#apologies everyone art school has been exhausting!

[neteyammeowmeow]

sorry for my absency… have this scribble of bloydfam

and my good friend @aurorababe999 ‘s drawing includinh a special guest ^_^

[doxolove]

Loneliness-

(tw: mental health, trauma)

I started using the Internet at a young age to cure the loneliness around me. My parents were absent, I was incessantly bullied from second to sixth grade in elementary school. Being part of the county's first Spanish immersion program meant my bullies continued to be in my class every year.

The only thing they couldn't bully me over was art. They were nice to me when they wanted a power ranger or a Pokemon drawing– so it became a valuable tool for me to use.

I've used fandom and art most of my life to heal my own volatile attachment wounding. In conjunction to that, I developed severe codependency of anyone who gave me any time of day… It wasn't until I found myself again and again that being a ‘doormat’ for other people was/is exhausting. It wasn't until my best friend at the time said they used that to their advantage on purpose, that I started to feel disgusted at all.

Even after realizing this, I was still suffering from unchecked mental pain and trauma that I wasn't specially aware of. I let myself get into situations where this pain clashed severely against others around me. My pain in turn made me an ugly person.

I started to get help. I finally was diagnosed with depression and type 2 diabetes. The overwhelming exhaustion clouding me all hours of the day wasn't just my own apathy, it was an a1c of eleven, the cusp of a diabetic coma. This shook me to my core. With regular doctor visits and psychiatric evaluation, I finally have been able to regulate my blood sugar and non existent serotonin levels. Doing so shook me out of other things I was still doing. Things that still hurt me and those around me.

Not being aware of how bad I was at coping with my own traumas was a reality hard learned. I've lost so many friends from this negligence… But also? Lost more ‘friends’ when the free ride of using me as a doormat was over. That persons will try to punish you for setting boundaries. That it's your fault they can't cope with their own trauma a more healthy way.

That's fucking bullshit.

Everyone is exhausting. Dealing with yourself and your own traumas? Exhausting. But what came down as a more harsh reality, is that empathy for this doesn't exist in most people. That empathy itself, is something most will never achieve. I've always wondered why not very many want to understand why conflict actually exists, what two sides of an argument look like. What acknowledgement of miscommunication actually is. It's really sad. When things like purity policing, smear campaigning and becoming a flying monkey still exist? Nobody has actually grown out of bullying being a normal fucked up thing humans do to each other instead of communicating properly.

So it's come full circle– but I at least know why it's happening now. Strangers will find any excuse to push their own unchecked pain onto someone else, instead of resolving a core issue. There are people in this world who will never realize their pain will never be relieved from the unhealthy dismissal of responsibility for their own health and how they treat others.

Do I use the Internet to cure my loneliness still? Hell no. Does a vast majority still do? Yes. You can still meet genuine people through it, through community and play– but it's still your responsibility to make sure the way you cope with your own traumas doesn't become someone else's problem.

I no longer use my art to cure loneliness either– probably for the first time since I was very young. I'm unsure if I still want to put additional thoughts out in the open after being bullied off a platform– but I've always put them here. So this will probably be the last time I post them in the void.

I treasure everyone who's taken time to cure my loneliness for any brief moment of time, I still hold that close to my heart. I apologize for the pain miscommunication has caused between some of us, even if it's not my apology to give. So many met me while I was suffering and in a lot of pain… Your kindness gave me hope I'd find means to it's end. I'm sorry I wasn't strong enough to cope with my own traumas then.

I'm in a far better place now. I'm happy to exist along side people who genuinely love me. People who have proven communication can solve everything and not being afraid to be real and vulnerable. I am so very happy to be alive with them.

I have found value in myself, I've worked so very hard to understand my own traumas and shortcomings. Loving people in my life have taught me much better ways to cope. I'm still growing and learning, that will never stop.

Will I still share art online? Maybe. There's not a big desire to, nor will the urge to join communities ever surface again– generation gaps time and time again have proven so dangerous and disappointing. If I share art it's for the sake of sharing what gives me joy, there's no ulterior purpose anymore.

I would hope everyone will come this far and find healthy ways to cope and be happy, I know we all can do it if we believe we can.

[mrspockify]

I have been thinking about your mute Mario hc where he is forced to speak even though it really hurts and like... giving talks in school must have been hell for him. Talking for 15 to 30 minutes non-stop I can't even imagine how much this must've hurt.

(ksadfj sorry just something that came to my mind because I had to give a talk today)

Nooo don't apologize, I love this! I actually think a lot about how my version of mute Mario would have been while he was in school.

You're absolutely right that having to give talks was hell for him. The only one who hated presentation days more than Mario was Luigi, who dreaded having to sit helplessly at his desk and watch his brother struggle while everyone's eyes were on him. And on the rare occasion when Mario would get up there and the words just wouldn't come? Having to watch his brother shut down in front of the whole class and stand in silence until the teacher stepped in? Torture for them both.

In general, school was awful. At a very young age he was pulled from class to be put in speech therapy and special ed (which was bad enough for him, but even worse since it meant being torn away from Luigi for a large portion of the day). He was alone and scared and felt like he had no choice—and honestly, he kind of didn't. Kids are pretty much at the mercy of the system.

Unfortunately he learned pretty early that it was quicker (and sometimes easier, in a way) to just listen to what his teachers told him to do. If they wanted him to speak, he'd force it out, just to get it over with and be put back into class sooner. He'd come back exhausted and almost in tears.

If you know anything about tracking in the education system, you know this means that Mario was pretty much set up to fail in school. Teachers knew he was considered "difficult," and most treated him as such. Some teachers made it even worse by choosing to call on him to answer things more often than other students. "It's so he has the practice," they would justify. They'd grade him more harshly for his presentations, picking apart every long silence and clearing of his throat. It was targeted, and it was cruel.

There were a few beacons of light along the way, which was probably the only reason Mario didn't fully give up and drop out. I think he had a particularly close relationship with an art teacher in middle school who basically took him under her wing. He never had to speak in her classroom. She let him use whatever supplies he wanted, whenever he wanted them. He had total freedom in her class, and for a long time it was the only place in school that he could feel relaxed and like he could actually express himself. It wasn't enough to make him like going to school, but it was at least a little reprieve during his day.

[hphmmatthewluther]

June: Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests

I've finally found time to do a prompt for @hp-12monthsofmagic !! I took a somewhat unorthodox approach to the prompt, but either way I hope everyone likes it!!

All ocs involved are my own, but there's a lil reference to @the-al-chemist 's Hexley Saga in there too!

(a cute picrew of a sleepy matt i made a while back as a bonus)

Oftentimes in Wizarding Education, certain students will come across their own ancestors within the school curriculum, or perhaps the precise spell or potion required for them to surpass a problem they are facing at the time. We therefore give leniency whenever said students decide to be a little snarky when it comes to things that appear in their N.E.W.T. exam which may have either helped them in their school years, or perhaps tried to kill them. Some examples from both recent years and in the past are shown below to show examiners what sort of sarcastic jabs to accept (after all, it is technically a form of showing your working.) - Professor Tofty

Defence against the Dark Arts : True or False: All forms a Boggart can take can be transformed into something to be laughed at with Riddikulus or defeated at all. Explain your answer.

“False - sometimes the fears they show are too traumatic or inescapable to be changed by Riddikulus. However, the statement also says that they cannot be defeated at all, which according to conventional magic is true but recent developments in wandless magic mean that boggarts can be transformed into things that provide hope with the spell Gratia Salutaris (If this has not been recognised by the curriculum yet, I apologise)” - Matthew Luther, 1991 (he would make several more apologies in his answers throughout the exams)

Herbology: Outline and Evaluate the use of flesh-eating slugs to clear weeds of magical and non-magical varieties.

“To use flesh-eating slugs would be a disastrous idea for a variety of reasons, for instance the possible damage they could do to the magic of the natural area if they are allowed to graze freely much like miniature cattle, the fact that they are unable to discriminate between what qualifies as a weed and what is a desired plant, that the use of the word “weed” is fundamentally flawed as it removes any possible uses the plant might have; as a matter of fact these slugs might accidentally destroy a weed which holds the cure for dragon pox within, just because some fool thought it didn’t fit with his lawn. The flesh-eating may also be a problem, I suppose.” - Atticus Doherty, 1890’s (this is one of 19 examples of snark within Mr Doherty’s Herbology N.E.W.T. answers)

Care of Magical Creatures: Explain why Acromantula in Britain have been deemed unapproachable despite them being sentient creatures.

“Because they’re all, pardon my French, assholes. In a place like New York, an acromantula’s gonna be all too willing to help you out if a sorcerer gets lost in that brilliant, sprawling city. In Britain, meanwhile, they wouldn’t even lift a leg to help a student out who got trapped in a Forest, even if they’d been cursed with sleepwalking and unable to wake up until some crystal in a Vault got broken. The Acromantula just thinks that all that means a free meal, and until they stop seeing humans in need as free meals, they’re not gonna get to join the cool spiders in New York, who actually contribute to society, like how they inspired Spider-Man.” - Mayson Kowalski, 1992 (MACUSA recently asked if they could use Mr Kowalski’s answers to help inform their travel brochures to the magical part of New York City.)

Potions: “Amortentia should be made illegal.” To what extent do you agree, using evidence from your knowledge of potion-making?

“Amortentia is quite possibly one of the most dangerous potions in existence and yet it is still often sold very freely from joke shops. While I understand that their use is something of a tradition, it is one that needs to be halted as soon as possible. While the moral reasons for limiting the use of the potion are obvious, in terms of potion-making there is no general consensus in the potioneering community on just how powerful Amortentia can be, what the long-term effects of its use are, or if it can have a negative impact during pregnancy (trialling of which would be very much unethical, even by Wizarding standards). Furthermore, when brewed incorrectly the potion can gather something of an intelligence in order to create hallucinations and entice nearby people to drink from it, which directly contravenes ethical guidelines on trust towards intelligent magical items that lack an obvious physical brain. If I were to list the moral reasons too, I would be here all day.” - Joseph J. Luther, 1991 (examiners reported twice as much “unprofessional” language from this question than any other question)

Divination: Predict how many marks you will receive for your answer to this question based on your own chosen method of divining future events.

“From my predictions, I foresee that I will get full marks, on this question at least. Of course, this is partially influenced by how much I want to get a good score, as well as the general loopiness of this question. Furthermore, it lets me do something rather interesting to demonstrate my divinatory power, namely that every time someone reads over this answer, a bird will fly just outside the window. If I’m right, you can give me full marks!” - Jane Luther, 2015 (Ms. Luther’s exams are to be held in the Department of Mysteries once they have been marked and whatever magic her answers have caused has been cleaned up, and you are asked to scorch out her questions on this example sheet when you are done with it, not only for the sake of our understanding of magic, but so that you do not have a flock of birds outside your window - something Professor Tofty discovered the hard way.)

Charms: Explain why the use of chronomancy is so limited for sorcerers.

“The main reason is that human reflexes aren’t capable of the constant exact rhythm needed to perform time magic. Sort of like trying to pat your head and rub your stomach at the same time, a sorcerer would need to perform so many movements at such precise times that it is likely that they would never get more than a few seconds backwards or forwards on their own, barring freak accidents. To combat this though, I think that the use of non-magical technologies such as clockwork could be vital in solving this. With something like a pocket watch a person could use the precise rhythms created by gears and mechanisms to complete that part of the spell and hey presto, chronomancy is far easier!” -Frederick Graham, 1890s. (While this was marked harshly at the time, when Mr. Graham helped to invent the time turner soon after leaving school his grade was retroactively raised from a P to an E, and that marker was fired for incompetence and a general lack of creativity.)

History of Magic: Why was there a degree of resistance to the creation of Hogwarts in the 10th century?

“Simply put, the many lords and nobles of the British Isles at the time all had something of a temper tantrum when it was suggested that the mages they relied on should be treated with a modicum of respect and privacy. They tried their hardest to convince sorcerers working for them to actively combat any attempt to make Hogwarts a reality, helped in part by the Silver Kingdom of the Changelings. However, it could be argued that this was more a hindrance than a help as it soon tied the nobles to the fate of the Silver Kingdom, but because the question only asked “why” I can simply leave my answer here.” - Trinity Reynolds, 1999 (History of Magic has seen a remarkable increase of snark in recent years after the sucking off (the technical term for a ghost moving on to the afterlife) of Professor Binns.)

These examples form a common trend of trying to cope with the immense pressure that N.E.W.T.s bring to students of Hogwarts. While it is certainly true that they must revise a great deal of content and write it in a way that is understandable, the manner of how they present that information is mostly up to them; thus, being teenagers almost finished with schooling and likely in a swelteringly hot room, showing one’s work through snark becomes a desirable option, and one that we have grown to accommodate for. - Professor Tofty.

[phantominzie]

Hello everyone! I must apologize for the lack of art as of late, the school has started back up again and I haven't found any motivation after being exhausted afterwards. Regarding my second blog @askthebeetlebois, I might be answering asks' on paper or traditionally for the time being. It would just be easier for me to doodle these when I get motivation at school :). Hopefully I can being making more digital drawing like you guys are used too, it'll just take some time. And for whoever followed me from Ao3, I will get back to writing soon I promise! Again, school has been a kick in the teeth and my home life surely isn't helping. However I have my friends, online and irl to keep me chugging along, so thank you guys so much you mean the world to me :). Alrighty then, let's hop to it! Thanks for reading my small update :).

[savetooru]

slideshow memory theater

last weekend i went to see a movie with some friends from high school and one of them pulled me aside to be like: "do you remember one of the first times we spoke? it was in the wing where they always made us line up for assembly and you were asking me if the art for this series got better over time." i didn't. this must have been close to eight years ago. another friend, who first introduced me to haikyuu!!, quickly chimed in with a "no, she asked me the exact same thing in history club. right before we watched magic mike xxl." that last bit could have been a joke, though it probably isn't. regardless, i didn't really remember it either. sophomore year was surprisingly busy for me, so i imagine i must have spent the rest of that period catching up on sleep. days later and thinking about this has made me feel all gooey on the inside. like the frame of an old sliding door. like the inside of a freshly-baked cookie or the box you kicked under your bed the summer of 2009 and never opened again. how many of my memories do other people keep? i've talked a bit about how i'm quick to pick myself up; a large part of this can be attributed to the fact that the more present i am in a moment the easier it is to let that moment go. whether it be painful, embarrassing, transformative, or just plain good, my brain is usually satisfied to forget once it decides i've wrung as much out of it as i can. for this reason, in-betweens are more vivid to me than anything else. in a way, i'm still living them. but what are in-betweens, anyway? a convenient means for me to explain why i come across so reserved, mostly. you know, because nothing i retain ever feels like that big of a deal. i realize how ridiculous and unnecessarily self-deprecating this sounds. still, old habits die hard — which is why we pursue new ones like taking pictures, or blogging, or screaming some of our clearest recollections into the void: (i.) do you remember coming back from saitama? it was six degrees out and we were debating yakiniku for dinner because we'd talked about going for it before the show. we must have gotten stopped by every single stoplight in shinjuku but i couldn't feel the cold at all. the only thing nipping at my fingers was adrenaline, bright and fizzy. the beef bowl place we settled on was further than expected, tucked in an alley a few minutes from our hotel. when you started walking faster to avoid the drunken crowd it set something off in my gut; knocking our shoulders together was my only means of keeping up. i was still high off the stadium lights and indoor disinfectant and the lone five hundred yen coin burning a hole in my pocket. can you blame me for laughing? everyone giggling and stumbling out on the street looked just like me. (ii.) do you remember the dance floor? i know i'm over you and all but i can't seem to shut up about it. we never danced. we weren't the dancing type then— at least, not me. not in public. not with you. but the dance floor they pulled out and taped to the tiles was so stupid. i almost tripped over it that night when you looked at me because i could tell. we'd always been ferrymen at parties, and a crisis of emotion happening close to the bar was par for the course. needless to say, it wasn't ours. i was exhausted. debut season felt like heels today and tomorrow and the day after that. keepers to call, friends to watch over, servers to apologize to for their monopoly of bathroom stalls. when you flagged me down to say you'd hold down the lobby, the air around your drink had condensed into tiny beads of water. i'd assumed you were leaving. i hated being around you; i was so relieved you were staying. i never asked you to dance and thank god for that. i could tell if i had, we'd have laughed ourselves silly. upturned every rule made golden. made a mess of the epoxy. and then what. and then what?

(iii.) do you remember the parties you'd throw me in the cafeteria? if there weren't balloons taped to the back of my seat before homeroom, i'd find one of you hiding an air pump beneath your desk. i'd come down for lunch with half of you suspiciously missing from our usual table and the rest talking animatedly about something clearly made up. twenty minutes later you’d turn up with a monstrosity christened cake made of ice cream sandwiches, cheap confectionery, and as many wafer sticks as the structure could take.

by the grace of the gregorian calendar, we always had school on my birthday. i used to hate getting fussed over, but like this was okay. whenever i mentioned disliking candy somebody would say something along the lines of well, we knew that, but i was craving gummy worms today. more than anything else, it was the open ease with which you could be cheeky that was worth celebrating. to friends in close places: if you see yourselves in any of these little splurbs or have made an educated guess as to who they concern, congrats. feel free to talk, so long as you never bring 'em up in my presence lest i dissolve into a thousand particles of unspoken sentimentalities.

[ringos-riddles]

Hi, so in a previous post you made you said that people could submit their oc and have them in the au, so i thought it would be a nice idea to submit my oc Layne. I would have sent both the image attached to this submission and a picture of a colored version, but i can only send 1 image, so unless you would like me to send you the colored version, we’ll just have to stick with this. The turtleneck is his main outfit (they’ve got 2 others if you want those as well). Colors used for him are as follows:

Skin: #ffecc7

Eye color: #300e00

Hair: #5e3727

Sweater: #80771f (#f03e3e for the heart)

Pants: #2b2b2b

Boots: #9e5c2c (#573319 for heels)

And some info about the character that I probably should not have saved for last (also, I apologize for the long submission and the hex codes for the colors, i wanted them to be as accurate as possible):

Layne: 14. No job (minor). Lives with parents. Non Binary Pansexual. Visible eyebags from always sleeping too much or too little, constantly tired either way. Quiet around just about everyone, can and will talk for a while about their interests (art, analog horror, bands they like, ect). Hates horror movies, most bugs, rap and country music, and being stressed. In advanced classes, so he’s stressed out a lot. Spends a lot of their day outside of school watching YouTube, listening to music, and playing animal crossing. Human. He/They. Has a black maine coon named Honeycomb (she is very friendly and meows a lot).

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

layne occasionally visits the vet for their maine coon honeycomb. i'd like to think that they often visit pat's coffee shop to buy some tea for themselves to relax from the constant stress they've been undergoing from their life.

also, since layne doesn't have a job, maybe they could work at topi's bakery, but since they looked so tired all the time, topi decided to give them 3 to 4 hours of part time work before sending away to rest at their house. she noticed how the poor kid seemed ready to collapse from exhausted :( she always insists that layne should take care of themselves more 

since skits is fluent on how stressful advanced classes are when they were in high school, they help layne going through their studies and homework. the two met when layne was working at the bakery and skits wanted to hang with topi during her shift. skits can see the signs that this kid is the victim of advanced classes and immediately offered help (layne was surprised)

aaannnnd i think that's all! :D here's a full digital drawing that mod collie drew!

i hope this is what you’re expecting friend!

[ladyc0312]

A Jikook Guide to RunBTS: 112-121

Yes, I'm still doing these! It's just happening more slowly than I'd like because writing for work + writing fic + trying to go to bed before midnight + so much amazing content being released that clearly must be poured over and dissected = less time to make guides. For anyone still with me, he's the next section!

Ep 112 “Dalbang School Part 1” (Ep: 5 / KM: 4)

The ones with BTS in a classroom driving Teacher Jin insane

5:58 - JM declares that he and Taehyung will pair up (by being the first to hug each other in a game), but then when Hobi blows the whistle at 6:38, JK runs over to hug JM before Tae can get to him.

6:58 - Jin asks why JM said he wanted Tae and then hugged JK. JM explains that he didn't hug him, he just found himself in JK's hug as JK cackles in the background.

7:24 - When Jin blows his whistle at the class, JK and JM mirror each other in putting a finger in one of their ears.

7:35 - Teammates JK and JM are immediately on the same page about wanting their team name to be Kim Seokjin. When they have to change it, JM quickly picks up JK's suggestion that they call their team Bang Sihyuk. These don't sound like particularly unique moments, but when you watch it, it just really strikes you how in sync the two of them are in terms of physicality, ideas, and sense of humor.

9:52 - After Jin comments that he heard JM did very well in school, JK adds that JM was the top student. When someone else asks if JM was the best or second-best, JK forcefully reiterates that he was the best student.

12:45 - When they get a question right, JK and JM clasp hands and bump their shoulders together.

13:10 - JM and JK both goof around, speaking in satoori and challenging JHope to a fight of sorts.

13:27 - When Jin repeats that they got the question right, JK and JM do exactly the same as 12:45, but seated this time.

14:22, 14:36, 15:13 - In all three of these moments, JM nearly falls over laughing at something JK did that no one else found anywhere near as funny.

23:36 - When JK says he's good at this game, JM laughs and pokes JK in the chest with a marker.

BEHIND 2:30 - JM takes a selfie of him and JK with his personal phone while they're supposed to be paying attention to Jin.

6:35 - JK cheers on JM and calls him Jimin-ssi when JM announces he's doing well on this spot-the-difference round. When Jimin modifies the brag to say he only found four, JK says "that's still quite impressive."

Ep 113 “Dalbang School Part 2” (Ep: 5 / KM: 4)

4:50 - We all know how JK is when he gets into his "focus" zone, especially in a competitive environment. But here, when JM rather rudely interrupts JK's melodica practice, JK just starts playing around with him and giggles.

7:41 - As RM & JH take their turn, jikook are whispering to each other in the back row.

11:42 - After quickly agreeing on a lunch option, jikook do a high five / handshake thing and then JM says "we think alike" and "we get along pretty well." JK responds "that's exactly it" and the on-screen captions tells us they are a "good match."

22:20 - This is where JK and JM start switching back and forth carrying each other on their backs to get under a limbo stick.

They go again at 23:35, 26:11, and 28:13.

And again at 30:22 and 32:16 and 34:30 because, even though they lost, they want to try to do it again to show that they can as a "matter of pride."

25:00 - JK points something out to JM and then pats his butt.

33:33 - JM announces they lost, and then jikook do another handshake / high five thing.

34:33 - JM does an... interesting pose for the camera where he puts his hand on a bent-over JK's back and smirks.

34:56 - Yet another handshake and JM pats JK on the back when they finally pass the limbo challenge.

BEHIND 5:55 - While examining the limbo setup, JM comments that JK is good at this. JK comes over to give a demonstration and JM watches him be silly with it and says "he's a strange kid" fondly.

6:21 - Another jikook limbo attempt - this one was cut because they did it too easily.

Ep 114 “League of Number One Part 1” (Ep: 3 / KM: 1)

The ones where BTS play games with League of Legends world champions

3:55 - After Jimin protests that he shouldn't be out, JK tells his hyung to turn around and face the back.

14:40 - JK fake-boxes JM after losing the hammer game.

18:18 - JK mimics Jimin's BWL intro.

Ep 115 “League of Number One Part 2” (Ep: 2 / KM: .5)

BEHIND

7:05 - JK comes over to check on Jimin's phone to make sure he's actually visible in the selfie the teams take.

Ep 116 “Team-Building Special Part 1” (Ep: 4 / KM: 1)

The ones with random games in that rec room-looking place that are a lot more fun than they sound

22:14 - JM and JK play around with the jump rope during breaktime.

22:26 - JM and JK play around like they're boxing with each other.

BEHIND 5:15 - JK appears to take an interest in watching JM's... back as he moves around acting out potential poses.

Ep 117 “Team-Building Special Part 1” (Ep: 4 / KM: 2)

5:30 - Despite showing pretty much everyone else touching everyone else in the pose guessing game, we don't get a single shot here or in the behind of JK feeling up Jimin. The above photo proves that it happened, though, so definitely side-eyeing the editors, here.

BEHIND 5:35 - JK keeps throwing water bottles when they're supposed to be taking a group photo. Jimin pulls him back next to him and puts an arm around his neck. JK puts an arm around Jimin's shoulders in return.

7:51 - After it's explained that JK is staying late to watch Jin do his penalty, a packed-up Jimin comes over and stands next to JK, waiting until they're done to leave.

Ep 118 “Photo Story Part 1” (Ep: 3 / KM: 3)

The ones where BTS play a Samsung-sponsored game involving getting specific pictures while a spy tries to ruin the fun

4:22 - JM appears to direct JK to go punish Tae and pats JK's back when he starts to obey. Something happens that we don't see when the angle changes - next thing we see, JM seems to be pushing JK? JM then giggles at JK pretending to beat up Tae. (After this, JK spins around like a ballerina. Not jikook-related, just adorable.)

29:51 - JK calls Jimin twice without adding "hyung."

32:28 - JM pulls JK along by the wrist. Meanwhile, J-Hope once again mixes up their names.

32:44 - Though there is now a group walking slowly together and he doesn't need to pull him along anymore, Jimin takes JK's hand again.

37:02 - There are a bunch of seats open in the room, but Jimin walks over to sit right next to JK.

BEHIND 5:40 - When JM tries to steal a post-it from JK, JK scolds him in satoori banmal. JM calls him out for not calling him with hyung and JK quickly apologizes (in a way some k-army jikookers have said is like how a married person would respond to their nagging spouse!).

6:09 - JK and JM meet up and JK tells JM he's exhausted. There's a kind of weird moment that I fully admit I may be reading too much into where JK seems to be walking right towards JM, then abruptly stops and turns, looking at the camera, before walking with Jimin in a different direction than he had been heading. Then, JM says he thinks their matching shirts are hilarious and that it's funny they're wearing them for the show.

Ep 119 “Photo Story Part 2” (Ep: 4 / KM: 3)

8:21 - "You are me, I am you" moment: Jimin does a ballet spin the same way JK did in part one.

11:18 - JK is the only one to vote for JM to be able to keep a picture in other than Jin (who has nefarious reasons for doing so).

29:40 - JM goes over to help JK see how many of his photos the spy ruined and almost falls over laughing when it becomes clear it's nearly all of them.

34:21 - JM puts his hand on JK's shaking leg to help calm him (see above photo), but JK is so irritated that it doesn't work like it usually does. Poor bunny!

35:17 - JM pulls at JK's shirt and hand, then folds over his back while trying to get him to confess that he actually lost.

38:24 - JM has a comforting hand on JK's neck when he's acting upset about losing.

38:32 - When it seems like JK is struggling to come up with an ending statement, JM helps prompt him.

BEHIND

0:55 - JK talks about how amazing it is that Jimin found so many cards.

3:51 - When JK is playing with the sequin art on the front of his shirt, JM leans over and starts rubbing on them, too.

5:11 - Jimin tells JK that, if he wins, he's going to make the loser hike Mt. Achasan. JK asks why he's looking at him when he says that and they both laugh. Jimin pats JK's chest and they laugh even harder. Jin and Tae both have "omg, these two" looks on their faces.

Ep 120 “Reply BTS Village Part 1” (Ep: 3 / KM: 2)

The ones with a real-life Mafia game inexplicably set in a 1970s village. It's... fairly difficult to follow, but the guys are into it and the outfits are great!

24:40 - Jimin breaks character and laughs when asking JK if he's the culprit.

29:40 - Caption: "The air is undeniably tense between Gamer Jeon and Chief Park." Not explicitly jikook, I just find it funny that the writers seem to be playing with some real life relationships, making sope best friends and jikook have tension that leads to banter...

BEHIND

5:34 - When Jimin is playing with the yo-yo, JK expresses concern that he's going to hurt his fingers (caption: Kook is just worrying for his hyung). Then, JK asks poutily and in banmal if he can play with the yo-yo multiple times and Jimins says no. Like, JK straight-up gives his hyung a command ("let me try that") using informal speech and no one bats an eye!

5:58 - Jimin starts singing a song about an ants. JK watches him. JK initially says to Hobi "look, he's a fool/dummy!" (in banmal again), then starts singing along. He jokes that JM doesn't know all the lyrics and Jimin says back "quiet, you."

Ep 121 “Reply BTS Village Part 2” (Ep: 3 / KM: 2)

38:48 - After having asked for it a bunch in the Behind of the previous episode, JK now has Jimin's yoyo.

non-jikook note: At the end of this one, they "time travel" to solve a mystery in Joseon-era Korea and I can't express how badly I want to see that. Please come back to that, Run!

BEHIND 0:58 - Jimin and JK play around accusing each other with exaggerated accents and formality. Jimin comes up behind JK and reaches out to touch his shoulder, but stops when Tae joins them and accuses them of plotting together.

9:05 - When JK says everyone else is so good at acting, Jimin compliments him that he was very funny towards the end.

[kimberly-spirits13]

Dating Damian Wayne HC:

(imma do one for all of the guys I just had the writing idea for Dames first)

How You Met: Artist credit @axeeeee​

.        You went to Gotham Academy before him

.        You were also making sure that you were top of the class and also maintaining class president

.        Anyways, it was just something that you pushed yourself for

.        Arts was another strength for you but that was something that you weren’t as inclined to maintain on an extreme level like everything else

.        So it was your job to show the new people around the school before their first day which meant that you were showing Damian around

.        Your parents already knew Bruce so you weren’t really freaked out at all

.        It was just another day tbh

.        That was until you met him

.        It was weird since you were more of the person to not talk much about yourself

.        No one really knew who you were and you were content to keep it that way

.        Everyone’s friend but no one knew who you were really

.        Damian was kind of the same way but not as friendly or open to people

.        He was like the younger you

.        Still, for some reason you were interested in him just as a person

.        He was as well

.        You didn’t immediately hit it off seeing as you are both reserved and closed off when it comes to personal things, but you hit it off faster than any one else

.        A miracle in all honesty

.        So you started hanging out and eating together in the lunchroom instead of either with a group or alone

.        It was nice and then evolved over time

Friendship:

.        So after a few months, you guys were getting closer and closer

.        It was something that you just expected to happen and when it did you were ready

.        You were starting to hang out outside of school whether that was at your place, the park, his house, maybe a café on a weekend

.        Just anywhere

.        If there were any galas, Damian would invite you and you him since you didn’t really feel great inviting anyone else

.        Sometimes galas had this secret mandatory code to bring someone so it was nice to finally have someone to bring

.        The media was all over it

.        It was honestly really weird for a second and then you just accepted it

.        Damian and yourself slowly started opening up to each other about everything

.        Depending on how fast you pick up on things and possibly if you’re also a vigilante, this is where you figure out that he’s Robin

.        He doesn’t call you by your last name anymore and instead by your first name which is fun

.        It’s an honor lol

.        If Damian is having an issue at the manor, you just have extra stuff for him to come over anytime

.        It’s always there and you make sure to get more when you see something’s running low

.        By the end of the friendship stage, you’re probably wearing each other’s clothes by now

.        He gets flustered sometimes though

.        That’s the first few signs

.        Also very protective but we’ll get into that

Signs:

.        So Damian now gets flustered?

.        Not something that you ever thought you’d see

.        Complimenting you too

.        It was a mutual thing that you both started doing more and more

.        Hanging around each other even more than before if that’s possible

.        He introduces you to his pets

.        All of them

.        Even Goliath

.        That was after watching random animal videos one night in the movie room of your house and seeing your reaction to them all

.        You bout died meeting Goliath

.        It was pretty awesome

.        Damian was so proud

.        Anyways, so you start getting more and more protective of each other

.        Any stupid girls from the Academy were getting immediately shut down

.        Same goes with the boys

.        For Damian he was always making sure that no one was messing with you or making you feel uncomfy

.        Death glares to all and smiles to none that tried it

.        That was both ways

.        Omg you guys have the death glare mastered

Confession/ Relationship:

.        So now that his brothers have caught on, they’re hell bent on getting you two together

.        So is Alfred and Bruce and that’s not typical at all

.        Everyone ships you and you both know it just won’t accept it

.        After some time though, you’re at this string of events and the press was just bombarding you for info on the relationship and whether or not you were dating

.        You said no every time and then just moved on

.        Damian noticed how much he missed you and loved seeing you thrive even from afar

.        It was kind of like oh shit I’d better say something now cause they’ve got everyone wrapped around their finger

.        So when you got back, he told you

.        It was kind of informal and unexpected

.        I mean finally but, out of the blue

.        You were thrilled

.        So basically from then on, it was wonderful

.        Sometimes his brothers might tease you two and post really just dorky things about you guys

.        Maybe one day it’s freaking out cause they found you in the movie room passed out on each other asleep with an older movie playing

.        Picture of you not being apart at all

.        The press loved it all

.        You guys loved it all

.        Now he’d spend the night all of the time but this time in your room, asleep, with you

.        Not just in some guest bedroom or in the same room but apart

.        Sleeping is actually a big thing since you both greatly lack it

.        You’ll sleep everywhere

.        The couch, a chair, the bed, in a car, on the floor sometimes, at a table just next to each other, anywhere

.        It was something that like your friendship just evolved over time

.        Eventually, you were taking vacations together during the holiday breaks and training together

.        Your families loved the other

.        Friend groups too

.        Sometimes you’d fight but typically it got resolved quickly

.        There was always this challenge of apologizing on Damian’s end even if it was really his fault since he just doesn’t know how to

.        He got better with that real quick

.        Basically, you just appreciate each other and see the other as your other half

.        Nothing gets in the way of that

.        Not even some stupid boy or girl hitting on the other or the media’s twisted perception of something taken out of proper context

.        Those are typically what more serious talks are about but they’re solved quickly

Dates:

.        You’re either going to a nice place or not staying in

.        There’s no in between

.        Either 5 star or the home theater at probably your place

.        He loves taking you nice places even if you’ve already been

.        Watching new movies

.        Or really bad ones just to judge them

.        Those are always really fun

.        Sometimes you might go for a coffee date and those are typically just spur of the moment type things

.        You might go to a gala and then go home and kick back

.        Either way it’s the best

.        Homemade treats and movies with a possible blanket fort and pillows everywhere over the couches in the movie room

.        There’s always a chance that they might get cut short for heroics but that doesn’t typically happen since someone covers Damian’s or your shift

Hero:

.        So if you’re a hero, it’s kind of an exhausting thing especially considering schooling and everything else

.        Sometimes you find yourself not getting sleep for days

.        There are times that you regret everything and Damian understands it all

.        He’s just terribly impressed that you can do all of this like he does

.        It’s great having someone like that

.        Both of you are extremely well trained which sometimes Damian questions where you got your training since it’s so similar to his and his father’s

.        Very calculated and precise every single time but also unpredictable which makes you dangerous

.        It’s something that you always use to your advantage

.        On nights that you patrol, you do it together and always tag team

.        Damian knows that you put up one hell of a fight, but he’d rather be there incase something happens then not at all and have something bad happen

.        Both of you are always stitching each other up and helping the other with nightmares

.        It’s just inevitable at this point

.        Staying over at each other’s places depending on how close you are or how badly injured

.        You always go to the manor if there’s something really bad that happened

.        That’s cause they have better medical equipment and Alfred who is a legend

.        Alfred can fix anything and if he can’t it’s to the hospital but that pretty much never happens

Routine?:

.        With everything, you have to have a routine

.        It’s very exact and important

.        In the morning, you both wake up together but not before hitting the snooze button three times

.        You have the alarm set early enough to be able to do this

.        Plus some time just to lay there for a second

.        Damian is typically the cutest and most tired in the morning

.        He hates them

.        If you’re washing your face or doing whatever, he’ll just hug you from behind and lean against your shoulder

.        Has fallen asleep before

.        Then you both eat and head off to school

.        After school, you go back to someone’s place to change into comfy clothes and complete homework which most is done at school since you wouldn’t have time otherwise

.        If you have a meeting to go to, you’ll go to that and then head back

.        After supper, it’s to patrol and then after two to three hours of that on average, you go back to one of your homes and shower typically together since you don’t have time to not

.        It’s easier and more time efficient so you’ve said

.        Also uses less hot water

.        Then, you check your phones for any other emergencies and head to bed

.        If you’re not a hero it’s basically the same thing but he comes into your room, locks the window again after he’s made sure everything is safe inside, creeps in your closet to get his nightclothes, looks at his phone for anything that might have happened since, goes to shower, and then gets into bed with you after making sure you’re okay without waking you up

.        When sleeping, you’re either touching slightly or just on top of each other in some way

.        Either way, you’re touching

.        He can’t have you far from him incase something happens

.        Never really sure what might happen, just that it could happen

.        Since he’s a light sleeper, if you shift or move around, he opens his eyes for a second to make sure you’re okay

.        That goes for hero or not

.        It’s really nice and sometimes he’ll come in and you’ll still be awake

.        Always asks why

.        “Dami, I’m always awake at this hour.”

.        “I know beloved, but you should sleep.”

.        “Well then let’s go.”

.        He’ll swing by for just a second during patrol to check in if you’re either grounded from patrol due to injury, sickness, just need a night off, or if you don’t do it

.        Texts you updates every now and then since he knows you worry and it helps him when he’s home and you’re patrolling

.        Basically keeps him from going insane so he does the same for you just incase

[oinkz]

bound to you

— you share an umbrella with your ex, oikawa. (gn!reader)

— angst, harassment (not by oikawa or the reader), light fluff, 3.5k words, very experimental so i apologize if it’s a bit.. messy

A dark cloud from outside the classroom window stretches across the canvas of the sky, its presence mighty and foreboding. Any minute now, it could start pouring, and that known fact is making it more and more difficult to focus on your calculus test as time lets on.

Just one more question. That’s it. And then, you can finally speed home, tend to your aching head, and take a nap, even. After the awfully long day you’ve had, you think you deserve it.

It was a cliche sort of day, not completely terrible, but it still rendered you exhausted nonetheless. You had woken late, skipped breakfast, ran into someone who was holding an iced coffee in their hand, and then strutted the school parameters in a very obviously stained uniform. (In the end, you’re just glad that the coffee wasn’t scorching hot.)

You had wanted to return home immediately after the last bell rang, but you needed to make up a test you were absent for last week. This brings you to now, in the midst of the very last question. 

With whatever wisdom and knowledge you can muster, you power through, tapping through your calculator and recalling that god-forsaken unit circle.

What even is a unit circle? You wouldn’t know, you’re merely doing enough to pass.

All you know is that one, this test wasn’t as bad as you thought it’d be (thank goodness for that) and two, you didn’t have enough time to check the weather this morning. Of course, the one day you failed to check is the day the weather gods decide to hurl you with a storm.

You had forgotten your umbrella. And once you complete this math problem, you’ll have to end your school day in the most cliche way possible - with the walking through pouring rain after a particularly hard day. You see it all the time in movies and books. 

‘Life imitates art,’ they say. And it sure does.

You don’t take long before you can input your final answer to the calculator and write it down on your paper. You even box the number in, making it nice and pretty for the teacher to read through your messy work. Maybe it’s to be generous for the sake of being generous - you know, to make your teacher’s job a little easier. Or maybe it’s to lend some good karma your way, in hopes of postponing the upcoming storm for another thirty minutes. You’re a little desperate, to say the least.

“Done?” 

Speak of the devil. Your head shoots upward to find said teacher.

You merely nod, handing her the paper.

Then, you’re on your own for the remaining minutes in school. You wish your teacher a good evening, and then wander through the empty halls to find your locker.

5pm is a quiet hour for Aoba Johsai. At this point, most students have made their way home - even the ones with extracurriculars. It was a little unsettling when you first stayed late, but you’ve grown used to it.

Long were the days when you would stay in the gym till late evening to help the boys in the volleyball club. They’re memories you wish you could look at bitterly, but you simply can’t. Because in the end of the day, you were happy. So happy.

But just because it was happy, doesn’t mean it was meant to be.

You take a sharp breath inwards, hoping to put an end to this - this reminiscing. You’ve moved on now, and you’re okay. Everything is just dandy without them. Without the supposed love of your life.

You’re taking books out of your locker when you hear it - the small roar of thunder and heavy pitter patter of pouring rain. For the tenth time today, a sigh falls from your mouth. Certainly, you’re not surprised, but it still sucks nonetheless.

You just want one good thing to happen today. One.

Now, you stand at the school entrance, a low frown weighing down the corners of your lips.

There’s no avoiding it - you have to get home somehow... but still. Mother Nature can be so, so cruel. Was it not enough that you walked around school with a dark coffee stain on your blouse?

You’re so busy moping that you don’t see the painfully familiar presence quietly making his way beside you, a subtle, yet adoring smile on his lips.

“What are you waiting for?” He wonders, staring at the sky alongside with you, eyes genuinely curious.

Your heart stops for what feels like minutes.

Because you know that voice. Everyone does, but especially you.

It’s the same voice that lulled you to sleep when insomnia was eating you away. The one you’ve heard sing far too many times thanks to those long gone karaoke nights. The one that whispered ‘I love you’s into your ear when you felt completely, and utterly alone.

That voice.

“It’s raining,” you reply bluntly, wanting to end this conversation as soon as possible. It’s not because you hate him per se - in fact, it’s quite the opposite. But you would rather not be anywhere close to him. 

“Where’s your umbrella?” He asks. It’s a simple question, but it’s so perceptive. Just like him. 

Of course he remembers how you always check the weather every morning. Of course he remembers how you had always - without fail - remembered to bring an umbrella. 

You hate the hope that swells up in your stomach. And you so badly want to hate him, too.

“I—“ You start, shakily. “It’s been a long day.” 

He hums. Whether it’s in agreement, or to say he can tell, you’re not sure.

“C’mon then.”

Dumbfounded, you’re not sure what “c’mon, then” even means. You hope he’s not implying...?

Reluctantly, you look over to him, and he’s waving an umbrella in his hand.

Oh, no. You can’t.

You shake your head rapidly. “It’s okay, really—“

“Please?” his voice is painfully quiet.

He’s practically begging for you to look him in the eye.

And who were you to resist? He’s always been difficult to say no to. 

You know that more than anyone.

So, when Oikawa makes his way outside, opens his umbrella, and gestures for you to get under...

You do, despite the pure melancholy that swallows you whole.

One year ago.

You don’t remember how it got to this point. Had you known that dating someone would have so many consequences, you would’ve been a little more careful with your feelings.

Falling for Tooru was easy, but terribly dangerous. You learnt this the hard way.

What started out with cute little love notes adorned all over your locker ended with handwritten threats telling you to.....

You can’t even think about it because it had brought tears to your eyes the first time. You’d think one insulting note about your appearance was enough, but it had worsened - even when you were trying hard to stay optimistic. Soon enough, you had to take jabs about your skills, your mannerisms, and little by little, they became daily reminders of how every single thing about you will always fall short compared to your beloved, Tooru.

“.... I can’t do this anymore,” You say, your voice barely above a breath.

Oikawa’s limbs immediately lock in place. He looks up and sees the sad look in your eyes, the way they glisten with tears. No, no, no...

“Surely, you don’t mean...?” He can’t even finish his own sentence, because the thought is too scary.

But somehow, you finish for him. Just like you’ve always finished each other’s sentences, you’ve managed to finish this one, too. Except it doesn’t make him laugh and kiss your lips in utter adoration. This time, it’s gut-wrenching.

“Yes, I want to break up, Tooru.” Your words are firm and sure, but you... you are anything but.

Tooru has to prevent this somehow, but he’s not sure how. 

How do you tell someone to stay?

When staying risks their safety?

When staying puts them in pain?

As out-of-worldly as his skills may be, Oikawa Tooru is only human. You have brought him too much joy for it just to end like this.... With some nobody who can’t keep their jealousy to themselves. And despite the pain you’re going through, he wants you to stay.

So, he brings his hands up to your cheeks, taking you in in your entirety.

“Y/n...” He pleads with his eyes, and it’s the most desperate you’ve seen him. Perhaps it’s because deep down, he knows he’s being selfish.

You swallow the lump in your throat, unable to form the right words in your mouth. Silently, you wrap your arms around his waist, so painfully slow, as if it was the last time you were going to hold him. As if to say sorry.

Sorry for what? You never did anything wrong.

He doesn’t bother to hug you back, because if he does, he’ll lose. Hugging you back will mean he’s also saying goodbye, and he’s not. He’s only just getting started with you. “We can’t...”

“We have to,” You force out, and he hates how absolutely rigid your words come out to be.

He shakes his head in denial. “No, we don’t.”

Your patience is running thin at this point. Because in truth, you tried. You always had, for him.

When the first note came, you didn’t tell him until weeks later. For months and months, you had put on a front to save his feelings and yours. At the time, pretending seemed like the best option.

But it wasn’t, because little did you know, pretending was a gateway to even more issues you had no idea was taking root in you. At this point, you’re not sure if you even know yourself anymore.

If you can’t understand yourself, does Tooru? Does he really love you, or does he just love the facade you put on?

Whatever the answer is, it doesn’t matter, because either way, you’re tired and in dire need of some healing. As terribly cruel as it may be, breaking up and focusing on yourself is truly the only way to be okay again. You may not be okay right now - if anything, the pain is excruciating - but the time will come. You have that much hope, at least.

“Yes, we do, Tooru,” you push onwards, pulling away from your embrace with a deep and sad frown tainting your features. “I love you - I really do - but I can’t keep pretending everything is okay. Those notes hurt, but that’s just the least of it... I just... need to be alone.”

“I’m sorry,” you finish with a sigh. He can’t even bring himself to ask why, because next thing he knew, you were out the door, making your way back home.

But what even was home at that point? Tooru was yours. Yet somehow, the foundation of love and passion wasn’t enough to keep it afloat.

Now.

“How are you?”

These are the first words that are spoken after ten long minutes of silence. Tooru - no, Oikawa is uncharacteristically awkward as he says them.

You’re not sure how to respond.

Had it been anyone else, you would’ve bluntly replied with a “fine”, but the question catches you off guard. When was the last time Oikawa Tooru asked you how you were?

So, so long ago.

It was never ‘how are you’ with him, but rather, ‘do you think aliens are real’ or ‘would you ever date an alien’. Or even, ‘do you know how much I love you’ or ‘what kind of house do you want to live in in the future’.

How did someone so near and dear to you become such a stranger?

You huff out a sigh, stopping your train of thought before it wanders off to somewhere it shouldn’t be.

“I’m okay,” you answer, holding back your tongue. You don’t even bother to ask ‘how are you’ back, because if you did, he’d probably answer with something so blunt and distant, you wouldn’t know how to react.

Yet, somehow, he doesn’t. Instead, he prods further, practically forcing a conversation on you. You’re not sure whether your thankful for it, or if it bothers you. No one likes an awkward silence, anyway.

“Do you still take the same way home?” He asks curiously, but his eyes are far-off, trained on the droplets of water that surround you two.

You furrow your eyebrows. What kind of question is that? “Yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

He shrugs. “I dunno. I found a shortcut one day.”

He did?

How did he just find a shortcut? Out of nowhere, too?

“I know what you’re thinking.” He sighs, but it’s not out of irritation - at least, not towards you. “But I just.... one day, I was just walking around town and at the time, I was still hung up on you.”

“... So you found a shortcut to my house while that happened?”

“Yeah, basically,” he laughs at how foolish he sounds. Why is he even saying this?

“You can’t just tell me that,” you say, a little too coldly for his liking. “We broke up.”

“You broke up with me,” he argues, and you swear, somehow, the rain gets louder. “I wanted nothing to do with it. Y’know, I would’ve heard you out if you just talked to me. We were best friends, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you want to say?” You stop in your tracks completely. “I know that at the time, I should’ve let you speak, but rationality doesn’t matter when you get daily notes telling you how ugly you are. I just needed it to end, somehow.”

Oikawa stops in his tracks, too. You’re no longer under the umbrella with him, instead you’re willingly getting soaked by the rain. From afar, this scene probably looks straight out of a drama.

He turns to face you in all your glory. Hair wet,  eyes glassy, and makeup-stained cheeks. It’s a beautiful, tragic mess.

“Did you believe anything they said about you?” He questions, so softly he’s not sure you can hear.

But you do. You always do.

“Sometimes,” you answer. It’s the first time you’ve been honest with him in a while. “Can you blame me?”

He frowns. “No, y/n.... I could never blame you, you know that?”

Did you?

To be fair, your sense of judgement back then was quite clouded. You didn’t know what to feel about yourself, and Tooru... you had just came to the conclusion that he deserved someone better. Someone who could take meaningless insults better.

You should’ve tried harder.

“I— it doesn’t matter anymore...” you reply. “It’s been a year, Tooru.”

You don’t even mean to say his first name, it just slips out naturally.

After a long pause, he sighs. 

“C’mere. You’re gonna get sick.”

You wrap your arms around yourself, walking forward into the shade of the umbrella. 

The next few minutes are a bit conflicting, to say the least. There are unspoken words hanging in the air that no one wants to say, nor think about. 

Oikawa’s grip around the umbrella is so unknowingly tight that he doesn’t even recognize the ache in his muscles. What good would it do to rekindle a fire that never really went out in the first place?

After the breakup, he never really... moved on. He watches, observes you from a distance, and when he works up the courage to approach you, you’re gone. As difficult as it was to find you again, he still notices things that give him hope.

 He notices how your gaze unknowingly lingers as he walks past the halls. How a small smile creeps up your lips when you hear that the boys’ volleyball club had won a match. 

You still care, he knows that much.

But is it worth trying to be close to you again?

“You don’t have to ever talk to me again after this if that makes you comfortable,” he tells you, his expression weirdly unreadable. “But let me just say this.”

He pauses his walking and turns to face you. His gaze on you is so intense, it practically compels you to meet his eyes. 

You don’t like where this is going. At all. Once you get too comfortable and stare too hard, you’ll fall into the same rabbit hole you got yourself into a year ago. Being in his mere presence is dangerous, and that’s why you were so adamant about avoiding him so much in the first place.

But he’s hypnotizing and so, so tempting. One second turns to five when you stare at his face.

“I miss you. Not even just in a romantic way, but you were my friend first,” he confesses, and the sincerity that follows his words shatters your heart. “I’m sorry it turned out like this.”

A lump forms in your throat but you’re too frozen in place to swallow it. Because you see him - the little freckles on his nose, the flush in his cheeks, the dreamy look in his eyes. They hold remnants of your second year in high school, when love was what it was supposed to be - exhilarating, healthy, and freeing. 

You see him on TV, hear his name in the halls, dream of tasting his lips when you’re asleep. There was never an escape even when you desperately tried to avoid him, and now that he’s right here in front of you, you actually have a chance to touch him. To kiss him.

And you want to. So, so badly. His lips look so terribly cold and lonely. 

But who were you to relieve that?

Good god, did you miss him.

“I miss you too,” you breathe out, weak in the knees at the force of his gaze. “I wish I didn’t take those notes so personally. Wish it didn’t come between us.”

He smiles. “So hard on yourself as always, y/n,” he says, a ghost of a chuckle leaving his lips. “Anyone would’ve lost their minds. I would’ve.”

“Yeah... But I should’ve told you earlier,” you argue. “Maybe then we would’ve resolved it—“

“You are not at fault for us falling apart,” He sounds confident - as if it was a truth. 

You don’t know why he keeps insisting it wasn’t your fault. It was. 

Your only argument back is, “... Was too.”

Tooru squints his eyes. Two can play this game.

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

“Was too.”

“Was not.”

“Was not.”

“Was too— oh, fuck off.” Your expression fades to a glare. 

Oh, how he missed this.

“But seriously, I never ever blamed you for what happened,” he prods firmly, making sure you get the idea into your pretty little head. The idea that he doesn’t hate you - never has, never will. “I just miss us. Do you think you could ever....?”

You tilt your head to the side. “Ever... what?”

A full on blush blooms across his cheeks. “Date me... again..?”

Now, it’s your turn to chuckle. “Seriously, you still want to? After all that shit?”

“Of course I want to, are you kidding me?” Tooru quips back, not wasting a second. “I’m crazy over you, y/n.”

That’s it.

You don’t even know what comes over you for what happens next. Before you could get a hold of your senses, your lips are on his. The taste is one you’ve had on your tongue countless of times, but this time, it’s so strange, so new.

Whatever unsaid apologies you never worked the courage to tell him take the form of this - your perfect lips, and your wandering hands. You two don’t even notice how the umbrella is long gone, allowing the rain to kiss you all over. 

He’s close, so close. His chest is pressed against yours and you can practically feel his bare skin through the thin, wet fabric of his uniform. It’s so intoxicating, you could pass out, right here and right now.

How did you ever give this up?

“I love you,” he whispers after pulling away, his hands cupping your cheeks and gazing at your face in its entirety. “I love you, I love you, I love you. I’ve been wanting to kiss you for so long.”

He doesn’t stop there, though. He nuzzles his nose into yours, then kisses your forehead, then your cheeks, then plays with your hair.

You want to cry.

“You still... want me?” You ask, your voice painfully small. 

“Yeah, I still want you.” The grin on his lips don’t allow any room for question. “Do you still want me?”

“Yeah... Sadly,” you send him a cheeky smile back.

He flicks the back of your head, and soon enough, you two are kissing in the rain again.

Perhaps this is a sign that Oikawa Tooru is bound to you. He wants you endlessly, kisses like an absolute god, and unknowingly lives through all your worst days with you.

You wouldn’t mind if fate just so happened to like the look of you two together. Shitty, handwritten notes or not.

You like the look of Tooru with you, too.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

IOTA Reviews: Lies

You guys ready for almost twenty straight minutes of Angstdrien Depreste? Neither am I.

Let's get into the third (chronologically the second) episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fourth season: Lies (Oh, I get what they did there).

We open with Marinette struggling to decipher the grimoire she inherited from Fu, before two of the Kwamis screw around and play a video about Adrien.

Jesus Christ... it hasn't even been an episode since she broke up with Luka, and the writers are already back to making her simp over Adrien again. And this part of the episode takes place during “Truth”, where she's still dating Luka. This is supposedly meant to show her conflicting feelings regarding both Adrien and Luka, but it just comes across as yet another joke about Marinette simping over Adrien because the writers have forgotten she has other interests outside of her hero life.

And here we go. The writers are going to go out of their way to make the audience feel bad for Adrien in this episode by showing how tough his life is. What do we see him do that is allegedly so exhausting? He models for another statue, goes to a photoshoot, and then goes to some drama class where he repeats some phrase (I think it's supposed to be a warmup, but it's never explained why he's there in the first place). That's it. This is his definition of an “endless day”? Oh yeah, his life must be soooooooo hard.

Adrien is a rich white boy who is the son of one of the biggest names in fashion across the world, has legions of fans, an honest education, and is also one of the most beloved superheroes in the city while not having to struggle with the same responsibility his partner has. But no, Adrien's life is much harder than anyone else who has suffered this past year. It's yet another trick the writers are pulling to make people feel bad for Adrien instead of criticizing his behavior. I'm sorry, but I find it a little hard to relate to someone whose biggest problems amount his diamond shoes being too tight.

Good lord, I'm not even a minute in...

So Adrien transforms into Cat Noir and heads off to patrol. Keep in mind that the first part of this episode takes place during the events of “Truth”, so we see how he reacts to Ladybug not showing up for patrol. He waits for a while before he starts, but not before leaving a message for his partner.

Now, this moment honestly could have worked. What doesn't make it work is the air quotes Cat Noir starts off with. If he had said something like that honestly and kept his feelings a secret, it could have shown he understands the burden Ladybug has to bear now that she's the Guardian, but doesn't want to worry her. The problem is that the way he phrased the first sentence coupled with the air quotes make it seem like he doesn't care about what Ladybug has to deal with now, and only wants her to spend time with him.

You think I'm being overdramatic or I'm just jumping to conclusions? In the very next scene, Cat Noir actually tries to see if Mr. Ramier is emotional enough to get akumatized into Mr. Pigeon again just so he can see Ladybug.

This is just... why? Why would any of the writers expect the audience to feel bad for Cat Noir here? It's one thing for him to miss Ladybug's company, which is natural considering how much time they spend together, but wanting to start a life-threatening situation just to see Ladybug just isn't cool. What makes this any different from Chloe causing a subway to go out of control so she can save it herself, or Lila intentionally akumatizing herself and working with Hawkmoth just because she hates Ladybug? If you can find a reason other than “because the plot says so”, I'll want to hear an explanation.

So Cat Noir goes to Le Grand Paris to drown his sorrows in alcohol with his favorite drink, a White Russian without the vodka and coffee liqueur. Also, instead of cream, it's skim milk. And speaking of Chloe, we see her get into a brief squabble with Sabrina over missing a bag she has underneath her shoulder, and Cat Noir gets excited again at the prospect of getting to fight an Akuma, but thankfully, the situation is resolved fairly quickly.

Ignoring how unheroic this makes this supposed “superhero” look, I have a quick question. SHOULDN'T CHLOE BE IN PRISON RIGHT NOW? She essentially committed treason against her country by willingly conspiring with a terrorist. I get that everyone in Paris was paralyzed at the time, but did Ladybug not tell anyone what happened? How is she not in trouble? Did her father pardon her or something? Is she not even going to do any community service? You would think given how much Astruc hates her, Chloe would be forced to face more consequences for her actions other than losing her Miraculous permanently. Hopefully, “Queen Banana” will shed some light on Chloe's situation, but I'm not exactly holding my breath on that.

But yeah, Cat Noir actually gets excited at the prospect at fighting an akumatized Sabrina, while ignoring how cruel Chloe's being to her, because I guess it's a day that ends with a “Y”. Remember when Adrien actually called out  Lila and compromised with her in order to get Marinette back into school? Good times.

Cat Noir keeps calling and leaving messages for Ladybug, but changes his mind as soon as he sees Kagami, because he has the attention span of a puppy looking for someone to play with. Adrien stares at his phone's wallpaper of Ladybug, implying he still has feelings for her, and is then informed by Nathalie that his fencing class with Kagami was moved back by an hour. In reality, it was a trick by Kagami to get the two to spend some quality time together.

They choose to hang out in the art room because, get this, Kagami has always had a passion for drawing. Of course! That explains why it's never been mentioned in any earlier episodes, not even the one where she attended the premiere of an animated movie, which is a similar form of art. It's almost like the writers wanted to have Kagami do something that doesn't involve swinging a sword around. It's a good reason, mind you, but maybe if it was foreshadowed more, I would be more open to it.

Kagami says that she loves drawing because “art never lies”. Because it's not like someone can draw something completely inaccurate to what's actually being depicted, much like a certain character who likes to make up stories of people she knows to get others to like her, right? Kagami also says that her mother doesn't let her draw because she doesn't think her art isn't good, even though she's blind. Because when it comes to parents in Miraculous Ladybug, they're either amazing people who love their children, or they're emotionally abusive pieces of garbage who make you wonder why they even had kids in the first place. There is literally no middle ground. Maybe some of the writers have daddy issues?

So Kagami decides to draw a picture of Adrien, but wants him to give her a more “natural” pose instead of the standard model poses he usually gives.

Okay, this scene is raising so many red flags, the dialogue might as well be in semaphore. Where the hell did this side of Kagami come from? Why is she so controlling and forceful all of a sudden? In fact, why is she so obsessed with Adrien being “perfect”? The two made jokes before in the past (Desperada), and even spent half of the Season 3 finale playing around with Marinette? Why is she now Little Miss Serious?

Also, Kagami is really overstepping boundaries with Adrien here. Like, to a seriously uncomfortable degree. I get she isn't good with social cues, but how can she not see how anxious Adrien looks while she forces him into a pose, all while saying how wrong he is for doing what he sees as “natural”? This is not what a healthy relationship looks like, and spoiler alert, this isn't exactly why they even break up at the end of the episode.

Before the two can kiss while they're actually at fencing practice, Adrien is forced to leave Kagami to help Ladybug fight Mr. Pigeon (which means the narrative basically gave him what he wanted for no reason), leading to the same scene where Ladybug almost kills him, while he jokes about how he likes how angry she gets, and she apologizes for something that wasn't her fault. Just remember, he flirts with Ladybug right after he left his girlfriend to join her for an Akuma battle. The same montage from “Truth” happens, only it's Adrien missing opportunities to be close with Kagami, culminating with the little Kitty Section concert that happened right before Luka got akumatized.

While the two wait for their rides, Adrien accidentally drops the charm Marinette gave him all the way back in “Gamer”, which Kagami picks up. When he sees an Akuma flying, Adrien soon heads off to fight him, saving Ladybug from blowing her cover. After the events of “Truth”, Adrien apparently heads to Prince Ali's birthday party (yet Rose isn't there for some reason), meaning the second half of this episode takes place immediately after the previous one, even though it's been established that Hawkmoth/Shadowmoth needs time to recharge.

After Cat Noir flirts a little with Ladybug again, he heads off to the party to meet up with Kagami. When he had to leave to fight Truth, Adrien claimed that he left something on the Liberty, which Adrien later claims was the charm Marinette gave him. Kagami soon realizes he's lying about something, and doesn't take it well.

There's a good performance from Kagami's voice actress here, and it's a nice parallel to Luka, who also feels a sense of betrayal when Marinette can't be honest with him. But this scene does tie into the problem with Adrien and Kagami in this episode, and I'll get into it towards the end.

Kagami storms off, and is immediately akumatized by Shadowmoth, turning her into Lies.

Like Truth, the design here is really forgettable. The design is all white and gives Kagami a haircut that looks like it belongs in The Jetsons, but that's it. The one thing I like about her is the way her powers work. Instead of going from victim to victim, Lies creates an energy dome that slowly grows and paralyzes anyone has lied before in the past, which is basically everyone who comes into contact with it. It's a pretty interesting idea, and it means that Ladybug and Cat Noir have to rely more on strategy while avoiding any contact with the dome.

Adrien transforms into Cat Noir and charges into action, with Jagged Stone offering to help out.

I don't think you can say the same for your family, can you, Jagged?

Cat Noir tells Jagged to get to a safe place, but much like his one night stand with Anarka, he refuses to pull out, so he gets paralyzed by the dome, along with everyone in the building.

Ladybug meets up with Cat Noir and immediately summons her Lucky Charm, a remote control drone. Since it hasn't lied, it can go into the dome and be used as surveillance while Cat Noir distracts Lies. While it seems like nobody inside the dome can touch Lies, Ladybug realizes that Fang, Jagged Stone's pet crocodile, hasn't lied either, so she uses the drone to lure him out of the building.

Cat Noir thinks of a way to distract Lies by doing what he always does to increase the tension.

You know, I thought of a little game we could play. Why don't we count how many times Cat Noir sacrifices himself this season? So far, the Cat Noir Self-Kill Counter is at 1, but I'm guessing it will be higher the longer this season goes on.

So while Lies is distracted by Cat Noir's unconscious body, Fang runs over and breaks her corrupted object, Marinette's charm. So after using Miraculous Ladybug, Ladybug runs over and, for good reason, I may add, scolds Cat Noir for recklessly sacrificing himself yet again.

You know if this plan failed, not only would Shadowmoth get your Miraculous, but Ladybug would be all alone, you idiot! And we're supposed to find this reckless endangerment funny!? Seriously, Ladybug smiles at Cat Noir's stupid little quip as he still flirts with her right after he got into a fight with his girlfriend.

The next day, Adrien apologizes to Kagami, but she says she can't trust him, not as a boyfriend, and not as a friend either. And here is the problem with the Adrigami breakup. Like with the Lukanette breakup, it chooses to focus on one detail instead of the other, and glaringly obvious detail. The episode is trying to say that the whole reason Kagami and Adrien can't work as a couple is because of Adrien keeping his life as Cat Noir a secret. In reality, both of them have problems that they need to work on before they consider dating. Kagami has shown herself to be a massive control freak in this episode because of her own vision of what Adrien is like, showing she doesn't respect his boundaries or beliefs.

And Adrien? Where do I begin?

Adrien clearly shows several signs that he hasn't moved on from Ladybug with how much he flirts with her, even before he and Kagami got together, and there's the fact that unlike Marinette who realizes how she can't have a love life, it doesn't feel like Adrien actually learned that lesson.

We are supposed to see Adrien focusing on his secret life as Cat Noir as the responsible thing to do, and that like Ladybug, he needs to prioritize being Cat Noir over dating. The thing is that this episode has only showed how he doesn't take any of the hero stuff seriously. Throughout the episode, he treats being Cat Noir as a fun pasttime, when it comes to craving Ladybug's attention to the point where he's just short of causing an Akuma attack out of desperation until he sees someone else to spend time with, constantly flirts with Ladybug despite how annoyed she can come across, doesn't understand any of the stuff she has to deal with now that she's Guardian, and will sacrifice himself all so Ladybug can do all the work for him. He doesn't care about anything unless he gains something in return. It doesn't matter if lives are in danger, he thinks his personal feelings are more important because his civilian life is sO hAaArRd.

At one point when we were all kids, we all wanted to be superheroes because we all thought the idea of having superpowers and the freedom to do whatever we wanted sounded awesome. But that's not what being a hero is. We never thought about the responsibility that comes with being a superhero. One of the main themes of superhero media that we all watched growing up was that they would help us to learn right from wrong, and that sometimes, personal sacrifices have to be made for the greater good, and our feelings just aren't that important in the grand scheme of things. Whether we learned this lesson from Superman, Spider-Man, Sailor Moon, the Power Rangers, or even the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, what matters is that by the time we reached the age of these heroes, we would have a similar moral compass so we would understand why these heroes would make some of the choices they did, and we would be able to make similar choices if we encountered situations like the ones they went through.

Part of growing up is realizing that being a superhero isn't all fun and games. Sometimes, you need to put your own personal desires aside to make sure nobody gets hurt because of something you did or didn't do. We are currently in the fourth season of this show, and after 82 episodes, Cat Noir has still failed to learn that lesson. He doesn't understand that even if his “true self” is clowning around, that's not how a hero acts. You don't see Batman or Captain America acting this way, and you don't see real life soldiers or emergency workers acting this way either.

And that's not even getting into the fact that this is the same problem the Lukanette breakup had. Even though Marinette had a valid reason to break things off with Luka because she realized being Guardian was more important, the narrative framed it like she was still into Adrien, no matter if she was making an effort to get over him. Likewise, even though both Adrien and Kagami have issues the narrative refuses to actually acknowledge, they frame it as Adrien's hero life was ruining their relationship, when in reality, the reasons for both the Adrigami breakup and the Lukanette breakup should have been flipped. “Truth” should have been about Marinette coming to terms with her new responsibilities as the Guardian, and “Lies” should have been about Adrien realizing he needs to work on his own personal issues before he considers his feelings for Kagami or Ladybug.

So the episode just ends with Ladybug and Cat Noir saying that even if they have to keep secrets about their identities, they can still trust each other. Also, before Kagami dumped him, Adrien reaffirmed his feelings for Ladybug (the only time they were actually referenced outside of flirting and his phone's wallpaper), which implies that Adrien is going to continue to pursue Ladybug, having learned nothing from this whole episode.

You know, after watching both this episode and “Truth”,  and seeing how it undid two of the major changes from the Season 3 finale, does it almost feel like nothing's changed at all? Does it almost feel like you've been here before? How am I gonna be a optimist about this? Hell if I know, this episode's honestly worse than “Truth” was.

Put aside your feelings on the Adrigami breakup, the pacing here was awful. Because the writers thought it would be interesting to have some continuity for once by having it take place right after “Truth”, the timeline is incredibly confusing. Can Shadowmoth just create more Akumas at once without having to recharge? And shouldn't Ladybug and Cat Noir be exhausted from having to fight two Akumas and a Sentimonster in one day?

Even then, about half of the episode was spent following Adrien as he whined about how hard he supposedly has it, proving despite what Astruc continues to state, he is far from perfect, and like what he loves to say about Chloe, refuses to change. Wow, that's so interesting. And we're supposed to feel bad for Cat Noir and be mad at Ladybug for missing their patrol, forgetting everything she's been going through in the last week, considering how Gabriel just fixed the Peacock Miraculous, suggesting that the events of “Truth” and “Lies” happened not too long after “Miracle Queen”. Even the Akuma fight wasn't that interesting because it was crammed into about five minutes thanks to everything else going on in this episode.

In an attempt to make the audience sympathize with him, this episode only made me loathe the way Adrien is portrayed even more. Seriously, he reaches “Frozer” levels of unlikability in this episode. Maybe he'll get some much needed character development, but given how much Astruc will put him on a pedestal and ignore his flaws, I don't think it's going to happen anytime soon.

But I still don't see the point of spending so much time building up this relationship for two seasons just to end it as soon as they hook up. At the end of the day, all Lukanette and Adrigami amounted to was filler. It was a way to get in some romantic scenes for the fans while the writers continue to drag out the Love Square drama like a taffy puller. And now that Luka and Kagami have served their purpose, watch as Astruc and the other writers start to slowly remove them from the narrative until they appear about as often as Nino does now.

After all, why care about anything in this show that isn’t related to the Love Square? It’s clear none of the writers do.

[asphalt-cocktail]

Finding my way back

Summary: Nearly a decade after you and John break up you manage to find your way back to him.

A/N: Hello my dears! So I wrote this for Beatle and Queen secret santa exchange! Apologies it’s not heavily Christmas/holiday themed; it does take place during winter so I hope that counts for something. I hope you enjoy your fic as much as i enjoyed writing it @sweetrosetta-martin​! I wrote this after I heard the song Green Papaya by Lianne La Havas which makes me feel some type of way. Also shout out to @casafrass​ and @moodysunflowergirl​ for putting this together! Thank you for all your hard work and organization for this! 

Pairing: John Lennon x Female!Reader

Warnings: Okay friends, we’ve got a bit of everything in here! It’s got some mild illusions to smut and steamy smooches, some angst, some fluff, pinning, longing, break ups, cigarettes, alcohol (I think), swearing, we’ve got Teddy boy!John and 70s!John. But no actual smut. 

Word Count: 5.4k

Your heart ached in your chest as you sat in front of John, “What do you mean we can’t see each other anymore?” Your voice cracked with emotion.

John watched your watery eyes from behind his glasses and let out a deep sigh, “I’m going to be touring a lot and Brian wants us to move to London, so I just…” His own voice cracked with emotion, “So I just don’t think we should keep seeing each other.” He looked away unable to maintain eye contact with you.

“But we survived Germany!” You protested back, “It will be okay, I can visit you when you have shows nearby,” You wanted this to work, being with John felt like home. You sniffed, “You know like wait backstage with flowers and everything.” You said and began to rub your stinging eyes.

You were right, the two of you had survived Germany, but it was only because it lasted a few short months and your relationship was open out of respect for the two of you; John didn’t know how long this Beatles thing was going to last and from the looks of it, it was going to last quite a while. John rubbed the tears from behind his glasses, smudging his finger along the lenses and clouding the vision of your perfect face. He squeezed your hand tightly in his own, “It’ll be fine I promise,” He said pausing to kiss your knuckles, “I love you [Y/N] I really do, and if it’s meant to be we will be together again.” He gave you one last chaste kiss; your faces were wet from tear and it was sad and short lived. You embraced him tightly inhaling the scent of cigarettes, mint gun, and a smell that was so distinctly John before finally letting him go to part ways.

The two of you exchanged letters for the first few months of his first tour, but at this point it has been so long that you didn’t remember who stopped writing who and honestly, why did it matter? John was constantly an aching thought in the back of your mind, and you had constant reminders of him from posters to news articles, to full size cardboard cut outs that sat in record stores. It seemed everywhere you turned you saw him which only increased the yearning.

It took several months but you finally found yourself back in a routine that didn’t include John, it was almost like when he went to Germany except this time he wasn’t coming back for good. You finished up school, found a job working in marketing, and had several shitty boyfriends before you found yourself in New York city working in the marketing division of a fashion brand and met Noah. He was nice, but he wasn’t John.

He didn’t smoke cigarettes, or wear glasses, and couldn’t understand art. But he was here, and the sex was pretty okay.

Noah was nice and he made you a pot of coffee every morning he slept over and didn’t try to pry too far into your personal life. All around you didn’t have any qualms with him; it just didn’t feel complete.

The scent of freshly roasted coffee drifted through your home as you woke up with your alarm clock blaring in your ears. You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and rolled out of bed. Noah was busying himself in the kitchen, you should just ask him to move in at this point. “Did you get the paper?” You asked sitting down at the table.

“On the counter, love.” He answered before grabbing it and sliding it across the table towards you. Much to your surprise in big bold letters on the front page “PAUL SPLITS THE BEATLES” were plastered across it. Naturally a picture of the doe-eyed man you once called a friend accompanied it as well as a smaller picture of the group.

“Fucking Christ.” You mumbled to yourself and turned the page, hoping to find something else to read, some couple getting married or some advice column, but no, your eyes continued to draw themselves back to the fab four and specifically John. He looked wildly different now; long hair, glasses, eccentric wardrobe all made him look almost unfamiliar

You finally gave in and read the article; from what you observed in the news and on television tensions were high between the four and it seemed as though fame had gotten the best of them, “Crazy, right?” Noah asked handing you a cup of coffee, “Who would have thought? It looked like they were going to be together forever. But get your riches and split I guess, yeah?”

A sour feeling filled your belly, John and Paul cared more about the Beatles than Noah could ever know. The idea of get rich and dip was ridiculous, wasn’t it? “I don’t think that is the case.” You mumbled before abruptly getting up to get ready for work, forgetting your morning coffee.

It had been almost a decade since you had last seen John, and a lot could have changed. He was no longer the tough teddy boy you had grown to love. His hair had grown out and he was with Yoko Ono now, from the looks of if they were essentially attached at the hip. A part of you hoped you and Noah would never achieve that level of need in your relationship.

Unfortunately, as months passed there seemed to be no other way to progress your and Noah’s relationship and one day he slept over and never left. You no longer had your own space to escape to or much alone time aside from when Noah came home an hour after you from work. You felt throttled and frankly didn’t like it, nor did you like Noah much anymore. It seemed like the right step though, after three years of dating; you could tell Noah craved monogamy.  

Your day at work was long and exhausting. All you could think of was your hour of peace and quiet before Noah came home and talked about his boring life at work. If you had to use a color to describe your life it would be grey, dull, boring, no vibrancy or excitement.

New York was full of bright vibrant colors and never slept; it was much livelier that than the cloudy northern United Kingdom city you once called home, but in the small apartment that you lived in there was constant monotony. Waking up, making coffee, going to work, coming home, reading and making dinner, going to sleep; only to repeat that for five days in a row and then sit around the house during the weekend, or leave to get groceries if you were lucky. If you were unlucky, Noah’s accountant friends would come over and talk your ear off about their corporate work life you just couldn’t wrap your head around.

Your mind was swimming with thoughts, mostly about your stagnant life as you navigated your way off the subway once you reached your stop and walked off. It was loud and cramped as everyone flooded off; you kept your head low and pushed your way through the crowd. A firm, but boney shoulder pushed into you causing your thoughts to flee and your brows furrowed as you looked up, “Watch it, asshole.” You mumbled under your breath and looked up before you froze.

Your eyes locked with a pair of eyes that were all too familiar and all the breath in your body seemed to leave, “[Y/N]?” John asked you, seemingly just as shocked as you were.

Despite being in the subway station the world around you stopped. A few sputtering words came out to form an incoherent sentence as you were consumed with shock. Your body became ridged and you sharply exhaled before turning and continuing your short jaunt home.

That night you laid on your side and your mind was consumed with so many thoughts, mostly John if you were being honest. You’d thought you had long since blocked the ghost from your memory, but it appeared that seeing him caused a number of memories to rouse from the depths of your consciousness. You hated it. John Lennon was once again living in your head rent free.

Noah gripped your side and kissed along your shoulders and neck while his hand rubbed your hips and slowly began to wander upwards towards your breasts. The sudden touch caused you to jump, “Not tonight,” You mumbled trying to sound tired.

Noah let out a soft sigh before giving your shoulder one last kiss, “Sorry, you had a long day, love.” He said pulling you close against him and resting his head on your shoulder. As you pretended to sleep you laid in your bed and stared at the wall of darkness in your room.

When the hell did John come to New York?

Did he live nearby?

Was Yoko with him?

Questions swirled around in your mind; questions that would not get answered unless you actively sought out an answer.

As sleep consumed you, you dreamt of John.

The Reeperbahn had a smell you would never forget. You didn’t know cities could have distinct smells until you traveled to Germany to visit John for the first time since he had left Liverpool. It was a combination of pollution, beer, and a smell you had hoped to never figure out what caused it. From his letters this place seemed larger than life, and when you took your first steps off the train you saw it was.

John tackled you with a warm hug, he smelled like sweat, beer, and cigarettes, “You stink.” You grinned and laughed as he kissed your face all over.

“Our options are kind of limited, love.” He grinned and wrapped his arm around your waist keeping you close to him as the two of you walked down the busy street.

He took you to a restaurant, you honestly hadn’t expected him to take you on a date especially with where you were and how little money he had. “Come on, I’ve got a show in two hours,” He grinned, excited to have you watch him play.

“And then we met this group of Germans, they’ll be at the show tonight. I know you’ll love them.” His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you, “Stu is going with one of them, Astrid. She’s great too, her ma lets us shower at her place and makes us dinner sometimes.” You soaked in all the stories John had to share.

His life seemed so exciting here in Germany, but you could see how exhausted he was beginning to get, “You’ve got to hear how we sound now, Pete’s still shit, but Paul, George and I are really getting better.” He shifted in his seat and poked at his food, “I don’t know if Stu is going to stick with us much longer though; he’s been talking about going back to art school.”

That night you and John slept cramped together in his little bunk bed in the back room. You woke up to him rubbing your arm with the tips of his calloused fingers and he kissed your shoulder.

Rolling over you captured his lips in a soft kiss, he tasted of beer and cigarettes and he clung to you, holding you so close it almost hurt. Breaking the kiss, he began to pepper soft kisses along your jaw and neck, “I love you so much,” He said between heavy breaths.

“I love you too John.” You responded letting out a soft whimper as his fingers began to rub you through the cloth short wore to sleep.

With a gasp you shot up in bed, coated in a layer of sweat and looked around the still dark room, wide eyed. Noah rubbed his sleepy eyes as he woke up, “What’s wrong, hun?” He asked.

You gained control of your breathing once more and laid back down, still uncomfortably sweaty; “Nothing, just a nightmare.” You answered and swallowed thickly.

---

For weeks, John plagued your mind and you were starting to convince yourself that you hadn’t truly seen him and that you were just going crazy. Your sleep was becoming more and more restless as time went on. It got so noticeable that even Noah questioned it.

“Take some time off, hun, you work too much.” He said.

So that was what you did. You finally had a week off after what felt like ages.

It was nice, but you were barely half a day into your vacation, and you began to feel restless. What could you possibly do to fill your time?

Your mind began to wander and drift off to thoughts of John; a wave of nausea immediately washed over you. “I need to leave.” You abruptly said and grabbed your purse and house keys before leaving your flat.

You soon found yourself at Central Park. Despite it being autumn, the weather was nice, the kind of nice where you look outside, and it seems warmer than it is. The breeze was soft but brisk you walked through the park enjoying the breath of fresh air. As you walked through the running paths you admired the changing leaves and the crunching sound they made under your feet.

You eyed a bench that overlooked The Lake, so cleverly named, and brushed the fallen leaves that covered it before you sat down. For once you felt like your mind was free from worry and the anxieties that had been consuming you the last several weeks.

That was until you got up and saw a familiar figure walking down the path that would directly cause yours. A shot of adrenaline shot through you and your heart began to race. It was as though your fight or flight responses had kicked in and they were telling you to get the fuck out of there. You frantically looked around and it felt like a lose-lose situation with whatever option you chose. So, you stayed; how bad was it going to be? Maybe he wouldn’t even notice?

John walked past your little out cove and glanced at you and then looked again, “Fucking hell.” He mumbled stopping in his tracks.

The two of you stood frozen, staring at each other for what seemed like a lifetime before John finally broke the silence, “I thought I saw you at the subway station.” He said bluntly, his familiar voice causing a warm feeling to erupt in your belly and spread to the tips of your fingers.

You opened your mouth and closed it, trying to think of something to say, “You did.” Was what you finally spoke.

“Right,” He sighed, looking down in defeat.

You stuffed your hands in your pockets and shifted the weight on your feet, “Do you want to sit?” You asked abruptly.

John looked at you through his round lenses and nodded, “Sure, I could sit for a while.” He answered.

The two of you sat across from each other on your respective benches, “So, how long have you lived here for?” John asked watching you nervously pick at your fingers.

You looked up from your hands, “About 6 years now.” You leaned back, now feeling confident enough to study his features. His face was thinner, age lines had begun to map themselves out on his face, and his hair was messily layered and framed the sides of his face nicely. He was still as handsome as ever, “How long have you lived here for?”

John cleared his throat and pulled out his cigarettes, placing one in his mouth, “About two years now,” the conversation was weird, like the two of you didn’t know what to talk about. You watched as John’s long fingers light his cigarette, the spicy smell filling the space between the two of you and the smoke delicately curling up towards the sky, “So do you work near by or something?” He asked casually crossing his legs and resting his arm on the back of the bench.

You shook your head, “No, I don’t I just needed to get out of the house.” You said, staring at the reason you felt urged to leave your home in the first place, “I only live about six blocks away. It’s a nice walk.” You added, your stomach suddenly feeling sour as you remembered Noah.

John hummed, inhaling deeply on the cigarette the ember burning a bright red before dimming ever so slightly, “Do you work at all?” His tone came off ruder than expected, but you knew he didn’t intend for it to.

“Marketing.” You answered simply. Your brain swam with question you had for your former lover, “Do you live nearby?” You asked returning the question back to him.

John nodded behind him, “The Dakotas.” He mimicked your shortness. You looked and could see the large building peaking out from the tops of the trees.

You hummed, “Must be nice.” You said flashing him a closed mouth smile.

“It is.” He added and stood up, taking one last deep inhale before stubbing out his half-smoked cigarette in the snow and putting it in his pocket, “You look good, you know.” He said, his eyes studying your seated form before settling on your face.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious and very aware of your existence you crossed pulled your winter coat tighter around you, “So do you John.” You responded, “You’ll have to show me your place sometime.” You boldly suggested.

John flashed you a crooked smile before fishing around in his pocket, “Call me and I’ll see if I can fit you into my schedule.” He said before handing you a business card. Of course, he had business cards.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes as you took the thick and expensive paper and pocketed it, “I’ll have my people call your people.” You allowed a smile to break your nervous features.

That night your mind saw no peace. You sat in the bathroom staring at the business card in your hand. It was nearly 3 am and the delicate gold letters reflected in the shitty florescent lights that made your eyes ache as you repeatedly read the phone number and name.

The rest of your vacation it seemed as though you were not going to get the mental break you so desperately craved. You watched as Noah left for work and felt a pang of guilt rising in your chest; a pice of you felt greedy for wanting to see John again. So, you figured it would be best to tuck it away in the back of your mind to the place where your other thoughts of John lived and put the card away in a shoe box and tried to forget.

---

Forgetting about your interaction with John seemed to work well, that is until you and Noah broke up.

He stood in the doorway with the boxes of his things. You could tell he didn’t feel great, and neither did you. But a piece of you felt thankful that he was finally moving out. After seeing John your body craved the spontaneity that he used to give you, and the spontaneity that Noah had lacked.

Once the last of his things were moved from your apartment you felt as though a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You felt good, like a breath of fresh air. You busied yourself by rearranging your home and filling the empty spaces that Noah left after he and his belongings vacated your space.

As you moved your shoe boxes and rearranged your closet a business card slipped from the tear in one of them. It was the one that John had given you only a few months ago.

Your breath hitched in your throat as you stared at the intricate gold letters you familiarized yourself with that night that seemed so long ago. You looked at the clock, it was only 4 PM and you had hoped he wasn’t busy.

You curled up on your couch and held the phone receiver against your ear listening to it ring as you absentmindedly played with the stiff card in your hand.

“Hello?” You instantly recognized John’s voice.

“John?” You responded back, “It’s, um, it’s [Y/N]” You felt a surge of nerves pulse through you.

“You know, I expected you to call sooner.” John skipped the formal greetings.

You couldn’t help but let out a nervous laugh, “Yeah, sorry about that. I suppose nerves got the best of me.” It wasn’t a whole truth, but a half truth, “Do you think you’d be interested in showing me your place sometime?” you asked remembering back to the conversation the two of you had several months prior.

John hummed and you could hear the soft rustle of paper in the background before he cleared his throat, “Yeah, I suppose I could fit you in. Did you want to stay for dinner?”

Your heart thudded in your chest, “Dinner?” You question out loud and let out a puff of air, “Yeah, I suppose I could.”

“Right, so 6 o’clock sound good?” John asked, “I can send a car for you.”

“A car?” You asked, not accustom to the luxuries of being a Beatle, “I can walk it’ll be fine.”

John let out a sigh, “It’s freezing outside and nearly pitch black. You aren’t walking.” He said firmly.

“Fine.” You answered in defeat and gave him your address to send the car.

“Right, be ready by 5:30.” He said  

“Shit, okay.” You said before bidding him farewell and scrambling to get ready. The sleek black car arrived and drove you to the Dakotas. It was nice, far nicer than any building you had ever been in before. The driver walked you up to John’s apartment and let you in.

The room was decorated in a hodgepodge of John’s interests, from music to art to antiques; with everything tastefully on display. John walked out, dressed casually in a shirt, jeans, and no shoes and drank in your figure as you stripped off your jacket. You shifted nervously under his intense gaze, “So, you wanted a tour, yeah?” John asked.

You nodded and watched as he crossed his arms over his chest, admiring how his biceps flexed and bulged when his hands rested in position, “Yeah, a tour.” You said secretly hoping this would amount to much more than a tour.

John stretched his arms out, “Well welcome to my humble home.” He greeted in a grandiose manor.

Humble, right.

John’s home was more extravagant than you could have imagined. It was much better than the apartment he lived in with Stu or the back room they had in Hamburg and even better than when he lived with Mimi. He had several cats that roamed around his home; it made you smile and remember the time he brought a stray home and convinced Mimi to keep him. It seemed as though old habits died hard when it came to John.

The two of you made your way back to his living room and he sat down on his couch, “Come on, sit.” He said patting the spot next to him.

“Oh,” You abruptly said, not noticing you had been standing in the middle of the room studying the various things on the wall, “Right.” You quickly sat on the couch uncomfortably stiff, “So… dinner?” You asked.

John nodded his head, not having forgotten the food and pulled out a box of take out menus, “Do you want to order something, I haven’t gotten much for groceries this week.” He admitted sheepishly.

You rifled through the various menus in his collection, “So,” You started, “Where is Yoko?” You asked honestly wondering where his other half was.

“We’re separated right now.” He said sounding uncomfortable.

You glanced over at John and noted his somber expression, this was obviously a topic he didn’t want to talk about. “Sorry to pry.” You said before sliding him the menu of one of your favorite Chinese restaurants in the area.

“It’s a valid question.” He stated, now intently focused on the menu, “What about you?” He asked, peaking up to glance at you before quickly looking away.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, your love life and what not.” He followed up quickly.

You shifted uncomfortably, “Oh, well my ex just moved out today.”

John arched one of his thick brows, “Hm,” He grunted, “Nice lad?” He questioned.

You shrugged, “Yeah, I suppose. Just boring.” You answered thinking back to the stale and stagnant version of your life that was your reality only a week ago.

John watched you frown in distain before he got up to place your orders, “What did you want again?” He asked.

“The number 23 dinner special with an eggroll.” You had your order memorized.

As John placed the order on his telephone, you listened to the sound of his muffled voice and leaned back on the couch. It was interesting how despite not seeing each other for nearly a decade, you still found your way back to him. One of his cats climbed their way on your lap and purred as you scratched behind its ears.

“She likes you.” John said as he walked back into the room, “Food should be here in 45 minutes.” He said plopping back down. The black cat nuzzled its head into your head and let out a soft meow.

“What’s her name?” You asked enjoying the attention your newfound friend was giving you.

“Salt.” He said, a smile cracking his features.

“Salt?” You asked letting out a small huff of laughter.

“Her sister, Pepper is somewhere around here.” He said reaching over and petting Salt, scratching her behind the ears.

Your 45 minutes with John was spent chatting and catching up, he talked about Mimi and told you that she asked about you often and he never knew how to respond, and you talked to him about how you finished college and began your marketing job.

It was interesting how the two of you were able to smooth over the awkwardness of your conversation in just a few short hours, unlike your previous run ins. The familiar warm feeling you would get every time you’d talk to him quickly returned. When your food arrived the doorman from the front of the building brought it up and the two of you laid out your spread on the coffee table.

John walked over to a shelf of movies and pulled one out. He turned towards you, flashing you the box. It didn’t surprise you when he showed you Clockwork Orange. It was a very John movie, “Want to watch it?” He asked smiling softly.

You nodded your head, “Pop it in.” You said waving your hand towards his television.

The movie played in the background as the two of you continued to talk and eat your takeaway, “How are you doing?” You asked.

“I’m fine, how are you?” He responded a confused expression plastered on his face.

You shook your head, “No, John I really mean it; how are you?” You said giving him a sympathetic expression.

Putting his chopsticks down, John sighed, “I don’t know.” He pursed his lips deep in thought, “I mean I suppose I’ve been better.” He answered honestly, “I mean, my wife left me, my friends I’ve known for the last two decades don’t really want much to do with me.” John shrugged his should and looked away from you.

You nodded your head reaching over and grabbing his hand, rubbing it with your thumb before you patted it lightly and pulled it away. John chased your hand with his own and laced his fingers with yours. The rough underside of his palm brushed against your soft ones. The contrasting touch made you shiver, “I missed you.” He said and squeezed your hand.

John brought your hand to the side of his face and pressed your palm to his cheek, leaning into the warmth of your hand, “I missed you too.” You said as you thumb stroked his cheek bone. He turned his face and kissed your skin.

Your breath hitched in the back of your throat and the feeling of John’s lips burned into your palm. You watched him, his eyes closed and a calm expression taking over his tense body. Slowly you slid closer to him, closing what little space was between the two of you, “John,” You said breaking the soft silence that had settled between the two of you. He hummed and looked up at you urging you to continue, “You know what you told me when we broke up?”

John looked down, you could tell that the topic hurt him as much as it hurt you, “If it’s meant to be, we’ll find each other.” He said softly now looking at your fingers as he played with them.

In this moment he just looked like John, you’re John you had last seen nearly a decade ago. You pulled your fingers away from him and cupped his face, forcing him to look at you. Hesitantly you moved closer to him, feeling the warmth of John’s body radiating off him. Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as your noses touched, lightly brushing against each other.

A soft whimper manifested itself in the back of your throat and trickled out when you felt John press his lips against yours. He pulled your close against his chest and held you against him tightly craving your warmth and body. Your mouths moved with a familiar synchronicity, so familiar it caused your stomach to ache as you frantically clung to John. Your hand managed to fall from his face and tangle itself in his shirt as you tried to pull him closer.

The way your nose bumped against his glasses reminded you of when you were 18 and sneaking into Mimi’s house, giggling as he told you to quiet down while the two of you kissed. You couldn’t help but smile at the memory.

John pulled away and left open mouth kisses on your chin and jaw and finally on your kiss. He immediately went to his favorite spot placing a wet open-mouthed kiss on it. You gasped at the feeling and craned your neck urging him for more.

Which he gladly gave you, pulling more sweet sounds from your mouth. He pulled back and studied your face through hooded eyes. John’s hand came up and he stroked the side of your face with the back of his hand. His touch was light and the back of his hand soft. You let out a sigh and leaned into his touch before looking back at him.

You laid back and pulled John against your chest. He responded by wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling his head into you, “I’m sorry for what’s happened John,” You said and admired the weight of his body against yours.

John rubbed his face into your chest and didn’t look at you, “Stay the night, please.” He pleaded with you.

You rubbed his back as he clung to you, your heart ached hearing the loneliness in his voice, “Of course.” You said and kissed the top of his hair. John hummed with content feeling your fingers tracing patterns against his back.

The following morning you woke up next to John, his arm firmly wrapped around you and hair buried in the back of your neck. You turned around and wrapped your free arm him while your other remained pinned on your side. John let out a soft sigh and pulled you close against his chest and kissed the top of your head. You’d forgotten how much you missed and craved affection. You moved to leave, and John pulled you back, “Don’t leave me,” He said softly.

“I have to use the bathroom.” You said smiling and turning towards John.

He let out a playful groan, “Fine.” He said rolling over and sprawling out on his bed like a starfish.

When you returned John was still in the same position, you’d left him in. As you crawled back into the bed John’s arms slithered around you like a snake and pulled you into his chest. You inhaled deeply, missing his smell and smiled against the thin shirt he wore to bed.

In just a short amount of time the life that had once felt so grey and strange was now beginning to once again feel like home.

[itslieutenanthawkeye]

Lucky Guy

Day 7 of Jeankasa Week: College AU

AO3

Sasha and Connie dragged him forward; they’d loaded him up on caffeine that very afternoon, picked up a set of clothes for him and tried to shave his stubble. Jean hadn’t allowed them to do the latter. The night was starting, and he already felt tired.

Final exams had worn him out, consumed all his energy for the sake of a pass, for the sake of a chance of a good job in the future, a nice home for his family. Not that he had any prospects at the moment, mind you. All he seemed to have was stress, and exhaustion nowadays.

He understood that the two dragging him to the party wanted to help him wind down, but Connie had already started taking over for his family business and Sasha had graduated culinary school a year ago. They were living the adult, independent life already.

Meanwhile Jean was stuck with physics and mathematics. At least the artistic portion part of his classes was fulfilling.

“So, where’s Niccolo?” Connie asked as they got on the tramway.

“He had to close up, but he’ll meet us at the party later.” Sasha said, taking them to the long seat at the back of the tramway. Jean sat in between the two, listening to their chatter in silence. “Aren’t you going to lighten up, Jean? You look like someone just died.”

Jean lowered his head, the repetitive rattling of the cart almost lulling him to sleep. “My will to live has died.”

“Come on, man, is it that bad since Marco left?”

“That traitor.” Jean said, with a tone of voice that spoke longing instead of anger.

Marco and he had decided to study architecture together; Jean driven by his knack for drawing, Marco driven by his desire to be by his side. A year into their university course, however, he’d gotten that scholarship to study photography in Hizuru. A great, one-in-a-lifetime opportunity that didn’t come around twice.

An opportunity that would force them to stay apart for four full years. Since neither had enough money to fly back and forth and Jean had not wanted to give up his studies in Paradis, they’d decided to remain friends. They’d been friends since the beginning, after all.

After the first months of heartbreak, Jean had realized that Marco had left him with just about enough money to pay for three months of rent. Although he couldn’t blame him, Jean had gotten the habit of cursing him lowly for the past year, whenever he was forced to balance his part time job and his ridiculous physics lessons.

“I still don’t understand why you don’t get another roommate.” Connie said, scratching the back of his ear. “Are you just holding out until a cute guy shows up at your door?”

“Or girl.” Sasha added, opening a bag of potato chips sneakily.

“Oi, Sasha,” Jean said, frowning. “We’re gonna get a fine because of you.”

“I’ll pay for it,” Sasha said, waving her hand to undermine the matter. “You guys want some? They’re new spicy ones.”

Jean reached out under her jacket and took a few chips into his mouth. “I take it the restaurant is doing well? With you being okay for paying fines, I mean.”

“Niccolo said that breakfast menu I came out with put us on top. If we keep it up, in about two years we’ll be able to set our next location,” she said proudly, her mouth also half full of chips. She gave Jean a significant look. “We’ll need an architect for the place. And someone here will be almost finished with uni.”

He smiled. “Thanks. I’ll make sure to remind you.”

“You know you can ask for money, right, Jean?” Connie said, resting his back against the seat. “You don’t need to work yourself to death when you’ve got us.”

Another lazy smile came to his face. “I don’t want to be a burden to you guys.”

“You’re more of a burden when you don’t come with us to these things,” Connie said. “First, you missed all barbecue nights at Niccolo and Sasha’s. And now you didn’t want to come, and you know Reiner throws the best parties. His little cousin took down that Galliard guy the last time.”

“Isn’t she a kid?” Jean blurted out.

“She likes to sneak in to get in fights with the college kids.” Connie explained, laughing. “I think she’s been in martial arts since five or something.”

“Now that’s a surprise,” Sasha said, elbowing Connie as the tramway arrived at its next station. Jean looked at the person getting on and his breath caught. Wearing a corseted black dress, her hair up in a high ponytail and wearing a choker around her elegant neck, Mikasa Ackerman stood out as a comet across a blue sky.

“I didn’t think she’d come tonight,” Connie said. “You know, considering Eren.”

“What happened with Eren?” Jean asked.

“Don’t you check her feed?” Connie asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “You know, since you had that huge crush on her in high school and whatnot.”

“I’ve been busy.” Jean said, too tired to try and deny that crush he’d had on her in their school days, the crush that had always irked Marco somehow. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m too busy to be concerned about other people’s drama.”

“They broke up,” Connie said in a gossipy tone, as if Jean hadn’t just snapped at him. “Around six months ago. He skipped town. Didn’t want to be tied down or something, wanted to be free as birds or whatever. He’s backpacking in the continent, I think.”

Jean sat straighter on his seat. That dick. That stupid, nihilistic piece of shit. “Why didn’t you guys tell me? Isn’t Sasha her best friend?”

“Because you disappeared the whole semester, man. That’s why I told you to ask for money instead of working yourself to death,” Connie said, shaking him by the shoulder. “You miss out on parties and gossip.”

“Stop it. She’ll hear you,” Sasha said, lifting her arm to wave at Mikasa. “Hey! Mikasa, over here! Come sit with us!”

Jean felt heat in his cheeks. “Sasha, don’t. She’ll come.”

“That’s what I want.”

“I can’t talk when she looks this pretty.”

Sasha rolled her eyes. “Stop being an idiot, Jean.”

Mikasa’s eyes caught sight of them and she made her way to their seat, not bothering to hold onto anything to keep her balance as the tramway moved forward. They had known each other from high school and little things had changed about the way she moved; she carried herself with the elegance of a swan, and the strength of a mountain. He remembered teasing Eren about her being the boss in their relationship during their very last year of school, when the embers of jealousy had begun to die for Jean, and chuckled lowly at the memory of the enraged response he always received.

“Hi, everyone,” she greeted them. Sasha scooted to the side, and Mikasa sat between her and Jean, close enough for him to smell her perfume. “Are you guys going to Reiner’s?”

“Best parties in Trost.” Sasha said, offering her the bag of potato chips. “Want some?”

Mikasa dipped her hand in the bag. “Aren’t you scared you’ll get a fine?”

“She says she’ll pay it,” Connie explained, reaching over Jean and Mikasa to grab more.

“Sasha,” Mikasa said sternly. “How many more fines are you going to pay?”

“She’s paid more this month?!” Jean said.

“She has. It’s getting ridiculous, she can’t go on a tramway without getting hungry…” Mikasa stopped herself from talking and settled her eyes on him, with a vague surprised expression on her lovely pale face. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’ve been busy with work.” Jean said, shrugging, hoping that she wouldn’t see the blush in his cheeks that look of her had caused. He waited a second, wondering if he should bring up that he had, in fact, seen her. “I saw you, though. Drawing, in the Maria building.”

Understanding washed over her face, and her mouth fell open. “You should’ve said hi, Jean.” She said. “It’s a huge classroom, there’s no way I could’ve seen you.”

“I’m sorry.” Jean muttered. Truth was, he hadn’t wanted her to see him in the state he’d been in two weeks ago. With his double shifts at work and his assignments for the end of the semester, Jean had resembled a walking corpse more than a human.

Mikasa was an anthropology and history major and, much like Jean himself, worked part time jobs. However, with her looks, most of her part time jobs were related to modeling. That morning at creative drawing, she’d been hired to pose for the class covered only by a thin sheet. And despite being a class full of professionals, Jean had still not wanted the girl who resembled a goddess to see him bordering a mental breakdown.

“Have you been getting enough sleep?” She asked him.

“Does it show that bad?”

Mikasa’s mouth made a perfect O in terror. “I didn’t mean to sound like that.”

Jean chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. It shows. If uni wasn’t free, I would’ve gone broke already.”

“You need to look after your health more, Jean. Have you even been eating well? If you don’t sleep and don’t eat well, you’re just going to burn out,” Mikasa said, then froze, grabbing the hand that was going to reach out to him. “I’m sorry. I just sounded like a mother there.”

“You’re right, though.” Jean replied, smiling at her. “I haven’t been eating well. With work—”

“Is that why you haven’t been to any of the barbecues?”

“You went?”

Mikasa nodded. “We missed you.”

Jean’s head came up with a thousand names to call himself in that moment. He missed his friends enough during the semesters without the knowledge that she’d been hanging out with them at barbecue night. “I’ll make it next time.” He managed to say. “Did Armin go?”

“He’s been busy with moving in with Annie.” Mikasa said, sighing. “I don’t think I’d talk to anyone outside work if it wasn’t for Sasha and Mina.”

“Wait, Armin moved out too?” Jean asked, growing concerned. “Did those two just up and left you alone in that huge apartment?”

“Armin left me some money to pay a couple more months’ worth of rent.” Mikasa said, almost apologizing in Armin’s behalf. Jean’s fists clenched automatically; he’d seen how smitten he was with that marleyan girl, but leaving Mikasa alone to pay for that huge apartment by herself…

“Besides, I insisted,” Mikasa added with a low voice. “I didn’t want him to wallow in self pity with me when he has a perfectly lovely girlfriend.”

Jean sighed tiredly. He should’ve known. Even heart broken, Mikasa cared more about her friend’s happiness than her own economic safety. In a way, it was something that made her all the more charming in his eyes.

“Hey, are you two going to ignore us all the way there?” Connie asked, slapping the back of Jean’s head. “Why did you have to sit in between us if you’re just gonna talk to each other?”

“He’s right,” Sasha said, shaking Mikasa by the shoulder. “Mikasa, pay attention to your best friend now! She brought chips for you!”

Mikasa narrowed her eyes in Sasha’s direction. “Since when do you carry food for anyone but yourself, Braus?”

Sasha’s face contracted into a miserable expression, and she threw herself over Mikasa, hugging her while kissing her head. “Not the last name treatment, Mikasa!”

Maybe a few years ago, Mikasa would’ve thrown Sasha back onto her seat. This time, however, she limited herself to exchange an amused look with him and Connie, patting Sasha’s head in a conciliatory manner. “Alright, alright. Control yourself,” she told Sasha. “Don’t you have a boyfriend? What will Niccolo say if he sees you hugging a woman like this?”

“He’ll probably think we look hot.” Sasha replied innocently.

“What a perv.”

“Mikasa!”

_________________

The tramway took them to the west end of Trost, where high skyscrapers and fancy apartment buildings rose into the sky. The elevator took them a whole thirty floors up to Reine’rs apartment. As soon as they walked in, Jean stared at the ceramic floors, the balcony with its hot tub and view of the distant mountains in the island. When Reiner came to greet them with a hug for each, Jean held him by the shoulders.

“When did you get this rich?” He asked, baffled. How had everyone gotten rich so quick before him?

“My mother and I won the alimony trial last month,” Reiner laughed, hugging him again to then make a wide gesture with his arms at the people in the room. From the way he moved, Jean guessed he was already drunk. “Nineteen years’ worth of unpaid alimony, all paid in full!”

The crowd cheered, raising their beer bottles in the air to celebrate his makeshift toast. “Galliard, Pieck!” Reiner said, stumbling back into the crowd, being caught by the two exchange Marleyan students. “Get the karaoke machine going!”

Sasha and Connie dived into the party in full, going over to Mina, who had her hands full while pouring two bottles of vodka into a large crystal bowl filled with fruits and juice. Jean rubbed his temple; getting drunk wasn’t on his list of priorities, not with so little sleep in his system.

He turned to look at his right, realizing Mikasa stood by the door, watching the crowd move around Reiner’s apartment with apprehension. He took a couple of steps in her direction, leaning against the wall with his hands crossed over his chest, perhaps in a subconscious attempt to appear nonchalant. “See anyone you know?” He asked.

“Too many people.” She muttered in response, rubbing her arms. “Sasha said this was going to be like the barbecue.”

One would think that with her looks and strength, Mikasa would be a little more popular. She’d been an introvert since secondary school, shielded behind the personalities of her two childhood friends. And despite that a few people had managed to break through the cold outer layer of her personality (like Sasha, who’s might as well have gone through it with a war hammer) it always seemed to Jean that there as hidden sadness behind her eyes, a brake of sorts that didn’t allow her to express herself to the fullest.

“Let’s go to the balcony,” she said, pulling his sleeve. “Bring beers.”

Jean almost -almost- felt bad for Reiner’s father as they walked along the balcony. Trost had skyscrapers aplenty, but very few had a perfect look of the suburbs and mountains, and very few had an infinity pool with a hot tub included. The place must’ve costed a fortune. He could almost see his own neighborhood from this height.

They found a set of unoccupied pillowed seats at the corner, far from Reiner’s infinity pool, and sat there to watch the city in silence.

“I live there,” Mikasa said after a while, pointing south to a cluster of colorful buildings. “It’s the big tall one, with the red lights.”

“Ah, party town,” Jean said. He and Marco had tried to find a place there, but the rent had been astronomical, given its strategic location near the universities and clubs. “Was it a big change from the suburbs? That’s where you grew up in, right?”

“It was a huge change from my uncle’s house,” she said, her eyes set on the red building, amused at some memory Jean wasn’t aware of. “He was grossed out when he visited last year.”

“College neighborhood isn’t for him?”

“He said it was too dirty,” Mikasa said, sighing. “Although I’m sure he was terrified at the number of teenagers that threw themselves at him. He said I was to visit him from now on.”

Jean giggled at that. “Girls threw themselves at Levi?”

“Apparently he’s got something that makes university students go crazy.” Mikasa said, making a disgusted noise. Jean laughed again; Levi had been their teacher in middle school. How any college girl found him so appealing, he didn’t understand.

“Well, at least you can have fun in that neighborhood.” Jean said.

Mikasa made another disgusted noise. “I was only there because Eren suggested it. It was too loud for my liking. Too many creeps on the streets. And the rent is too high.”

“How did you guys manage to afford that? I mean, Eren and Armin aren’t precisely rich,” Jean said, covering his mouth as soon as he realized what he’d blurted out. “I’m sorry, Mikasa! I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” Mikasa said, shaking her head in amusement. “Eren’s brother paid for most of the rent. He works in Marley and sent him money.”

She finished with a sigh, setting her eyes on the floor for a second before taking a sip of her beer. When she turned to look at him, Jean recognized annoyance in her eyes. “Now that he’s gone, Zeke stopped paying for that big chunk of the rent.”

“And Armin moved in with Annie,” Jean finished saying.

“And I’m in that huge place all by myself,” Mikasa said, taking another sip from her bottle. “Scraping my bank account to pay utilities, taking any modeling job that comes up besides working at Sasha’s restaurant, two months behind on rent.”

“Did Sasha offer you money yet?” Jean asked, recalling all the times their friend had tried to hand him checks for his rent.

Mikasa smiled. “A couple of times. But I don’t want to be a burden to her. As good as the restaurant is doing, having her own business can be tricky. One bad luck streak and she’ll be needing that money she offers me.”

“What about a roommate?”

“Nobody I know can afford rent there. I don’t want to disturb Niccolo and Sasha, and Levi has plenty on his plate. And it’s impossible to find a place this late in the year,” Mikasa said, sighing tiredly again. “Do you know how close I am to modeling underwear? A man in this shady company offered me so much money for nudes the other day—”

“Move in with me.” Jean blurted out, and his words were followed by excruciatingly long minutes. Mikasa rested her back against the seat, scrutinizing him with those perfect, serious eyes. “I don’t mean in a weird way. I mean, my rent is much less than yours must be. But ever since Marco left, it’s been harder to afford it on my own. I could use a roommate, and all the people I’ve interviewed were weirdos.”

“Won’t Marco be angry?” Mikasa asked politely. “Won’t he be upset that a girl is living with you?”

Jean smiled. “We’re not together anymore.”

“No?” She said, looking genuinely surprised. “Why? What happened? I thought—”

“Neither wanted a long-distance relationship, or had the money to afford one,” Jean explained, surprised at the lack of pain in his words when he spoke of what had happened. Perhaps, the exhaustion throughout the year had forced his heart to get over a heartbreak quickly.

“Besides,” Jan added, arching his eyebrow in her direction. “I know for a fact that hizuran people are beautiful. I couldn’t deny him having fun over there. So, we decided to stay as friends.”

Mikasa smiled, and Jean blushed. “You’re a good friend.”

“I’m not,” Jean replied, leaning back against his seat as well. “I had no idea about you and Eren. You’re our friend since high school, and I had no idea you’d gotten your heart broken too this year. So, I’m not that good of a friend.”

Mikasa rested her hand at her sides, her pinky almost touching his, leaning back to catch sight of the night sky. “You’re in no obligation to carry anyone’s pain, Jean, let alone mine.”

“What do you mean? You’re my friend.”

“I know. We are friends,” Mikasa said quickly, as if noticing the hint of pain her previous words had caused in him. “What I mean is…I knew it was going to happen. I saw the change in Eren. I knew he wouldn’t want to stay put. He was more in love with the idea of freedom than with me. I should’ve ended it a long while ago. So, no need to carry pain that was dragged on for no purpose.”

“And you didn’t want to go with him?”

Mikasa thought about it for a moment. He could hear Reiner and that Pieck girl singing at the top of their lungs inside, as well as Connie’s laughter. And yet, all his mind was set on was her, how her eyes focused on his as she spoke every word, how a bit of lipstick had smudged on the edges of her mouth due to their drinking. Jean had always been aware of Mikasa’s beauty, but he hadn’t been truly enthralled by it in a very long time.

“I don’t think I would’ve gone,” she said at last. “I love the island. I love my home. I want to have a peaceful life here, grow old here. I like seeing new places, but I don’t want to spend my life wandering. He did.”

Jean nodded, understanding her fully. All he’d ever dreamed of was a nice house in the inner districts, alongside the wife -or husband- of his choosing.

“Besides,” Mikasa said with a quiet laugh. “He never asked me to come.”

“What a fucking idiot.”

Mikasa blinked in surprise. “I’m not mad at him, Jean. You don’t need to be in my behalf.”

“I’m not mad on your behalf,” Jean said, shaking his head, a deep crease forming between his eyebrows, feeling all of that frustration he’d had towards Eren in high school come back in full. “What kind of idiot do you have to be to break the heart of someone like you?”

“Someone like me?”

“You’re fucking amazing!” Jean said, shocked by the confusion in her face. “Mikasa, you’re gorgeous, smart, strong. You can lift a whole hundred pounds without breaking a sweat…who would want to break your heart?”

Another chuckle escaped her throat, and she gave him a look that he could only describe a sweet. “Thank you,” she said, tilting her head to the side. “My heart was breaking the whole last year we were together, though. I guess in a way, him leaving helped me heal.”

“I hope he falls into a pit.” Jean muttered, then shook his head. “No, I hope I fall into a pit, for not noticing you were hurting before.”

“You had your thing with Marco moving away,” Mikasa replied. “If anything, I was the jerk for not helping you like Connie and Sasha did. I was too focused on trying to force Eren to be happy with me.”

“Still, I should’ve helped.”

“You’re helping now,” Mikasa replied, lifting her pierced eyebrow. “You’re letting me be your roommate, aren’t you?”

Jean took a deep gulp of his beer before speaking. “So, you are taking up on my offer?”

“Yes,” Mikasa said, setting her eyes on the section of town in which he lived in. “If you take up on my offer.”

“Which is?”

“The agency wants a couple male models,” she said, elbowing him playfully. “I heard from Sasha how you’re killing yourself at that part time. This money won’t be great, I do warn you, but it will be better, and you’ll have more time to study.”

The color traveled to his cheeks yet again. “I-I’m not a model, Mikasa.”

“No need to be modest, Kirstein,” she said, scrutinizing him again, her gaze sensing a shock of electricity across him. “I saw you on that beach trip we did. You’ve got nothing to envy from the models.”

They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity, and Jean’s mind became a storm. Had she just told him she found him attractive? No, it couldn’t be. She’d just said he had nothing to envy from male models. But that was just a creative way to call someone hot, wasn’t it? She had no reasons to call him hot, however.

“Jean, I think—”

“Niccolo!” Sasha’s shouted drunkenly, startling the two in their seats. It wasn’t until they turned in her direction that Jean realized how close their faces had been to each other.

“Alright, alright. Do it again.” Niccolo laughed, sounding quite drunk himself. Sasha grabbed her shirt and tightened it around her waist, showing him her bloated stomach.

Niccolo giggled. “It’s adorable! It does look like you’re pregnant,” he said between snorts. “How many garlic buns did you eat back there?”

“Why are you calling your baby a garlic knot, Niccolo?!” Sasha half-laughed, half cried, only causing Niccolo to laugh harder. They were soon on the floor, struggling to catch their breath because of their laughter, and Jean was grateful for the protective mesh at the edge of the balcony.

“They’re drunk.”

“They’re high.” Mikasa said, casting a glance inside. “Ymir and Historia are here.”

“No wonder they’re high.” Jean chuckled. Historia wore a beautiful pink dress, looking as happy as ever with Ymir’s hands around her waist. Ymir, as always, wore a dark suit. As always, she was more focused on kissing Historia’s neck than the conversation around her. They’d been inseparable since their wedding, and from the sparkling necklace around Historia’s neck, Jean supposed their business was growing well.

Mikasa grabbed his sleeve. “Do you want to go get some?”

“You smoke that stuff?” Jean asked, wondering when he’d smoked anything last.

“Not really.” Mikasa admitted, looking at Sasha laughing on the floor while placing a thousand drunken kisses on Niccolo’s forehead. “It looks like they’re having fun, though.”

“We could do it to celebrate,” Jean said, shrugging. “You know, each of just found a good roommate and we might not be as broke from now on.”

“You are sure about the roommate matter?” Mikasa asked, frowning. “You’ll have to take a few visits from my uncle.”

“I’ll cope.” Jean said, looking at Niccolo and Sasha. “Are you sure? What if Eren returns and gets mad?”

Mikasa rolled her eyes. “He can get as mad as he wants. I won’t care.” She said, and from her tone of voice , Jean knew she was done talking about Eren for the time being. She looked more annoyed at the inconveniences that Eren had caused her than heart broken. Perhaps, the exhaustion had forced her to get over a heartbreak quick, as well.

Jean offered her his hand. “Shall we, my lady?”

“You’re still an idiot,” Mikasa said, intertwining her arm with his. “Thank you, by the way.”

“No, thank you,” he said, using his other hand to take their bottles. He offered one to her and lifted his own. “Toast? For roommates?”

“For roommates.” Mikasa said. Their bottles clang together, their sound foretelling a change of wind for the two, perhaps.

______________________

Gabi walked along the bookstore holding onto Falco’s arm. She and her mother spent summers with her cousin Reiner in the island. And despite this being her fifth year visiting him and despite the luxuries of his apartment, she missed him terribly each time she left. So, she clung to him before and after her journeys, enjoying their time together as if it were a treasure.

“Want to get an ice cream afterwards?” He asked.

“The place by the zeppelin museum?” Falco nodded in response, and Gabi smiled widely. “Alright, then. But it’s my treat this time.”

“Let me buy the comic books this time, at least,” he said, pulling out a book with a few giants on the cover. “This looks good, doesn’t it?”

Gabi frowned at the sight of the naked giants. “I hate historical fiction.”

“It’s not like titans were real, Gabi,” Falco said, running through the pages. “This is mostly political-oriented. See? They even consulted a historian from Paradis to write it.”

“Hey, I know her!” Gabi said excitedly, looking at the picture of the main consultant from the work. “She’s the head of the anthropology museum at the island. She’s Reiner’s friend.”

“Is she?” Falco said, his eyes wide as he stared at the picture of Mikasa, who wore a fancy pantsuit and had her hair up in a ponytail. Unlike at the parties, her make up in this was formal, no bright pink lipstick, no dark eyeshadow. “She’s really pretty, isn’t she?”

“Falco!” Gabi said, then took a second look at the picture. “You’re right, she’s really pretty. Her husband is a lucky guy. He always says it himself.”

“Oh, she’s married?”

“Yeah, she married a friend of hers, I think. It was a late spring wedding, so I didn’t get to go. They’ve got a baby on the way and everything,” Gabi said, scrunching up her nose. “He’s friends with Reiner too, but I can’t recall the guy’s name.”

“Gabi, you see those people every summer,” Falco said, his kind face showing a slight hint of repeoach. “You should at least learn their names.”

“Reiner has way too many friends for me to remember,” Gabi replied, not wanting to admit that she did need to be a little more polite to them. “I do remember he had a bit of a horse face.”

“A horse face?” Falco said, horrified. “This woman here married a guy with a horse face?”

Gabi smiled amusedly. “She seemed quite smitten by him. Every time I go and they’re there, they’re always all lovey dovey. Kissing, hugging, they can’t keep their hands off each other,” she said, tilting her head to the side with a flirty smile. “Besides, it was just a nickname. The man is handsome, and taller than most guys, too.”

“Gabi, don’t talk so kindly about married men.” Falco said, closing the magazine with his cheeks flushed. Although his expression caused her own smile to grow wider.

“Are you jealous?” She teased, then placed a fleeting peck on his lips. “You’re way more handsome than horse face. And, you still have more years to grow. I’m sure that you’ll be taller than him by when we get married.”

“Gabi!” Falco said, flushing harder.

[anystalker707]

It’s not going to be alright

Pairing: Gerard x Reader Word count: ~ 2 300 Genre: Angst, fluff, comfort TW: Anxiety attack, sort of Summary: (Y/n) brings Gerard to meet their parents. It doesn’t go as well as expected. Requested by @thegnotecannothurtusanymore​ a/n: I hope this is what you wanted and that you like it

"Do I look fine?" Gerard still sounds insecure as he stands in front of the mirror, adjusting his jacket lightly while also checking his hair and makeup, turning his head from side to side slowly a few times. He repeatedly runs his fingers through his hair, a sharp sigh escaping his nose.

"Of course, you always do," I say with a smile, standing behind him and observing him through the mirror. "C'mon, you don't need to be so nervous. I don't even care if they don't like or approve you, this is just because they're curious about you." Wrapping my hands around his wrists, I pull his hands away from himself in an attempt of helping Gerard with calming down. He's already perfect.

"But... Still, what if they try to separate us?" To say Gerard is worried is a euphemism.

I push Gerard to sit down on his bed and place my hands on his shoulders. "Listen, they're just my parents, not me. It doesn't matter whether they like you or not. They can't control me the whole time. We can, dunno, run away if we need to, don't worry about it!" I smile in an attempt of cheering him up and it seems to work.

Gerard noticeably relaxes under my touch. He wraps his arms around me and brings me closer, his head against my abdomen.

"It's going to be alright, Gee," I tell him softly as playing with his hair. He nods hesitantly.

We've been together for around a year now and, from hearing so much about me having a boyfriend and never seeing him, my parents decided that I should bring him home for dinner. Gerard almost freaked out because of it at first, something I completely don't judge him for. He was desperate about finding formal clothes for the dinner, but I told him to dress... like himself, just a kinda formal due to the occasion, but not completely. There would be no point for him to dress up in something he is uncomfortable with and to pretend to be someone he isn't just for my parents. If they're going to accept him, they must accept him the way he is and the way I love him.

Not to mention that we wouldn't be able to sustain a lie for too long. It's relatively easy hearing rumors about Gerard – after all, there aren't many other punk kids in the city. Also, if they hypothetically liked him like that and called him over for dinner more often, it would be an even harder thing to maintain. He can't hide all the scars or wounds all the time neither lie about some of them.

"What time is it? Maybe we should get going," Gerard says as he reaches for his phone and checks on it without letting me move away. "Yeah, we should," he answers himself and looks up at me, smiling a bit.

Soon, we are in my car and heading over to my place. I had come over to help him with getting ready and just to make sure he wouldn't mess up with anything because of getting too anxious.

"It's going to be alright," I repeat myself before we leave the car. Gerard does his best to smile in response while nodding. We leave the car and move to the front door, where I reassure him once again by giving his hand a light squeeze then I walk in. "Hey, we've arrived," I call to my parents as Gerard closes the door behind us.

"We're over here in the dining room, dear," my mother's voice comes from the said place.

The table is nicely set, the trays and pans filled with food we usually just eat on Sundays or certain occasions, what makes me smile at the same time I see it. Gerard seems just as pleased, an also appreciative air over his features as he looks at everything, cheeks growing red when his eyes meet mine.

When I look at my parents, however, their reaction isn't in any way pleasing. They look at Gerard like if they were expecting gold, but were just given a cheap copy instead or something completely different.

"Um," Gerard breaks the tense silence, seeming to not really have noticed my parents' reaction. "I'm Gerard, Gerard Way. It's nice to finally meet you." He smiles, looking at the two with nervous eyes. Well, now he's noticed it.

"Oh, so you're Gerard." The word sounds bitter coming from my father. He looks away, lips pursed and he doesn't make any effort in hiding his light displeasure. My mother takes the same path, a clearly forced smile decorating her lips as she slowly nods, drowning the room in awkwardness. I hate her for it. I mean, they don't even know Gerard yet.

A sigh escapes my lips as I just pull on Gerard's hand for him to sit down already as I do so myself, concluding my parents won't tell us to do it. Annoying. My parents do the same.

"Okay, so... Gerard," my mother speaks up first while everyone is serving themselves. He hums questioningly, smiling a bit. She continues. "Do you work? Do you do anything besides studying?"

"I actually don't need to work," Gerard replies, pushing his chair closer to the table after taking all the food he wanted. "I draw a lot in my free time and I've been trying to publish a comic."

Approval? No. The same displeasure shows itself on their faces, poorly hidden by fake smiles.

"Oh, that's... interesting," my mother breathes a chuckle, looking down at her food. Her chuckle sounds more of a 'look at how stupid he is' thing. Okay, okay, maybe I'm imagining things, right...? Let me avert my attention away from it.

"Gerard is excellent at drawing." I smile proudly and share a look with Gerard, who seems more relieved with my comment.

My mother makes an unconvinced face, but she doesn't have the opportunity to continue talking because my father speaks up next. "And you're off school soon, right? Have you already applied for any college?" He seems a bit more friendly than my mother, something I believe to be a brief impression due to how he's barely talked until now.

"Yeah, I've been accepted in the school of visual arts in NY," Gerard breathes with a proud air, already concluding how tiring it's all gonna be. In a social battery sense. The two will probably question Gerard until he walks out that door. It's going to be exhausting.

"Arts?" More reproval. My father raises his eyebrows amused after Gerard nods and my mother holds back a sigh, moving to sip on her glass of soda like if she can't handle it all. "That's peculiar, certainly. Something really difficult to get a future in, isn't it?" He says in clear mocking and looks at my mother. Look at this fool; I can practically hear them thinking. I don't know if it makes me angry or sad or both. Honestly, I already predicted things weren't going to turn out well, but this is just terrible.

"Like if Gerard would ever fail in anything while he's got so many talents like that," I roll my eyes. My comment goes ignored apart from how Gerard blushes and grins.

"Oh, but I've got a band in case anything goes wrong!" Gerard shrugs in a sudden wave of confidence.

"His band is awesome," I add. Ignored. Hah.

"A band!" A laughter comes from my father and my mother follows suit. They spend a moment laughing, but reality seems to hit them again before the fact Gerard and I remained in silent, both of us observing them in disbelief.

My mother shakes her head in dismissal as covering her mouth for a moment – at least making an effort, what seemed to be too hard to my father. "Erm, that's wonderful! Wonderful," she says.

A sigh escaped my lips at the thought I'll probably pull Gerard out of here myself soon if things continue like that.

Thankfully, some minutes into the dinner, we've got some peace, but all the evil comments and mocking continue right after. Sometimes my parents do apologize. Not genuinely, tho. For real, I feel like it would've been easier if they just got angry and kicked us out as soon as seeing Gerard or something instead of opting for psychological torture. I'm feeling attacked myself.

The dinner being over almost feels like a miracle to me – I quickly stand up from my chair and pull Gerard along with me.

"So, I'll be heading to Gerard's tonight. I'm spending the night at his place, like I promised," I say as giving his hand a light squeeze, running my thumb over his knuckles softly.

He seems really uncomfortable.

"Oh, you are?" My mother sighs, shaking her head to herself. "Okay then, just remember to come home. Love you, dear, see you," she says to me before she takes a good look at Gerard, then walks away to the kitchen with the dirty dishes in hands, not even bothering to tell him a goodbye or anything.

"Goodbye..." I mutter, starting to walk.

"G-Goodbye, Mr. and Mrs. (l/n)! Thanks for the food and for receiving me," Gerard calls, the nervousness starting to show when we're about to leave the house. If I were him, I wouldn't even have said anything.

Feeling the cold night air embracing me is extremely relieving. Being away from the two is relieving. I'm still revolted about everything that has happened; it wasn't kind at all. I look at Gerard, worried. "Are you alright, love?"

"Yeah, sugar, don't worry," he reassures me. His words sound empty. I don't question.

Gerard tries to keep the tough posture until when we arrive to his place and we're already in comfortable clothes, lazing around on his bed. He's clearly not fine – you can notice it through how he acts, his glassy eyes, difficulty on keeping his focus... We will talk about it whenever he is ready.

At some point, my phone starts ringing. My mother. I sigh.

"I'll be right back, Gee, my mom's calling." I press a kiss to his cheek then leave the room and the house, heading to the back porch. It will be uncomfortable having anyone else listening to this while Mikey and Donna are also so nice to me.

"(Y/n)," the angry tone comes from the other end of the line as soon as I answer the call. "That boy is terrible. I'm sure you've noticed how we didn't enjoy him any bit. He's stupid, he's just got no future. You deserve something better, my love," her voice softens. "We just let you go over to his place because it would be impolite to not to after everything."

Ah, there it is. The hypocrisy.

"Well, and I'm sure you've noticed that I don't care about what you two think. You liked Gerard and everything I told you about him until you saw him. That's stupid. You guys didn't even allow yourselves to get to know him properly and already got like that." No, I've got no patience to deal with this. I groan to myself as leaning against the railing and observing what I can see of the back garden.

"We know that kind of people, okay? Trust us, you're not gonna-"

I hang up. And set my phone in the do not disturb mode. I'm not listening to bullshit about Gerard while he's so sweet and loving and...

Putting my phone away, I rub my face and try to get rid of the stress before walking back in.

Gerard is startled by me walking into the bedroom suddenly, eyes widening once they land on me while I close the door. It looks like he's been crying; eyes puffy and red, makeup smudged. "(Y/n)," he cries, reaching his arms towards me as I approach, "don't leave me, oh God, I love you so much. Without you I can't-" He interrupts himself with a sob, starting to cry again.

"I'm not going to leave you!" I sit beside him, pulling Gerard for a hug. I wipe his tears away before pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I would never, I've told you! Their opinion about you isn't relevant to me! They don't know you like I do! I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that."

"Sorry," he sobs against my neck, arms wrapped tightly around me like if I would disappear if he let go. "I wish I was different, damn, I'm sorry."

It's always terrible when Gerard's anxiety attacks, but things seem to be going way worse now and I curse my parents for it. They had literally no reasons to have acted the way they did. Even if they dislike Gerard, everyone must be respected. Seeing Gerard like this hurts.

"You have nothing to apologize for," I rub soft circles into his back as continuing to hold him close, doing it for a few moments in an attempt of getting him to calm down. "Gee, Gerard, listen to me," I say once he's calmed down a bit and take a gentle hold of his face, making him look at me. "All that matters is us and nothing more. I don't care if my parents don't approve of our relationship or if the world does, I just care about us, if we are fine. And, of course, if you are fine. I hated that you needed to go through all of this, I'm so sorry." I press a kiss to his cheek, starting to run my fingers through his hair.

"Don't apologize, it wasn't your fault," Gerard says softly. He is silent for a moment before the tears start again and he buries his face in the crook of my neck again, clutching onto me tightly.

"Let it all out, Gee, it'll help you." I comfort him, pressing kisses to his neck and going back to rubbing his back. "I love you, okay? And that's all that matters."

[mmvalentine]

The Pianist pt 8 | Jurdan

Modern AU. Part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 9

Jude got home in the early hours of the morning and fell straight into bed.

It had been a whirlwind trip of meet and greets, recording demos, being passed from arm to arm and singing until her throat hurt. Bryern had paid for her accommodation, but the flights were more than she had expected, and she ended up having to buy new clothes while she was there. Especially since she was supposed to meet important people and look the part. Jude just hoped it had all been worth it.

Bryern had gotten her to sing for a number of producers, and they were so positive about her that Bryern made her his official project and dragged her around LA introducing her to everyone he knew. She barely slept, he told her not to eat while they were networking, and the alcohol they kept shoving into her hands made her head spin.

Of course, she had not anticipated being away for so long and had to make profuse apologies to all her workplaces. Java Island stood by their 'making of a celebrity' plan, but both the pub and the diner let her go. Jude had no idea how she was going to keep her apartment, but there was no point backing out now.

The truth was, Jude didn't mind this. Didn't mind any of it, not the sleepless nights or the being 'on' all the time or the being fawned over by strangers. In some ways it was tiring but in other ways it was exhilarating, and the more Jude tasted this life the hungrier she was for it. And although she knew she couldn't run on adrenaline forever, she thought she could very well do this life, if only she was let in.

So the weeks went by, and by the time she went home she had agreed for Bryern to officially be her agent, recorded five songs, and had three producers in negotiation with Bryern about a possible record deal down the track. He was optimistic, and she was exhausted.

Jude woke in her own bed hours later, and although the last few weeks were exciting, it was very good to be home and back to real life. Now she just had to pick up the pieces and hope the adventure had not cost her too much.

Jude groaned, dragged herself into the shower, and then took stock of the damage.

She was a week in rental arrears.

She had lost two of three jobs.

She now owed Cardan a grand total of $1, 436.

Jude flicked through the stack of letters by the door, adding her latest power bill to the growing tally of expenses.

And there in the pile was a card that had her name in curling cursive.

Jude Duarte, you are cordially invited to the fall showcase for the Juilliard school of music.

Jude stared at the invitation for some time, before realising that the date was today and the start time was in twenty minutes.

She threw on the black dress that was hanging over a chair nearby, bundled her hair up with a clip, and shoved her feet into a pair of shoes she had bought in LA. After everything Cardan had done for her, there was no way she could miss his showcase.

It took Jude an agonisingly long time to find the right hall, and by the time she got there the concert had already started. Jude slipped in the back of what was a small but plush theatre, with red seats and wood paneling that she supposed was good for acoustics.

There were twenty-odd musicians that all seemed to be more and more Nicasias and Lockes, and although they were all beautiful and talented, Jude itched to fast-foward the night until Cardan played.

Cardan. How odd that the first time she was seeing him after three weeks, he wouldn't even know she was there.

An hour and a half later, he was being announced. The darling of his cohort, Cardan was the closing act, and the man in the suit was telling the audience this was something Cardan had written himself. Jude shuffled in her seat, and leaned forward in rapt anticipation as he sat down at the piano stool and moved his neck as if getting comfortable. In her peripheral vision, Jude noticed others in the same posture as her.

It was not so much that Jude had forgotten Cardan's reputation. It was more that she had been so bent on hating him for so long that his being 'talented' just added to her irritation. He always seemed to get special treatment because of it and there was nothing she despised more.

Then she had been focusing on her own musical career, and was just now thinking that she couldn't even remember what his playing sounded like. Wasn't sure if she had ever actually just listened to him, or heard something he had written himself.

And then Cardan started to play.

Jude wasn't sure what she was expecting. Something technical, something impressively fast and vaguely furious. Something like the racket that kept her up all hours of the night.

But that wasn't what Cardan had written.

Cardan played soft, and languid, and sweet. She found herself leaning her chin on her hands against the back of the seat in front of her, and wondering if this is what Cardan's soul really looked like or if this was just some kind of clever trick he knew.

The audience was so silent, and design of the hall was so well made that the piano may as well have been right by Jude's side. She wondered where this song had come from, and how she had never, never heard anything like this coming from the upstairs apartment.

And then the sound changed and it was somehow familiar, like the had known this song her whole life.

Jude sat up, and her eyes went wide in the dark concert hall.

She did know this song. This was her mother's lullaby.

///////

Cardan had been allocated two invitations like everyone else. His parents had already announced they were coming so he sent one off to them because he knew they would manage to get their names on the list regardless. And then he turned the other one around in his hands for a good fifteen minutes before sliding it under Jude's door along with the handful of other white envelopes.

Jude had been gone for weeks and he didn't expect her to be back in time. Didn't expect she would come even if she was back- but then again, who else was he going to give it to?

Cardan had always planned to play his own composition on the night, although writing it was harder than expected due to the hasty return of his insomnia. In the end, what else could he write but Jude's song? The memory of it taunted him day and night, crystal clear in his head but out of reach for his ears.

So he played it, over and over trying to recreate the effect that Jude's voice had on him. And while it didn't help him sleep, it did morph over time into the only song he could manage while so sleep-deprived he was seeing things.

Which brought him to today. In the concert hall, with his parents and teachers in the front row, and the people who used to be his friends sitting somewhere to the lift and sniggering to themselves. Cardan didn't care. He just played, and to him it sounded like Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude, Jude.

This was not what had been expected of him today, and he knew that. It was not the usual style of his compositions, not what usually got him such high praise from the heads of department. But Cardan quite liked this song.

When he finished, the audience was silent. Then he stood and bowed, and realised that people were crying, and only then did they start to applaud, and even stand to their feet. Cardan grimaced, never being fully comfortable with this sort of thing, and nodded again before making his way off stage. The Head of Music was back on stage and speaking about... something, Cardan wasn't really paying attention, and he could see Nicasia and the others waving to him like they might try to talk to him. And then there were his parents, whispering to each other while watching the speech.

But Cardan didn't want to see any of them. Really just wanted to slip out of the hall before they had a chance to catch him, before faculty members or student journalists or anyone else cornered him and made him talk. So he snuck through the curtains, through a side door and up the side of the hall in the deep shadows while the Head of Music droned on. All the way to the back of the hall, because even though he had not looked out into the audience for long, he had stood there long enough to make out the important faces.

And the hall was small enough that he could see who was sitting in the back row.

It was small enough that he could see Jude.

****

As you can see I have no idea how anything actually works at Juilliard, I just started using it for the prestige of the name and then derailed into my own universe sorry if anyone actually has been there and knows how bullshit this all is 😂

JURDAN MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @asteria-of-mars @swankii-art-teacher @loosingdreams @feysand-loml @cityofbookish @story-scribbler @thebonecarver @realbookloverproblems

[seeker-of-the-stars]

Okay, this is the most important request of all - what if, somehow, some bots ended up in YOUR house? You, as in, the one writing all these awesome drabbles.

"Annnnd done," I laid back in bed with my hands behind my head, staring at my computer screen and reading over the drabble I just finished. It was a simple request; one where Starscream and Knock Out went out on a date and confessed their love to one another.

"Starscream, I just wanted to say... I love you. I loved you from the very beginning. Nothing gets my engine running like your gorgeous finish."

"Oh Knock Out," Starscream blushed. "I've been waiting so long to hear you say that. I ask, no, I beg for you to take me right here and now under the stars."

"But what if Megatron should catch us?"

"Shh," Starscream put a digit to his lips. "You let me worry about that, my love."

"Yes, this is definitely one of my best stories so far," I said to myself, smiling. "I can't wait for everyone to read it."

As I was basking in the brilliance of my masterfully written fanfic, I heard a loud ripping noise above me.

"What the hell-" I screamed as I looked up and saw the face of none other than Knock Out, who had just ripped the ceiling off of my apartment. Ignoring my cries of shock, the red medic reached down and picked me up, holding me up to his face.

"Ugh, how are you fleshies so loud? Such small bodies shouldn't be capable of making so much noise."

"You're... Y-You're-"

"Yes, yes, I'm Knock Out, medic extraordinaire and the most gorgeous face to ever grace your backwater planet. But you already knew all that, didn't you?"

"You... giant robot... my house..."

"You are capable of speaking more than two words at a time, I hope? If not, then this was a huge waste of my time, and I do not appreciate my time being wasted." He narrowed his optic ridges, causing me to gulp.

"S-Sorry," I apologized. "What do you want with me?"

"You're seeker of the stars on Tumblr, correct?"

"Yes, but what does that have to do with-" I instantly turned red, thinking of all the stories I've written along with all the times I had thirsted over the bot in front of me.

"Oh no."

"Oh yes," an evil grin appeared on Knock Out's face. "Me and a few of my friends want to have a little chat with you about your content. Let's go meet them, shall we?"

"Look, I don't know what you saw, but-"

"Save it. You'll have plenty of time to talk about your depravities with the Autobots."

***

"Knock Out," Ratchet rubbed the space between his optics. "How many times do we have to tell you not to kidnap humans?"

"Hey, you don't know what she wrote! She writes stories about me dating Starscream of all people, it's pure slander! Look at this slag she was writing when I found her!" He handed Ratchet the tiny laptop in the palm of his servo.

"Hey! It's called fanfiction and it is art!" I defended. A second too late, I realized what Knock Out had given Ratchet, and my heart stopped.

"...Which you absolutely shouldn't read." I tried to wiggle out of Knock Out's grasp and reach for my laptop. "Give it back! I don't go through your stuff, do I?"

"No, you just write about our romantic lives and post them for strangers to read online instead," Knock Out quipped.

Ratchet squinted at the too small screen. "Ugh, this is hurting my optics, let me put it up on the main computer."

"Wait, you don't have to do that-"

A moment later, my story was up on a screen over two stories tall, for all optics in the room to see.

"Oh god," I groaned as both bots read over the fic.

"Well, this is... certainly something," Ratchet said. "Humans do come up with the strangest things."

"There's a few stories about you and Wheeljack on her blog too. Here, let me show you."

"Why do you hate me?" I glared at Knock Out.

"Because I don't like fleshies writing about me doing... things with my mortal enemies."

"Hey guys, what's going on? And who's the human?"

"Wheeljack!" Knock Out said, turning toward the newcomer. "Come in, mon ami. This human here has written some interesting things about you and Ratchet and she would love to show you them."

"No I wouldn't!"

"No she doesn't!" Ratchet said.

"Written things, huh? Is she some kind of undercover reporter trying to expose us?"

"See for yourself," Knock Out smirked.

"It's fine, Wheeljack." Ratchet said, standing in front of the screen. "Just kids goofing around, nothing you need to worry about."

"Hey, I'm in my twenties!"

Ratchet shot me a glare. "Do I look like I care?"

"C'mon Doc, just show me the damn thing."

Ratchet sighed. "Fine, but if you speak a word about it to anyone, I will take away your lab privileges."

"As if that's ever stopped me," Wheeljack chuckled. He stopped as his optics scanned over the words, barely raising his optic ridges.

"Well, I don't see what all the fuss is about," he said. "Unless you're afraid that people will start to think that you have a crush on me."

"I absolutely do not have a "crush" on you! What do you think I am, some school bot?"

"I think we all know you haven't been a school bot since the Predacons roamed Cybertron."

"I hate you," Ratchet groaned. "I hate all of you."

"What should we do about the human?" Knock Out asked. "I vote that we squish her like a bug."

"Wow, rude," I glared up at him.

"Knock Out shut up," Ratched sighed. "Wheeljack, take her home. We really don't need abduction charges on our heads and I don't trust this one to take her back in one peace."

"There's one problem with that," I said. "Knock Out kind of tore the roof off of my apartment."

"You what?!" Ratchet turned on the red medic.

"Well, how else was I supposed to get to her? Walk through the front door?"

"No, you're not supposed to kidnap people in the first place!" Ratchet turned to me with exhaustion in his optics. "You can stay with us until your apartment is fixed. Just as long as you let any family members and friends you have know that you are not being held against your will and that there's no reason to involve the police."

I grinned at the Autobot medic. "So, what you're saying is... we're having a sleepover?"

"... if you want to put it that way, then fine."

I grinned, a bubble of excitement welling up in me. "This is officially, the best day of my life."