is insane. Everything was perfect just this morning– what happened?

"Breathe. Take your time," Oh my Sunghoon. So incredibly precious. Always reassuring and giving me reminders since day one.

"Sunghoon," Heeseung scolded.

"She's going to have a panic attack! How can she explain anything?" Sunghoon reasoned. "Niki, get her some water."

"No, Niki. She should leave. Now," Sunoo said firmly. "I'm calling the police." My Sunoo, our sunshine. We've had our squabbles, but I've never been this scared of him. Now I understand what people mean when they say he has an intimidating face.

"Wait, wait. What's your name?" Riki asked. "Calm down a bit. Tell us how you got in," he approached me and gently rubbed my shoulder. I tend to forget that he's still so young since he hates when I remind him of our slight age gap. My Riki is too pure sometimes. He's doing this when I'm a stranger to them. 

Wait.

It suddenly hit me.

Shit, why didn't my brain work faster?

I'm a stranger to them. They don't know who I am.

It breaks my heart but I should at least introduce myself so that they know I'm not a threat.

Was this the working of that bitch (no Della, don't call her a bitch, you don't know her) who used witchcraft? Did she erase their memories or something?

"Jay-hyung, call the police," Riki switched languages, probably to ensure that I don't understand.

"Wait! Don't call!" my eyes widened, instinctively grabbing Riki's wrist. "I'm not a crazy fan, I swear!"

"Let go of him," everyone said in unison.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hold him. It was a reflex," I let go and took a deep breath. "My name is Kang Della. I'm a member of Enhypen."

"I'm sorry, what?" Sunoo scoffed. "We only have two female members in our team."

Two?

"What the fuck is happening with the world?" I couldn't help but chuckle humorlessly. "Have I gone insane?"

There's no fucking way that what I'm thinking is what happened.

"Alice?" I simply asked.

"What is Alice... answer us– what do you mean you're a member of Enhypen?" Jungwon asked.

"Did I do that thing from Everything, Everywhere, All at Once?" I leaned against the wall, clutching my aching head. "Just give me a second."

I have officially gone insane.

Even if I did 'multiverse hopped' or whatever you call it, I have officially gone insane. My head fucking hurts.

This is why I am afraid of witches.

"Can you please answer us?" Jake asked in a softer voice.

"My name is Kang Della. I was born on March 16, 2003. I'm from Seongbuk-gu, and in 2020, I participated in a survival show called I-Land," I looked up at their faces, hoping to see some recognition. Some looked in disbelief, while others seemed slightly annoyed.

"I made it into the final lineup of Enhypen. Seven boys, two girls. It was you seven plus me and Alice, but Alice left shortly after, so I was the only girl," my eyes welled up with tears at the thought of them not remembering me after everything we went through. "I live here. This dorm has been my home for almost three years. I was attending a class in university, and suddenly I came home to... to this."

"You expect us to–" Heeseung was about to say something when she cut him off. She moved closer to me, looking me in the eye. "Mila–"

"Do you have any proof?" she asked softly.

I maintained eye contact as I pulled out my phone. I let out a shaky breath when I looked at the screen for my Face ID.

The lock screen displayed a picture of us, my Enha.

I opened the gallery app, and a few tears escaped my eyes. I flinched slightly when Mila's hand reached out to wipe them away.

"Take your time," she assured me. Damn, she's sweet too. She seems perfect.

"Thank you," I whispered. My thumb hovered over the photo album labeled 'my forever.' I know I'm being dramatic but all I kept thinking was 'will I ever return to my world again?' "Here you go," I handed her my phone.

I watched as she scrolled through the pictures, but quickly averted my gaze to the floor. I really want to go home. I'm surrounded by familiar faces, but they're not my comfort people.

"Guys... These are actually you..." Mila turned around to show the seven. "And it's not even a look-alike, it's definitely you. This is the company building," Jay took the phone out of her hands to have a closer look.

I saw him tap on a specific video, and Shout Out started playing. It must be from one of our concerts. 

That's when I couldn't take it anymore. Again.

I broke down. A full-on panic attack.

"Oh my God," Mila wrapped her arms around me. "Let's get you inside. Niki, get her some water."

Hearing Shout Out made me think of four things at the same time:

One: How the hell am I going to get back home, and how long will it take?

Two: I'm all alone in this world/universe/whatever this is.

Three: I'm surrounded by people who resemble and act like my soulmates, but they're not mine.

And, four: I guess we're not together in every universe after all. I know it's probably impossible, and the guys were just trying to reassure me, but it still hurts. 

This is one of the worst reality checks I've ever received.

Afterward, I didn't feel like doing anything. I didn't wanna eat, talk or look anyone in the eye. I just sat lazily on the couch and occasionally observed this Enha. I could sense that Heeseung, Jake, Sunghoon, and Sunoo were more cautious around me, while Jungwon, Jay, Mila, and Niki tried to attend to their "guest."

I also noticed a little something else.

I ended up spending the night, sleeping in Mila's bed while she sleeps in Kiara's since the other female member was away for two days.

Just like our schedule, theirs have a two-day break.

I overheard a few members canceling their plans because of me, which made me feel incredibly guilty.

I didn't want to stay here, but if I had left, Mila would have come with me, and that was a hard no from all the male members.

Mila hadn't left my side since my panic attack. She was doing everything she could to make me feel better, and I truly appreciated it.

That's why, when we're finally fully alone, I immediately tried to initiate a conversation.

"Are you dating any of the boys?" I asked, avoiding eye contact.

I needed to be sure. I wanted to confirm my observations.

Also, after hearing her talk with Jake, I noticed that she's fluent in English and had an Aussie accent. It seemed like she was more comfortable and fluent in English than in Korean.

"What?" from the corner of my eye, she seemed startled but relieved to hear my voice.

"All seven of them, perhaps?" I whispered.

She remained silent for a few moments before answering quietly.

"Yeah. All seven."

I let out a deep breath and nodded.

She's just like me.

"I noticed the way you look at each other," I said. They were trying not to reveal anything in front of me, but eyes don't lie.

It hurt even more knowing that this universe's Della wouldn't be with this Enha. Why would they when they have this goddess of a member?

I would've cried if I had not exhausted all my tears.

"We didn't want to tell you because we saw your photos," she said. "You're dating all of them too, aren't you?"

All I could do was nod.

"We were worried that our affection would... hurt you," well that's sweet of them.

"Thank you, I really appreciate it," I breathed out. "But I'm sure looking at those pictures on my phone pains you just as much, so you don't have to hide. I'll be fine."

It must be even more surreal for her to suddenly meet this girl in the comfort of her home, who has solid proof that she came from another dimension.

"It didn't," she said confidently, making me look up at her. "I mean... it did at first– like like– when you– I mean, when I first saw the pictures and how smitten you are," she stuttered a bit at the eye contact. "–but honestly? I'm completely okay with it," she smiled sweetly.

She's really cute.

"Because you kinda remind me of myself," her eyes sparkled. "I like to think of you as a Korean version of me."

That's an interesting way to put it.

We do resemble each other. We're both members of Enhypen. We're both dating the same people. Our names both end in 'la', and we're practically the same height. There could be a lot more too.

"That's a great take," I smiled for the first time since being here. "But how are you so sure that we're THAT similar? We barely know anything about each other."

Her eyes lit up even more (if that was even possible), and she eagerly sat beside me.

"First things first, I was also born in March 2003."

Mila and I ended up chatting until two.

Our conversation covered various topics, from discussing our favorite things to gossiping about our respective Enhas.

I absolutely adore Mila. We have so much in common, and she's incredibly cute.

I discovered that our personalities are quite different though. She has more of a bright energy.

And well... she's an extrovert with a gorgeous, friendly face.

But I think our contrasting personalities will make our bond even stronger. People like her are good for me.

At around two-fifteen, my hunger became unbearable, so I mustered the will to go to the kitchen.

I really didn't want to run into any of the boys, but Mila assured me that they should all be in their rooms playing games by now (just like my Enha), so I hoped she was right.

Especially because she's calling it a night so she can't accompany me.

Poor girl had a tiring day but still managed to stay up just to talk to me.

I decided to take Mila's suggestion and make myself some cup ramyeon to bring back to the room. That way, if I did encounter any of the members, I could quickly retreat.

"Good night, Lala. Enjoy your food," Mila yawned.

"'Night, Mimi. Sweet dreams," I replied before leaving the room.

Fortunately, the lights were out in the living room, indicating that no one is outside their rooms (unless they're in the bathroom).

I swiftly prepared my noodles and nearly succeeded in avoiding the boys, until the door to the master bedroom opened, revealing Jake followed by Jay.

They halted in their tracks upon seeing me. Jay even glanced back at the other members.

"Della-ssi," Jake exhaled. "You're not asleep?"

"I got hungry, and Mila told me to eat," I spoke my first words to them since my arrival.

"Eat up. You must be hungry," he eyed the ramyeon with a nod.

"Thank y–" I reached for the doorknob of the girls' room until Jay called out.

"Della-ssi? Do you mind coming here for a bit? You can eat the ramyeon while we're at it too," he pushed into the space Jake slightly left. "We wanna say a few things."

Shit. This is going to be awkward.

"A-ah... Okay..." I walked towards the room slowly. "안녕하세요," I greeted with a small bow.

"No need for formalities," Sunghoon said from his bed. "You can sit on my chair," he pointed.

"Thank you," I immediately took the seat, opening the lid of my ramyeon.

"You add cheese, too?" Sunoo asked, eyeing my noodles.

"Yeah, I always do," I stirred my noodles, slowly realising the 'too' in his question. "Do you also use cheese?"

"Mila does," all seven said in unison.

"Ah..." damn they also have that syncing habit. "Does she also use half of the seasoning packet?"

"No, she loves spice," Jay answered. An awkward silence followed before Jungwon broke it.

"Listen... We're sincerely sorry for being rude to you earlier. We were startled and scared that a stranger was in our home," he began. "On behalf of all seven of us, we deeply apologize."

"Oh no! Not at all! I completely understand!" I shook my hand. "I practically broke in, so it's only natural for you all to panic."

"We know, but still... we caused you to have a panic attack," Heeseung hugged his knees. "We're truly sorry."

"Don't worry about it. I completely understand, and I forgive you," I smiled softly. "I really appreciate it."

Silence hung in the air for a few moments. The only sounds coming from my slurps, Sunghoon's finger tapping, and Jake's foot bouncing.

I thought about leaving, but I wasn't sure how. Maybe I could quickly finish my food and just excuse myself.

"How is–" Riki spoke up. "What's Enhypen like in your world?"

Oh wow.

First off, he called me 'noona' and I had forgotten that they don't know about my dislike for that term.

Secondly, I had discussed this with Mila, but hearing one of the guys ask about it was a bit heart-wrenching to be honest.

The other members looked at me with anticipation.

"In my world, Enhypen is..." I took a deep breath. "Popularity wise, me and Mila concluded that we're pretty much the same. Majority, if not all of our achievements are the same," I smiled at the thought.

"I guess that's good then..." they nodded slowly.

"Relationship-wise?" My smile wavered slightly at Sunghoon's question. I took another, even deeper breath before responding.

"Our bond keeps getting stronger," I fiddled with my chopsticks. "The public doesn't know, and only a few trusted do, but we just love showing it off," I grinned. "Whether subtly or not-so-subtly."

"Do we–" Jungwon cleared his throat. "Do we treat you well?"

"What?" I chuckled.

"Come on, you can tell us! Did they treat you well? Your secret is 100% safe with us, like... who would we even tell?!" Sunoo became excited at the topic.

"Well, that's true," I giggled, then became serious again. "You– well... they treat me incredibly well. More than I deserve. I love each and every one of them deeply, and they mean the world to me. All seven of them."

"We can tell. The way you talk about them speaks volumes," Riki smiled, and I smiled back.

"I hope they realise it too," and my mood went back to being somber.

Please, I really hope I can return. I really hope that girl/witch/whatever she was told the truth and actually won't take long.

And please, let it be before the public/my parents find out. I'm not sure what the company would do but I can imagine mom crying before anything else and dad causing chaos in attempt to find me.

I wonder how the boys reacted. I'm pretty sure Heeseung would tell everyone to remain calm, but ironically be the most panicked. Sunghoon would–

"What's Jake like?" Jake interrupted my train of thought. "Am I still Australian?"

I couldn't help but laugh at his question, and it sparked curiosity in the other members about their alternate selves as well.

I noticed that they were mostly the same as my Enha, although not entirely identical. They have a few different traits, and based on what Mila told me, the way they treat their girlfriend is quite different as well.

Though what was undoubtedly clear to me was their love for Mila. They were so deeply in love with her, it's so endearing to see.

I'm so glad Mila got someone good.

Well... plural.

Yesterday was such an eventful day for me that I ended up sleeping in and didn't wake up until the commotion outside the room became too loud to ignore.

I could hear voices, but my mind struggled to process the words being said.

That was until I suddenly realised that there were way too many voices to be just eight.

Especially when some of those voices seem to be talking to themselves, like– why is Sunghoon asking and answering himself?

...

Oh!

I quickly sat up and waited for a moment before rushing out of the room.

There they are.

My seven men.

Home.

I could see them collectively sigh in relief at the sight of me.

Without a second thought, I raced to give them a massive hug.

I didn't know who I was aiming to hug first since I wasn't really thinking straight— I just wanted to be engulfed in a group hug, desperately hoping it was possible.

And it was. I found myself embracing the tallest two members, and the rest of the group wrapped their arms around us straight away. Just how we like our intimate group hugs.

Tears began to well up, and I just know that I'm gonna ugly cry any second now.

"Della," Sunoo's voice quivered, and that's when the ugly sobs started.

"Awww, Della," I felt a gentle hand caressing my hair. "Our baby."

"I- I missed y-you all so muchhh," I hiccuped. "Ho-howw did you find me?"

"We've told you so many times, Lala. No matter how lost you are, we'll always come and guide you home."

As it turns out, the girl who brought me here was Della from another dimension. She came from a world where she was extremely academically gifted and just got tired of her straining job and constant scrutiny. 

So she tried to create a universe-hopping device in secret, in hopes of having just a few moments to herself where she can try living someone else's life.

My universe just so happen to be the first one she successfully jumped to. She realised the potential chaos that could arise from two Dellas existing simultaneously, and had to find and transport me quick. She said we can take at least an hour to be in one universe with our alternate selves.

With a simple touch, she transported me to a reality that was the safest route. One where a Della no longer existed.

Her device was not advanced enough to find out how or what the other universe Dellas are doing yet, so when she found out that she landed in one where the Della was an idol...

Needless to say, she didn't need much convincing to bring me back ASAP.

What took a little longer was just her going back and tuning her failed attempts to be just like her current one, just so the boys can come fetch me.

Apparently they paid her a ton (IN US DOLLARS.), even though they were only borrowing and this whole grand gesture was totally not necessary.

I love them so fucking much. How can you fucking not?

Either they love me so much or they just wanna universe-hop. But I like to be a bit delusional.

"Thank you so much for everythingg!" I hugged Mila tightly. "I'm so sorry for this mess and for the has–"

"Aish– don't even mention it," Mila hugged me tighter. "I'm sorry you were transported but I'm so glad you landed here."

"I'm so glad to have met youu," I nuzzled her hair. "I wish we could see each other again after this."

"I hope so too! Oh my God– this will be our first and last time meeting!" I could feel Mila mirroring my nuzzle on my shoulder. "This is so sad! We can't even exchange contacts!"

"Take care of yourself, okay? And work hard so Enhypen can achieve more," I rubbed her back. "Good luck with your men too. I hope everything goes well."

"You too! You too! Let's both work hard so when we do see each other again, we'll be equally proud!" we pulled away from each other. "Do you wanna hug the guys? Like.. my guys?"

Uhh....

"I would buuut..." I turned my gaze to the scene behind Mila, prompting her to look in the same direction.

We learned that my Enha is the slightest bit more intimidating. It's not apparent in the stories we told each other (especially Mila's jealousy and teasing episodes– dear God, my Enha feels like primary school) but with Mila's Enha constantly fidgeting under my Enha's glares, I feel like the latter is just the tiniest bit more intimidating.

"Oh my God– what happened?" Mila giggled quietly at me.

"They're jealous because your men are basically them but in another dimension so they don't want no chances of... you know..." my English suddenly stopped working.

"Ahh– ahh!" thankfully Mila fully understood my point. "Am I just invisible to them? Like my guys' girlfriend is right here!"

"Don't worry about it though, they're just being cute," I smiled, making my way over to them. "Thank you for having me in your home, and I'm sorry for intruding. I hope you have a great rest-of-your-day-off," I said to Mila's Enha while wrapping my arms around my Jungwon.

"Don't mention it. Thank you for being friends with Mila. She looks really happy," Mila's Sunghoon spoke in behalf. "We hope you can meet each other again one day."

"Hopefully," I smiled wider at the sight of Mila hugging her Jungwon. "I'll see you guys around, too."

"We'll look forward to it," they all gave a polite smile, causing Mila to gasp and slap the second nearest one (Riki)'s shoulder.

"What do you mean you'll look forward to meeting her again?!" she playfully pouted. "I'm right here!"

"Sorry my love– we were just saying go–" the cute little exchange was interrupted by SmartDella reminding us of the time. "Well– we hope to see you one day– YOU ALL one day." 

"Likewise," my Jungwon squeezed my shoulder before looking at me. "Ready to go home, Lala?"

"Of course I am."

this last scene might be a bit rushed but oh welllll

plus i couldn’t focus on any of my assignments until THIS WAS FINISHED SO NOW i will sleep

taglist! @afiaaaa19 @riikiblr @one16core @i90snoo @danyxthirstae01 @seulgifted @clar-iii @hiqhkey @nichmeddar @jiwlys @duolingofanaccount @nvmbheart @3amstarlight [@studioreader @sarang-wonie @fairydosii @hoonstrology @jaetint @4sahii @8-itsmee-8 @toriluvsfics]

[wingsonghalo]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @cnnmonbimee! Thank you for the tag!! Read her awesome answers here!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3? 66! More than I thought were on there tbh!

2. What’s your total Ao3 word count? Uhhh apparently it's 684,757! Less than I thought!

3. What fandoms do you write for? In order of most fics to least: Ace Attorney, JSHK, My Hero Academia, Mob Psycho 100, Homestuck, Hunter x Hunter, Phineas and Ferb, and Supernatural. I've also written a lot of Pokemon stuff, but somehow that has escaped Ao3 despite it being my longest fandom LOL. Working on a Pokemon SV one currently though 👀

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Project: Matchmakers (shocker, I know), Sleep (Too) Tight (It's always been slowly but steadily popular), Force of Habit (bit of a surprise there honestly), Project: Matrimony (less surprising), and The Stuff of Dreams. So what I am seeing here is that no one leaves kudos on my JSHK or MP100 or MHA fics :') Some of these fics are one-shots, so it's kind of surprising! I wish PlayWright had gotten more attention; that fic killed me while I was writing it. I'm not giving number of kudos because I'm not comfortable with that and it makes me feel bad about myself haha,,,

5. Do you respond to comments? I try to! I've fallen behind on responding to them in the past 2 years or so because life has been so busy, though…

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably A Practice, For Now?? LMAO it's also my first JSHK and the one with the most kudos HMM COULD THIS FANDOM BE ADDICTED TO ANGST PERHAPS??! I don't write angst a lot!! What can I say, I'm a sucker for a happy ending.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Almost all of my fics end happily, LOL. Pick any of them that actually has an ending.

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not commonly. I've gotten anon hate before about them on tumblr on rare occasions, but usually my comments on ao3 stay pretty nice.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? I do sometimes, but I'm so shy about it that I rarely ever post it /)//w//(\ Usually I just share it among friends, haha!

10. Do you write crossovers? Nope, and I never will!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yes. Someone tried to run Project: Matchmakers through a translator to hide the word matches and sell it as an ebook on Amazon, but they only bothered to hide it for chapter 1 so someone reported it to me and then in retaliation I started actually selling it on Amazon for the lowest price I could because the thief was trying to sell the shittier version for like 7 dollars LSFJ;AKLD. Read about the whole debacle here.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes, quite a few! People have been great about asking me for permission! 💖

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, here and there! Usually it's either fics where I have written one part and someone else has written another scene, or someone had me look over something they'd written and I added so much commentary or threw additional ideas at them so much that the story ended up changing and I somehow became a co-author, LOL.

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? Oh my god don't make me answer that ;alskdjfl;k. If I wrote a fic for them ever, they're my favorite. I have so many favorites that I've never written fics for, too.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? THE UNDERCOVER FIIIIIC [sobs] and also Left on Read hnnngh

16. What are your writing strengths? Emotions!! I'm super good at those! I'm also really strong at dialogue and banter, and making my writing kinda witty/funny.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Describing settings ;w; I write my scenes like I draw my art: in Descriptionless Blank Voids lkas;dlkf. I also struggle with the flow of action scenes sometimes, though I think they usually turn out okay if I spend enough time on them. I also probably use too many adverbs and adjectives, but y'know what? Fuck it I like my descriptive words thank you very much

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? As long as you're checking that it means what you think it means, or possibly asking a native speaker if you're unsure about context or need a sensitivity reader, I think it's fine. It annoys me if I have to check a footnote every other line, but if you can mostly understand it without a translation in context, it can be kinda nice! At least it says you're trying more than phonetically spelling out an accent, which--remember, kids!--is always cringe! 👍

19. First fandom you wrote for? On Ao3, it was Homestuck. On the internet in general, it was Animal Crossing and Pokemon, LOL.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? Don't make me cHOOSE BETWEEN MY BABIESSS 😭 I dunno man! Project: Matchmakers is my magnum opus, but the PlayWright is lowkey kind of a masterpiece, I love so many of my JSHK fics to bits and pieces, a lot of my MP100 and MHA fics are very special to me, I've been trying to write a HxH one for YEARS and have poured my heart into making it beautiful, just UGHHH every single one of my fics I have vivid memories of conceptualizing and working on and most of them are my favorite to some degree!

I tag @carochinha, @kittykatz009, @toastytoaster22, @ittybittytoostormy, and anyone else who would like to answer these questions!!

[shinehyuk]

amour non-réciproque | yoo kihyun

| Genre : yandere, angst, requested

ㅡ Summary : after all that he has done, it's nothing more than one-sided love.

Word Count : 1.2k

tw/cw : abuse, a lot of murder, obsession, heavy themes, toxic relationships, strong language, violence, blood, s/o death (lightly described), please do not read if uncomfortable/sensitive! i do not support the behavior portrayed in this work!

amour non-réciproque : one-sided love (thank you @effulgentfireflies for the help with translation!!<3)

39. “Why can't you love me?”

Everyone knows that sometimes, you have to walk over some corpses to get to the top.

The saying perfectly applies to Yoo Kihyun; although perhaps a little too literally.

Oh, if only you knew just how much he has done for you. He's the sole reason you stay safe during your daily night walks; the reason that no dirty bastards have harmed your fragile little heart yet. It's almost like he's your guardian angel, being with you every step of the way and protecting you like his own life depends on it.

To him, it's quite romantic. But would you say the same if you knew the truth? To you, he may be no one important, but to him, you're his entire world.

Therefore, he decided to confess.

He'll confess both everything that he's done for you and his feelings for you. Surely you can forgive him even if you were a bit lonely because of the male removing everyone from your life if he only tells you about his true feelings, can't you? He's sure of it; after all, you're the sweetest, kindest person that ever stepped on this earth – everyone else is filled with toxicity, dirty and impure, but you're different from them.

The day heavy rain was pouring, you gave him your only umbrella without hesitation, running home while holding your hands over your head in an attempt to stop the rain from falling on you even if it barely helped at all – you ran off even before the male could gather up the proper words to thank you.

The day he forgot to bring his food with him, you shared your lunch with him without ever wanting anything in return.

You are simply too kind for this world.

But if you accept his confession, he's going to make sure that no one will ever harm you.

Today was the perfect day to confess. You probably wouldn't know it, but today you met for the very first time; Kihyun fell in love with you at first sight, enthralled by your beauty and charm. Today was basically your anniversary, and that's why he planned to make this day special by telling you everything that he's always wanted to say.

He waited until it was midnight, so just in case something went awry, the absence of light at such a late time could help him.

The male rang the bell to your apartment, his hands slightly shaking from the nervousness that built up inside him with every second. He's never felt this anxious before, but he was also excited to see your reaction.

Seeing who it was, you cautiously opened the door, lazily rubbing your sleepy eyes. The smell of his cologne stunned you; whatever it was that he was here for, he definitely wanted to look and smell his best for it.

"..Kihyun? Why are you out this late?" You asked, your confusion only growing stronger as the male handed you an elegant bouquet of beautiful red roses. "..Uh, thank you..?"

"May I come in?"

"Well, I don't know–"

"It's important."

You sighed, taking the roses and letting him in. The male has never been to your apartment before. Or that's what you thought, at least. You picked out a proper vase for the flowers, filling it up with water so they would not wilt so easily.

"So, what's so important I can't sleep?"

"Let's sit down."

You went to the living room together, the male instantly finding the light switch. You frown, but decided not to think anything about it. You were far too tired to have any proper thoughts right now anyways.

"Do you trust me?" He asked once you both got more comfortable, sitting before each other.

You gulp. This was definitely not going in a good direction. What were you supposed to answer, especially in the middle of the night? The honest answer would be no; you didn't trust him at all. You've been seeing him in places that he shouldn't be in – your friends that told you they suspected that he was following you around have mysteriously disappeared, and everything in your body screams at you to run whenever you're around him. Would he leave you alone if you told him you didn't trust him? Or perhaps you'd just be risking making him angry?

"W-Well, I don't know" You laughed nervously as you clenched your hands, feeling his intense stare on you. "We don't know each other that well yet, do we?"

He sighed; it was clearly not the answer he was expecting, but he didn't comment on it, moving on.

"The truth is," He started. "I have been interested in you for some time"

"Well, I'm–" He stopped you before you answered, clicking his tongue.

"Just listen to me," He pleaded. "After everything I've done for you, the least you can do is listen, can't you?"

…

"Good." He sighed, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. "Ah– where should I start? What do you think happened to your former lover?"

"Why are you bringing this up..?" Your hands were shaking, but you tried not to let him see your growing fear. "T-They moved out–"

"I killed them."

"What?"

He chuckled, enjoying the startled look on your face. You were frozen in shock as he came up to you, getting a hold of your chin and forcing you to look up at him, your face suddenly dangerously close to his. His thumb ran over your lips, the male sighing out in satisfaction. Oh, how long he has waited for this exact moment.

"I killed everyone you once loved." He declared. "Your friends, the people who hurt you. I did it all for you"

"Y-You're lying!"

"Is that what you really think?" He asked.

Silence followed his question, warm tears starting to run down your cheeks.

"P-Please, Kihyun, I beg you, leave me alone"

"Are you scared, my love?" He cocked a brow. "I would never hurt you. I won't let anything or anyone harm you." He assured, but it did not make you feel better at all.

"Please– Say you love me" The male caressed your cheek, his eyes hopeful. "You do love me, right, my love?"

"Go to hell!" You pushed him away and tried to kick him, but the male dodged, getting annoyed. "You're a fucking psychopath; leave me the fuck alone! I'll never love you!"

..What?

The male froze. You don't love him.

He sniggered, his eyes darkening as he grabbed you harshly, pushing you against the wall. "After everything I've fucking done for you," He growled. "This is what you do? Not even a 'thank you'? Why can't you love me?"

You answered with a desperate sob, weakly trying to fight him off. He only saw fright and hate in your eyes; so you really didn't feel anything for him. He breathed out shakily, carefully considering his next move.

He really did not want to resort to hurting you, but you leave him no choice. This is not the person he loves anymore. The person he loves is kind, unlike the person before him.

"We'd be so happy together, my love" He sighed, reaching for his back pocket. "But you just had to ruin everything"

You screamed, pain spreading throughout your body as you slowly started going weak, Kihyun gently seating you on the floor while still holding you in his arms. "Goodbye," He smiled sadly, kissing you for the first and last time.

"My love."

It wasn't long until silence filled the room, the male sighing deeply as he laid your head on the floor, softly closing your eyes with his hand.

It was the end of everything; as well as his one-sided love.

thank you for requesting! i hope you liked it <3

‣ Taglist : @atiny-chocolate-chip @lmaoskz @sunoo-bby  @heemingyu @nikipedia07 @effulgentfireflies

[angellesword]

YOUR EYES TELL | JJK (03)

Summary: You live in a world where people see in black and white. The solution to finally see the colors? It's simple. You need to meet your soulmate and look at him in the eyes, but what if the person bound to you is already contented with the monochromatic world? What if...Jeongguk, your soulmate, is already in love with someone else?

Alternatively;

"A future without you is a world without color."

Genre: soulmate au, e2l, slow burn, angst, fluff, roommate au

Pairing: Artist!Jungkook x Lawyer!Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

SERIES: CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 4

Note: OC is a lawyer but the author knows nothing about law except the three law subjects she took last semester. errors. ah. there will always be errors here bc english isn’t my first language. anyway!!! enjoy!

Jimin wasn't lying when he said you were a mess. This was evident to Jeongguk the second he stepped inside your apartment.

Pile of cardboard boxes and papers were cluttered all over the floor, causing him to feel uneasy. The faint colors visible in his eyes didn't help to calm his nerves. It was as if he suddenly became hypersensitive to his surroundings.

He assumed that your house wasn't really that untidy, but as stated, the colors made it seem like it was untidier.

"Hi there, buddy." Jeongguk forced a smile at the cat glaring at him. He remembered Jimin telling him that your cat was a bitch. The fury pet was making this strange, scary sound. Jeongguk suddenly wished you were here to stop the cat from attacking him.

He wasn't expecting you to lock yourself inside your room the moment you realized that he was your soulmate.

He was so startled by your reaction that his first instinct was to run after you. The thing was, your cat was blocking your bedroom door—stopping him from intruding your personal space. It was obvious that the little animal didn't like the fact that Jeongguk invited himself inside your home.

Jeongguk didn't know why you were hiding from him. In your defense, you were embarrassed. What were you supposed to say to your soulmate? How were you going to explain to him that the reason why you looked like a mess was because of your demanding job?

Being a civil lawyer was exhausting. One second you're negotiating settlement with the other side's attorney, then you would just find yourself filing motions in court and of course, there were many instances where you're standing before the jury and judge to present a case.

Expertise wasn't the only thing necessary in law. You also needed a great amount of empathy so that you could understand your clients. You cared for them a lot; this was why it was such a big deal for you whenever they choose to omit facts.

You hated it when your clients were being dishonest, you didn't need them to be innocent. You only wanted them to tell you the absolute truth so that you could properly defend them. It wasn't like your job was easy. The fact that most people living in your world see in black and white was already a pain in the ass. Earlier this day, you had a client who was suing a businessperson for selling fake whitening products. She claimed that she spent a whopping two thousand dollars to get that fair skin tone. Sadly, it didn't work.

The opposing side asked your client this: how can you say that the products don’t work when you can’t even see colors?

You were shocked to learn this. Your client was subject to a color test for eyes. She said she could see colors when in fact, she couldn't. Actually, the only reason why the vendor sold your client the whitening products was because she also lied to the seller. The latter's rule was that she wouldn't allow people who see in black and white to purchase her products. This was so she could protect her business' image from fraudster like your client.

Things like this often happened in court. The one you encountered were usually easier to resolve, unlike what criminal lawyers face. This, however, didn't mean your job should be taken lightly.

What happened in court today actually took a toll on you. Your boss humiliated you in front of your colleagues, saying that he couldn't believe an experienced lawyer like you would make such rookie mistake. This made you feel like a loser that's why you decided to go home early to rest. You knew you couldn't work when your heart was this heavy.

You ran yourself a bath the moment you reached your apartment. Jimin was bombarding your phone with text messages to remind you that Jeongguk, a friend of his, was going to drop at your place later today since he was interested to be your roommate.

You simply replied 'Yes, I haven't forgotten. Stop pestering me,' to your best friend. Truthfully, Jimin hadn't shut up about this guy named Jeongguk since last week. He kept telling you that he was the perfect replacement for Seulgi, your former roommate.

You just shrugged it off. Honestly, you didn't care if Jeongguk was the perfect roommate or not. At this point, you would take anyone in. You seriously needed someone who could help you with the household chores.

The warm water grazing your skin made you feel sleepy. Before you knew it, you're off to dreamland; however, your little slumber was disrupted by loud knocks coming from your front door.

"Shit!" Your eyes went wide upon realizing that your supposed to be new roommate was already at the door. As if to confirm the horror, your phone rang.

Jimin was calling.

"Where the hell are you? Jeongguk is in front of your door!"

"I know. I'm so sorry! I fell asleep." You got out of the tub, hurriedly putting on your bathrobe.

"Talk to you later!" You ended the voice call, rushing towards the door. Unfortunately, you slipped on the wet floor.

You whined in pain. Luck was truly not on your side today, but instead of getting annoyed, you simply stood up and went your way to the door.

"I'm sorry, I was in the shower. I swear I heard you the first time you knocked, but I was panicking so I slipped down the floor and I..." You were already blabbering right after opening the door. You hadn't seen your future roommate's face because it was easier to lie without looking at someone in the eyes.

You didn't know why you told him you heard his first knock, when in reality, you didn't. You guessed you just hated disappointing people. What happened with your boss today was something you couldn't let to be repeated again. You couldn't bear to irritate another person.

You kept yourself busy as you reasoned out. You ran your hand through your wet hair, eyes widening when you saw your fingers covered in soap suds.

"Oh, my God!" You were panicking again. This time, you finally looked at Jeongguk to see his reaction.

It was like the world stopped.

No. You did not see colors instantly. What you felt was something strange—mystical perhaps. It was just like how they described it in books and movies.

You thought people were exaggerating about what they claimed they felt when they met their soulmates.

Apparently, they were not.

You know the feeling of finally seeing the rainbow after the strong storm? It was like that. Except this was way better. Your young self was probably rejoicing now. Being able to meet and look in your soulmate's eyes was dazzling.

The colors were becoming visible now, it was faint—this was in contrast to the embarrassment you were feeling.

You suddenly became very self-conscious with what you looked like. You were wrong. Your young self wasn't that happy because she wasn't expecting to meet her soulmate like this.

You were aware that you looked awful. The bags under your bloodshot eyes were probably so deep. The soap suds in your hair made you appear ridiculous. The most horrifying of all? You were wearing a bathrobe designed with the face of your favorite cartoon character.

"Uh—"

You ran away, locking yourself in your room before Jeongguk could finish what he was about to say.

Your heart was beating so fast as you stared in the mirror. The disgust you felt intensified. God. You looked horrible. You mentally cursed the brand of the mascara you were wearing. So much for claiming to be smudge proof! Curse yourself too because this wouldn't happen in the first place if you only refrained from crying over your boss' mean words, but it seemed like you never learned. You just scolded yourself from crying easily, but here you were, tears were painting your cheeks once again.

"No..." Your lips quivered. You were stronger than this. You weren't going to ruin your chance with your soulmate.

Determined, you quickly changed into a sage dress. Your hands were trembling because of your new found excitement. You loved colors ever since you were a kid. The fact that you couldn't see them didn't stop you from learning its meaning. You studied good color combination before. You were aware how to aesthetically match the hues. For instance, you knew that you would look ridiculous if you wore a neon green shirt and bright pink jeans. You were always careful in choosing what to wear, so now that you could finally see colors without referring to your color palette generator, you were beyond happy.

When you looked decent enough, you decided to finally face your soulmate. The first thing you saw as you opened your bedroom door was Jeongguk sitting on your couch—this was a very shocking scene. No. You weren't surprised because he was casually plopped down on your sofa, what you didn't expect was to see Miri, your bitch of a cat, to be so comfortable on Jeongguk's lap. Your pet looked at peace; the usual hiss she was making was replaced by a silent purring. Her bambi eyes mirrored your soulmate's same big, doe eyes.

You cleared your throat to get Jeongguk's attention.

"I let myself in, I hope you don't mind." You couldn't decipher what he was feeling. Jeongguk's voice was soft, but there was no hint of emotion there. His expression was also unreadable.

Jeongguk tore his gaze away from you when he realized that you were staring. As if this wasn't already awkward for him, you went on to say something that made him more uncomfortable.

"I've been waiting so long to meet you! Are you going to move in with me now?" You plopped down beside Jeongguk, squeezing your body between him and the arm of your sofa. Miri hissed since she was astounded by your sudden action. Actually, Jeongguk was surprised too. Your couch was pretty spacious; he didn't understand why you had to press yourself beside him.

Jeongguk also didn't know why you sounded so hopeful. The sparks in your eyes caused him to scowl; however, this didn't stop you from speaking your hopeless thoughts.

"We could do a lot of things together! I had planned everything since I was young!" You giggled. You didn't know why you were so comfortable telling him things. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you two were soulmates.

However Jeongguk was confused with your weird idea of wanting to do all of this romantic stuff with him. The uneasiness he felt couldn't be contained anymore when you abruptly talked about dating—as in dating him.

"Whoa, whoa..." He cut you off, arching his brow and moving away from you. "Slow down, will you? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh." You blushed, immediately realizing that you had gone too far. "I'm sorry I got carried away. I was just excited to meet you." You couldn't help but beam at him.

Jeongguk continued to raise his brow at you.

"Why? Are you really that desperate to find a roommate?"

It was your turn to raise a brow at him.

"N-No, I just..." You breathed in, unsure of what to say. "I'm just happy to finally meet my soulmate."

"Soulmate?"

You flinched because of the bitterness in his voice. His innocent eyes turned dark, he was glaring at you. Miri was startled once more. She jumped on your lap because she was getting scared of Jeongguk.

"I'm sorry to break it to you, but I don't believe in soulmates." The word 'soulmate' sounded so rough coming from him, making you flinch again.

Many people had told you that you were good at gauging the feelings of other people, this was why your heart skipped a beat when you saw pain and anger crossed Jeongguk's feature. It was as if he was betrayed by someone.

"It's the most absurd thing I've heard in my entire life. Only stupid people believe in soulmates. I mean—" Jeongguk sucked in a breath. He was so annoyed that he didn't even know how to express his thoughts without breaking apart. "It's limiting the possibilities for people. Why am I required to fall in love with someone I barely know? Why should I leave the person I truly love just because a person meant to be the love of my life," he paused, quoting the words love of my life in the air. "Helped me see colors? It's like forcing me to do something I don't—no, I can't do. It's such a burden. Love can't be bought. I refuse to be with people just because they helped me."

There was silence after Jeongguk's long speech of the reasons why he didn't—or as what he claimed—couldn't love you.

Jeongguk wetted his bottom lip. The silence was making him hate himself. He hated himself because he saw the tears forming in your eyes, an obvious sign that you were hurt because of what he said. But most importantly, he hated you.

It was unlikely of him to hate someone he just met—or to simply hate anyone at all, but everything about you was making him mad as hell.

He hated your hopeful eyes, he hated your beliefs, he hated that you were the person hindering him from being with Red.

He knew it was unfair to blame you since Red chose to leave on her own, but he still couldn't help himself because the idea of soulmate was what urged her to leave.

You were Jeongguk's soulmate and for him, it meant nothing. So with a furrowed brow, he stared hard at you as he said this:

"I'm making you choose right now. Either accept me as Jeongguk, your tenant or Jeongguk, your soulmate. But just so you know, I will never stay with you if you treat me like a soulmate."

His word stung, though you were aware that the only way to make him stay was to choose the former option. At least this way, you got to be with your soulmate.

The colors you see were starting to fade away and it was okay...

[pearthery]

some gintama fic recs:

some gintama fics from my ao3 bookmarks that i would like to yell about. a fair amount of these are oneshots that i'm very fond of, but every now and then a multi-chapter might pop up. one or two are hosted on ffnet! mostly gen, with some character pairings! they vary ahaha

i confess that my deepest affections lie often with yorozuya and shoka sonjuku/joui4 fics, with ventures into otose and her extended family, and that i may love gintoki too much, so my fic recs lean in that direction!

Needs More Bombs by Sinnatious — [gen] this one is a 259 word oneshot about zura (and bombs) and that's really all it is, ahaha

Thieves, Like Books, Should Not Be Judged By Their Covers by katjedi — [gintsu] a gintsu genderbend in a fantasy world!!!! to quote the tags, "Friendship! Effort! Victory!" ginko is very cute <3

Report on Incident No. 235908 Involving Vessel NKMA-01 by Yamazaki Sagaru (Age 32) by Apathy, saltedpin — [gen, a little bit of yamazaki > tama, but tama's emotions are rather ambiguous yknow] oh darn i dont quite know how else to describe this except that it feels Just like an episode, JUST like an early?middle? gintama kind of episode with silly shenanigans and the characters all being superbly dumb and aagh i laughed so much!!!!

the familiar and the great unknown by guycecil — [takagin, zuragin, sakagin, sakataka] wkkwidioqodjkajda i was delivered many heartbroken emotions by this joui4 era fic. the entire series aches, i love this author so much, but this particular gin-centric installation gives me especially melancholic emotions.

Afterlife is a country you don't need a visa for by MilwaukeeMeg — [gen] an alternate universe where shinpachi and kagura die before they ever meet gintoki (once again gintoki gets to see ghosts,,) BUT that certainly won't stop them from becoming beloved yorozuya fam <3

The 'Bottle' in 'Spin the Bottle' Is Surely A Euphemism For Alcohol by StarryDustandFluffyStuff — [zurataka, zuragin, sakagin, sakataka, sakazura] the plot is "sakamoto kisses anyone he wants" and it's an absolutely excellent plot, very very good, i support sakamoto's endeavours wholeheartedly. to quote the tags, silly and fun, with a dash of angst!! i very much like the sakamoto voice too!

you/him by ijustwanttodestroy — [takagin] as the tags say, there is Angst, there is Romance, there is Character Study (my goodness there is character study) the way the words flow in this makes me press my hands to my face and gasp. second person pov that makes me cry,,,

the lonely thief by Official_Biscuit_Moron — [gen] okay okay okay this is wonderful and wonderful and introspective and catherine-centric (stinky cat woman <3) biscuit's writing is soft and subtle and evocative, i never felt quite so deeply for catherine until This, there is so much love in the writing!!! aaaaghg gh

It's a Hard Knock Life by Linderosse — [gen] joui3,,, babies,,, modern au,,, some fluff some angst some emotional hurt and comfort, i really really like the characterisation of their childhood selves (like? a very strong sense of voice?) and the prose! the prose is so gentle, the atmosphere like? a sweet vague wash of emotion? (hm i'm sorry for being so inconcise with my descriptions and also my recommendations in general ahaha) this is part of a series, and the next part of the series is equally wonderful and perhaps delivers even more heartache (tempered with fluff,,)

they say the devil you know is better than the one you don't, but sometimes both devils are you and what are you supposed to do then, huh? by parangari — [gen] this one is kagura-centric oh Frick i don't know what else to say about this but? kagura stream of consciousness?? second person pov??? every word exudes emotion and the kagura voice rattles in my bones and the gintoki and the shinpachi you glimpse through kagura's voice are so very very Them i guess what i mean is aah i think it's superbly in-character!!!

When in Doubt, Shout by InfiniteInMystery — [sakagin, hijigin, hm, but mostly, Adventure, i think] in-progress multi-chapter gintama skyrim au!! there was a dragon at the start and it was cool, and i just think it is very neat! also the relationship between otose and gintoki in this is very sweet,,

ghost— by kapteeni — [gen] a series technically not a fic but series most certainly count too and this one made me cry and left an ache in my chest (an important criteria) worldbuilding is amazing and so is characterisation and relationships and everything, i remember reading this all in one go and afterwards i had lost my sense of self and was floating in a void of strange awe and euphoria and wistful wistful emotions <3 <3 <3 kapteeni wrenched my soul out of my body and i was grateful beyond words

The Most Important Things are Sometimes the Stupidest by dearfriendicanfly — [konhiji] kqoaifikqkakdjkakdjjajs i like it very much Nice Pacing Nice Characterisation Nice Yeah

funeral casket for my childhood by perennials — [kagunobu] i know perennials' gintama works as Tried and True Breakers of My Heart , this one was especially devastating to me, the title has haunted me for years, i feel so much melancholy at the ending

Tiger Mom by gettinyinggywithit — [gen] a little hint of gintsu, but mostly, it is about tsukuyo learning to be gentle when it was not what she was taught, and the prose is? smooth?? silk smooth? smooth like still water???

You and me and the Devil makes three by saveusmilkboy — [gen] this joui war fic buried itself into my soul it has nine chapters on ao3 and for the first few chapters the formatting has the paragraphs squashed together, i read it first on fanfiction.net and it is perhaps the single one first person pov oc fic that i have adored, i love mikkun, and more than that, i think how the author delves into the feeling of a war? it feels so grounded,, and outsider pov on the joui!! so much character building going on!! gintoki says cool speeches! zura sings "ma'am i'd like to fuck"!

Cradle Song by iphido — [ayano/tatsugoro, gen] cw: miscarriage. gorgeously written thoughtful piece about otose and motherhood. there is so much care in the writing, and iphido writes relationships that exude so much love, my goodness

If Love is in the Air, it's Time You Started Thinking About Getting an Air Conditioner — by Official_Biscuit_Moron — [kintoki/gintoki] ahahahaha biscuit is immensely talented at writing things that exude the ridiculous shenanigans of gintama daily life and this is Just One Of Them i will not say anything else except please read this kintoki goes through many ordeals and the dialogue is impeccably funny and sacchan is there!!!!!

What to Do About Tomorrow by Shirokokuro — [gen] shirokokuro's shoyo&gintoki centric content reaches right into my ribcage and wraps tenderly around my heart, it brings me SO much delight, so much affection, i love shiro's writing so much, vivid wonderful prose, settings and descriptions that make me feel like i am under sunlight and photosynthesising, dialogue and scenes that flow so smoothly and organically, i have So many words. now i will write words about the fic itself: wtdat is the multi-chapter shoyo-gin timeloop fic that my heart has always yearned for, aghgggh. the epitome of found family content, and you know what while i am at it, i would like to usher to the front the rest of shiro's gintama works, Alpenglow and An Armful of Azaleas because they are sweet and lovely and i love them

[weirdochick56]

Mr. Evans- Chris Evans AU Chapter Three

Teacher!Chris Evans x Student!Reader

Warnings: Teacher x student relationship. PANIC ATTACK. ANGST. FLUFF. A bit of violence being described, but it’s VERY mild.  

Disclaimers: I don’t own CE or you. 

Word Count: 4, 501 words

Read Chapter Two Here!!

***

(Gif isn’t mine!) 

You had no idea where you were going or what you were going to do, but you needed to get away from him. It was all becoming too real. Your crush, the one you’d been experiencing the darkest most forbidden depths of, was being flipped into something else. Something deeper and way scarier. You weren’t sure exactly what it had flipped over to but you did know one thing for sure: you were getting too close to him. 

Heart thumping loudly in your ears, you run full force towards the exit door to the right of the building. You didn’t know what time it was (though you assumed it was a bit late as the student parking lot was practically empty and the skies were a tad bit dark) or how you were going to get anywhere without Margo’s car, but it didn’t matter to you all that much at the moment. Nothing other than leaving the suffocating space did, in fact.

Loud footsteps thunder behind you and your eyes widen when you hear Mr. Evans’s out-of-breath voice call after you, closer than he had been before. 

“Y/n! Wait, please!” He’d come after you. He’d really, truly run after you!

You glance at the dark sky and take a deep breath, just before making the split-second decision to stop your progression to the door and turn around to face him. Almost immediately you regret the choice, knees already weak at the view of him so, so sinfully beautiful.

His strong chest rises and falls lightly and labored breaths leave his slightly parted pink lips as he comes to a halt in front of you. You eye him with caution, his beautiful torso, strong and proud, his bright blue hues, breath-taking and warm. This was all so fucking wrong to feel. 

But he’d come after you. He’d run after you and-

You hate to admit it, but you can feel your heart drop in disappointment when he holds up a familiar bag. Your bookbag. 

Oh. He’d only come after you for that. 

“You forgot this,” he says, looking into your eyes with intensity. You gulp, taking the bag from his hands. 

You avoid his gaze, averting your eyes from him and turning on your heel with a grateful nod. But that’s before his hand shoots out and he grips your wrist firmly. Your head snaps in his direction immediately as tingles ignite beneath the skin he was touching. 

He lets go clumsily when he sees you looking at his hand on your wrist with furrowed brows, apologizing quickly. “Sorry, I just-” he clears his throat. “Where are you going?” 

You inhale shakily. He was the last and first person you wanted near you at the moment. The first because something about him offered you such comfort after what you talked and last because it was dangerous to feel like that and you knew it. 

“Home.” Your answer is short, no intent on igniting anymore conversation with him and you’re sure he knows that when he flinches a little, hurt clear as day on his face.

He sighs. “Oh, okay.”

You offer him a tight-lipped smile and turn back around to leave before he blurts something out again. 

“Um! Do- I- doesn’t um,” He shoves his hands in his pocket as if to look casual. “Margo usually take you?”

You lick your lips, brows furrowed at the fact that even he knew that, and nod wordlessly. 

He notices your confusion and regains composure, clearing his throat. “Margo isn’t here,” he notes quietly. 

You hum in agreement. “Yes, and?” 

He shrugs casually. “How do you plan to get home then?”

You laugh a little at the question, still very confused by his intentions. “Walking?” 

He quirks a brow. “Is your house far from here?”

You don’t know how to answer him. Because suddenly, seeing him standing there, so unfairly beautiful, you’re not that desperate to leave him behind or be anything but close to him. 

Something about the way he spoke to you, looked at you with those amazing eyes of his... with a secret kind of intention, it left you breathless and your knees weak and suddenly, you were just a bit more than hesitant to leave it.

It was like your soul called to his naturally, yearned for his nearness. You knew the reaction your body had to him wasn’t a good sign already. You came alive when he was near. Your every nerve was ignited instantly on and when he looked at you, your body felt like it was being put in an oven. 

So you decide to answer honestly but vaguely, still unclear on his intentions with the seemingly directionless question. 

“A bit.”

His beautiful blue eyes intensify with concern for you. “And you’re walking alone?”

You chew on your lip, shrugging. “I guess.” 

He looks at you incredulously. “Are you kidding me?”

You shrug timidly. “No. Not really.”

He shakes his head at you, stepping closer. “I’m taking you, c’mon.” 

You look up at him with wide eyes, not believing your ears. “W-what?”

He raises his brows. “I’m taking you home, Y/n. It’s too late for you to walk alone all the way to your house.” 

Your heart races in your chest and your head becomes faint. “B-but...don't you have other things to do?” you squeak, shock and excitement swirling through your system as he stands directly next to you. 

He shrugs. “School’s been over for twenty minutes anyway. I don’t think anyone would mind at this point.” He pauses and releases a regretful sigh. “But you want to leave this place and I’m taking a wild guess and saying the reason behind it is me.” 

He’s clearly aware the topic was a tad bit too sensitive for you and that’s why you had bolted, but it’s also crystal clear in those stunning eyes of his that he felt guilty. But guilty about what exactly?

You go to protest his words, but he holds his hand up to stop you, his gaze soft. “Don’t worry sweetheart. It doesn’t matter either way. I’m just not going to let you walk home alone and have something happen to you because of my damn pushiness.” 

And with those magical words, he motions you to follow him with a jerk of his head as he steps out.

*

Mr. Evans had unlocked the car for you and ran back for something he’d allegedly forgotten in his classroom. He’d urged you to get in and wait or him to get back. 

You attempted to protest, but he’d already run off. You find your lip in between your teeth all of a sudden when your eyes land on his perfect, firm ass, running back into the tall red-bricked building. 

Oh sweet merciful God. You groan softly under your breath. 

Why did he have to be so hot?

After a few moments of an internal struggle between getting into the air conditioner or bolting, you ultimately, and quite awkwardly, clamber into the passenger side of his car, swallowing thickly. The cool air felt good against your sun-heated skin and you sigh a bit in relief. 

Not to mention the smell of his aftershave and distinctly intoxicating scent enveloping you almost immediately and a warm glow settles on the pit of your stomach. God, he smelled good. Like coffee, brand new papers with a hint of cologne and spicy cinnamon. Masculine yet casual. 

Mr. Evans.

You can’t help but inhale deeply through your nose and close your eyes for a few seconds, attempting to remain calm. Not that it helped your nerves at all though. In fact, having his ridiculously delicious smell all around you only made you ache for him more.

And then you lean back in the seats and massage your temples. What in the holy hell were you fucking thinking, accepting his offer? Even if it was more about his guilt than any actual desire on his behalf to be near you, it was still a dumb ass decision to say yes to him.

But even as you tried to convince yourself of this, you know it’s not what you truly feel. Because you wanted to be near him, even if you denied it constantly. He was addictive. His presence, his being near yours was addictive and intoxicating. You didn’t want to be apart from him. And even when you freaked after talking to him...you couldn’t help but relive the talk over and over in your head. You try to bite back a small smile.

His face was still so vivid in your mind. It wasn’t full with pity. Sadness, yes. But pity? No. He was looking at you with something else...something far more valuable. Perhaps the reason you felt so endangered. 

He was looking at you with understanding. 

He was looking at you like your soul was stripped bare and easy for him to simply...have a look at. 

And that. ...that terrified you to the bone. You wanted to stay away. Not only was it wrong, but he was also your teacher, a person in power and the whole idea was just...utterly insane. But you were also fully aware that your heart was exposed and mighty easy to stomp on. 

He was your goddamn teacher, far older than you, far more experienced and way hotter. And still...it never stopped you from wanting to be near him any way you could. 

Because he was your drug. And the thing about drugs is; once you have a taste of them and eventually realize they make you feel good, make the painful memories all the bad thoughts go away, make your faded scars become just a little less of a painful reminder, it’s hard to quit. To stay away. 

So try as you might, you couldn’t stop. And here you were, in Mr. Evans’s car, faintly reminiscing a dream you’d had about him. It happened in what you imagined was his car and the windows were damp with your condensed sweat, you could still envision the love bites he’d left in his passionate wake on your flushed, aching skin and the- 

You tremble as something stirs in between your legs. You clench your thighs together, shaking your head and ridding yourself of the thoughts. 

Your heart flutters impossibly and your face flushes heatedly when you see him walk towards his car through the window, the sun perfectly hitting his beautiful blue eyes, giving them a lighter shade and a special kind of sparkle. The golden hairs on his head and arms and stubble glimmer charmingly, the sun only making the outline of his mouth-watering body more prominent. 

Your jaw all but drops at the view and you’re sure you’re on the verge of drooling when his gaze abruptly meets yours, snapping you out of your trance. Flustered, you avert your gaze with a blush, hugging your bookbag closer to your chest and fumble with it on your lap as you waited for him to round the car and get in.

The whole situation was crazy. It was a small town you lived in so this wasn’t all that weird. Some kids in your school caught rides with their teachers sometimes. Maybe it wasn’t particularly weird due to the fact that the next morning they’d probably bump into them at the local deli or cafe. It was just a tiny town where everyone knew everyone. Not that you were aware of Mr. Evans’s. Generally, he was a private guy and kept to himself. 

People in the town talked though. Some of them pointed out he’d come just after his wife died and had taken the job of English teacher in the only high school around. Others talked about the fact that he was never seen in any social events of significance. They sneered at the notion. Called him a hermit.

But you understood. You knew exactly why he avoided those things. Mr. Evans was different from the stuck up people living in this town. He was sweet and genuine and himself. He never tried to be anything other than that. You admired deeply him for it and knew first hand how hard it was to do just that in a place like this one. Full with obnoxious, stick-up-my-ass, perfect people. 

And of course the man looked like a fucking God, so although the gossiping ladies of the town sneered at his lack of attendance in “important” social gatherings, they were also very well aware of his good looks and passed the time talking about it equally as much.

It bothered you that they treated him like a piece of meat. He was so much more than that. Comprehensive, kind, gentle, passionate about his job, and deserving of only the greatest things life could offer. He was a giving person- selfless.

Like now, he was giving you a ride. When he climbs in his scent only strengthens and so does the forceful thumping against your ribs.

He silently peels off the school parking lot and you gulp, mumbling your address to him. He doesn’t say anything at first, but his eyes snap over to you briefly every once in a while. 

After a few minutes of you scrolling through your phone silently and him taking his eyes off the road to look over at you constantly, he finally speaks. “I’m sorry.” 

Your head snaps to his so fast, you’re surprised you don’t get whiplash. “W-what?” 

He sighs heavily through his nose and licks his lips nervously. “Clearly I made you feel uncomfortable and that’s the last thing I want sweetheart.” 

“You really haven’t-”

“I shouldn’t have pried and now you-”

“Mr. Evans! You really didn’t do anything. I was the one who decided to tell you and that’s because I trust you. All you did was listen.” You smile softly at him when his head snaps from the road to you quickly. “Really.” 

He releases a small sigh of relief and smiles lightly. “Okay.” 

Silence takes over the vehicle again and you shift uncomfortably in the plush leather seat. The tension was thick in the atmosphere and you were using up all your energy not to simply lean over and kiss him. 

“Thank you for that by the way.” You rush to explain when he sends you a furrowed brow. “For listening to me, I mean,” you finally say quietly, no longer able to bear the heavy silence and desperate to make it go away. 

He bites his lip lightly and your heart skips a beat. So damn kissable... 

“No problem sweetheart, anytime.” He hesitates. “Though, and I’m sorry for prying further- you know what? Never mind.” 

You raise a brow at him. “No, what?” 

He shakes his head. “Nothing, really it’s okay.” 

You snort then grin. “Nope. Now that you’ve mentioned it you have to tell me. It’s a rule.”

He chuckles a little and you all but melt into a puddle on his seat. “C’mon,” you urge. 

He sighs a little. “Well, it’s gonna sound weird, but...something tells me you don’t get heard a lot.” 

You freeze immediately. It was true. You didn’t. But...

“Why would you say that?” You try really hard to make your voice sound even. 

He shrugs, swallowing thickly. It was clear he’d seen the sudden stiffening up of your muscles at his observation. “Nothing much really. Just your eyes...”

“My eyes?” You frown lightly. 

He speaks softly, cautiously. Like he’s afraid you’ll run off again. “Yeah, when I spoke to you, they looked...I don’t know. Relieved?” 

Oh fuck, oh fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He picked up on it. 

Your heart speeds up and you get slightly light-headed. This was bad. This was really bad. And triggering. Because if he’d been able to pick up on your desperation to have a single, heartfelt conversation, he understood it was not a normal occurrence for you and that your home life was crap. 

Dammit. Why did you have to be so fucking readable? You couldn’t bear the thought of him knowing more about your life at home. Or about- No. Not only bear but fathom it. You couldn’t fathom the thought of him seeing past you once more. The notion sent your head spiraling, thoughts spinning around in circles.

“H-Here’s fine,” you manage to stumble amidst your brain’s constant chatter. 

Mr. Evans’s head snaps in your direction and he frowns softly. “What?” 

“Here’s fine Mr. Evans. I can walk the rest of the way home,” your voice is soft and pleading, your heart thumping in your ears. 

He swallows audibly. “Sweetheart, I don’t think-”

“Stop the car please.” Your voice is firm this time, but your brain is still mush and your heart feels exhausted.

He sighs dejectedly and you feel sort of bad, but don’t budge on your resolve. Finally, pulls the car over to the side of a road, familiar houses coming into your view. 

Realization dawns on you and you quickly realize the reason they look familiar is that your house was only a few blocks away from the place he and you were currently parked in. 

That means it would be easy to simply walk. So why weren’t you moving?

You know you want to get out. You need to leave. You know this, especially, because your heart is suddenly racing, your body working up a sweat faster than it ever has. 

Sitting in silence, your body freezes and no matter how much you tell it to move, beg it to bolt again, it doesn’t listen. Your limbs felt like they weighed a thousand tons and breathing was becoming harder to accomplish with each passing second. To top it all off, your stupid brain was clogged. Completely jammed and unable to form a coherent thought other than spewed nonsense that only served to fuel your abrupt panic. 

Thoughts of what happened to you-

You want to curl up into a ball and cry for some reason but are still very aware of Mr. Evans’s presence and the fact that you haven’t said anything for several seconds. 

He looks over at you when your panting becomes audible. “Y/n?” 

His voice sounds far away and you immediately attempt to ignore him because -for some reason- the thought of him not being close to you right now causes even more panic to rise in your chest. It begins heaving up and down, up and down, faster, faster, faster. Emotions you normally kept bottles up resurfaced all of a sudden and tears prick the back of your eyes and nose. You squeeze them shut, prompting the warm tears to slide down your cheeks even faster. 

Your brain kept bringing up memories. Unwanted thoughts and ideas and images of the past you had done your very best to keep locked up and far away from you. 

You losing control in front of Mr. Evans was not an option. If he could already read you like an open book, what made you think he wouldn’t eventually figure everything about you out? And then he definitely wouldn’t like you. 

This was bad. You could feel the panic and dread swelling in your chest, inflating rapidly. And that only made you even more anxious as the memories- more horrific than you remembered- flooded your being.

Sobs bubble up your throat and you vomit them out, whimpering softly. You still hold onto the hope that Mr. Evans isn’t spectating your mental meltdown right now. 

No, no, no, no, no. Can’t lose control. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. Not here please, not here. You squeezed your eyes even tighter, your hands clutching at the leather seats under you desperately, attempting to keep the memories at bay. Trying to keep yourself grounded somehow. Not to float away into your own brain like you often found yourself doing.

Your heart drowned out any other sound -the running engine, the low whirring of the air conditioner, Mr. Evans’s frantic voice calling out to you. And beads of sweat mixed in with the salty tears. 

Regain control. Regain control. But no matter how much you said it, prayed it even, your brain wasn’t functioning. It just wasn't. And that made you panic even more.

“Sweetheart?” he calls out louder this time, voice so damn concerned. 

So far away. So, so, far away. But you needed him. Needed him to hold you to his chest. That’ll never happen, your cruel brain reminds. Never.

Sobs, more aggressive than the others, rack your body and breathing is now practically impossible. The feeling of dread and utter horror takes over your every sense, kidnapping your every forming thought and transforming it into rope. A rope that’s mighty and currently binding you. It leaves you with no defense against your own brain and the images of the past it insists on making known. Your arms are tied so tightly to your sides by this rope, you could feel the circulation being cut off. 

No control. No control. It leaves your grasp. Slowly, slowly. Your reach out, but the control runs faster and faster. You try to run after it but...it disappears before your eyes into the inky blackness. 

You closed your eyes in order to regain composure, and for a moment -but a mere second- you see it coming back. The control. ...But then all you feel is dread washing over your entire being all over again and it’s gone with the cold chill whisking past you and leaving you out in the cold once more. 

It’s going to happen again.

The thought is enough to terrify you to the bone and leave you a wheezing mess, desperate for air, gasping.

Too much. Too much. Too much. It’s all too much. 

You claw at your head, tugging your hairs briskly in between your hair. “Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up.” You chant the words under your breath over and over, as if you were a witch and they were spells. As if they could magically make your brain shut up. 

It all happens so fast. You go to curl into a ball in the leather seats. To tug your knees to your chest and place your head in between them and stay there for as long as necessary, company be damned. 

But suddenly, a big warm hand rests on your shoulder and you all but jump out of your skin. Your head snaps to Mr. Evans, vision blurry with tears and heart struck with terrifying horror. 

You can’t believe you’re actually doing it here. With him here.

He looks at you with brief panic in the eyes, his own searching desperately for something to do with the mess you were currently. Trying to figure out what it was you needed from him. 

And then, they soften with realization at your fear-stricken eyes and the quick rise and fall of your chest. Then, he doesn’t waste a second acting upon his new understanding of what was happening. 

You were having a panic attack. He knew this. Now he needed to do something with his lightly trembling hands. 

And then suddenly, he’s leaning over and pulling you to his chest. His chest, the one you’d been daydreaming about being pulled to for almost seven months. And it’s stronger and wider and even more warm than you could’ve hoped for. You’re shocked into complete stillness. His nose digs into your hair and a sob lodges itself in your throat at the sudden movement and you almost choke on it, arms hanging indecisively in the air, unsure of what to do. Too far gone you assume, you freeze up.

 But... his arms are strong and equally warm as they wrap around you securely, the intention of letting you go soon nowhere in sight. He’s holding you firmly to him, his warmth slipping through his clothes into your skin. He didn’t even hesitate a second, big long-fingered hand reaching up tenderly and caressing your hair. Like you were expensive china he was afraid to break if he tugged on too hard. But because of that same fear, he also held onto you like you were going to fall apart any moment. Which you were.

“Sh, sh, sh,” he coos in your ear and you whimper softly in response.

You don’t bother thinking too much about it further and do what comes naturally. What feels right. Quickly, you securely wrap your arms tightly around his neck. Your nose digs into his neck instinctively and you immediately inhale deeply, painfully aware of your chests currently completely flush against each other and the fact that he could probably feel your fast-beating heart. You just prayed he mistook it as your anxiety. 

His other hand wraps around your upper back securely and he rubs it comfortingly. “Calm down sweetheart, I’m here. I’m here. You’re safe. I’ve got you.” 

Your fingers clutch the soft fabric of his shirt tightly and you hang onto him for dear life.  

The soothing words being mumbled into your ear strangely work. He keeps repeating things like “I’ve got you” And “Don’t worry you’re safe with me” and although you can feel him tremble a little in frenzy, the way he holds and comforts you...you’d almost believe that was what he was born to do. 

Soon, enough his continuous comfort flicks a switch in your brain. And suddenly...it all goes silent. You want to sigh in relief, but you’re too busy relishing in the tranquil silence and the far too blissful feeling of Mr. Evans’s arms wrapped around you. 

His scent is all around you, thick in the air and there’s something strangely comforting about it, if not calming. His chest rises lightly up and down against yours, the rhythm and steady beating of his heart lulls your aggressive, ugly, snot-filled weeping to gentle sobs and your own heart rate slows down gradually to match his. 

He never once lets go of you throughout this process, his words deep and sincere and voice rich with worry but stability all at once. He never stops mumbling sweet nothings into your ear, reassuring you of his presence constantly. Of your safety with him. 

Normally, being constricted like this by someone’s arms, especially ones as muscular as Mr. Evans’s, would make your anxiety worse. But the way he held you to him and spoke to you...being with him brought you peace. You didn’t know how or why he was doing it, but one thing was clear to you at the moment. Probably the only thing; he was just what you needed right now. 

Neither of you moves for a long moment, just stay there, drowning in the tranquility. You’re not thinking about the how’s or why’s of the embrace just yet. Not about why it’s wrong or if it’s wrong at all.

Because right now, this is all you need. 

Read Chapter Four Here!!

*

Hey guys! So here’s the new chapter three! 

Tbh, I don’t know if it’s better than the last one, but it’s definitely more realistic. Also short. Idk wtf happened, but I’d just finished having a panic attack at the time this was written and needed to get it off my chest I guess...

Anywho, please let me know what you think and if you want to be tagged in any shape way or form! i’m open to messages and asks and whatever you’d like!

A Special Thanks To: (Note; If you are in bold, then I couldn’t tag you. Please let me know if I’ve made a mistake or otherwise and then I’ll tag you.)

@bombsandsparkles

@meowsekai

@godohammers

@sp2900

@multifandom-foreverx

@missbosstown

@supernaturalyloki

@jungkooksbowlingskills

@spettrocoli

@woodworthti666

@tshollandlove

@weirdvishy

@buckysrcse

@doritoevansxwinterschildren

@superwholockwannabe  

@emmiejames

@rissamonique97

@zofty15

@sarcasticalphaofthelooserspack

@sydneynix8305

@badkatthings  

@pinnedandneedled

@taliarosej00

And of course my forevers!

@jessikared97

@sherlockedtash88

@lilypalmer1987

@mogaruke

[the-cadent-roses]

Goodbye World

October 26th 2022 (188)

._+ Mis-eye-ventures Day XCIII+_.

A story shall be told right now, a story of long walks and lost causes, of dances and laments, of standing and laughing, grieving, enjoying life, a story of People's instinctive travels and the paths of rhythm.

As far as life is concerned with me, humans are always a matter of crashing like comets, irredeemable attractions, wether you dodge at the last moment, or you destroy a galaxy with a black hole, wether you fuse perfectly or Push it Along, your life will change every single time.

We should know better, right, not to taste the Luck of Lucien, not to play ourself, risking oir asses upon a passing star?

After Hours of crossed streets, of closed beats, of lost bets, after burning your shoes and placing your goons, after reading a million maps, and killing a million rats, after all this you must, recognize you are still lost.

The burning sands take pity on you, miserable fool, a set of evenly spaced Footprints mark, perhaps, your only way back. Will you traverse those miserable swamps on a loose promise?

Eyes blades knifes, gazes places laces, danger anger lingers. Ten thousand throbbing tile blue eyes stare you down, strip you of your senses, your fears consume you, you run and run, gone. Far enough, you place your hand near your chest and realize: "I left my Wallet in El Segundo".

Welcome is not a word that fits you, you are well known around, you are well disliked too, you are their Public Enemy, you know this well, yet you try. Don't you get tired? Don't you feel lonely? Don't you have nowhere else to go?

A wide-hips angels lends you a hand, Bonita Applebum, one crazy enough to care for a lost fool like you and I.

You both get immediately along, you walk holding hands and sharing corny thoughts, you see a small can in the floor and mind yourself: "Can I kick it?". Before you can resolve the inquire, Bonita sprints and kicks it anyway. Such fun, how much will it last?

The old guard 'round the block sees you two nimrods, and canes their way in scolding angst. Fore they drop a word or two upon thee, you blame it on a simple reason, the Youthful Expression of your innocence. They don't buy it, but their angry canes are no match for your floaty feet.

Lighting a marquee in queer hues you read: "Rhythm (Devoted to the Art of moving Butts)". You firmly believe that is the place to go, to be wild and free, right?

Mr. Muhammad catches a glimpse of you two lovey-doveys going upstairs, where the hardcore fellows spend their aimless nights, grabs your arm in a swift and soft motion, dead in the eye whispers: "Be sure to not regret it".

You knew what was about to happen, is as simple as Ham 'N' Eggs, she'll meet a worthy soul, a strong baller, short lived perhaps, but filled with luxury and a presence rarely found, pure youthful exuberance, mixed with unapologetic harshness, she'll let your hand go, she'll grab his, they'll all laugh, you'll want to cry, but you won't want them too see, no, not them, so you'll run downstairs like a thunder, Mr. Muhammad will glance at you, knowing well why the rain had so suddenly commenced.

A lonely lost lament, you are once more where you started, walking aimlessly through a city that wants to see you dead, Go ahead in the Rain, let it damp you, feel it's cold embrace, may you make it safely back home, may you have a home to come back, may you tell this story another day, may it be in steadier footing.

This words narrate the vicisitudes of one lost soul, describe it's corners and streets to a teeth. This words are me, they are you, this is the Description of a Fool.

~Roses~

P.S. If you wonder what the heck is this... Search any of the colorful words in your preferred music platform and you shall find your rhythmically expressed answer.