#ask box is empty pls feed me

[gojo-mochi]

Monster trio meeting the girl of their dreams but turns out they are a marine

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Have a great day<3

Prompt: Monster trio meeting the girl of their dreams but turns out they are a marine.

A/N: First time at angst! WOOO (ง ื▿ ื)ว I kinda went overboard with this one…. So it took kinda long aha, Hope you enjoy tho anon if you’re still here!

Content Warning: Fem!reader, Angst, Mild blood, Reader is a new marine fresh out of training, Reader is all slightly different in each head canon since each person’s dream girl wouldn’t be the same, hurt/ no comfort.

Not Proofread

Word Count: 5.4K

Luffy:

First Meeting:

You were on your first job, patrolling around the island to catch any criminals or report any bad deeds. With rifle clutched in hand, you practiced your stomping routine all-thru out the day, eyes darting around to scan the whole area. That was when you came across a boy? Or a young man  now that you glance over his ahem nice build, passed out in a alleyway. You immediately rush over to him, kneeling down and lifting up his head and checking for any obvious wounds or blood.

“Foo-food….so hungry..”

You heard him faintly groan out, followed by a loud stomach rumble. ‘Poor thing must not had eaten in a while..’ You pondered looking at his thin frame. You gently rest his head on your lap while you pull out your lunch bag. As soon as the stranger heard the sound of your bento opening, his eyes shot open, drooling pooling out of his mouth. You stifled a giggle at the sight, taking a pair of chopsticks and picking up one of the fried chicken you made for lunch. Offering it to the strange man, his lips seem to ‘stretch’ out and enveloped the whole chicken piece in a flash.

“Mm... yummy!”

You didn’t think more on that strange moment when the man urgently asked for more by making grabby hands motion and pouting out his lips. You couldn’t back your giggles at this point, once again picking up your chopsticks to hand feed this man. Soon, your whole lunch box was emptied and the man leans up, carefully positioning his straw-hat on top of his head. ‘That looked oddly familiar to me but why..’ Your thoughts get broken though as the strange man loudly smacks his lips together and turns to give you a thumbs up with a wide smile. “The meal tasted amazing! Almost as good as Sanji’s cooking!”

You blush a bit at his compliments, you always cooked for yourself so hearing someone saying that they enjoyed you’re cooking was new… and pleasant. “Ah! I forget to introduce myself.” You got up and dust off your pants, it was a new Marine Uniform they were testing out so you hate to get it dirty so quickly. “My name is y/n, may I asked for yours?” You reach out our hand in your introduction and the man’s hands quickly came to hold them.

‘Warm…’ You thought silently.

“Luffy!” He shakes your hand up and down rapidly, “You’re really pretty and nice by the way! You should come meet my crew! I’ll have Sanji cook something as a Thank You for giving me your lunch!” He spoke out in quick succession, not giving you time to respond back. Though you can feel your face heating up at hearing him call you ‘pretty’. “Oh right! I was supposed to meet up with my crew somewhere! I need to run now but see me later, yeah?!” You could only stare at his back as he starts to rush off somewhere.

Luffy’s POV

‘That food was so yummy! And the lady was so nice and pretty and wow!’ Luffy’s thoughts usually went a mile a min, especially now expect it was all about you. He couldn’t wait to tell his Nakamas about what happened today. He thought about how soft your lap was to rest on, how he enjoyed every single bite of food you gave him, how even more delicious the food was when it was coming from your hands. He had a skip in his steps as he ran around the island looking for any signs of his crew, ‘I hope y/n likes Sanji’s cooking! Maybe so much that she’ll even join us!’

A/N: Luffy not the type to fall in love in first sight, so idk how to exactly write out him meeting his dream girl other than this  ｡･ﾟ･(ﾉД`)ヽ

Second Meeting:

You were alerted by your Commander about a group of pirates causing havoc near the docks. You dash to the dock ready to deal damage to these Pirates. ‘How dare they! Terrorizing a small island like this one!’ You thought angrily as you get closer to your destination. You soon come across a giant blue haired robot person? And a green haired man wielding three swords. Your allies were being slashed down right in front of you. You brought out your rifle and took aim at the pirates ready to fire at a moment notice.

When you noticed a certain straw hat jumping over everyone. Your heart was thumping, blood rushing to your head as you screamed out; “Luffy!?”

Luffy turned to look at you in midair and grinned wide, stretching his arms impossibly long to where you were. He crash land in front of you with a loud ‘thud’. “Y/N! You made it!” He yelled near your ears excitedly, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. You get shoved him off and point your rifle at him with shaking hands. He gives you a sad puppy eyed look. “What’s wrong?” He tilts his head in a way that almost makes you stumble in your step. But you hold fast; “What’s wrong?! What’s wrong is that you are damn Pirate!”

You raise up your rifle again in fury. Did he not know that you were a Marine this whole time? …No, he must had known and pretended to be sick so you lowered your guard down or something, after all, all pirates are the same. You blink away the tears in your eyes, the expression on Luffy’s face almost tricked you into believing that he was clueless in all of this. “Surrender now! Or else I will use this!”

You get slammed by a reindeer or some sort of reindeer liked monster. Your back hits the ground with a hard “Oof.” Escaping your lips, through bleary eyes you can barely see Luffy reaching out for you before he was pulled away by that swordman. Another Marine goes to help you back up, you wince at seeing how your forearms were all scratched and bleeding now. With only rage fueling your voice you scream as the Pirate’s ship was getting ready to sail away. “This isn’t over Luffy! You’re dead to me!”

Luffy’s POV

The Sunny was sailing away and everyone on the ship was safe and accounted for. They made off with bags of food as well. Sanji even said he was making a feast tonight. So why did Luffy feel so sad… He only known for a couple of mins but those memories kept replaying in his head. Your warmth and your kindness, it was replaced with the vision of you screaming out and on the ground bruised.

His crewmates were quick to noticed Luffy’s new attitude, him slumped over on the railing just looking at the island as it fades out of view. When anyone came up to ask, Luffy didn’t give them a answer on why he was feeling this way, he just was. He hoped that the next time you guys end up meeting that it would turn out better but the bitter feeling in the back of his mind told him that you wanted him dead. Why did you have to turn out to be a Marine… he then wondered if he could change your mind and turn you into a pirate instead.

With that new plan in mind, he cheered up a bit and went to bother Sanji about when dinner was ready. He kept rubbing at his chest the whole day though, trying to suppress the ache he felt inside.

Zoro:

First Meeting:

You were cursing your way into shelter as the rain poured down on you. Keeping your sword close to your body as you huddled underneath a tree. ‘Damn it, of course it would rain as soon as I finished with my sword training for the day.’ You cursed silently, wringing out the sleeves on your robe. You always switch out of your usual Marine’s uniform when training but now you’re began to regret that choice. The Marine’s uniform were waterproof to a degree, given how much of your work was out on the sea.

You huff out, rolling your eyes to the dark overcast, flipping it off like it would make any sort of difference. You heard a snort coming off from the left. You jump up a bit in shock, glad that you’re commander wasn’t here to see you be so careless enough not to notice another presence near you. You glare at the new person, not out of any hatred, just annoyance. Why were you even annoyed at this person? You don’t really have an answer for that…

You take a good look at the stranger, he have oddly colored green hair, a scar over his eye, and three swords hung by the side of his hip. He sends over a small smirk when he catches you staring for too long at his open chest. “A picture would last longer, you know?” He taunted with a slight tilt of his head. You feel a fierce blush coming up and you tore your eyes away from watching the rain droplets go down on his admittedly nice abs. You faked a cough and straighten your shoulders out.

“I was just making sure you weren’t a threat or anything like that.” You grunted out. You blush even more when the stranger gave you a toothy smirk in response as he hums. The hums almost came out as growl from how deep it sounded. “So, do you still think I am threat then little missy?” His grey eyes now scanning over your body. Your hands itches towards your sword but you stop yourself.

“I’m Y/N, and I’m…” You took a small pause, “I’m sigh sorry about before, thinking you were a threat and all that.” You did feel bad for glaring at him for no reason, after all he didn’t do anything to deserve it. The man shifted his position, letting his robe fall open, exposing even more of his tanned skin and scarred muscles. “Tis’ fine, it’s not like I blame you for staring.” Oh, alright, now you don’t feel bad for glaring at him.

“I was-wasn’t staring!” You quickly snapped back, which cause the still unnamed man to barked out a laugh. You start to grind your teeth, ‘Fuck him and his stupid attractive laugh too.’ You thought as you turn to find shelter elsewhere. You felt a tug as the man grabbed on to your wrist and pulled you back.

“Hey! Wait! I uh fuck.” He lets you go. “Look, I didn’t mean to upset you alright. So don’t leave ok?” His voice sounded a bit softer than before. When you turned around, you catch sight of a small blush painting over his face. It made your heart skip a beat. You shuffles back to your spot, next to the man, letting your shoulder bump against his tall frame. “I didn’t know that you wanted me back that badly.” You jested, feeling off the warm feeling crawling up.

You heard another snort come off the man, and then the warmth of his broad hand coming to ruffle your hair. He didn’t say anything in return though, just letting the pitter patter of the raindrops wash over you two. It took a while and some brushing of hands and fake coughing for one of you to speak up again. “So.. what type of sword style do you use?” The man grunted and looked over to the sword by your hip. You drummed your fingers on the hilt of your blade nervously at his intense gaze.

“I came from a place called Mount Hua, and I was taught the Plum Blossom sword technique there.” You tilt your head back to glance as his expression. Most people would scoff when they see a woman with a sword so you wonder how he’s reacting. It catches you by surprise to see him so intrigued by your words. “Could you show me once this damn rain goes away?”

He sounded serious about it, not like all the others who taunted or mocked your style. ‘Plum Blossom style? Heh! Sounds girly enough for a woman to use! What does it do? Make everything pretty? Bahahah!’ Your thoughts race to all the things people said to you before. You faked another cough and tried to secretly wipe away your tears that were threatening to fall. You just settled for a nod, looking away, hoping that the man doesn’t see your tears. You hear some shifting beside you and the hand returns upon your head.

His callous fingers gently sunk into your hair, scraping against your scalp tenderly, it almost makes your purr from the sensation. He stayed silent, just letting his hand convey all his feelings. The rain soon ended after this moment, you didn’t know if you wanted to be happy or cry that it was over. You step out from under the shelter and give a head nod to the man. You wondered what a good time to ask for his name, it feels awkward to ask after so long.

The man gave a nod back and began to follow you as you walk to a good place to show off your sword technique. You suck in a shaky breath, readying your sword stance. Closing your eyes and steadying your mind, your body goes thru the motions you repeated so many times before. Right foot first, swing your sword out into an arc, twist your body and follow that arc, another step into a whole dance. Move your body like the swaying petals that descend down from Mount Hua.

Since your eyes were closed the whole time, you didn’t get to see the awestruck expression the man wore on his face the entire time. Mouth slightly agape and his one eye never leaving your form as you make the plum blossoms  bloom around you with each swing. It was breath-taking and utterly ethereal, the man thought to himself. His own hand itching to try and copy your sword style. He wanted desperately to see more of this technique and more of you if he was being honest.

Once you were done, the plum blossom softly fall down around you, it made you look heavenly. You tried to not let out a wheeze, controlling your breaths unless your heartrate fully calmed down. Your turns toward the man as he was walking to you, mouth open to say something but cut off by the ringing of your transponder snail. Pere Pere Pere…. Click. You take out the snail from your pocket, it’s eyes opens as your commander’s shouts out. “Y/N! Where are you!? We have a code red down at the docks! Hurry over now!” You stammered out an yes while shooting the stranger a apologetic look. You quickly took foot to the docks, your duties outweigh everything else.

Zoro’s POV

His hand reached out before his mind could react but you were already gone. ‘Shit..’ Zoro looked back to the plum blossoms scattered on the ground. Picking one up between his fingers, rolling it around he sighs. Hand going to rest on his sword hilt he wonders if he could make flowers bloom like you could. His mind flashed back to your sorrowful expression when he asked you to show off your technique. You must had a hard time in the past, his fist balled up in fury at the thought of someone… anyone making you cry like that. He shook his heads as these kind of thoughts filled his head, it was unusual for him to feel such strong emotions and for someone he barely knows as well. He rolls his shoulders and tries not to delve deeper into these new emotions, wondering where the hell his crew was. (A/N: Zoro was supposed to meet his crew an hour ago but he got lost ofc ヽ(~_~()

Second Meeting:

Clang! Your sword comes down and clashed against the large blue metal arm of the cyborg. “Woah there lady! Why don’t we all calm down and talk about this, yeah?” You stepped back when arms sprout from the ground trying to grab your ankles. “We can talk about this once you all are all in handcuffs!” You ready to swing again but you stumble in you step when you caught sight of a familiar green head of hair. A fellow officer catches you before you fully fall flat on your face. “Get it together L/N!” You nod at your fellow officer.

Fighting down the urge to puke when the green haired stranger goes to join the Pirate Crew’s side. Your lips pressed together when you see him take out his swords against the marines. Your body tense and you made your way to the man. Swish! Clang!Zoro’s eye widen when you clashed swords. “Y/N? Wh-what? Why the hell are you here?!” Veins forming on his forearms as he tried to push back against your attack. “I should be asking you that! If I had known that you were a damn pirate I would never had-!” Your breath falters as your eyes start to well up with tears. Zoro let out a hiss when you managed to nick his arm a bit.

You could feel that he was holding back, not putting his full strength into his attacks. You growled out, “Stop doing that! Are you going easy on me just became I’m a girl?!” You swung down again with a heavy arc. Zoro jumped back shock and then anger paints over his face. “I wouldn’t hold back just cause of that! You don’t know a damn thing about me!” He snarled out, accidently putting some of his haki into his next swing, the force pushed you all the way across the battlefield. Your Commander caught you before you fell into the ocean.

Your head was dizzy and your ears was ringing, you felt your Commander’s hands on your back and neck as he props you up a bit. His visage was hazy and you could slightly hear the words, “Y/N?! Ar- -ou wi—me!? Y/N!!” The last thing you saw was Zoro in the distance, jumping up on the Pirate’s ship and leaving. You soon pass out in your Commander’s arms afterwards.

Zoro’s POV

He was getting patched up in Chopper’s office, heart still thumping from the visage of you all bloodied on the ground. From his own attack as well. He hiss out when Chopper applied the medical salve on a  particularly grisly wound. “Sorry Zoro! Are you alright?” Chopper fretted over him, going to check over every inch of his body again. Zoro only grunted a “Is ok.” In return and stood up. He waves off Chopper’s worries and ignores the stinging stares on his back from the rest of his crewmates once he walked out on deck.

He goes up to the Crow’s Nest, pretending the paining in his arms weren’t there. He looks at all his gym equipment and slumps his shoulders, opting to just lay on the ground. ‘A nap sounds fine I guess…’

His hand goes inside his robe to pull out a single plum blossom petal, he rolls between his fingers, admiring the soft shades of colors. His mind goes back to you, your cute expression when he teased you, your form when dancing, and you.. dead on the ground because of him. He shuts his eyes and holds the petal close to his chest and goes to sleep. Wondering if things went differently, where you would be now…

Sanji:

First Meeting:

You pulled the short stick and got tasked with the duty of groceries shopping for the rest of your team this week. You squint at the long list your Commander gave you. “Apples, Bread (Make sure to get Rye NOT WHEAT), Meat, (Beef, Pork, Lamb if you find it), Bruss-oof.” You hit the back of a tall blonde stranger, stumbling backwards you shut your eyes preparing for the crash landing. Only to find yourself in the arms of the same stranger you bumped into. “Woah there! Are you alright ma chérié?” A smooth voice asked. You open you eyes to find the face of the stranger, a handsome man with a curly brow.

With his arms wrapped securely around your waist he brings you back up to your feet. You stuttered out an apology and bowed to your savior. He chuckles and bowed back with a more flawless posture. “No need to thank me, I will always help a beautiful lady in need.” He then put his hand out in asking for yours. You blush at the compliment and bashfully gave him your hand, he then proceeded to plant a soft kiss on the back of your hand which cause you to blush even further.

“May I ask why you were in such a big rush, my dear?”

“O-oh! I was getting groceries and I was looking at my list and not paying any attention, which I am so sorry for again!” As you explained your reasoning you went to show the list that held all the items you needed to buy. Expect it wasn’t in your hands anymore or your pockets for that matter. You pat around your whole body looking for that very long and important list. Finding nothing in the end, yours hand start to clench as your breathing became more unstable. “Shit, Shit, SHIT! This can not be happening to me right!” Your whole body at this point starts to shake, when you feel warm hands on your shoulders and a calming voice guiding you down.

“Hey there, look at me alright, and breath with me. You need to breath, miss…. That’s it… slow and steady… good job.”

Your breathing starts to calm down as you listen to the voice. Shoulders still slightly shaking as you feel the same warm hands as before pat your head and began to wipes away tears you didn’t know was falling. You start hiccupping as the man pulls you into his arms, rubbing small soothing circles on your back. Once you calmed down enough to speak, you look at up the man, still being held in his arms.

“Th-thank you for this… I’m sorry for—”

He stops you before you could finish your apology. “Don’t feel like you need to apologize my dear, it’s a man’s duty to always help dries a lady’s tears as well.” His head still petting your hair so sweetly it makes your heart squeeze a bit. Still he was a stranger no matter how handsome he is, so you reluctantly push away from his firm chest and try not to think too much about the look on his face as you did. “It just that I lost the list of all the things I need to get for my group and I’m not sure what to do now…”

The man hummed for a bit, closing his eyes before he said. “Why don’t I help you out with your shopping? Not to brag but I am quite the talented chef so this would be a easy task for me to do.” He grinned down at you. You start to refuse stating that you didn’t want to bother him but he had already grabbed your hand into his and was pulling you towards the marketplace. “Just tell me about who we’re buying for and let me take care of it, ok sweetheart?” Your heart skips so many beats hearing him call you sweetheart, just so casually like it was something that was normal between you two.

You brush aside the nickname and your beating heart to explain some of your teammates tastes and dislike. The more you talk the more comfortable you got, telling him about how each of your teammates have something they actively hate and will not even touch a dish if it has that certain ingredient in it. Throwing your arms in the air as you told the story of how two of them got into a fight over who ate the last of the mangos. He chuckles at the story or at how you were acting, you weren’t so sure but you were enjoying the time spent with him.

He easily explained what was best to get, how to pick the best fruit, cut of meat, and fresh fish, he also showed you how to haggle for the best prices as well. You giggled when he went back and forth with the old fishermen, his hand still held on tightly to yours the whole time. You felt a small squeeze every time the fishermen retorted back saying the price was firm. In the end he did get a couple of free fishes with his order. He was swinging his hand that held yours as he happily carried the numerous amount of bags all in his other arm.

You wanted to share some of the load but he was adamant about carrying it all for you but he denied every moment you asked. His hand was oh so warm and caring, when you reached your building you didn’t want to let go. And it seems like he didn’t either, he just silently drops the bags off and hold steady to you hand before letting go. Your fingers slipping past each other slowly until you were freed, free but cold. You just stayed there in the middle of your doorway, you both don’t even know the other’s name but you feel like there was something that was bubbling just below the surface.

However, before anything could happen the both of you heard a huge explosion come from somewhere in the city. The make the ground beneath shake heavily and your ears ring from the aftershock. You look around frantically to see any signs of enemies or anything that could be dangerous while the man did the same while shielding you. You shake off the same feeling in your chest as you went to Transponder Snail to check in with your team. “I have to go check on my friends! Please stay here and stay safe!” The man yells as he starts to run towards the source of the explosion.

You yelled after him but he was already long gone, the Transponder snail still ringing in your hand. You bite you lips in worry for your teammates and the strange man you gotten close to.

Sanji’s POV:

While he hates to leave a beautiful young lady behind, he can’t help but worry about his friends. So while his legs went on autopilot to his friends his mind wandered back over to the marketplace and to you, how his hand fits so perfectly on your waist, the way your smile seem to set his heart aflame each time you directed at him, it was a different sort of feeling from what he usually get when seeing a pretty lady. It both terrified and excited him at the same time, he thought of what he could do when he needed to leave the island later. Would you accept a vivre card from him a stranger, was that too much? Maybe just giving you his number would be fine… or maybe you could join the crew as his assistant? He need to convince Luffy first but also you but his mind couldn’t help but think of all the scenario of you and him together.

He finally reached source of the smoke and found his friends being attacked by a group of marines. He hurries in to help fight them off.

Second Meeting:

The Transponder snail opened up it eyes and you heard your teammate shout out your name. You responded back right away, asking how was everyone and where they were. You voice came out in rasps as you didn’t know that you were holding your breath this whole time. You slide down to the floor upon hearing that everyone was safe from the blast. Tears falling from all the stress, but you steadied yourself once your teammate asked if you could come help. You stifled some sniffles and told them that you’ll be there soon.

You got into your uniform and ready your weapon by your side as you head to the meeting area, the source of the explosion. ‘Where that kind stranger went to….I hope he’s ok..’ Thoughts like these race in your mind as you dash across the town. You hear the sound of fighting before you could spot anyone. You get out your weapon and hurry to the battle to find… The same stranger.

Your heart stops in your throat, your mind was spinning, and you could barely hear you’re the fight over you, as you eyes set on the man. He looked good, you hate to admit it, as he was going around kicking your teams’ ass, but dam does he look good doing it. You snapped out of it when you got pulled back by your commander as a strange and buff Raccoon dog(?) was barreling your way. You landed with a oof and grunted out a sorry as your commander went back to help the others.

Your mind was still foggy over why he man was helping the pirates and what that meant for the two of you. The two of you?? You only knew him for what? A couple of hours? Why were you thinking so hard on this, it obvious that he’s a pirate and that he needs to go down, just like every other pirate out there. You keep telling yourself that as you head straight towards him with your weapon pointed. “Halt!”

The man stopped in his tracks as he turns to meet you, his eye goes wide but then he immediately smiles wide. “Ma chérié! You’re here!” He stretch his arms out wide, as if he was waiting for a hug. You almost falter in your step as you felt your cheeks warm up. You pretended it was from anger and not anything else as you take a step back and faced your weapon towards him. “Surrounded now Pirate! I won’t ask twice!”

His arms was still out stretched but the smile on his face fell. It seems like he was struggling to say something but then the same Raccoon dog you saw before was crashing towards you again but you managed to step away just in time. “Get away from Sanji!” ‘Sanji… so that’s his name..’

You land on your feet with a hard thud. Growling as you try to swipe at the large creature, almost landing a hit when Sanji stops you with his leg. “Wait! Please let talks this out, my dear, we could work this out.” You pushed away his leg and yelled back. “Talk what out?! You’re a pirate! We have nothing between us!”. As soon as Sanji’s face fell, you regret what you said, heart twisting in your chest. One of your teammate came to stand beside you and take aim at the two, shooting at them while they ran back to their ship. You curse them out as the ship’s sails unfurled and they began to leave. Trying desperately to stop the tears from falling as your heart reach out to him while your mind was yelling at you.

Sanji’s POV:

He just stayed in the kitchen for most of the week after leaving that island. Distracting himself by preparing new dishes, snacks, drinks, anything that occupy his hands and his mind. Usopp and Nami was worried about him and the food storage but Sanji waved them off. He puffed out another smoke from his nth cigarette. Looking at his hand and trying to remember the warmth he felt when yours was holding it. He sighs, putting out his current cigarette and lighting up another one. As his thoughts pulled him back that marketplace and the sound of your laughter rings in his ears.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

KINKY BILLY LOOMIS SMUT PLS

Request: Billy teasing and playing with reader while watching a movie at the theater. He’s totally the kind of guy who would sit in the back and fool around instead of watching the movie

Warnings: 18+, exhibitionism, public sex, fingering, nipple play

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’Are you fucking kidding me?’’ an annoyed Tatum complained when she saw you and Billy walking in the theater. Her eyes narrowed as she turned to her boyfriend with an unamused glare. ‘’Please tell me you two didn’t plan a double date without telling me.’’

Stu raised his hands defensively, his eyes wide with innocence. ‘’I didn’t!’’ 

‘’Hey guys,’’ you interrupted, the scent of buttered popcorn filling the air as you walked up to them in the snack queue. 

Tatum's gaze shifted to you before she finally sighed, faking a smile. ‘’Well, this is a surprise.’’

You and Tatum were friends, but not in the same way she and Sidney were friends. It was more ‘friends because your boyfriends were best friends’. You weren’t on her list of people she would call to go to the mall with. 

Billy came right behind you, seeming just as surprised to see the other couple there. 

‘’Which movie are you seeing?’’ you asked, trying to feed a conversation. 

‘’The new Halloween,’’ Stu replied, looping an arm behind his girlfriend’s neck in hope she would forgive him for something he had nothing to do with. 

A smile curled on your lips. ‘’Us too!’’ 

You weren’t too confident about the movie. You heard there was no Jamie Lee in this one, so it was off to a bad start. But Halloween was Halloween, though. You had seen them all. 

‘’We’ll just…sit a few rows back,’’ Billy said, trying to appease Tatum’s annoyed eyes. 

After grabbing popcorn and drinks, you all split up upon entering the theater. Surprisingly, the theater wasn't too packed for a Friday night. The weather was gloomy, which should have drawn everyone here, but there was a football match at school, so that's probably where they were at. Go Panthers!

Billy picked seats at the back, and Stu and Tatum went to the lower middle so they would have a good view of the screen. 

‘’You good here?’’

You nodded, taking the popcorn as he reached down to fold the armrest up and out of his way. 

The lights turned down, and the movie began. 

Forty minutes through the movie, you came to a conclusion that you couldn't get into this installment of the franchise. The plot was a complete mess and you were getting frustrated by watching another thing that made absolutely no sense unfold on the big screen. 

‘’This is shit,’’ you whispered to Billy, reaching for the popcorn, only to discover it was empty. Of course he ate it all. ‘’Got any Mike and Ikes left?’’ 

He handed you the box, and you leaned into your seat, quietly eating from boredom. How much time was there left?

The movie continued playing, and suddenly you felt the arm around your shoulder lower down and pull one of your tits out of your shirt. The cool air of the theater made your nipple harden into a peak. Billy pinched it delicately, casually rolling the bud between thumb and forefinger like you weren't in the middle of a movie theater.

‘’What are you doing?’’ you hissed at him into the dark, swatting his hand away. ‘’Are you trying to get us kicked out?’’

Billy shushed you, then continued playing with your breast with a mischievous glint in his eyes. ‘’We’re only getting kicked out if we get caught.’’

He wasn't wrong. You looked around the room and, thankfully, no one was paying any attention. Sighing, you dumped a few candies in your palm and let Billy have his way. 

A few minutes passed and you found yourself shifting in your seat, starting to feel your panties dampen from getting your tits played with. Pushing the shenanigans to the next level, you took Billy's other hand and brought it down to your lap.

Billy was a clever boy. Dirty-minded too. He knew what you wanted from him.

His fingers slid beneath the hem of your skirt, snaking up your inner thighs until he reached your panties. You parted your thighs wider, giving him more room between your legs, and he skillfully pulled your panties to the side. He teased your folds, fingers sliding between your lips and coating themselves with your arousal as you let out a shaky breath.

‘’Didn't know you were such a naughty girl,’’ Billy noted, looking straight ahead at the screen as he crooked his fingers the way you liked. 

You grabbed the arm rest to keep you from squirming. ‘’Fuck,’’ you slipped quietly, Billy’s palm flat against your clit. 

What did you get yourself into?

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana  @skyesthebomb @a1mzcruml3y @red1culous @iluurmom @popeheywardssecretgf @michaelangdonsslut @byhrxb @kamthecoolest @kattybug @ravenstrueluv @landryslxys @die4niyahhh  @sl4sh3rfuck3r @radiant-whore  @Meadzy21 @luci1fer @nomorespahgetti  @bloodyhw  @depthsofdespairr  @bellysbeach @wilmalovegood @loupiotesworld  @wenvierismycomfort @t-candy  @s-al-em  @darylscvmdumpster  @tommysaxes  @adaydreamaway08 @johannelis2302nely @aqshua @lynbubble @luiise @planetkt @vampyrgoff @adrluvh @mymultiveres  @miqi-16 @not-liah  @lovenats01 @doestalker @lonelywitchv2 @lausley336  @arinexeisnotworking @halforangecuts @l3ndryz  @ilovelandry  @your-platonic-gay-lover @danniackerman  @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam  @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @angelxxrose @lottiefromsam @zoeynicolas @thecrowdedstreetin1944 @cinnamonbun222 @pumkinnroses @cruzgrecia @sunnysunny133696 @aesthetixhoe  @gizmodecaprio

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[the-mighty-mittens]

I did a bunch of Castoff incorrect quotes, you wanna see?

Of course you do

1

Marina: Pick a card, any card.

Rori: Fine.

Marina: Wait, that's my credit card!

Rori: You said any card.

2

Marina: *running towards Arianna with open arms*

Arianna: *moves out of the way*

Marina: Hey, why'd you move?!

Arianna: I thought you were going to attack me.

Marina: I was going to hug you!

Arianna: Why would you hug me?

Marina: WHY WOULD I ATTACK YOU!?

3

*when a child starts crying in public*

Sage: *tries to make the child laugh*

Frankie: *tries to play a game with the child to make them calm down*

Marina: *gives detailed instructions to the parents*

Rori: *cries with the child*

Arianna: *ignores the child*

Vector: *is the reason why the child is crying*

4

Vector: Man, it smells like wrongdog out here.

Arianna:

Arianna: Vector, are you alright?

Vector: *sobs*

5

Vector: A sprite is anything not static.

Sage: A sprite is a variable object, be it 2d or 3d.

Rori: A sprite is a fucking soda.

Rori: You god damn geekass bastards.

6

Vector: Does anyone know how to relax? Asking for a friend.

7

Vector: *walks to cabinet, removes oreo box, takes half a sleeve, throws empty box out* Hi!

Rori: Hey- what are you doing-?

Vector, shoving an oreo into their mouth: I am saving space :D

8

Rori: I’ve been described as a ‘heartless villain’ and a 'little shit’, but I prefer… 'has alternative ways of having fun’.

9

Rori: You’re kind of a pushover, aren’t you, Vector?

Vector: …I’m sorry.

Rori: See!? That’s exactly what I’m talking about!

10

Arianna: Can you PLEASE peer pressure me into doing my project?

Sage: Do it or you're straight.

Arianna: I said peer pressure, NOT THREATEN!

11

Arianna: Oh, so when crows remember people who wronged them and hold grudges, its “intelligent” and “really cool”.

Arianna: But when I do it, I’m “petty” and “need to let it go”.

12

Vector, texting Arianna: Arianna there’s a moth on the outside of the bathroom door can you get rid of it?

Vector: Pls hurry because I’m going to cry

Vector: Arianna

Vector: Arianna

Arianna: Arianna is dead. You’re next. Love, Moth.

13

Rori: Did you just call me a shrimp, you asshole?! I'm still growing, dammit!

14

Arianna: That's it, I'm cutting off the internet!

Frankie: No, please don't! I have a family to feed!

Arianna:

Arianna: What?

Frankie: I need to feed my Neopets!

15

Arianna: You know you've made it when you see your picture everywhere you go.

Marina: Those are wanted posters!

16

Marina: An apple a day keeps the doctor away!

Rori: An apple a day can keep anyone away if you throw it hard enough.

17

Vector: *eating a cinnamon roll*

Arianna: Cannibalism.

Vector: *confused chewing noises*

18

Sage: Where is Vector?

Marina: I'll do you one better, who is Vector??

Rori: Here's a better question, why is Vector?

19

Arianna: BEHOLD, the field in which I grow my fucks! Lay thine eyes upon it, and thou shalt see that it is barren!

20

Vector: Arianna.. I'm gonna cry!

Arianna: Please don't.

Vector, crying: Request denied.

21

Arianna: Respect my trans homies or I’m gonna identify as a fucking problem.

22

Vector: What’s it like being tall?

Rori: Is it nice?

Vector: Can you reach comfortably for the cupboards?

Frankie: We live in constant fear of the short ones who, in my experience, will climb four chairs, two boxes, a small coffee table, and six oddly placed stools to get what they want.

23

*in a group chat*

Marina: First one to reply is gat.

Marina: *gay

Marina: Wait...

24

Marina: What did you get on your shirt?

Rori: Rust.

Marina: From what?

Rori: Weapons.

Arianna: Time for more adult supervision.

Bonus Zebra herd quotes!

25

Zera: "You look tired" well, the torment is relentless and the horrors never cease.

26

Zera: Hi, who's this? Terran changed all of my contacts to mythical creatures.

Liam: What's mine?

Zera: Dwarf.

Liam: THEY'RE SO MEAN, I'M NOT THAT SHORT!

Zera: Oh, hey Liam.

Liam: FUCK!

27

Liam: Oh gosh I wish I got more sleep I only got six hours!

Sonja: Six? I only got three!

Terran: You guys got sleep?

Zera, comes stumbling out of their room and grabs a jug of coffee before saying: What year is it??

28

Terran: Do you guys want to see a butterfly?

Liam: Ooh, yes please!

Zera, with their laptop open: I'm not going to stop working to look at a stupid bug!

Terran: It's not a bug though...

Zera: ...

Liam: ...

Zera: Well I still don't want to see.

Liam, realizing: Please don't throw-

Terran: Whee! *throws a stick of butter*

29

Zera: Self-care is suppressing all your trauma until it comes back and hits you in the face with the force of 7 very large trucks.

[littledreamingirl19]

The last goodbye. Rising from the ashes for the last time.

... And sure I can put all my past behind me, I took one last look at the things that got me this far: the abuses, the feelings of purity I was forced to kill inside me when I was just a kid, all the disappointments that came this far, all the love I was denied and how much I longed for it. I lost count of when I died, I died at 6 years old, I died at 9 years old, I died even more at 13 and this time I remained a zombie until I was 20 years old. I died at 22, and then at 26 I died some more and today, at 28 I died and this time I was reborn, complete. I'm back from the dead and still no body has been buried, I would never let that happen, however much DEATH has visited me so many times and kissed me on the Valentine's bridge, she asked me to go with her and I confess it was tempting , or so many times that she asked me to take the subway, a one-way trip to hell. But I let go of her cold hands several times, even though it was on my mind the whole time.

When I took the last look at what I was about to let go, it was painful to let go, because deep down I didn't want to lose my memory in that VOID that I often lost myself in, I was empty and many rotten things were clinging inside me , I hated who I was before so much, I made a wall, a huge wall around myself to internalize the judgments I made about myself, all the voices always said the worst, I believed them all and put myself in situations deplorable in the pursuit of self-mutilation ("who knows, you'll learn that you'll never be worthy of happiness"). In my mind that divided into little pieces of me, I made a narrow TUNNEL VISION so that they could only see what I wanted them to see, as much as I also wanted to be seen in profound ways, all they saw was my body and I took advantage of it, I was the little bitch, I knew what they all wanted, and the more they ran their warm hands between my thighs, the colder I became waiting for my body heat to reignite so dead. None of them could see behind the blue skin and purple lips (full and delicious), lips that held the sweet nectar of fairies, it was like an invitation to the FAERIE SOIRÉE hidden between lips, tongue and teeth, and everyone was invited, men women..

There was a time when I saw how much I wanted to fly and be free from my own addictions, but that damn SPIDER WEB was always present in every corner I tried to flap my wings, webs of fear, webs of hunger, pain and many confused thoughts and how I could get rid of the clutches of that abominable spider, I didn't want to die in such a disgusting way. I flapped my tiny wings hard and came across a pool of LEECHES, I could feel so many of them cling to my legs, sink their teeth into my enviably soft skin, I let them feed on my feast and ended up with nothing. , starving over all the good I had to offer... Another point in the distance, indeed, screams that echoed in a cave, all the screams that BATTLE WITH MY LARYNX, I lowered my head so many times because of these screams, it was so stupid and selfish, and I waited the first moment I broke it down with a few syllables, with a sweet voice and a smile on my face: I'm breaking up with you. That was the first chain I was able to break on my own and I'm proud of it.

But it didn't end there, even though it was the first chain, my bones were already broken, I had become THE CONTORTIONIST with almost all my bones broken or relocated in absurd ways to fit a box of whatever they wanted me to be, how I should behave, how I should love. I put myself in a lot of different boxes and they always held a gun on me to do that, blackmailed me, made me believe that all the touching and "care" for me was for my own good and that if I acted correctly as they wanted , I would not be alone.. they wanted me to be their nymph, their muse, shaped by the deceitful eyes of what they saw of me for the first time, I was a piece of paradise, a magical place and I should remain belonging to that place (the so-called NYMPHOLOGY misinterpreted as psychology), I couldn't be their mother and take care of them like a baby, I was always more than that, and in the end, when they saw that the nymph was a murderer, they tried to run away from my knives. There was one that was brave, and I can give him credit, but not after how EVIL I was, he was a piece of cowardice when he had the happier part of me, I thought it was all just in my mind and he managed to show himself exactly what was expected: he made fun of my face , and I expected him to always choke on his own saliva, I expected him to bite his tongue every time for all the mean comments that mistreated me in front of everyone around us. That was the last piece of flesh-and-blood garbage I was held hostage to, and leaving it in the corner, not giving it my attention and seeing him running after it, was satisfying..

And even after seeing all of this, I could finally say goodbye to the sorrows, I could finally look at the light that was closest to me... at the LIGHT SHOWER that covered my entire body, the light that I I was always looking for and that finally came like a waterfall and filled my being, the waterfall of love that I almost didn't know how to recognize and accept that it was made for me and only for me. That light so strong and warm that it made my morbid body finally know what it's like to feel the warmth of having my feelings accepted and validated, of being really seen, and all that light also covered my dark side and brought it to your eyes, I was so afraid that he would see it, but that fear was irrational, that fear was gone along with all my insecurities, sadness, anger and regrets. That heat ended all the coldness and mold that surrounded my heart because of my past, he took me in his soft hands and welcomed me, brought me back to life. Every time I see him it's like I'm looking at the most precious thing I can have in my life, my whole body gets drunk on this kind of drug he injects me with, he made me change all my plans and plan my last days on earth devouring him completely, so please darling, just clean me with your shower of light.. these days have been more and more challenging, especially on my MOON CYCLE where my desire for my beloved grows, I feel how much I want him and he wants me, I feel this connection so strong with each passing day, and for becoming a new phase of my life, where many things have been lighter, I can feel it too this intensity of the good things, everything has gradually come together so well, some days can be difficult yes, they can be boring and sad, but isn't that what life is made of?! Going through all this to finally make everything we want and love a tangible reality, this brings me joy and an even greater desire to want to live. I was reborn, it was so difficult to endure the contractions, it was difficult to form a renewed being inside this WOMB that seemed to be disintegrating, I really thought that this would no longer be achieved and I was content to live in the dark, alone, but I fought to get out this new person.. no, better, myself in a complete version, without cutting any other pieces of me. Just me at my best stage of life. I am very grateful for this new chance.

I grab it with all my strength and I won't waste this time.

[thetrueenemyofhumanity]

Heya, I was wondering if you could do a little thing for Widow's getting injured on a mission and being nursed back to health in Talons med bay by her future female nurse s/o who confesses to her when she thinks Widow is asleep?

Widowmaker rarely needed help. But when she did the majorityof Talon’s medical team refused to go near her. During her conditioning she hadsnapped and killed whoever had been close enough for her to snap their necks. Whenshe needed medical care and you offered, you were more than welcome to have thelethal assassin under your care.

It took her a while to trust you and even longer for her totolerate you. Even though your intentions were pure, she hated relying on anyoneor accepting help of any kind. But after the long period of you nursing herback to health she couldn’t help but feel something. You treated her like ahuman, not a weapon, and she began to feel a touch of humanity return. Everytime you would change her bandages or clean her wounds her eyes would bore intoyou. Why weren’t you afraid of her? Why were your touches so gentle? Why wereyou so kind? She was hardly deserving of it.

Widowmaker eventually trusted you enough to let her guarddown. She would no longer shoot upright, alert and ready, every time you walkedinto her room. Now she would stay relaxed. Recognising your footsteps andknowing she could keep her eyes shut as she waited to drift off. Usually youwould just check her IV or remove her food tray and be on your way. But whenyou began talking she could hardly believe what she was hearing.

“Dammit, Amelie, I wanted to get close to you but not likethis. Never like this! When I heard what happened I…I thought you were going todie.” She could hear the strain in your voice as you were on the verge oftears. “You nearly died for the sake of some stupid mission, all alone, and Inever even got to tell you how I love you.” You reached out a hand to brush astray piece of hair from her face.

Her eyes snapped open and you jumped back at the shock of itbut she caught your wrist. You panicked but she simply brushed your skin with herthumb.

“You really think I am worthy of your love, chéri?” sheasked softly.

Your throat was dry so you could only furiously nod whileyou tried to reclaim your voice.

“Y-yeah, of course. You’re amazing, Amelie and I have lovedyou from the moment I set eyes on you.”

It sounded foreign to hear her own name after so long. But it sounded beautiful to hear it fall from your lips. 

“You have had my heart the moment you restarted it,” she sighed,pulling you down to press her cold lips against yours.

[frogtanii]

iwaizumi was... overwhelmed, to say the least.

the past few days had been such a whirlwind of change that hajime could barely properly process, much less appropriately react to it all, so he behaved much like a zombie, saying yes when prompted, signing papers when told, and packing up what was his entire life for the past 11 months.

wow. iwaizumi collapsed on his bed as he scanned his now barren bedroom. he’d been here for almost a year and yet, all his belongings were in boxes within a couple of days.

hajime couldn’t keep the disbelieving chuckle from escaping his chest as he leaned back on his bed, dark brown eyes trained on the ceiling.

it felt like he’d spent such a large chunk of his life trapped in this house, under the foot of the woman who he thought he’d marry but in reality, he’d been in little leagues longer than he’d been in love.

iwaizumi scoffed and rolled his eyes. yeah, “in love”. it’d been about a week since his whole life started to unravel and he had hardly seen, let alone spoken to meiko throughout that entire time.

over text, she’d sworn up and down that she loved and cared about him but as she passed by him packing his things a few days ago, she’d barely spared him a second glance.

hajime wasn’t going to lie. it hurt. he’d opened his heart up to her, something he didn’t do easily, and she’d taken his trust and used it to twist him into her weapon.

he always believed he was stronger than this — he’d never forget his mother telling him so when he was younger. he had fallen and scraped his knee yet he refused to cry to keep from upsetting his mom. iwaizumi existed to live up to what his mother thought of him but here he was, completely enveloped in meiko’s shit, doing her dirty work and following her bidding like some mutt.

god, toorū was right. he really was her bitch.

“i could hear you thinking from down the hall, iwa-chan.” speak of the devil...

oikawa stood at his doorway, leaning against the frame with a posture that seemed relaxed at first glance but if you looked a little closer, you’d notice the tenseness in his shoulders and the tightness of his smile.

hajime quickly sat up on his bed before motioning for his old friend to enter. “uh, yeah,” he began, his voice cracking a little from disuse, “i have a lot to think about.”

the light haired brunette let out an understanding hum before wandering into the room, sharp observant eyes darting to look at all the empty walls. “looks like you’re all packed.”

“pretty much,” iwaizumi nodded before the room fell into an awkward silence, the two childhood friends completely avoiding one another’s eyes.

“look, i-“

“iwa-chan, i’m-“

they both paused for a moment before bursting into laughter, the sound carrying into the hall and throughout the house.

hajime wiped a few stray tears from his eyes, shaking his head at their awkwardness. “you first, shittykawa.”

toorū gasped in halfhearted mock offense before quickly sobering up, training iwaizumi with a completely serious look. “i’m sorry and before you go on some bullshit, self sacrificing rant, you’re not the only one to blame for what happened to our friendship.”

he sighed while making his way to iwaizumi’s bed, sitting down gently beside him. “i should’ve known better, okay? i shouldn’t have let my jealousy and insecurities get in between us but i guess i got swept up in the attention, yknow? meiko is actually charming when she wants to be.”

iwaizumi nodded in agreement, knowing all too well how compelling meiko could be. the room fell into a more comfortable silence as both boys escaped into their thoughts, questions about the future of their friendship flitting throughout their minds.

“oh!” oikawa was pulled out of his own head at hajime’s exclamation, his eyes moving to observe his friend dig through his pockets to procure a thick white envelope. “here. i’d like you to give this yn.”

all toorū could do was nod, his brain short circuiting at the sight of iwaizumi’s apparent kindness to the woman he tormented for so long. “uh, what’s in it?” he ventured to ask, his soft hands toying with the sealed envelope flap.

a soft chuckle came from across the bed. “don’t be so nosy toorū, just give it to her, yeah?” oikawa rolled his eyes but obliged, the bed creaking as he stood to his feet.

“so... this is it, huh?” it was like the reality of the situation was just now sinking in — they hadn’t been close in a while but iwaizumi was still his best friend and he wasn’t quite ready to let him go.

they’d been through so much together, practically growing up together and now, they’d only see each other on holidays, if even then, and then he’d never be invited to hajime’s wedding as his best man as they’d planned and he also wouldn’t be the coolest uncle/godfather of iwa’s children and—

“fuck no,” hajime scoffed with a bright grin on his face. “thought you were gonna annoy me til the end of time shittykawa. don’t tell me you’re quitting your job now.”

the hidden meaning behind iwaizumi’s words brought tears to oikawa’s eyes and before he could stop himself, he launched his body into iwa’s arms. hajime hesitated, his hands stuttering at toorū’s sides as though he’d forgotten how to hug but the feeling passed, his arms winding around his friend’s lithe waist.

“‘m gonna miss you hajime,” oikawa’s voice came out as a broken whimper, his arms tightening around his shoulders.

iwaizumi hummed instead of responding, too afraid of his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. they stood there for a moment but the honk of the moving truck outside signaled the both of them of their limited time.

hurriedly, oikawa wiped the tears off his cheeks before waving awkwardly at iwaizumi as he left the room with a friendly, “don’t be a stranger.”

and then he was gone.

toorū finally allowed himself to collapse into sobs on his best friends empty bed, his palms pressing into his eyes as he sat there and just let himself feel.

apparently, he wasn’t crying very quietly because it took only a few moments for you to find him, your soft footsteps alerting him to your presence. oikawa scrambled to wipe away what he knew was an unattractive mixture of tears and snot as you got closer.

you were one of the last people he wanted to see him like this.

“hey,” you whispered, standing a few feet away from him. “um, i know this is probably a bad time but i just wanted to thank you for apologizing? back at the awards show?”

toorū sniffed as he looked up at you with confusion written on his face. “what? you shouldn’t thank me for apologizing. ‘s common courtesy.”

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. “well, not always. so, thank you.” finished with your piece and not too keen on lingering where you weren’t wanted, you moved towards the door but were swiftly stopped before you got there.

“um, here. it’s from iwa-chan.” you gaped at the thick envelope oikawa was handing you before taking it and opening it, a low curse falling from your lips.

inside the package was a dense wad of cash, more money than you’d seen in months. accompanied with it was a letter, written in beautifully loopy handwriting.

you shut it quickly before oikawa could see, stuffing the envelope deep within your pocket where you could access it alone in the depths of your room.

“do you wanna come eat? last i heard, bokuto and tsumu were doing a cooking competition and i’m sure it’ll be fun to watch.” you were severely thrown off by the money and letter but you were determined to show toorū that you’d accepted his apology and were on your way to making amends.

he gave you a shy nod and trailed behind you to the kitchen, the loud sounds of fire and screaming coming from down the hall. you wanted to focus on the fun and merriment but the envelope was practically burning a hole in your pocket.

later that night, you finally got the chance to open the letter and read it, your former manager’s words bringing tears to your eyes.

dear yn,

i’m probably the last person you expected to hear from. you probably didn’t want to hear from me at all if i’m being honest and i don’t blame you. i know there is nothing i can say that could make up for what i’ve done to you but i’d like to try.

i’m sorry. those words don’t nearly express in and of themselves how truly remorseful i am but they needed to be said. there’s no excuse for how i treated you — not meiko, not my stress, absolutely nothing.

you deserved my common decency and respect and i didn’t give that to you. instead, i abused my position and made your life hell. i’ll never forgive myself for that.

uh, i bet you’re wondering what the money is? i promise i’m not trying to pay you off, it’s just all the money i’ve denied you since you moved here. i have a lot of wrongs to right and this is one of them.

sorry, i’m not very good with words but i just wanted you to know that i’m very sorry for everything that i’ve done. and i’m in no place to make demands or anything but i just wanted to ask if you’d keep an eye on oikawa for me.

he’s strong but he’s also vulnerable. he might be a pain in my ass but he’s my best friend and since i can’t keep him from drowning, i was wondering if you’d do that - not for me but for him.

anyways, this letter is shit but i suppose you get the gist. use the money for whatever you want and if you’re as unselfish as i’ve heard, you don’t owe me anything. you don’t owe me money, kindness, or forgiveness.

take care of yourself,

iwaizumi hajime

℗ poker face

so... this is it

series masterlist

(●’◡’●)ﾉ

an - soooo m back :D hopefully this is the last of my mini hiatuses!! this chapter sucked to write but i’m not mad at how it turned out?? pls let me know how i did skjdkd don’t forget to feed me <3333

taglist - if your name is in bold, i cannot tag you

@boosyboo9206 • @geektastic84 • @elianetsantana • @trashy-simp • @infinitebells • @6mattsun9 • @suhkusa • @katsulovee • @kotarosbabygirl • @fucktheworlddude • @insomniacwreck • @calumsfringe • @saltylettuce • @chai-blu • @al3x1ss • @hawksyoongi • @syndellwins • @jooleuuh • @loubells • @kissungjae • @liberhoe • @tetsurocore • @animeoverdosee • @duhsies • @saikishairclip • @afire24 • @premiyagi • @kit-kat428 • @doctorspencereid • @daphnxy • @kyomihann • @maer-333 • @sinoflust19 • @peteunderoos • @peachiikichu • @iidanotlida • @yongboxerrr • @kac-chowsballs • @tanakaslastbraincell • @memorableminds • @risjime • @starry-magicshop • @sugavwara • @smuttyanimeslut • @kiwibirbs-library • @haijkk • @airybnb • @crybabygumi • @iwaisa • @decaffinatedtealover • @notameera • @kawaii-angelanne • @rintarovibes • @urlocalsimp

the rest of the tags will be in the replies!!

[parkersroses]

sunflowers. | harry styles.

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader (dad!harry, husband!harry)

summary: harry is very much in love with his little family.

word count: 2724 words

warning(s): a sprinkle of sexual mentions and a whole lot of fluff

disclaimer: gif is not mine. 

author’s note: hey there. been a while. i missed writing here and the reason i haven’t been doing that is because i was focused on finishing school. of course now, i still am busy with school, having to start my degree. but i miss writing so i thought i’d make this little piece here. it’s my first harry styles fic! quite exciting and nerve-wrecking for me. but as always, leave a like and a comment if you enjoyed this, also constructive comments do help me to improve my writing and i do want to be better at it. and reblog (!) it really helps writers out in creating content for you so pls do so if you like it. all the love x

She pushes her cart down the aisle as she browses through the shelves of delicious snacks. She already has picked out a bunch of biscuits and juice boxes when her phone rings, making her jump a bit. She takes out her phone and smiles as the screen showcases the contact name ‘lovie’ with a picture of her husband. She accepts the call as she continues to stroll down the aisle. 

“Hi, lovie!” she answers happily. “Hello, darling. Hope everything’s alright there,” Harry answers back. She giggles as she stops by the fruits and vegetables section. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that since you’re the one that’s looking after the house?” She questions about Harry’s intention of calling her. He chuckles through the phone. “Pfft, don’t be silly, love. I got everything under control here,” He says. She imagines how he is probably pouting a bit on the other side of the phone as she playfully rolls her eyes. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, hun. Now, what do you need?” She asks, figuring that Harry has some last minute additions to the grocery. Harry hums and thinks as Y/N picks out some fresh salads. “Could maybe buy more bread for us?” He asks, which confuses Y/N as she thought she has already bought bread for them.

“Harry, didn’t I already buy those, like, two those days ago?” She questions as she starts picking out some fruits. She picks out two packets of strawberries and grapes each and one honeydew melon. She feels as though Harry is hesitating to answer back through the phone. “Yeah, but.. I got hungry so I finished most of them,” He says as though he is embarrassed by admitting this to his wife. Y/N only giggles at this information. 

“You and your bread. Any kind that you fancy this time?” She asks as she makes her way to the wet area of the supermarket. “Just the usual ones. Oh, and the whole wheat bread if there’s any,” He requests. Y/N hears the sound of cutleries clanking in the background, though she brushes it off, thinking it is just Harry cleaning the kitchen. “Alright. I’ll see you guys at home, yeah? I’m nearly done here,”

“Of course, darling. Bubs and I will be waiting,” he says, and Y/N smiles at the thought of her little family at home. The couple say their goodbyes and hang up. Y/N makes a note to herself to get some bread after picking out some salmon before checking herself out of the supermarket. 

After over a year of marriage, the both of them decided to start a family of their own. It excited her to think about Harry with their own child, knowing very well how good he is with children in general. They were both overjoyed by the news that they will be expecting a baby girl, more so of Harry than herself. He was ecstatic to be a father throughout the pregnancy journey. Even on the occasional dates they would go on, he would always make sure they picked some of the most private areas, paparazzi and fans-free. It was an important time for them and they wanted to keep things on the low most times. 

Now, their baby girl Rosie is six months old and is just the purest ball of sunshine and happiness. Harry and Y/N swore that their hearts grew ten times bigger upon first laying their eyes on her baby. Of course after she was born, it was tiring enough for them to handle a baby as they were new to being parents. Though, they managed to get the hang of it after some sleepless nights and cleaning up baby vomit. 

All of that which leads up to this moment where Y/N is buying some groceries for the family. Harry suggested they should take little Rosie out for a picnic. Although it was rather difficult to go outside without them getting papped and stalked, they luckily had a backyard that was big enough to have their little picnic together. It was all fenced up with a couple of flowers planted. It was ideally the perfect place to relax and have some family gatherings. 

Y/N quickly gets home in time for dinner, not before buying some Chinese food for her and Harry. She unlocks the door and quickly rushes by the living room and into the kitchen to put the heavy bags of groceries down. Harry, who had been folding the laundry and entertaining his daughter, notices his wife and calls out to her. “Hi, honey!” Baby Rosie, who has been laying on a plush little blanket, perks her head up and excitedly babbles after her father’s voice. “Hey, lovie! Give me a minute to put these away!” Y/N yells back at him.

Harry hums and puts away the last of the clean laundry in a basket before laying on his side next to Rosie. He lets his baby grab a hold of his large hand. He watches as Rosie puts his tiny little hand on the center of his palms, smiling widely as she looks at him and babbles about in baby language. It’s not long until Y/N comes in with a bag of Chinese food and some baby food. “C’mon, let’s eat, my loves,” She gently says as she sets the food down on the coffee table. Rosie holds out her arms to her mother; much to her delight, Y/N carries her up and sets her down on her lap. 

Y/N multitasks eating her dinner and feeding Rosie throughout dinner time. The faint sounds of a Fleetwood Mac album playing on the vinyl player filling the background. “So, what’s on the menu for tomorrow’s picnic?” He says as takes a bite off his spring roll. Y/N shrugs and wipes the excess baby food off Rosie’s mouth. “Don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll make those smoked salmon sandwiches that you like.”  

Harry playfully moans in delight. “You mean, those sandwiches you make are award-winning, darling,” he says, which makes Y/N giggles at her silly husband. “Well, I hope they are, Mr. Styles. Would be shameful if the salmon I bought just went to waste.” Little Rosie eventually finishes her food and decides to play around with her mother’s hair. She stares and strokes on Y/N’s hair, gently tucking it at times. The couple smiles widely at the sight of their daughter. “You doing alright, bubs?” Rosie merely stares at her parents with her big green eyes, not understanding their question. It still amazes Y/N how much of Harry’s features Rosie inherited. “Surely you weren’t a handful with your daddy this evening, were you?” Y/N playfully questions. 

Harry chuckles and takes Rosie out of Y/N’s arms. “No, she wasn’t. However, she wasn’t helpful in helping daddy with the laundry, were you princess?” He says as he lifts his baby girl above both of the couple’s heads, eliciting the sweetest laugh from Rosie. He does this a few more times until he stops since he didn’t want her to get dizzy and throw up. 

It was a very domestic moment for them. Just the three of them, having dinner, smiles and laughter all around. It is moments like this where Harry prefers the simplicity of life, in the comfort of his little family. “Think it’s time for someone to go to dreamland, don’t ya think?” Y/N says as she caresses Rosie’s soft cheeks with her finger, Rosie obviously showing her tiredness with her droopy eyes. Harry nods in agreement, already packing up to empty food boxes to throw away. 

“You wanna go up first, love? Nurse Rosie a bit. I’ll clean this up quickly.” Y/N insists on helping out Harry after he’s taken care of the house while she went to buy groceries. Though, Harry insists back on helping to clean, saying it’s no big deal. Without much of an argument, Y/N lifts up Rosie from his arms and heads up, not before giving Harry a loving kiss of appreciation. 

After nursing her, Rosie quickly falls asleep in her mother’s arms, lulling to the faint sounds of her heartbeat as she rests her little head on her chest. Harry soon joins in the room and he stops to admire the sight he has become all too familiar with. Just the sight of the woman he loves, carrying and rocking their baby daughter to sleep, a feeling of warmth and peace fills his entire heart. Sometimes, he can’t believe how lucky he was to have ended up in this position and he always thanks the universe for blessing him a family that he loves with his entire soul. 

Rosie gets tucked in her cot, a soft purple blanket covering her. Harry and Y/N go back into their room soon after. Harry lays on his bed with his eyes closed, humming a random tune while Y/N picks out her nightwear, which turns out to only be one of Harry’s T-shirts and underwear. “Can you believe she’s six months old now?” Harry asks out of the blue. Y/N turns around and stands between his legs. He sits up and gently pulls Y/N in by the waist. She runs her hands through his curls, he sighs in delight of the feeling. “Time flies, huh?” 

“Soon she’s gonna start walkin’, runnin’, she’ll become quite the troublemaker,” he jokes and pouts at Y/N. She chuckles at his silliness. “It’s nothing we can’t handle, right?” She smiles at him lovingly as she strokes his cheeks. Harry smiles back and puts his head on her stomach, giving it a light kiss through the dress she’s wearing. 

“Thank you. I feel like I haven’t said that enough,” he mumbles against her stomach. She looks down at him with a confused expression. “You carried her for a whole nine months and went through so much to deliver her to us. So, thank you. And I love you, darling. I’m so lucky.”

Y/N feels her breath hitched at his confession and she smiles at him. She leans down and kisses him hard. Sometimes, she thinks that she is the lucky one. She managed to find someone who loves and support her unconditionally, even through the late night snacks she had while pregnant with little Rosie. Harry doesn’t hesitate to kiss back and pulls her closer to him. She feels his tongue swipe across her bottom lip, asking for entrance. And who is she to deny making out with her incredibly talented and beautiful husband as she opens her mouth, making the kiss more passionate. Harry hears a soft moan from her and swears he feels shivers running up his spine.

They break away after feeling the oxygen running out of their lungs and lay their foreheads against each other’s, breathing heavily. “I love you, too,” she breathes out. They both smile widely at each other, feeling like teenagers in love. She pecks his lips one last time before pulling away from him. She starts undressing as she makes her way to the ensuite bathroom, Harry watching her every move as his mouth gapes open slightly. 

God, my wife is so fucking beautiful, he thinks to himself. He continues to admire Y/N as she undresses until she’s fully nude. He gulps as he feels the blood rushing towards his lower region.

Harry’s cut out from his thoughts as a piece of fabric flungs to his face. He grabs it from his face and he chokes on his saliva upon seeing Y/N laced lavender-coloured underwear. He looks up to his wife leaning against the bathroom door, every inch of her on display for him and him only.

“Mind joining me for a shower, baby?” she smirks as she quickly heads in the shower. 

When he hears the shower turn on, Harry jumps up from the bed and quickly takes off his clothes, tripping on his sweatpants on his way to join his wife in the shower.

━

Rosie giggles loudly and she reaches out for the blue butterfly in front of her. Y/N smiles at this soft moment and holds up her digital camera to take a picture. The sky was a nice shade of blue and clouds looked like cotton candy hanging above. The flowers in the garden were blooming and Harry managed to pick out two sunflowers for his sunflowers. It seemed like the perfect day.

Harry comes out with a bowl of freshly washed strawberries and grapes. He sits down next Y/N on the blanket they laid out, giving a soft kiss on her forehead, before looking over at his daughter. “What’s that, bub?” he asks Rosie in a seemingly excited voice. Rosie squeals and babbles to her father as she points out to the blue butterfly fluttering in front of her. 

“That’s right, bubs! That's a butterfly!” Harry picks her up and puts her on his lap. Y/N is already munching away on the strawberries. Harry opens his mouth to her, implying that he wants to be fed with the red fruits, Y/N rolls her eyes at his silliness but complies as she puts it in his mouth, plucking out the stem. As she does this, little Rosie looks at the exchange and opens her mouth wide, copying Harry. The couple merely laughed at the little girl’s behaviour. 

“You want a strawberry, Rosie?” Y/N smiles as picks one out, she bites lightly on the tip of it so Rosie could have the smallest bite of the fruit. Rosie whines and reaches out for the tiny piece. “Calm down, you bugger. Might wanna say ‘please’ to mommy first, yea?” Harry says to her gently as he rubs her back.

Of course, Rosie wouldn’t know how to say any words at all yet, so she babbles in her baby language and whines to be fed. “Think that might be ‘please’, love,” he says jokingly to his Y/N. 

“Well, who am I to say no to the cutest girl ever?” She jokes back and puts the tiny piece of strawberry in Rosie’s mouth, her mouth slightly stained from the juices. Harry wipes it off with a napkin and leans back on his arms, admiring the beautiful day outside. He takes in the clean summer air as he listens to his daughter babbling about to her mother, Y/N merely nods back as if she understands and talks in the most gentle voice to her. 

Harry sees Rosie picking up the large sunflower he picked out, her little fingers brushing against the yellow petals. He takes a look at Y/N and as he sees her smile, he thinks back about how lucky he is to have them two. There is not a day where Harry was never in awe of the love and passion Y/N gives to the family and he thinks of how he couldn’t possibly love his Rosie more every day. 

He breaks off the other sunflower from its stem and tucks it behind Y/N’s ear. She looks up and blushes at the gesture.  “You okay, H?” she asks. 

Harry nods and smiles at her. “I just really love you,” he says as he cups Y/N’s cheek, stroking it gently. 

Y/N feels the heat rising up to her cheeks. There is not a day where she’ll ever stop being in love with the man in front of her. She holds the hand that’s resting on her cheek and kisses it softly. “I really love you too,”

She leans forward and gives him a kiss or two. They both smile widely at each other, radiating the same amount of love, if not more, that they have for each other. Rosie squeals and claps her chubby hands together as she watches the sweet exchange between her parents. They both laugh at her cuteness. “And we love you too, my little love!” Y/N exclaims to her as she cups her cheeks and plants many kisses all over her face, making Rosie squeal in delight. Harry laughs and smiles at the sight. 

Life certainly feels good to him. Surrounded by the loves of his life, there’s no place or moment Harry would exchange this beautiful day with them. 

[alkhale]

change the channel (Ko-Fi Request) Kenma Kozume/Camgirl!Omega!Reader

hello! Id love a kenma x reader fic (maybe a/b/o) ?? Also, thank you so so much for writing so many amazing fanfics :) every time I read a new chapter from any of your stories, it makes my day <3 

OFC COURSE YOU CAN!!!! And thank you so much for your support and for your donation! AND THANK YOU!! I know this one is long overdue, but I hope you enjoy!

I’m also killing two birds with this one, it’s substituting for Typetober Day 16: back and forth (using change the channel instead)

title: change the channel

pairing: Kenma Kozume/Omega!Reader

rating: T/very slight M

summary:

Kenma taps his phone again, right back at your picture. He stares at you with wide, piercing eyes, leaning across the table and quickly saying, reverent and eager—

“I want to buy your game from you.”

Today, sitting here beside you in your bag, are fully equipped items to try and protect you from the creepy, deranged, rich stranger you’d been about to meet. Today, you were fully expecting to unleash a fury building up inside of you over an injustice you can’t tackle on your own in your society on some poor, unsuspecting alpha—

Here, sitting in front of you, is a self-claimed internet game streamer, who wants to buy your… special edition… game?

“You want…” you say, slowly, making sure you don’t have this wrong, “...my game?”

He nods.

You open your mouth. It closes. You open it again, raise a finger, and then press your lips together, staring at him.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “What?”

link to AO3 for easier reading: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27446191

Omegachion has signed on!

The monitor screen flickers to life. 

An empty room appears. A plush, pink cushioned desk chair is in view. Along the cream, soft colored walls are a series of posters that usual garner less attention. A bookshelf is tucked to the side, complete with a set of potted plants hanging in clean pots—clearly loved. Within the stack of books sits shelves stuffed full with what looks to be discs and an assortment of other items.

The website's main frame appears—SecondGlanceStreaming.com. The design is sleek and black—clean and unassuming. A password is prompted, followed by a series of typed keys and then a click.

On the side of the screen a chatroom appears, coupled with a monitored security system in place established by the website. A cherry icon pops to life. Once the chatroom opens, the entire website flickers with light.

Omegalovers has signed on.

Rockyroadncream has signed on.

Omegasarekings has signed on.

Cumqueen324 has signed on.

Mrknottt has signed on.

Msbyjackalboi23 has signed on.

Openwideandsmile has signed on.

Sunnydayandnight has signed on.

Marshmellowtime has signed on.

Thecoolestalpha has signed on.

Bettagetbeta has signed on.

KingKodzuken has signed on.

Kodzu00 has signed on.

The chatrooms explodes with messages. A series of greetings are quickly issued by long-time fans and watchers of the streams, asking how your day was and how you’re feeling. A few more perverse, slimy messages are mixed in-between, demanding for the crude and obscene. A few others snipe back, telling the users to get their hands out of their pants while a series of other users greet each other instead, talking about the excitement over tonight's stream.

You hang back a bit, one arm crossed under your chest, puffed up with the fleecy soft fabric of your jacket while the other hand holds a jelly drink, sipping it in silence. You watch the chatroom explode, quickly gaining more and more users as others signed on to your stream. You check the time on your phone, sighing before you finish off your drink and toss it into the trash can.

You place the fuzzy bunny mask over your eyes, checking how you look in the mirror. You swipe your mouth with your thumb, applying your lip gloss and then smiling cutely at your reflection.

“Alright,” you say. “The goal tonight is 7,000 cherries… you got this!”

You clap your hands over your face and beam. Showtime.

You slide into the monitor’s view, the webcam flickering to life. The chat comes back with more force, messages spamming into the box and a series of cherries already floating into the screen. You beam, laughing as you wave to your viewers and blow them all kisses. “Hello! Hello everyone! I love to see so many of you are so punctual… Needy omegas like me… we love reliable people, you know?”

You hold back a snicker as the chat increases with your words. People shooting messages back at you as you let out a cute giggle. Tonight’s outfit is nothing but a cotton candy pink fleece zip-up that falls to the top of your thighs, also exposing your bare, smooth collarbones. It’s a special occasion, so you’re going the extra mile.

“How are we all doing tonight?” you ask sweetly, holding your chin up with your hands as you watch the chatroom, skimming over the responses. “Aw, Bettagetbeta, I’m sorry to hear that! I hope things get better for you… do you need a hug?”

Cherry icons pop up over your screen. 50. 30. 10. You smile, opening your arms to the camera. “There! I’ll make all your problems go away, okay?”

You bat your eyes under the mask, showing them your bare wrists and giving them a little rub with your thumbs. “You can scent me if you’d like… would that make you feel better?”

Bettagetbeta has gifted you 30 cherries!

Bigboialpha has gifted you 350 cherries!

“Bigboialpha!” you squeak, covering your mouth with your hands. “That’s too sweet of you! Did you want to scent me that badly?”

Your chatroom shakes from the force of scrambled messages. You smile, shyly running a finger up and down the slightly swollen scent glands of your wrist. You’ve timed this just right—and just as you thought, your viewers notice too, instantly spamming the boxes with more fervent messages, begging to scent you, begging to be with you, wrap you up in their smells—

(God, you make me want to vomit.)

“If you’re extra good,” you say sweetly, “you could… maybe even…”

You tease show off more of your bare shoulder, showing a pink bra strap. You slightly expose the side of your neck, bringing your fingers up dangerously close to your most sensitive scent glands. Cherry icons flash across the screen and you hold back an excited grin, feet tapping anxiously underneath your desk.

There’s a new flurry of disgusting messages, of big, handsome alphas promising to do all kinds of things to you if you’d let them. You roll your eyes under your mask, holding back curling your lip in disgust as they prattle on about how they’d take care of you, make you feel so, so good and—

“All right, all right, that’s enough teasing, right?” you say. “Everyone, thank you so much for signing on again tonight! If you’re new to my streams, welcome! We’re so happy to have you. I’m lucky to have you. It’s a special night tonight, you know why?”

Gonna come for us on screen?

Face reveal! Face reveal!

Omegachion i would do anything for u

Pls let me touch u

Take off ur jacket

Stfu and let her talk u horn dogs

Fking disgusting dont ruin the stream

Open ur legs, baby girl

“Because!” you say, throwing your arms into the air. You spin once in your chair, showing off the room and stopping right in front of the screen again. “I just got it in the mail today…”

You bring up the sleek red box that’d been waiting to the side of your desk. You beam, showing it off to your viewers. “Tadah! Do you know what this is? It’s a gift from our generous website hosts—a gift for reaching the Gold Status on streaming! Everyone, thank you so much! I couldn’t have done this without you!”

The chatroom pops with congratulations. There’s some demanding comments, ordering for a consolation prize. You skim through them all, smiling a bit at the paragraphs of kind words and thanks. They’re the viewers you wish you could treat with a little more care, give them something a little more for all they do.

“Want to see what the gift was?” you ask. You pop open the lid and show off the gift—a dark red, leather collar coupled with a golden dog tag. It’s a stylish thing, slim fitted and clearly of great quality, there’s a thickened edge to the leather, coupled with a lock and key.

It’s an omega collar.

You smile through your teeth. The stench of the perfume from the box makes you want to wretch, but you hold it for the camera as your viewers beg you to put it on. “Oh, I don’t know… should I?”

You play with it, showing it off to them against the column of your neck. They’re feverish and desperate. 

“I don’t deserve something this nice,” you say, shaking your head.

Tease

Don’t cover up that beautiful neck

Dont blueball us

I only want to see u in my collar

“That’s right,” you say innocently. “I don’t want to cover up what belongs to you guys…” you show off your neck to them again, touching with your fingertips your own bonding gland, unmarked and bare. The chatroom is almost unrecognizable, going off into a feeding frenzy.

You turn back to the screen, smiling.

(You’re like babies.)

You drop the box out of view of the camera into your trashcan, kicking it under the table with more force than necessary. You ought to burn the fucking thing but leather probably doesn’t burn well. 

I can’t believe I’m already at 4,000 cherries. You feel excitement replace the disgust, toes curling against your hardwood floor. You got this, amp it up a little bit.

“Since I couldn’t have made it this far without all of you,” you say, touching a hand to your chest and playing with your zipper. “I wanted to do something special—not just this stream! But a nice little event, how does that sound?”

You click your mouse, opening up a new box and icon for your viewers. “Can everyone see the royalty program alright? Yeah? Perfect! If you look, you’ll see the cute little banner we had set up and everything.”

You hold up your phone, smiling beside it. “For these set prices, I’ll be doing a series of special events, just for all of you guys for all the support you’ve given me!”

You point.

“50 cherries and you get a sweet text with a picture from me,” you say. “Each picture will be different, and none of them alike! Keep it between us though, okay? Hehe, I mean it! For 100 cherries, I’ll do a one minute call and for 300 cherries, a three minute call, just with you! For 500, we’ll do a private web-chat session and finally, the big one…”

You smile, “For 1,500 cherries, I’ll be doing a special, in-person meet and greet! How does that sound?”

The reactions are instantaneous.

Cherries already start popping up all over your screen, users filling out the roles and eagerly thanking you for everything while others spit at the prices. You ignore those comments, secretly marking certain users to be blocked. You know the last one is outrageous, how could it not be? Did they think you’d want to meet with any of them? You’d discussed this with several other streamers and they’d all done similar things—this deterred creeps and kept you safe. Usually no one ended up doing the meet and greet. It was too expensive. 

It was foolproof.

I can’t wait to hear your voice

Will it be nudes

I want nudes

Thank you so much for doing this!

“I should be the one thanking you guys!” you squeal. Your eyes dart to the corner of your screen, watching the cherries roll in. Your heartbeat accelerates and you do the quick math in your head. “Oh my goodness! Sitwhereveryoulike, thank you so much for the Cherries! And you too, theprettiestalpha! Thank you!”

As it should be. You grin at the screen, prattling on with sweet words and thanks. You teasingly unzip a little more of your jacket, greedily watching the cherries pop-up all over the screen, trying to make conversation where you can and—

A single chat bubble pops up in the corner. You almost miss the question, but you’re almost certain your eyes don’t betray you. If you hadn’t seen the title so many times, you would’ve blown right past it.

(But you’re a true fan, down to your core, you could never miss a mention of—)

Is your username based on Water Emblem?

“Hello, Kodzu00!” you say quickly, trying to stifle your surprise. “Yes, it is! You must be new to the streams.”

You gesture behind you, smiling shyly at the poster of Varth on the back of your wall. “I’m actually a bit of a fan! I know the series is old and everyone’s excited for the new reboots, but I grew up with the old one.”

Ah, stop right there, don’t keep talking about it. You’re going to lose viewers! Your fingers fly back to your zipper, teasingly dragging it down another inch. You could talk about Water Emblem for hours, but you can’t—this is a stream after all. “Bigboialpha! I guess we’ll be having that private webchat after all… mhm! I’m looking forward to it—huh? What I’ll be wearing? Well…”

You cutely run your fingers up and down the column of your neck, bringing their attention back to your scent glands. “Would you… pick for me?”

You almost gag at the comment suggestions. You watch more cherries roll in—shit, another 500? I might make my goal after all! No, you would make your goal. You have to. The sooner you rake in the dough from these streams, the sooner you could—

For the meet and greet, would it be in person?

You blink, startled by the question. You quickly glance back to the username. Kudzu00 again? “Uh, yes! Yes, it would be~ I’d pick a nice location for us and we’d meet. Wouldn’t that be nice everyone?”

For how long?

Who even is this lol

Damn big bucks

Show us the tits already

Pls sit on my face

Your outfit is so cute today!

You swallow nervously. Calm down. What are you even freaking out for? No one in their right mind was ever going to drop that much money to meet with some stranger from the internet—no one.

“Fifteen minutes,” you say cheerfully, keeping one eye on the chat. Have I seen this user before? “There’s a lot we could do—ah, I mean talk about in fifteen minutes, right?”

Kodzu00 is typing…

The chat bubble disappears. You eye it for a few more seconds before shrugging your shoulders. Shake it off. You needed to keep this celebration stream going. You slyly bring your bare knees up and watch the chat go a little more wild, quick questions being shot about whether or not you’re wearing anything under that jacket. You keep the conversations going, sweetly asking the users about what they’d like to do, what kind of pictures and if—

A bright icon flashes on your screen. You glance over.

Kodzu00 has gifted you 3,000 cherries!

You freeze.

On your monitor the chat continues to fire off. A few people notice the notification. You blink, once, twice, before taking a second glance at the numbers.

3,000.

3,000 cherries?

3,000….

The calculation is quick in your head. You’re terribly good with money, sadly. The final statement minus the small deduction for processing appears in your mind’s eye and you balk.

HOLY FUCK.

Lol i think u broke her

God damn

Congratulations, Omegachion!

“K-K-Kodzu00!” you say, head spinning. “Thank you so much! Oh—oh my goodness! Thank you so much for your donation!” What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck— “I can’t believe you’d be so generous! Thank you so much! I’m so excited to meet you! Our first meet and greet!”

WHAT THE FUCK?

You quickly try to hold your composure, continuing with the stream. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. Finish the show! You laugh, trying not to look at the history of the notification and focusing on your show instead. You thank every piece of good sense inside you for using a mask, hiding the sweat rolling down your face as you teasingly stand up for your audience, bending down a bit.

“Now, how about we end the night with a little… cuddle, hmm?” you say shakily, unzipping your jacket the rest of the way to show off the lacy, soft pink color of your bra. The chat bubbles pop up by the dozens, but you never see even a lick of Kodzu00 again. What the hell? “C’mon, you know how badly I wish you were here to scent me… wrap me up in that smell of yours…”

(Give them what they all want.)

What feels like hours finally passes in a span of minutes and you quickly say goodbye to your watchers, blowing them a kiss and zipping your jacket backup as you finally sign off. You sit there, staring at the screen of your loading page, dumbfounded.

Limply, your finger finds its way to your mouse. You give it a click.

The final total for your earnings tonight appears in a tacky, almost shady colored box. You stare at it in silence.

9,750 Cherries.

Nine…. Nine thousand…

Almost 1,000,000 yen? 

“Yes!” you screech, grabbing your head with your hands as you fly up from your chair. You kick the stupid, plush pink thing aside. “Yes! Yes! Yes!”

This is insane! You almost want to cry in disbelief. This is—this is it! This is what I needed! I’m so close! I’m so close! You know the other streams won’t rake in nearly as much, but this is the final push you needed—if you kept up this kind of participation for another few months, your fees would be nothing! You’d be able to even afford a little extra and get something nice, replace your bathtub and treat yourself to an expensive dinner and all thanks to this stupid job and—

The grand, generous donation of Kodzu00—

You freeze. Your pure, unrestrained elation plummets. Reality clocks you sideways in the face and you slap yourself for being so dumb—how could I even forget? Your eyes dart back to the screen and you pull up the donation history, staring in dark silence at the simple, blaring donation of cherries, already transferred to your account and not even pending and—

Your joy is quickly replaced with something much more dire. You gape at the amount. The award title beside it appears. You stare.

And stare.

A thirty minute meet and greet.

You’d be meeting in person with this person for at least half and hour and—

What the hell?

You power off your screens, flying to your room and kicking the streaming room door shut behind you. You lunge for your bed, scrambling for your laptop, covered in Water Emblem stickers. You pop it open, quickly pulling up your admin account for the streaming sight and accessing your private passwords. You pull up the user history for all your past streams, typing in the username Kodzu00—

Nothing?

You stare at the blank history. The only entry is tonight’s stream. The very first time this user has ever showed up.

Alarm bells start ringing in your head. You pull up your emergency tab, a self-made list of all your red-flag boxes to check in cases like this for your safety. You click on Kodzu00’s account, searching through their profile.

MADE THIS MORNING? You gape in disbelief, staring at the entirely blank profile. It’s even void of an icon for a profile pic. The account was literally made today, just for this stream, and this god damn stranger just gifted you basically 300,000 yen—

This is insane! All your alarm bells nearly fall off their stands. You search for any kind of information, scrambling and double-checking your banned users lists for any potential matches. Was it some creep trying to meet you from before? A stalker? Were they under a different name and made the separate account just to do this to you so they wouldn’t get caught? What’s their deal?

(What’s your selling point for this whole thing?)

You pause, fingers halting over your keyboard.

You’ve had rich donations before. Users with too much time and money on their hands—users you’re gladly willing to take from in the pursuit of a better life for yourself. Your crowd ranges anyway; from nervous, shy little dorks to kind, quiet people looking for company to disgusting, wretched lechers and stupid alphas who like nothing more than little, docile omegas to rub their garbage scent over—

You stare at Kodzu00’s user profile, feeling something bitter and dark and ugly bubble up in the pits of your stomach.

Any person, male or female, who’d be willing to drop that much money to meet with a streamer like you, notorious for what you do, for what you market—can’t be a good person by any means.

They only want one thing.

You grind your teeth, knowing you’ve got no choice but to reap what you sowed. This was the path to quick cash you chose, so you can’t back down now. You’ll just have to do everything in your power to make sure you remain successful.

You close your laptop screen, ripping your stupid mask off your face and tossing it to the side.

You weren’t backing down.

--- (change the channel) ----

You started streaming in high school.

The middle of your last year, to be exact.

It started off simple enough, to be honest. Nothing eventful, nothing worth writing biographies or harrowing documentaries off of. It was another story amidst the thousands in Tokyo’s Metropolitan streets.

By all legal health records and means, you are an omega.

(What does that mean?)

Within Tokyo’s urban and suburban streets, it means a collection of different ideals and social norms. It means nothing to plenty, it means everything to others—to your youthful eyes growing up, it’d just meant you were a little different from some of your other peers, but not isolated, no, never isolated—there were other omegas, after all, despite the smaller population.

You get along with people fine. You make friends fine, have a few crushes, get average enough grades and have a particular fondness for social media—you just live your life on top of having to deal with certain physiological functions others around you may not experience the same.

You think by all means until your last year of high school, that it really does mean nothing. Society is so modern now, people don’t even blink, right? There’s none of those second gender stereotypes or outrageous cult worships—you’re just another person trying to live their life to the fullest.

“A doctor? Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

You smiled at your teacher in the faculty office. See? Normal—

You stopped.

“See, that’s a great dream,” the teacher said, pointing to your paper. He tapped it, scratching his rough stubble. “But it’s not very realistic with your current standing, you know?”

“You mean my grades? I can work extra hard. They’ve been more than above passing, and what really matters is the entrance exams and testing—”

“Not just that,” he said. He pulled up your student file. He gave you a second look, up and down, and he seemed to find pity in your hopefully confused expression. “Listen, (L/n), here’s the thing—a doctor… is a pretty important position, you know? Very important.”

You nodded like you didn’t already know that. Like you hadn’t been spending the last years of your educational life aspiring toward that goal, that dream.

“They need to be physically… available,” your teacher said. “They have to work outrageous shift hours, they have to work hard on top of that, and then they have to take special medication to regulate their pheromones if they need to, and then the schooling on top of all that is hard work.”

You waited for your teacher to explain why any of those things was supposed to get in the way of your one and only dream of saving lives.

“I’ll make this easy for you to understand, kid,” you teacher said. He taps his nametag, pointing to his little alpha symbol.

“Omegas just don’t become doctors.”

Your dainty, prettily crafted world of normalcy and mundane content shattered around you in one violent, screeching halt.

You smiled at your teacher, nails digging painfully into your thighs.

“I’m sorry?”

“It’s just not a typical job preference,” your teacher said. “Look, you’re not the only one, I promise. There are a few omega doctors, sure, we need them anyway to make things easier or make sense of stuff alpha based doctors or betas might not understand, but the demand isn’t high and the placement is extremely competitive. Trust me, kid. I know.”

You kind of wanted to spit at your teacher that no, this pot-bellied, alpha gym teacher couldn’t possibly know more than you do about trying to break into the medical industry as an omega. But the thing is—what are the statistics? You hardly see any. Every website you’d researched thus far has always been welcoming, nowhere on their platforms or pamphlets saying anything about omegas being doctors or not and—

You froze.

“Everyone is welcome!” the videos all said. “Everyone is encouraged to try!”

“This is the real truth,” your teacher said. “They’ll all tell you you can do it because they’re not allowed to discriminate or turn anyone away. They’ll let you do whatever you want, but when it really comes down to the acceptances or not? You’ll just get turned away and you’ll have wasted all that time for nothing.

“Omegas aren’t considered suitable candidates for doctors,” your teacher said. “That market tends to go to betas, believe it or not. A nice little mediator.”

Your teacher tossed your career planning forms onto a stack of dozens. You stared at it, smiling continuously with your fingers digging harder into your thighs. He sighed, waving a hand.

“You should shoot for a hospital receptionist,” your teacher said. “It’s the next best thing, right? Or you could teach biology at a school instead. You might even be able to get by as a school nurse—”

“I’m going to apply to medical school.”

Your teacher stopped, looking at you.

You smiled back at him.

(Being an omega was supposed to stop you?)

What a load of shit.

“I don’t really care about anything else,” you said. “I’ve wanted to become a doctor my whole life. If people say I can’t do it because of something they can’t even see, then I’m still going to do it. They can’t stop me.”

Your teacher stared at you for a few minutes. He leaned back in his chair, considering his next words before he finally said—

“You got the money?”

You stopped.

Your family is pitifully lower middle class. Your parents make enough to pay the bills, afford a vacation every now and then, and just get by fair enough without being too stressed—but small issues, like your own medical costs for heat suppressants or a flat tire can easily set your family back several paychecks.

No, you don’t have money for medical school. You’d already known that looking at all the pamphlets. But there were scholarships and stipends and loans—

“If you want to waste your time with this pipe dream, it’s not my job to stop you,” he said, pointing to your career form. “It’s not really ethical either, so don’t come back and file any lawsuits against me. But your medical schools don’t offer many scholarships, and the ones they do aren’t going to go to that one, average ranking omega they’d rather not even have to worry about.”

Your teacher shrugged.

“Go ahead and be a doctor, kid, but you’re going to need money to do it.”

(This is the reality. People are not equal. Being an omega means—)

Means what?

-- ---- (change the channel) ----

You remember laying in your bed that night, scrolling mindlessly through random social media outlets. You’d spent the last several hours searching extensively for any and all scholarships you might even remotely be able to apply for, but none of them seemed willing to help an omega into their waiting hospital wings—your best bet was going to be taking out a loan. Several. That’s on top of cram school costs, textbooks, entrance fees and whether or not I can pass the exam—

No, you would. You had too. You weren’t about to let some stupid, invisible consensus a group of people somewhere or another had decided on stop you.

“Thank you again for the generous donations! You guys are too good to me!”

You’d paused, staring at your bright screen. One of the streamers you followed from time to time—he was an omega, cute and docile and in all honesty, probably the picture perfect cookie cutter definition of one. He always posted great tips on fashion or about cute cafes he enjoyed, and always seemed to be proud of the fact that he was an omega despite how cringingly he played into the stereotypes—

You glanced at his caption, freezing in disbelief.

Designer bags littered his floor. He showed off his pretty watch, batting his lashes at the camera, talking about how the donations from last night’s stream helped him live a good, cushiony life, making him feel like he was being taken care of even without an alpha by his side.

You’d stalked his account almost religiously for the next few weeks, watching his streams, watching the way he… flaunted his nature as an omega. Your parents had always told you you were fine the way you were, but being an omega had never been something to be proud of—you’d just preferred to act like a beta more than anything else. What was the point? To some extent, your teacher was right, there were no benefits to being an omega except—

“Thank you again for all your donations!”

You pulled up your laptop, searching extensively for every little obscure article you could find on the nature of streaming services. You’d never taken social media outlets that seriously, always looked at influencers and vloggers with a grain of salt—you were aspiring to be a full-time heart surgeon after all, but if there was actually something...reasonable behind the way all these people would act, proudly showing off the fact that they were omegas in exchange for something monetary…

(Did people enjoy this?)

Yeah you can make money from it, lol.

You stared at the internet thread, blinking in disbelief.

One user amongst thousands in the thread had responded to your question.

Ppl always keep saying that omegas are this and that. Society likes to paint a pretty picture of what we call equality. Ads and those videos u watch in school and stuff, they all tell u you can be whatever u want to be if u try, but that’s not rlly the truth. The only thing they were honest about was that you’d have to work hard for what you want in life.

You scrolled down.

You have to do the research on ur own and find respectable sites. I can give u recommendations, but u have to kind of get yourself prepared for what you’re signing up for too. Everyone likes to go on television and talk about how all three genders are the same, but we’re not. It’s not even just whether ur female or male anymore, everyone always finds something to pick at, don’t they?

U might get hate for it but whatever, those people who sit on a nicer chair than you and don’t pay your bills don’t get to criticize you for what you want to do and how u do it.

They always tell us we can’t do things because we’re omegas. That we have to be a certain way because we’re omegas and we’re only good for one thing.

So just give them what they want.

And suck them dry.

You remember clearly, that night, pulling up the user’s account and shooting them the message that would change your life.

What sites do you recommend for beginners?

Youcanruletheworld is typing…

----- (change the channel) -----

You triple check all your items, rearranging them on your bed in front of you.

Your outfit is cute, matching your streamer personality but remaining modest enough to keep you protected from unwanted attention. You’ll be wearing a face mask on top of it, just for the extra mile too. You’d already reached out to this Kodzu00 and sent them the notification for where to meet and when, and what you’d look like so they’d be able to find you. Wisely, as always, you picked a neutral location—an extremely popular cafe two hours away from your house just to be safe.

Safety alarm—check. Pepper spray, check. Pheromone repellent, check. Emergency contact button, check. Location synced devices and emergency heat suppressant pills on top of—

You stare at the last item. It comes special with the standard emergency omega safety kit—you almost spit at the name—it’s a quick, easy attachable lock-on collar to protect your bonding glands in the case of an unruly and disgusting attack.

You want to call it ridiculous.

(Behind your eyes you see the comments scrolling over the glowing screen. You see the leering words and the lecherous promises and the disgusting sentences that rattle your brain and make you stand a minute longer in the shower, fingernails digging into your skin—)

You don’t say anything, zipping the bag closed and taking all your items with you.

---- (change the channel) -----

Thirty minutes, it’s just thirty minutes, you can do this. You aggressively slurp on your straw, furiously dogging the cafe patrons with your eyes, keeping them narrowed and peeled for anyone who ought to fit the bill over what you were expecting to meet today. Thirty minutes.

The black iced coffee with an added two shots isn’t doing anything to calm your nerves, but it’s doing everything you need to keep yourself pumped and ready to go at a moment’s notice. The cafe is busy, just as always, with people swarming left and right, in and out—this creep won’t be able to do any of their normal creep tendencies in a place like this.

You bite your straw, tapping your feet under the table.

Alright, Kodzu00, do your worst. I’m leaving here after the thirty and I’m taking the cash with me—

“Excuse me,” you stop, mouth hovering and open over your near chewed through straw, “are you… uh… Omegachion?”

Hearing your streamer username in real life makes you both want to gag and sigh in happiness. The username was arguably the only way for you to feel remotely sane logging into the streaming service every time for your scheduled program because Water Emblem got you through anything, including all the cram sessions to get into medical school.

Your eyes swing rapidly to your right, moving your head so fast you take your straw with you. 

Ice coffee drips onto the table.

The young man standing in front of you is… is, truthfully, not what you expected. Okay, sure, weirdos on the internet come in all shapes and sizes, but to your own bias, you’ve crafted a bit of a face for the specific types of users who flood your streams. He narrowly passes even an inch of those ideas, with the slightly messy hair, the baggy clothes that look like all he does is stay in front of his computer all day and the dark lines under his eyes, but other than that—

He’s a lean young man, from what you can barely tell, underneath the baggy black sweatshirts and the sleek black joggers, lined in white with a logo you don’t recognize. There’s a dark cap on top of his head as well, and he’s sporting a simple black face mask, just like you—the most color the damn guy has is the bleached blonde tips still growing out past his roots, spilling a bit past his shoulders while the rest is gathered back into a bun.

In an instant you quickly size him up—the guy’s probably only a few inches taller than you and he can’t be that much older or younger, somewhere probably around your age.

You pluck out your straw. He squints faintly at you, holding his phone, glancing back at his screen and then back to you and shifting, albeit uncertainly. He looks like he’d rather be anywhere else but here right now.

“You’re,” you start, “uh, you’re Kodzu00?”

“Yes,” he says. “That’s… me.”

You stare.

He stares right back.

(His golden eyes are almost like slits, you realize, a bit stunned, they drip gold and heather.)

He has pretty eyes.

“It’s,” he says, awkward, not sounding friendly at all, “...nice to meet you…”

And then reality comes back, this time with a spinning roundhouse right to your face.

This is the guy who just dropped money to come and meet you here today.

This guy.

You stare at him in disbelief.

Kodzu00 stands there in front of you, looking as though he wished he could melt right through the floor and disappear. He slowly starts to make his way into the chair opposite of you, pulling it out and taking a seat, setting his phone down beside him like it’s a lifeline and—

Your eyes bulge at the sight of his watch. You know how much that watch costs.

Your alarm bells start firing off again. For a brief moment, unease colors your scent, lightly flooding the area until you instantly reel it back in. Kodzu00 glances up at you for a second but you keep your face calm and friendly, quickly slipping back into your streamer personality, your best mask and first line of defense against whatever the hell this weirdo wants with you and time is ticking—

Before you can even utter a single word, Kodzu00 pulls down his mask.

(He’s… well, he’s not bad looking either, in a… weird kind of way.)

“Look, I need to clear the air first and get this on the table,” he says it a bit quickly, despite the low, almost uncaring inclination to his tone. You blink at him. The tips of his ears are staining pink beneath the fading streaks of blonde and he continues, “I’m not here for your streams.”

You blink.

You stare at him, dumbfounded and hopelessly confused.

“I’ve never even seen them before until last night,” he says just as quickly, looking embarrassed to even utter those words. “Let’s get that straight, okay? So I’m not… here for… that.”

That.

“That?” you say like a robot.

He looks more and more uncomfortable, but he presses on, whispering quickly over the table, “Yeah. I’m not here for… that. So… you can… uh… just be normal, I guess.”

You stare at Kodzu00, the man who’s just payed off nearly the last of your student loans in debt, who’s only here in front of you today because he got in touch with you through one of those very streams which very much markets that, which is meant to appeal to all the what-nots who just want to see an omega bat her eyelashes and act like an omega, to feel comforted or have their egos stroked and—

“I don’t watch any streams like that,” he adds for good measure. “I don’t. One of my viewers reached out to me because… well… because they watched your streams and noticed something and mentioned it to me, so I wanted to check it out myself.”

Oh my god. You sit there in the middle of the bustling cafe. Am I about to die? This is it, isn’t it. Kodzu00 is actually some kind of crazy internet stalker or person and you’re about to get stabbed right across the cafe table and this will be the end, you’ll never even get to save anyone’s life or help anyone and their bad hearts or do anything beyond your stupid streams and that’s all you’ll be remembered for.

“Kodzu00 is just a name I made for that night,” he says quickly. “Online I run a gaming channel under the user Kodzuken—you can just call me Kenma though. Kenma Kozume.”

“Uh,” you say. “Kucina. You can call me Kucina.” You are not giving your real name out to this stranger who can potentially threaten your entire standing in your medical career and out you for the unethical nature of how you’ve been procuring money to pay your school fees—

Kenma briefly pauses, eyes flickering up to you. He looks a bit pleased with your choice of alias but quickly glances back to his phone. You feel, strangely, a little… a little happy too.

Wait, wait, wait. No, this guy is a weirdo and don’t forget that he’s a complete stranger online claiming to be a game streamer and—

“The only reason I’m here today is for this,” he says, pulling out his phone. You instantly grow wary, inching back a bit from the table. There’s a bit of excitement finally creeping into his otherwise mundane voice, and it’s giving you the spooks. Kenma taps, quickly navigating his screen before he pulls up one blurred, pixelated image and turns his screen to show it to you.

“Why is this a screenshot of my room?” you say roughly, narrowing your eyes at him. You point to the screen shot of your streaming room and your face caught mid-speech, making you look dumb. “What are you trying to—”

“It’s not that,” he says, sounding a bit stressed out by this whole ordeal. He looks visibly uncomfortable with the image of you, only in your bright pink bra and you raise an eyebrow at him, suspicious as he zooms in and quickly moves the screen to—

“This,” he says, fervent, almost reverent actually, “is what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Carefully, still suspicious, you lean over the table and look closer at his phone screen. You follow his finger, quickly recognizing your bookshelf, your posters, and then right beside Kenma’s fingertip is—

You blink.

You know exactly what he’s pointing to.

You also know exactly what it looks like in perfect detail despite the blurry picture. It’s a large box, big enough to hold against your chest, sleek white and blue, with silver lettering line in a kind of glowing, aqua teal—the cover art for the product had been top of the line, complete with an engraved metal clasp that opened up to reveal an entire, glossy artbook, coupled with a cd of the game’s soundtrack and also—

“Water Emblem’s Special Anniversary Edition?”

“Yes!” he almost shouts. You jump. Kenma quickly gestures to his screen, to your room and your game and points at it with fervor. His eyes are actually shiny, you stare at him, a little in awe. “Do you know what this is?”

“Of course I do!” you say, offended. “I own the game. It’s Water Emblem: Light Dragon! Personally my favorite game in the entire franchise and the game that really got the series into the world market—it’s part of what started its entire cult following. This is the special edition that came out years ago, wow, I can’t believe it’s been so long! I remember waiting in line for it and—”

“That’s exactly it!” Kenma says, throwing his hands up into hair, grabbing it beneath his cap. You blink at him, getting a little excited. “This game—this particular edition re-launched for one night of sales only in the creator’s hometown and here in Tokyo! It came with a companion edition and most people were only able to get one or the other because it was sold on opposite ends of Japan!”

“Yeah!” you say. “I know! I stayed with relatives in the summer and timed it out so I could grab it! They only sold so little copies… that was the best night of my life, I couldn’t believe it, even though the game didn’t seem to do that well at first until later…”

“Because no one respected the greatness of the game back then,” Kenma says bitterly. You nod. “Now everyone knows but the rest of the editions have all either been trashed or are kept by collectors somewhere else, I’ve been searching for years for a copy that was at least still playable, even without the extra goods—”

“But the goods are the best part!” you shout in disbelief. Kenma looks at you like your crazy. “The art book, the soundtrack, the interview with the creator—they all play their part in bringing the game to life!”

“This is what I wanted to discuss with you,” Kenma says seriously, lacing his fingers nervously together and staring you down across the table. You suddenly feel uneasy, unnerved by the piercing, golden gaze.

“You own what might very well be one of the last, in-tact, best kept qualities of this edition in Japan,” Kenma says. “When this edition and its counterpart launched, the second issue, the black one—it came with a playable DLC code that can only be activated when you have its partner code and it unlocks an entirely new, almost never played secret storyline that’s supposed to reveal another part of the story—”

“I heard about that,” you say in disbelief. “But I thought it was just an online rumour because no one ever proved it or could figure out the code…”

“Because no one could figure it out,” Kenma says, getting the loudest you’ve heard him since. You stare at him with wide, round eyes. “But recently because of the work I’ve been doing, I was able to meet with the creator—”

“YOU MET WITH THE CREATOR OF—”

Kenma furiously motions for you to shush. You clasp your hands over your mouth, watching him with round, adoring eyes, sparkling in disbelief. This guy right here in front of you got to meet your hero—the envy and awe collide altogether, rumbling up and—

(Your heart starts to do something a little funny in your chest.)

Who even is this guy?

“He gave me a hint and I was able to find the code in the other edition,” Kenma says, quickly pushing his phone to you to show a picture and you blink, eyes shiny. “Which I currently own because I was able to secure one when it came out in Tokyo. But your edition is the last part I need to unlock the unplayable path.”

This guy… you lean back in your chair, unable to stop the excited tap of your feet. This guy—he loves Water Emblem. He’s crazy for it! I don’t know anyone except people online who like it this much and he’s…

“That’s why,” Kenma coughs suddenly, becoming smaller in his seat. You stare at him with a raised brow. “I needed… to get in touch… with you.”

You blink, remembering the whole reason the two of you were even meeting in the first place.

Your cheeks grow hot, bright red in a flash of rare embarrassment. Kenma’s ears are just as red, but he pretends it’s not even happening, continuing on.

“Why didn’t you just… message me,” you squeak out, feeling more and more mortified that this man has literally paid you thousands just to be here and… it’s not even… a scam. It’s about your favorite thing ever. Water Emblem! “Instead of… my streams…”

“That was the only way I knew how to contact you,” Kenma says, looking a bit defensive. “I told you, I’ve never seen your streams before. One of my viewers told me and you keep everything private, so this felt like my only chance.”

You open your mouth, feeling more and more uncomfortable but Kenma sweeps in, “Keep the money. It… works out better this way anyway.”

You stare at him in confusion.

Kenma taps his phone again, right back at your picture. He stares at you with wide, piercing eyes, leaning across the table and quickly saying, reverent and eager—

“I want to buy your game from you.”

Today, sitting here beside you in your bag, are fully equipped items to try and protect you from the creepy, deranged, rich stranger you’d been about to meet. Today, you were fully expecting to unleash a fury building up inside of you over an injustice you can’t tackle on your own in your society on some poor, unsuspecting alpha—

Here, sitting in front of you, is a self-claimed internet game streamer, who wants to buy your… special edition… game?

“You want…” you say, slowly, making sure you don’t have this wrong, “...my game?”

He nods.

You open your mouth. It closes. You open it again, raise a finger, and then press your lips together, staring at him.

“I’m sorry,” you say finally. “What?”

“This might be my only chance ever to play the game,” Kenma continues, pulling up another tab and clicking away at his phone. He tucks a strand of blonde behind his ear and the action is almost endearing to you until the reality of his words slowly starts to creep into the forefront. “I’ve never found another edition like yours, and it seems like it’s in perfect condition too. I’d be willing to buy it at complete full, current market price—”

“Market price?” you say in disbelief. “How much is my game going for?”

Kenma looks at you in blatant disbelief. You raise a critical brow at him.

Wordlessly he turns his phone back over to you and you glance down—

You almost fall out of your chair. Kenma doesn’t look impressed, hunkering back down and taking his phone as you spin, head swirling at the numbers and figures, math flying around in your head at the sudden realization that all that money could literally be yours, that the game you love so much is worth that much, that all that money, all that money you’ve been trying so desperately to scrape for could just—just fall into your lap—

You could pay off all your loans with that kind of money. You could… you could stop streaming with that kind of money, finally wash your hands of it and get back on track and hardly have to worry as you work toward the job of your dreams and… 

“I want to buy your game.”

Your heart quiets. The fancy dreams stop. You sit there in the chair, head buzzing with the reality of what he’s asking of you.

He wants to buy your game.

Your game.

And you think then, about a moment far away from this one. About a time when the books and papers crowding around you made you feel like drowning, about lonely summers and arguments bouncing off the rooms around you, and a time where there was nothing else but that loading screen and that game to take you away from all of it…

(The game that you’ve kept all these years, loved all these years, because it…)

“I’d be willing to pay whatever works best for you,” Kenma continues, the excitement is low in his quiet voice and his eyes sparkle as he shows you his phone. “I can even pay upfront in cash, have a fund drawn up or—”

“I’m really sorry.”

It’s the first time in a long time you’ve ever felt the need to apologize to anyone. Not when the whole world has been treating you like the sorry sack for so long.

Kenma glances up. His expression is calm, unreadable, but you get the feeling he can see right through you so you stare at the tabletop instead.

“I don’t know…” you start. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to sell that game to you.”

(He doesn’t seem like a bad guy.)

Anyone that talks about Water Emblem with as much love in his voice as he does can’t be, not at all by your books. His methods of getting to you here today might’ve been outrageous and roundabout, but you’re not really doing things the normal way either, so who are you to judge?

But that game…

You risk a glance up. You stop, staring in surprise when Kenma doesn’t look the slightest bit outraged or tense or anything. He looks just a bit disappointed, but the only thing you really see is understanding and something like a bit of grudging envy, a warmth in his gaze you don’t think is particularly meant for you but still comes through regardless.

“I was,” Kenma admits, a bit quiet. “Worried that would be the case.”

“Do you want,” you start quickly. Kenma looks at you. “Do you want to, uh, see it, at least? Take a look… see if it’s even in the condition you want?”

(You just… you can’t sell it, but you don’t want this conversation to end. It’s been so long since you’ve talked with anyone about this game, it’s felt so long since you talked to anyone in general and…)

Maybe, just maybe.

(You feel a little desperate.)

“Uh,” Kenma says, awkward. “Is that… fine?”

“Well, sure!” you say, hoping you don’t sound too eager. “Of course it isn’t a problem! I mean, I know we just met, but you seem pretty legit and I can just check you out later—plus, I’m perfectly capable of handling myself, even against an—”

You stop, sniffing the air. Kenma doesn’t look bothered, but he rubs the back of his neck.

And you realize, suddenly, you haven’t smelled a single damn thing because Kenma Kozume is—

A beta.

(Oh.)

---- (change the channel) ----

The entire way back to your apartment, Kodzu00, or as you now know him, Kenma Kozume, complains.

He does it quietly, but he still complains.

“We could just take a taxi,” Kenma says, quiet and unhappy when you start making your way toward the train station. “I can pay for it…”

“It’s easy to remember an address but tough to remember a bunch of stations and stops,” you say, ignoring his offer. Kenma follows, unhappy but he still follows. It’s kind of cute.

He walks with a bit of a hunch, you notice. Like he’s doing everything he can to remain out of everyone’s vision, but he watches, careful and observant because he avoids people before they have the chance to bump into him, glancing this way and that and picking things out with particular ease.

Kenma doesn’t look very confident, but he’s comfortable. You stand there beside him on the train, calmly holding onto the railing while he taps away at his phone beside you, sighing every now and then. He’s different, you realize, very different, from what you’ve become accustomed to when it comes to the kinds of people you let surround you for the sake of money.

You almost want to say it’s because he’s a beta, but you feel that’s a disservice in all its entirety. Maybe Kenma will turn out to be a snob of some kind. The guy’s strangely loaded.

You sneak searches on your phone, paling at the articles about him that come up, about stocks and investments and companies and you realize in seconds, this guy is completely and utterly the real deal.

But despite everything, Kenma still does as you ask. He lets you lead as you navigate the string of trains to get back home, doesn’t ask any questions, only comments on the occasional thing, and the entire affair is two hours, but he doesn’t even blink.

Either he really, really wants this game, you think, or he’s just weird.

Quiet, weird, but fairly quaint, and you’re a little alarmed by how much you… like that.

(You’re a weird guy.)

A rude, burly man makes a pass at you on the last train home, breathing down your neck and letting his greasy fingers try to slide against yours on the same railing handle. Kenma makes a face, eyes narrowed into slits in disgust and he quickly looks at you, blinking at your unbothered, nonchalant expression.

His scent wafts over you, thick and uninviting. Alpha. You rub your nose, inhaling your own familiar scent. Kenma looks more and more uncomfortable, shifting from foot to foot, starting to lean your way and scanning for open seats when you calmly turn to the man directly behind you, meeting him dead in the eye.

“Get,” you say calmly, digging your fingernails into his skin, threatening to draw blood—the man stiffens, he pales, surprised, startled by your confrontation— “The fuck away from me before I scream.”

He scurries back, shouldering past people in seconds. A few people shoot him disgusted looks, glancing your way in pity—but you ignore all of them too. They didn’t care seconds ago when they knew what he was doing, if you hadn’t done anything, they wouldn’t have either.

That’s just how it goes.

“Sorry,” you say, even though you probably shouldn’t. You look at Kenma, lips curling a bit. “I was expecting to meet a guy like that today instead of you. I think all that pent up anger and anxiety needed to go somewhere.”

Kenma opens his mouth, closes it, stays quiet for what feels like minutes and then he starts up again.

“You don’t really act the same way you do on your streams, do you?”

“Of course not,” you say. “If I acted like that in real life—no offense to anyone who does though—I’d probably lose my shit.”

Kenma sniffs. He doesn’t say anything after that, and you quaintly let your shoulder brush against his ever other jostle of the train.

(It’s been awhile since you’ve been around anyone. It feels nice.)

---- (change the channel) -----

Kenma balks for a bit at the front door of your apartment, but you quickly usher him inside, kicking your shoes off into the entryway and flying inside. He toes off his own shoes, eyes scanning briefly around the entryway, around your home—it’s neat, he realizes, even if he wasn’t sure what to expect. You keep it clean enough, but there’s bits and pieces where your life slips through, making it feel lived in. You keep plants in the corner, healthy and well but you’ve got a few dishes still sitting in the sink.

He guesses he wasn’t really sure what he was expecting to begin with. 

Kenma pauses for a second, rubbing his nose. He looks uncomfortable, eyes flickering around your apartment and back to you, but you’re already steps ahead of him, too excited to pass a chance like this up.

“It’s in my streaming room,” you say, “come on.”

Kenma follows warily behind you.

You almost kick the door to your room open in your haste, unable to stop the ecstatic beating of your heart as you scramble toward the back. Kenma pauses a minute, sniffing the air again. He glances behind him, back toward where your bedroom is left ajar and then to your streaming room. He looks a bit thoughtful for a moment, but quietly keeps it to himself, slipping inside and lightly closing the door politely after him.

(He’s not one to snoop, but he’s here, it’s not like he can’t look.)

Kenma tries very, very carefully not to consider the fact that he had seen you on that screen only a few nights before, and tries even harder not to remember what you’d been doing and how you’d look. He hyper focuses instead on the stand-out merch that becomes very, very clear to him.

He’s almost amazed your users haven’t said anything more about this—maybe it’s because of your camera angle.

Poster after poster of Water Emblem decorates the entire side of your wall. Kenma finds himself instantly drifting up to it, spotting your shelf in record time. He scans the collection of game titles, eyes growing brighter and brighter as he ghosts a finger over the well-kept discs and the old games…

“You play a lot,” Kenma says, quiet, glancing your way.

“I used to be a bit of a shut-in because I had to study,” you say, squatting down beside your other shelf and moving a few books aside. He finds himself watching the way you tuck your hair behind your ear and smile. “They were great breaks for me and helped keep me company. I’m not as social as people think, so it’s nice.”

Kenma considers your words. He looks at you, trying to reconcile the image he’d had of you from your stream with what he’d been witnessing all day today—how different it all was.

(If he’s honest, he’d been expecting to deal with someone different.)

“Do you do PC games too?” he asks. What are you doing?

“I’m not as familiar with them compared to console games,” you admit. “After exams I might try though. Got any to recommend?”

Kenma does. Plenty. He could go on but he doesn’t even know where to start, turning from your games to try to look at you again and think about how strange this entire meeting is, how different from what he’d been expecting. It reminds him of his meeting with Hinata, sudden and vibrant and impossible to categorize, left—

Pleasantly surprised.

“What happened to your chair?”

“What, the pink one?” you glance over your shoulder, noticing where Kenma’s looking toward your streaming station. “I shove it into the closet when I’m not using it. Sometimes the color hurts my eyes.”

Kenma looks at you like you’re crazy.

“...You keep two chairs?”

“Well, the chair’s mostly for looks anyway,” you say. “Some people like that kind of simple stuff. It’s a nice contrast, you know? Sweet and spicy, I guess? My boss said something like that. My ratings are good so I don’t complain.”

Kenma considers your words. He looks at your station, almost engulfed with stacks and stacks of what he can easily recognize as textbooks. Biology, medical tech, chemistry—all of it nearly crushing the fuzzy bunny mask you’d been wearing on the stream.

Kenma takes it all into his head and he looks again at your small back.

“...Do you even like your job?”

“It’s not my job,” you say. “My job is studying and working at the athletics complex to try to help figure out ways to help people stay in shape, take care of themselves and be better. This is just… part-time.”

You pause, staring at your shelves. It feels weird to be saying this outloud, but it’s nice too. It’s refreshing. You think you can take advantage of it anyway, what if you never even meet this guy again? You hardly know him, he probably doesn’t care.

“And I guess,” you say, a bit quieter. “Sometimes it’s kind of rewarding… sometimes people are nice, you know?”

Kenma says nothing, watching your back. You rub your neck and then finally beam, pulling free the reason for all of this.

You cradle the box in your hands. It’s weighty. You run your fingers over it and stand up, turning proudly to Kenma, beaming from ear to ear and—

You almost jump back in surprise, near squeaking. Your ears almost flash red in embarrassment at how close Kenma is all of a sudden, sneaking up right behind you with shiny, adoring eyes as he stares at the box in your hands, looking at it in awe and disbelief.

“Can I see it?” he asks reverently.

Your heart swells in happiness and you eagerly nod, handing it over to him.

Kenma receives the gift with care. He runs his fingers over it, carefully, as though afraid to even leave a single print behind before he pops the metal engraved latch and opens it up.

You and Kenma sigh together in unison, swooning at the sight.

“It’s amazing,” Kenma says.

“I know.”

“I can’t believe I’m seeing it in person.”

“I know!”

“You took great care of it.”

“I—” you flush at the praise, wilting a bit. “I-uh, thanks…”

“Can I see you play it?” Kenma says suddenly, looking almost desperate. You freeze. He looks up at you, expression completely different from his near lifeless one. His face is vibrant and full of excitement, thrumming just under the surface of his nonchalance. “The loading screen even? I—I have to see what it looks like logged in and—”

“I...actually can’t,” you say quietly, embarrassed. Kenma looks confused.

“I… I sold the console for it,” you say, feeling more and more guilty to finally have to admit one of your biggest regrets. Kenma pauses, expression quieting as he looks at you. You stare at the floor, trying not to look at the computer and web camera sitting in the corner. “I needed to buy some stuff… so I had to sell it in. I still kept a lot of the games, thinking I’d buy another one when I got the chance…”

You ruffle the back of your head, trying to quell the stifling scent of embarrassment that tries to escape you. You rub your wrists. Kenma’s eyes are briefly drawn to the action before he looks at you, still holding your game. You bow your head a little. “Um, if you want though, you can take it to your place and see—it absolutely will still work. I can just, take something to make sure you don’t run off or I can just—”

“Do you want to come over and use mine?”

You pause, looking at Kenma, dumbfounded.

Kenma stares right back at you. You can’t read a single inch of his face.

“We can use my place,” Kenma says, calm, unbothered. Your eyes grow round. “I really… really want to see the game in action… it’ll probably be more fun to see you play it anyway first.”

“Is that,” you start, uncharacteristically shy. “...okay?”

Kenma wordlessly nods.

(Your heart does something a little funny. You just write it off as an exaggeration. You’re such a sad sack.)

“Um!” Kenma looks up. You flush, hating how embarrassed you feel, hating how much of your bravado is missing, but you almost stutter out, “I-It’s (L/n) by the way… (L/n) (Y/n)...”

“... okay,” Kenma says. “It’s nice to meet you, (L/n).”

--- (change the chanel) ---

“You know, Kenma,” Kuroo said once, leaning back on the train ride home as Kenma tapped away at the buttons on his console. “For all you say and stuff, you’re pretty good at putting all the pieces together, aren’t you?”

--- (change the chanel) ---

One month.

Non-stop, several days a week, for hours on end—that’s how long the two of you play the game together.

You nearly miss streams, spend hours at Kenma’s house, laughing when you come to find him half-asleep in his sheets, barely rolling out to come greet you and instead just buzzing you in. You think it’s insane—how quickly this… this thing builds. You think you ought to be dreaming, but you don’t really want it to end.

(You’ve gone too long without anyone to laugh like this with.)

 You pull late-nighters that are terrible for your complexion, eat take-out like you’re cramming for exams all over again, laughing while Kenma quietly watches and scrolling through Water Emblem merchandise and fan bases and—

You spend time with him. With Kenma. You spend hours and days and what feels like endless forever and fun. It’s so sickeningly amazing you almost don’t believe it’s real. Sometimes you two argue, getting into heated spats over calls on how to move your characters, critiquing each other’s moves and then laughing when the other fails, sometimes it’s outright cheers from you while Kenma nods in satisfaction when you clear another mission and proceed forward and—

You haven’t even been alive that long, but compared to everything else, it almost feels like the best moment of your life.

“I did an entire episode on why moving this character is better than the rest,” Kenma mutters one day beside you. “I’m telling you, we need to deploy them. They’re wasted as an adjutant.”

You pause beside Kenma, blinking at his massive screen. You stare at your hands, and then you look at Kenma, blinking again in realization.

And in all this sudden time you’ve spent with him, you realize you’ve never seen one of his streams.

--- (change the chanel) ---

“Uh, hey everyone, thanks for stopping by again.”

You snort. Kenma doesn’t look the slightest bit at ease, his small face-view camera appearing in the corner of your screen as the old stream starts. It’s only of his earliest ones, the one where he replayed Water Emblem for his channel.

“I like this game a lot… it’s the one I always wanted to do a stream for… so I hope you enjoy it too.”

Is that it, dude? You laugh, shaking your head and kicking your legs out as Kenma gets the loading screen started and adjusts his chair. His camera shakes a bit and everything about the video attests to its age and its novelty. It makes you smile. He must’ve come a long way from these videos to the freaking multi-millionaire he was now.

(He worked hard.)

At first the show starts off rather quiet, maybe a bit awkward. Kenma hardly talks, quietly playing through the beginning sequences of the game and only commenting once or twice on the music or graphics. It’s kind of nice, peaceful, just watching someone go through the familiar motions until the real first part of the game starts and then—

“I never get tired of this part.”

You pause at his voice, glancing to the corner of the screen. Kenma’s eyes glow. He smiles, low, small and quiet, and he leans so far forward, almost out of his seat as he starts to play, quietly talking, describing the things he’s doing, the parts of the game he’s in love with and—

You roll over onto your side, watching the stream. Everytime Kenma mutters something under his breath you laugh, when he flubs you grimace, when he succeeds—you cheer, kicking your heels into the air. It’s really like playing the game all over again—even if the comments say he hardly shows any emotion, you can see it.

Kenma Kozume loves this game.

He loves what he does.

The thought makes you pause, staring quietly at the screen.

The dark corner of your room looks a little bigger. The quietness is a little louder. You lay there in your bed, watching Kenma thank everyone for watching with a sigh, giving the game a second glance, like he’s thinking of playing more even though he said he’d stop and—

Your alarm nearly startles you out of bed. You quickly glance over, shooting up in realization.

“My stream,” you murmur, dropping your phone and hurrying to your video room. “Gotta do… my stream…”

Your eyes glance back to your phone. You stare at the dark screen.

“Do you even like what you do?”

You shake your head, closing the door behind you.

--- (change the chanel) ---

“Thanks again everyone for coming! Your favorite omega is going to be lonely without you~”

The screen clicks, turning off.

You sit there in your plush, bright pink chair. Your open jacket hangs on either side of you, revealing your bikini for the beach theme you were going with today. The video room is near silent, save for the soft, quiet hum of your computer running while your monitor blinks, turning to a save screen.

Your game sits in your lap, carefully cradled by your hands. Off to the side is a thorough stack of medical textbooks you still owe money on. You were planning on studying for your test tomorrow after the stream tonight.

You run your fingers over the amazing edges of the collector’s box. You thumb every part of it, retracing the familiar memories, even the small little dent in the corner when you dropped it the first night you got it and almost cried.

You hold it there in your hands. It feels so, so warm, even though you think that shouldn’t really be possible.

There, in the darkness of your video room you sit. Quiet in the near-silence, head lowered, gently running your fingers over it, again and again.

Kenma’s lulling voice is the only thing you hear, playing over his stream, and you shut your eyes, bringing your knees and the box up to your chest. It jabs your ribs, sits uncomfortable, but you don’t really care.

“Do you even like what you do?”

(What I’m doing now, at least… yeah, I do. I really do.)

--- (change the chanel) ---

(L/n) is typing...

Hey, can we talk? 

It’s nothing important, let’s just meet up for dinner if you’re free!

Is that fine?

Kenma is typing...

Yes.

Location sent.

Let’s go here. I’ll make reservations.

Okay! :)

(Y/n) is typing…

(Y/n) stopped typing.

--- (change the chanel) ---

The place Kenma picks is some ridiculously nice looking Japanese Restaurant. It’s dimly lit and elegant and fancier than anything you’re used to, and you’re not really sure why he picks it until he orders for both of you and then the wagyu comes out and you know.

Seeing the steak, knowing you’ll get a good meal—it kind of makes this whole thing a lot easier.

Kenma sits comfortably on the floor right across from you. It’s a small, private room he’s rented out for the both of you. He’s dressed in the usual—baggy sweatshirts and athletic but comfortable joggers, and his hair is pulled back a little more neatly tonight as he pours tea for you and then for himself.

“This smells so good,” you say, mouth watering as you pick up the smooth, fancy wooden chopsticks. “Mind if I start?”

“Go ahead,” Kenma says. He leans back, picking up his spoon to dig into his own soup first. “What did you want to talk about?”

“The game,” you say around a mouthful of wagyu. It melts like butter on your tongue. “I’m going to give it to you.”

Kenma freezes, looking up at you in shock. His spoon clutters back into his bowl.

“What?” Kenma says.

“I’ve thought about it,” you say. “You were right. I don’t even have the console to play it anymore. It kinda just sits, collecting dust. It’s not fair when that game is literally everything.”

Your hands still a bit. You stare at the sizzling hot plate.

“I think you have a lot of fun with your streams,” you say, softer. “I think… I think Water Emblem would be well off in your hands. I think… I think it’s what it deserves, you know?”

Kenma is silent, frozen like a statue in front of you. You continue, lightly tracing a thumb over your other wrist, as though in comfort. Moments like this, you do wish for the chance to scent or be scented by someone again—just something familiar, something warm and nice. Your family is miles away and you just...

“I’ve had too much fun playing it again thanks to you,” you say, warm, full of happiness. Yeah, this is what feels right. “And you never once asked for the money from that night back, even though it should’ve just gone into paying for the game… that’s why I want to just give it to you. You’ve already done too much for me, and it’s more than paid for the game.”

“Hold on,” Kenma says. “I—hold on, one second.” He rushes for his phone, fumbling. You shake your head. “No, hold on—”

“I’ve still got my streams to do,” you say with an awkward laugh. “I can’t spend all my time playing video games again. Once exams come up and then—”

“No,” Kenma tries, looking a bit frustrated. He curses at his phone, “Give me a second to explain before you—”

“I’m doing this,” you say resolutely, standing up from your seat. Kenma balks. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me. Besides, I guess I got to meet you. That’s not so bad. Now stop making this weird and let me just do something cool for once in my life—”

“I want you to do a streaming series with me!”

You stop, staring at Kenma. He holds out his phone, showing the screen to you—but your eyes are on him, round and disbelieving and then—

Your entire face flushes bright red, cherry like a tomato.

“Y-Y-You w-w-w-want to d-d-do a s-stream with me—”

“Not one of yours!” Kenma blurts. You blink. He curses, ruffling his hair roughly before he gestures again with more vigor to his phone, “This—just look at this.”

You glance to Kenma’s phone.

“...you’re doing a new stream series,” you say, eyes widening in awe. “It’s going to be on the secret, never played route for Water Emblem—see! That’s perfect! If you’re going to do that, you need my half of the game and—”

“I want to do it with you.”

You freeze, mouth falling open.

“I’ve been thinking about it since you came over to play,” Kenma says, quietly setting his phone down on the table—he takes on the tone that means business, the calm, lulling one he your hear him use on the phone sometimes to make sure deals are delivered and he gets what he wants. “It’d be a great idea, and it’d be… fun. I’ve been letting you play because I wanted to see if the style would be compatible and I think it’ll be more than fine.”

Kenma taps his phone again.

“Of course, you’d be compensated,” he turns it to you, “we’d split the profits 50/50 from each streaming episode. Considering my normal projected view count and ad revenue, you can expect at least this much.”

You look at the numbers.

Your mouth stays open, knees sinking to the floor.

“If you’re willing,” Kenma says quietly, “to take a break from your streams to do this series with me… I think it would be mutually beneficial.”

Can things really, really work out, just like that?

“Besides,” Kenma says, even quieter. You close your mouth, looking at him in disbelief, in awe, in reverence, and he meets your gaze with his golden one.

“The secret route is meant for dual players,” Kenma says. “Water Emblem is known for being a single player, but what makes it special is it needs two for this route… it… it would be a disservice to the story to do it any other way.”

You can’t help it.

Your scent and pheromones you struggle and try so, so hard to always keep under lock and key explode forth, nearly flooding the entire room. Kenma stiffens, going ramrod straight and grabbing onto the top of his pants as your happiness engulfs the two of you. You’re sure it probably alarms everyone in the hall or anywhere near. Your happiness crashes and lulls and your entire face crumples in disbelief—

“Is it really…” you start, like a whisper, “really okay?”

Kenma shifts in his seat. He pulls at the hood of his sweater, opening his mouth before he quickly closes it. He mutely nods, resolute, and you stand up, lunging across the table to grab his hands. Kenma’s face flushes a bright red, his body stiffening in alarm.

“Kenma!” you say. “Kenma! Kenma, you’re a godsend! A guardian angel! My guardian angel! You don’t understand what this means for me—you don’t know what you’re doing for me—”

“(L/n),” Kenma says, he sounds strained. You pause, looking at him with round eyes. “I’m… excited… but I need you…”

Kenma lets out a slow, ragged breath. “Please… tone it down… just a little…”

You tilt your head in confusion. Your eyes drop down, noticing the sweat beading at the corner of Kenma’s temple, at the hard, rigid look in his hazy, warmly golden eyes and…

A soft scent teases your nose. You pause, blinking in disbelief. No way. You’re crazy, right?

“Um, Kenma,” you say, a little nervous. There’s no way, right? “You’re… you’re a… beta, right?”

Even betas could be sensitive to pheromones. You were being too careless right now, you must’ve just been too much and—

Kenma rigidly shakes his head.

You blink, feeling very, very, very small.

“Alpha,” Kenma exhales, holding his hand to his nose, scrunching in on himself while he peers up blearily at you, eyes swimming with something you’ve never seen once in his gaze before. He sticks his wrist out to you. 

“Uh,” you say, hating how nervous you sound. “C-Can… I?”

Kenma wordlessly holds his hand out to you, keeping it in the air. You tentatively step closer for a moment, sniffing lightly. His smell. 

Kenma’s scent is so quiet, it’s no wonder you… you never noticed. It’s become so familiar, always felt so calming and subtle and soothing, but if you look for it the way an omega would, pheromones in tune and acute—you do catch it, just the faint hint of something sharp, the familiar, light tang of alpha and—

You quickly pull back. You open your mouth, close it, open it again, and then close it.

“I’m so sorry—”

“You’re fine,” Kenma says, quick and quiet. You mutely nod, mortified. Kenma motions for you to relax as he stands, grabbing his wallet. “I’m going to take care of the bill. Get… fresh air. I’ll be back—”

“You should let me—”

“You can get the next one,” Kenma says. Something in his words makes you strangely complied to listen, ridiculously docile, and you blink in surprise when you sink back to your knees and Kenma’s eyes seem a little warm, a little—

(Pleased?)

“I’ll be right back.”

“Okay!” you say jovially. Kenma nods, leaving you. You can’t believe it. This is it—this is—

The start of something great.

You hold your head in your hands, unable to contain your happiness.

Oh my god.

You stop, blinking again in realization.

BUT I’VE BEEN SUCH AN IDIOT, HE’S BEEN A—THIS WHOLE TIME—HOW RUDE MUST I HAVE—

You fall back into the cushion, kicking your feet up in disbelief.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid—I better apologize over and over—”

--- (change the chanel) ---

Kenma quietly steps out of the private room, sliding the door shut behind him.

He stands there, silent, basking in the faint afterglow, of the leaking, intoxicating feel of your happiness wrapping thickly around him, clinging to his skin.

Kenma lifts his hand up to his nose. He sniffs, once.

Your scent floods him.

Kenma’s tongue lightly drags up the inside of his wrist. He closes his eyes, briefly catching it—the soft, sweet taste of you against his lips, on his tongue. Kenma waits there, inhaling softly before his eyes slide open, thin, golden slits.

This would be the start of a fairly interesting partnership.

Omegachion has signed off!

Thanks for watching!

[heyitsyn]

Manager!Seijoh Part 5

a/n: we ltr going at 5 parts and i have another part written out and im just drowning in love with these seijoh asks

for more seijoh content, check this masterlist out!

anon request:

Can i ask for cute moments between manager and the boys outside of school, like how she and kyoutani probably bump into each to go feed strays etc??

yes anon!!!!!! these moments made me so soft™

IM CACKLING LIKE BLS THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVORITE PARTS OF THE ENTIRE STAGE PLAY BC HE PLAYS OIKS SO WELL AND IWA IS JUST SO IWA AND I LIVED FOR OIKS’ ‘IWA-CHAN!’ AND IWA’S ‘RAAAAA!’ AND THIS GIF JUST SHOWS SEIJOH BEING SEIJOH AND HOW THEY WOULD REALLY ACT IF THEY WERE REAL LIKE UGH THEY DID SUCH A GOOD JOB W THE CASTING

these are the cute little moments and get ready to die of the cuteness

be warned, this isnt a straight plot or no main focus but just bits and pieces of fluff 

keeping up with seijoh episode 3467328937

as mentioned before, they dont really get to hang out a lot w you outside of practice 

youre either too busy taking care of your schoolwork, catsitting for the aizawa’s, or having you time since youve been busy w the boys all week

but there are times where you do have available time to go hang out with the boys

and they know about your schedule so they try to make memories either during practice or after practice

fortunately, kyo lives at the same street as the aizawa’s so he walks you to their house when you have a job 

but sometimes when you are just walking home, you both stop by the convenience store first and find some cat food cans and dog food cans and water 

it was a complete accident when you both found each other standing at the same aisle, holding the same things, with the same intentions, for the same animals

the alleyway where you first met is basically your second home bc thats where your babies live

since you cant exactly take in 5 dogs and 6 cats in your house, you and kyo are taking care of them in that alleyway where you feed them and build them a little shelter with blankets and stuff

this will be explained more in the next manager!seijoh part

after practice, particularly after a really productive one, the guys like to go to the ramen shop near the school to treat themselves after their hardwork

by now, the old lady who owns the shop knows their order by heart and has it ready when you all enter

yall get settled in but you go over to yahaba and snap his wooden chopsticks for him bc he never snaps them properly and ends up breaking them

meanwhile,,

you gather as much napkins as you can and place them beside kindaichi bc he makes such a mess while he eats and you have stand-by wipes for him

you make a special request to add tofu into iwa’s ramen bc the mans loves tofu so much and he still doesnt understand how the lady seems to know this despite him never telling her

your seat is usually next to mattsun bc he doesnt eat all the side dishes up like the others and you can eat some of it too

kyo sit across you and demands you eat at least 2 bowls bc you never seem to eat enough and he gets secretly concerned so he aggressively cares for you

‘kyo-san,,,, im full though’

he ‘glares’ at you

‘what you mean youre full. you didnt even finish the bowl. eat the rest and have another or youre not leaving this table’

pls what

fun fact, oikawa actually has two pairs of glasses and he gave you one in case he forgets to wear his main one and leaves it at home

so he gets to school and he just realizes he forgot his glasses and his contacts were still being shipped so he freaks out and texts you about it

but you always have the case safely tucked in your bag so you wander up to the third year floor and knock on his class door

iwa, who is in the same class as him, glares at the students who stare at you and nudges oikawa who was looking out the window

‘oi, your glasses’

his head snapped to the side and sees your smiling face and the familiar brown box being held out to him

his face scrunches and he launches up his seat and takes you in his arms

‘Y/N-CHAN IS SO RESPONSIBLE! SO NICE! OIKAWA-SENPAI REALLY APPRECIATES YOU!’

‘oikawa-san, please let me go’

you mumbled, embarrassed at his behavior in front of the whole class

once iwa has you safely on the ground, you excuse yourself and go back to class

the class still stared at the door you passed through and iwa had to bark at them to go back to their business

youre like the seijoh and younger version of goddess kiyoko

before kyo got back to the team, you usually walked home by yourself but makki actually accompanies you when he doesnt have errands to run

‘makki-san, i heard theres a sale going on for puffs’

you would mention as you walked and you would look to see his eyes light up and walk faster towards the bakery

‘cmon, y/n-chan. makki-senpai is treating you today!’

he turns into a child, a contrast to his chaotic energy in school, and he runs over to the glass where indeed, there was a sale going on for his puffs

while he was staring at what flavor he wanted, youd go to the cashier and give her your card

‘when that guy with the light brown hair with the blue and white jacket comes up to pay for his cream puffs, charge it to my card, please. whatever you do, dont take his and use mine immediately, please. ill come by later and pick it back up’

the old cashier lady felt true hope and happiness for humanity at your actions and it increased when she saw the shocked look on the boy’s face when she immediately swiped the card when he finished ordering

‘what? i havent paid-’

‘the young lady that came with you already did, young lad. shes a keeper’

he turned red

‘ahaha, no, shes our team manager’

once he finished paying and went outside, he took out his phone and dialed your number to call you

you smiled from the aisle in the convenience store down the street bc you were expecting him to call you

‘hewwo, makki-san’

he shut his eyes at how cute you sounded

‘y/n-chan, senpai wanted to treat you today!’

he whined but you bit your lip, leaving the store after purchasing a drink with the remaining cash you had

‘hmm, but i did too. you just werent too fast, senpaiiii~’

you teased and he let out a breathy laugh

‘next time i’ll be faster! mark my words!’

‘then im looking forward to it, senpai~!’

did anyone notice that he is the first one she called senpai?

to our baby yahaba

we know how he literally tried to go after yachi in that one episode so you know how flirty he is

but youve made it clear that you reject his advances and he pouts and finally accepts it so he stops it, instead actually just caring for you

ya know how he cares for the others and cheers them on?

he does the same to you

our babie notices that you are so busy taking care of the others that you forget to take care of yourself

like that time they lost to shiratorizawa, you made bentos for them all week to cheer them up

but he saw you not even eating and realizes that you were busy making the food that they like, each different to accomodate to their taste, that you had no time to make your own

he went down to your class and noticed you missing and he asks kindaichi and kunimi and they said that you said you wanted to get fresh air

since he pays attention to you, he knows you like to go to the roof to breathe

he ventures up the stairs and when he opens the door, he notices you just staring up at the sky, sitting down on the floor

‘being in an empty place like the roof doesnt compare to how lonely Pluto must feel to be outcasted in the solar system’

your comment catches him off-guard but he regains composure and makes his way to you before sitting down next to your form

‘hmm, oikawa-senpai talked to me about space one time. he mentioned the vast possibilities that stays hidden in the shadows’

you and him turn your head at the same time and share a gentle smile

‘but its up to us to find those secrets and abilities’

you finished

he nodded and went back to look at the clouds that looked like they were slowly moving but it was really the earth turning

‘i want to be a sports instructor. i want to be able to help others,,, i want to help them find those abilities and perfect them so they could fully love playing’

a chuckle escaped you and you tightened your arms around your knees, following his gaze to the blob of white that was painted on to the blue canvas

‘let other people be your universe, baba-senpai. dont let them be like Pluto. take time to find out who they are so they dont feel so lonely, okay?’

yall im tearing up right now though

as mentioned at the first part of this series, you go to the gym very early to set up for morning practice

sometimes, the four third years arrive at the same time but sometimes, only iwa comes

you noticed him put his bag down and help you with the nets before pushing the cart to finish the task for the morning

‘thank you, iwa-san!’

you thanked and he ruffled your hair

‘can you actually help me with my workout?’

you nodded and you knew his routine by now

as he got in position for a push up, you gently sat down on his back so he could start pushing up

you sat cross-legged and you counted every push up and held a timer so he could beat his previous record of 100 push ups in under 5 minutes

IWA IS LITERALLY ON ANOTHER LEVEL

once he hit 100, he collapsed on the floor and you stopped the timer at 4 minutes and 48 seconds

‘good job, iwa-san! new record!’

you cheered and he grumbled on the floor

you gently turned him over so he could lay on his back

he closed his eyes from the bright light of the gym and he raised his arms as his hands made a grabbing motion

‘hug. i want hug’

he whined and you fake gasped at this

‘iwa-san, i didnt know you could be so whiny’

‘huuggg~’

in my series, its canon that iwa is actually a whiny little babie despite that tough exterior and hes much more whinier than oikawa

you laughed before surrending, mumbling ‘yes, yes’

this wasnt the first time this happened since he asked you to do this before bc hes a touch starved babie and as a manager, you must give your team love

you climbed on him and laid your head on his chest while he mumbles happily with his arms going around you

‘just five minutes’

you offered and he said ‘mhm’

well, you both fell asleep and were woken up by scandalized and jealous yells from oikawa

to our baby libero watari

watari is actually the only player who has been to your house before

you made an off-handed comment of making bentos for the team again and he offered to come and help you make them

so here he was, standing in your kitchen, as you were cooking with him

you were chopping up vegetables and he was waiting for the eggs to boil so he was just stirring it slightly

‘wata-san, can you give me a bowl from the cabinet above you?’

he nodded and gave it to you so you could place the chopped carrots and onions in it

once the timer was done, he scooped out the eggs and placed them into an ice bowl so he could peel them later

you knew his favorite food was boiled eggs so you wanted to boil some so he could snack on them

‘can you peel one and see if theyre perfectly cooked, wata-san?’

his fingers skillfully rolled the egg on the table before peeling it effortlessly

he hummed as he chewed on the food

‘delicious?’

you asked and he turned to you, cheeks still full but he raised a thumbs up

you grinned and went back to chopping the scallions

‘actually, i didnt need any eggs for the dishes. i wanted you to snack on your favorites as i cook. its like payment for keeping me company’

his eyes shone and he hurriedly went to hug you tightly

‘i really appreciate everything youve done for us, for me. but i just want you to keep smiling okay? i know we’re a handful and we can get out of hand sometimes but you always keep us together. you must be stressed and there must be times you get angry with us and must’ve cried because of us but i hope you’ll still stay with us even through all that’

WATARI YOU MAKING ME C R Y 

lmao kindaichi’s made me laugh

so basically, we all know his famous haircut, right

but what if that was actually just a style hes had since he was young but he has naturally down hair?

the stuff he puts in it like this brand of gel is just so tough and sturdy that two washes of hair is the only thing that can get rid of it

even during practice when hes sweating the atlantic ocean, it somehow stays up

he puts gel on it and stuff after he showers to make it stick up and BOOM turnip head

but one morning, he,,,, wasnt turnip head

the boy woke up late and he didnt have time to perfect the sticking up so he went to school with his hair down and everything

you were already there since morning practice has started and kunimi told you that kindaichi texted him he would be late so you were just patiently waiting by the door for your classmate

but some guy just walked in

your eyes widened and you pulled their arm

‘um, this is for seijoh volley-’

then the words died in your mouth

‘yuu-kun,,,’

you stuttered and he placed his hands on his face to hide away

‘dont look y/n-chan!’

his shout attracted the others and then silence before the laughing and howling started

‘THESE FIRST YEARS I SWEAR!’

makki was on the floor, punching it as he laughed

kindaichi turned red and he was about to run out but you held on to him

‘i can fix it for you, yuu-kun. come with me?’

he nodded immediately and hurried away towards the back where the sun was just starting to rise

you rummaged through your gym bag and found the specific gel brand he uses 

kindaichi was SHOOK bc why the hell did you have it?

you noticed his shocked and confused look

‘i knew this would happen. we’ve facetimed before, remember? just in case this would happen, i brought backup’

his eyes glistened with tears of gratitude but you waved it away and started attempting to fix his hair

tbh you dont know why he did this hairstyle because his hair was really soft and nice and he still looked attractive either way

moving on to kunimi babie

lets face it, he probably doesnt sleep at all at night and he suffers from insomnia

and when he cant sleep, he bothers his friends

but he doesnt bother you though

which makes you sad bc you thought you made it clear that he could come to you if he was in need of something

you only found out after kindaichi accidentally blurted out during morning practice of how tired he is bc kunimi wouldnt stop talking to him at 2 in the morning

‘aki,,, you could’ve called me’

you gently said and kunimi scrunched his nose at how sad you sounded

‘you need your sleep, y/n’

‘but i want you to sleep too’

‘kindaichi’s been my contact since i was like 5 so-’

‘so you dont need me?’

your eyes watered and kunimi jumped, frantically fussing over you

‘okay, okay, y/n, okay. ill call you’

then as if they were never there, you cheered up and bounced happily

‘i’m expecting it, aki-kun!’

but at 1:43 in the morning, his finger hovered over the call button on your contact since he really didnt want to bother you

but he could already hear your whines in the morning

‘aki?’

he cursed when he heard your groggy voice

‘sorry y/n, ill hang up-’

‘no!’

you sat up, forcing to wake up

‘stay’

you mumbled and he made a sound of agreement

‘not tired?’

you asked

‘no. well, like im tired but i cant sleep, yknow?’

you laid on your bed with your cheeks puffed out, trying to think how to put him to sleep

‘we can just talk, aki’

‘about what?’

‘anything. just,,, talk to me. i want to know your favorite color, your favorite food, everything about you’

:( morning calls really hit different

last one is our mattsun babie

so like, mattsun is a TREE

im like 5′3 and hes like 6′2 so we a whole dwarf next to him

you are always dwarfed whenever you stand next to him and this little shite takes advantage of that and puts his elbow on top of your head

he likes to poke fun at you but you just pout bc you know hes all fun and games

‘hows the weather down there’

‘so mean, mattsun-san’

but his height did give him a special memory with you though

you were both left in the gym to clean up bc everyone had something to do like oiks had to go home bc takeru got sick and iwa also got sick and you just volunteered to clean up and mattsun stayed behind

you were sweeping the floor and you unconsciously started humming as you swept and started swaying a little

mattsun heard you as he pushed the carts and watched as you just swayed and twirled around and he found himself smiling at you

you noticed him stop in front of you and he bowed down, holding out a hand

‘may i take this dance, m’lady’

you laughed

‘what? whats going on?’

he softly held your hand and pulled you to him

‘you were dancing and i wanted to join you’

you nodded and looked up at him, eyes half-lidded

‘stand on my feet, chibi-chan. i can lead while you sing’

it was a random song you heard from the radio earlier but you complied while he moved with your feet on his

you giggled when he would lean down to softly kiss your forehead and shriek when he would unexpectedly dip you down

either way, at 8:34 PM, you and mattsun danced under the gym lights with no witness except you and him

ughh i really want seijoh now

you and the team share individual memories that are more special than the ones with the others bc its where you could actually be upfront with each other

its just a shame that there are 4 third years in the team that would eventually graduate and go their own separate ways after high school, leaving behind their underclassmen

they could just hope that those memories and special moments would remind them of who you were and how special you were to them since at the prime of their youth, you were their first true love

a/n: ngl i didnt expect to finish this so quick but im just in a really soft mood right now and this is to makeup for the fact that my update schedule could start becoming erratic due to my school so i hope you enjoyed this blurb!! and depending on my asks, there could only be one last part to this series unless someone requests for another specific scenario with the manager!!

[jisungsmochi]

rest your love - lee haechan

don’t worry!! i didn’t forget about this series hehe,, i personally really liked this one!! i’m probably going to try and write more often!

anyways pls enjoy,, i’ll link my masterlist for the other parts of this series (nct dream as ‘the vamps’ songs)

word count: 2.2k 

summary: “when the world gets loud, baby you can rest your love on me”

haechan never understood why people liked to be chased. he thought that all he needed to do was ask someone out and boom, a beautiful relationship. until he befriends you, and learns that sometimes people just need a shoulder to lean on, before they can rest their love on someone.

//

I see you move, so I do understand

Why you get attention?

I hear you talk, but I don't comprehend

Why I get no mention?

“it’s physically impossible to dislike me, i’m just a catch” haechan brags while walking to his first college class, his friends, renjun and jaemin trailing behind him.

“just because everyone liked you in high school, doesn’t mean people will in college. it’s a completely different ball game” renjun rolled his eyes at how overly optimistic and delusional his friend was being.

“ah let him live, he’ll find out soon enough” jaemin chuckles softly as he and renjun wave to haechan,  scurrying off to their own lectures.

haechan shrugs, not taking in any of his friends words. he stumbled into the classroom, scanning for an empty seat. he quickly made his way to a spare desk, pulling out all his materials. just as the tutor walked into the room, his eyes met those of, who he believed, was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. you flaunted your way to the last empty seat, which happened to be next to the awfully cheery boy, smiling at you.

you weren’t having the best day, immediately regretting your choice of a desk mate. as soon as you sat down, haechan was a blabbering mess. he shot questions left and right at you, despite the fact you barely responded to any of them. you just assumed he wanted to make friends fast, or he was just a chatterbox. “so how are you doing on this fine day?” he mutters to you, but received a stern glare in response. you tilted your head to the front of the room, zoning in on your tutor. haechan would lie if he said he didn’t feel slightly deflated. usually he had no problem making conversation with strangers. but you were so cold, so uninterested, it really hurt his ego. maybe renjun was right, not everyone would like him. but haechan was an unbelievably stubborn optimist. he was going to befriend you, no matter how long it took.

//

And you know, you know where to find me

Yeah, you know where to go when you're looking for love

And you know, you know where I'm hiding

Yeah, you know

it had been over three weeks since haechan first met you and you still wouldn’t budge. you only spoke to him during group tasks, other than that you continued to ignore his advances. haechan got the message loud and clear that you weren’t going to pay him attention. it took a toll on his own self confidence, until renjun gave him a stern talking to,

“god don’t let her get to your head, dude!! she’s awful for not wanting to be friends with you”

haechan pouted, “but she’s so pretty, i can’t just ignore her”

at that moment, he received a notification on his phone.

y/n: is this haechan? i think you took my notes by accident

his eyes widened, how did you even get his facebook account?

he scrambled around his room, looking into his backpack and surely enough, there were your notes, prettily written up.

haechan: hello! i do have your notes, i can meet you somewhere to hand it back? maybe the cafe? we can get something to eat!

renjun was now peering over haechan’s shoulder, too invested in this interaction.

y/n: no it’s fine, just give it to me next class, thanks

after reading your message, renjun bursted out laughing.

“dude that’s brutal, she’s something else” haechan fiddled with his phone, glaring at the other boy. he clicked on your profile, sending you a friend request as he scrolled through your posts. he saw that your friends had wished you a happy birthday, almost a year ago. he then realised it was in a few days...

“i have the perfect plan to get her to notice me” haechan smirks, renjun rolling his eyes,

“you’re ridiculous”

//

it was a friday afternoon, when haechan stumbled into class. you looked over at him, expecting some type of greeting, but you didn’t hear a peep from the boy.

strange, you thought to yourself.

as you were preparing for the lesson, haechan pulled something out of his bag. you looked over, noticing a small pink box now placed on your side of the table. you raised your eyebrow at him, in which he whispered,

“happy birthday, y/n”

your face froze. how did he know it was your birthday?

you looked back at the small box, slowly moving your hands to open it. to your surprise, there was a red velvet cupcake, decorated with a ton of rainbow sprinkles. there was a tiny picket that said:

“happy birthday, cutie!”

you couldn’t hide your smile, which only made haechan swoon even more. you weren’t the type to make a big deal out of your birthday, but this gesture from haechan truly made your day. you bit your lip softly, eyes meeting his.

“t-thankyou, haechan. i really appreciate this” you smiled at him softly, not caring that you were now on speaking terms with him.

“anything for you, y/n” he cheerfully responded, turning his attention to the front of the room.

maybe lee haechan was worth letting in...

//

the days following, haechan would spam you with random texts throughout the day. initially you would have been annoyed, but after his generous birthday gift, you started to enjoy his company. although you wouldn’t say it to his face, you silently appreciated him.

“how is my beautiful, y/n doing?” he smirked as he walked with you after class. he’d always compliment you, each time making you gush inside.

“i’m alright, have a ton of homework to do though” you sigh, thinking back to the stack of work you had on your desk.

“oh poor thing! do you want to copy my work? i have it here right now i ca-“

“no, haechan, it’s okay. if i need help, i’ll just...call you or something” you paused, looking over at the boy whose eyes just lit up like a christmas tree.

“of course you can call me! call me anytime you want!” he exclaimed. you shake your head softly at him as you both continued walking.

once haechan met up with renjun and jaemin again, he couldn’t stop gushing about you.

“...and then she said i could call her! well she said she’d call me, but same thing” he explained your interaction to his two friends as they were eating at a local diner.

“so romantic” renjun sarcastically comments, causing jaemin to elbow him slightly.

“i think it’s a good step! i mean atleast she’s talking to you now” jaemin chimed in, feeding into his friend’s cheerful nature.

“yeah! i have a lot of hope for us” haechan smiles to himself, in which jaemin and renjun looked over at eachother before rolling their eyes.

you did end up calling haechan that night, as you were stuck on the very last question of the homework.

“y/n, it’s hard to explain, let me just send you my answer” haechan insisted,

���no, i feel guilty” you sigh, placing down your pen.

“it’s really okay, i want to help you” you bit your lip, eventually giving in.

“okay fine, but i’ll owe you something in return” you agree, hoping whatever he wanted wouldn’t be too bad.

“hmmm how about going to the movies with me this weekend? i know you wanted to see the new zombie one that just came out” he suggested. although you were shocked he was practically asking you on a date, were more shocked he remembered you talking about this movie.

“do you really think that is proportionate to what you’re doing for me?” you roll your eyes playfully, finding his advances quite endearing.

“yep!! take it or leave it” you hesitated for a moment, what’s the worst that could happen?

“okay fine, you have yourself a deal” you replied. haechan quickly put himself on mute (or so he thought), letting out a loud ‘YES!’, before returning to the call. you had heard everything, softly chuckling to yourself.

he was pretty cute.

//

That when the stars go out, you can rest your love on me

And when the world gets loud, baby, you can rest your love on me

“that ending was terrible” you pouted as you left the cinema with haechan.

“it wasn’t so bad, it could have been worse” he shrugged, leading you to the next location.

“hm i guess so, by the way, where are we going anyway?” you questioned, walking alongside him, observing your surroundings.

“this cool burger place i found online, here i’ll show you some photos” he pulled out his phone, swiping through the photos. you nodded along, agreeing to let him lead the way.

“y/n? is that you?” you heard a deep voice call, you head shot up, so did haechan’s.

“who’s that?” your mouth went dry. your body froze up. why was he here? why did he have to call out to you?

“oh my god it is you! long time no see” the mysterious boy approached the pair of you, completely disregarding haechan’s existence. he noticed how uncomfortable you were, eyes flickering between the boy and you. he placed his arm loosely around your back, the other boy’s eyes following in suit.

“oh i see, you’re dating someone. dang, i guess i missed my shot. he doesn’t seem like your type” the boy scoffed, arms folded as he stared you both down.

“w-we have to go” you finally bring yourself to mutter, pulling haechan along with you.

“y/n who was that?” haechan kept repeating, which only made you want to cry.

“he’s my ex, okay? just take me home” you sniffled, haechan immediately became concerned. he didn’t ask any further questions, driving you straight back to your place.

as he reached your house, he looked over at you, tears brimming your eyes.

“i-i’m sorry that our day was cut short. i was really enjoying myself. my ex and i ended on pretty bad terms and i would just like some time alone right now, i hope you understand” you sniffled, which made haechan’s heart ache.

“you don’t have to apologise. you know where to find me if you need me. i’ll be waiting for you to open up to me one day, y/n. however long it takes” he assures you, leaving you with a warm feeling in your stomach. you just nodded back at him, making your way into your house.

haechan sat in his car for a while, wishing he could take away all your pain.

//

you invited haechan to meet you at the local park. with no further questions, he rushed out of his room, eager to see you again. you waited patiently on the small bench, swinging your legs back and forth. you heard heavy footsteps approach, your eyes meeting those of the boy who radiated happiness.

“are you alright?” haechan starts as he takes a seat next to you, leaving a small gap between you both.

“y-yeah, i’m ready to tell you everything” you began,

“he and i ‘dated’ two years ago. i say ‘dated’ because well, i thought we were, but turns out he was just another player and i was just another pawn in his little game. it was my first relationship too, messed me up pretty bad. that’s why i tend to keep to myself, not really letting others in too much. he made me feel like every guy who gave me attention just wanted me for their own selfish needs” you sigh, eyes avoiding haechan’s. he wanted to hold your hand, but opted not to.

“he’s an asshole, you didn’t deserve that. i-i could treat you so much better i promise-“

“haechan, c-can we just slow things down?” you finally made eye contact with him, his face contorting into a confused expression.

“i know you like me, and i would be lying if i said i didn’t have a slight interest in you too. but i don’t think i’m ready for a relationship yet” you admit, worried for his reaction. but to your surprise, he didn’t feel sad or dejected at all. instead he smiled widely at you, leaning in closer.

“i’ll go as slow as you want. you can rest your love on me, whenever you need. i’m just glad to hear you like me too” he batted his eyelids, making you softly chuckle.

“thankyou” you whispered to him, moving closer so that your shoulders touched. the rest of the day was filled with random activities from the arcade, to a bike ride along the park’s trail and finally dinner. haechan came to realise that being with somebody wasn’t black and white. there was a grey area that lied in between. he didn’t care how long he needed to wait, all he knew was that he finally got you to like him. and that was enough to make him the happiest man alive.

[wonkasmissstarshine]

Little Accidents {Willy Wonka x OC}

Based off this request from anonymous: Okay, I just needed to see if you where I really like your writings! Could you do a Willy x rose fluff where rose had a really bad accident after she fell down some stairs on accident nothing really bad happened but she was like to weak to get up so Willy got her everything they needed and he gave her cuddles and it’s just one big fluff pls 🥺

Summary: Rose accidentally takes a fall down some stairs, spraining her ankle (thankfully no serious injuries), and Willy makes sure she’s well taken care of.

Tagging: @holdmeicant @willymywonkers (My taglist from my series is different than my tagging list from my oneshot stuff so if you’re on my series taglist and want to be on my oneshot taglist, please let me know)

The snow was falling pretty lightly that day, but it was still enough that it covered the ground with a thin white sheet, and the ground was still slick beneath the feets of pedestrians. That didn’t put a damper on Willy and Rose’s plans for the day, though. 

Priscilla invited them to have lunch with her. The Wonkas couldn’t refuse an invitation from their best friend, so they agreed. Now, maybe it was because Priscilla’s front steps were a little rickety, maybe it was because the light snowfall was making them slicker than usual, or maybe it’s because Rose didn’t pick the appropriate shoes for today.

The first time she slipped, was going up the stairs. Her foot jerked to the left, and her stomach flipped with fright. Willy was right behind her and noticed the slip of Rose’s foot. “Starshine, are you alright?” He asked.

“Don’t worry” Rose said. “I’m fine” She waved him off. “My foot just slipped a little and it spooked me”

“Okay” Willy said slowly. It was incredibly slippery and the last thing he wanted was for his wife to slip and fall down the stairs. He didn’t want her getting hurt. “Just be careful”

Rose turned to him and smiled. “I suppose you better take my hand and hold on tight. You know, so I don’t slip and fall?” She held out her open palm, wiggling her fingers.

“My lovely starshine,” Willy cooed to her. He grabbed her hand, holding it tightly in his hand. “You never need to ask twice when it comes to holding hands”

Together, very slowly and carefully, they made their way up the remaining steps. Priscilla came to fetch them when she heard the knock on the door. She greeted them both with affectionate hugs and then brought them inside the house, where a lovely meal was waiting for them.

******

Now, going up the steps, Rose only had a little slip of the feet, but at least she didn’t fall. It was going down the steps when she slipped again and this time, she took a tumble down the steps. 

Luckily, she didn’t fall in a way where she would hit her head. She slipped in a way where she landed on her butt and slid down the stairs like a slide. It still hurt, as she felt each step jab into her back. Her ankle also throbbed, and Rose had no doubts that she sprained it.

Willy was still inside Priscilla’s house when Rose slipped and fell. It was when he heard her panicked shriek that he came bursting through the door. When he saw her on the ground, wincing in pain and grasping at her ankle, that’s when he went into his own little panic.

“Starshine, you’re hurt!” Willy stated, frantic with worry. He rushed down the steps, nearly slipping and falling himself. He kneeled beside her and grasped her face in his hands. He gazed over her face, checking for any knicks, cuts, bruises, or the smallest drop of blood. The only thing he could see on her face were the tears falling from her eyes.

“It’s okay. I’m here. Now, tell me where it hurts”

“My ankle. I think I sprained it” Rose managed to say. “And I hit my back along the steps”

Priscilla, having heard what happened from inside, joined the two of them with water and ibuprofen in hand. “Here you go, Rose” She said, dropping the tablet into her friend’s hand. “That should help relieve the pain, at least until you get home”

Rose managed to give her an appreciative smile before popping the pill into her mouth, and making it go down with the glass of water Priscilla had provided. “Do you think you can get up and walk?” Priscilla wondered.

“I can carry her” Willy decided. 

Rose shook her head. “No, cocoa bean. It’s too slippery. What if you end up falling?”

“The elevator is right there, Rose, and then when we get back to the factory, it’ll be a short walk back to our house” Carefully, Willy scooped Rose into his arms and lifted her off the ground. Rose held onto him tightly, the warmth radiating from Willy already making her feel better. “It’ll be alright my beautiful and bright starshine. I’ll take good care of you when we get home, I promise”

******

“We’re home now, starshine” Willy announced to Rose when they walked in through the front door. “Let’s get you into bed, and then I’ll make you some soup”

Rose hummed in approval. “That would be nice, cocoa bean. Thank you”

They made it to the bedroom. Willy placed Rose into the bed so that she was sitting on it, legs dangling off the side. He was treating her as if she was a fragile box of glass. But to him, when she was hurt like this, she was, and he didn’t want her hurt any further. “Let’s get your shoes off”

“Just be careful of my sprained ankle” Rose warned him.

“I will, I promise” Willy first took off the shoe that was on her uninjured foot. Once that shoe was off, it came time to take the other one off. Willy tried taking it off Rose as slowly and carefully as he could. Whenever he saw Rose wince or make a noise, he would stop. Then, he would make sure that she was okay before continuing the process of removing her shoe. 

Both shoes were now off Rose’s feet. She tried swinging her legs over onto the bed, but Willy stopped her. “Don’t lay down just yet” Willy told her. He went over to the closet, grabbing a few extra pillows and a thick blanket. He went back over to the bed, items in hand. He placed a few pillows against the headboard, and then he placed a couple more at the foot of the bed.

“Okay, starshine. You can lay down now” With Willy’s help, Rose positioned herself onto the bed so that her back was against the headboard pillows and her ankle was elevated on the pillows at the foot of the bed. Once she was comfortable, Willy placed the thick blanket over her. “Are you comfy enough?” Willy asked.

“I am, cocoa bean” Rose nodded.

Willy smiled. “Good” He leaned down and gave Rose a soft kiss on the forehead. “I’ll go make you some soup”

******

Willy carried some chicken noodle soup on a tray, and he brought it into the bedroom. Rose sat up a bit straighter when she saw him, groaning a bit from her aching back.

“Please, don’t over exert yourself” Willy pleaded with her. He sat beside her on the edge of the bed, placing the soup down on the bedside table. “I don’t want you hurting anymore than you already are”

“That soup smells really good” Rose mentioned.

“I hope it tastes as good as it smells. I’m not used to making anything that isn’t candy or chocolate” Willy grabbed the spoon and dipped it into the soup, capturing broth, noodles, and chicken into the piece of silverware. He placed his other hand under the spoon to stop any drops from splashing to the floor. Then, he blew on the soup before bringing it up to Rose’s lips.

“Open up, starshine” He instructed her. Rose’s lips parted, allowing Willy to push the spoon past her lips and into her mouth. Rose swallowed the spoonful of soup. She moaned at the feeling of the warm broth travelling down her esophagus and into her stomach.

“That tastes absolutely wonderful, cocoa bean” Rose told him.

“Thank you” Willy smiled. He continued to feed her the soup until there was nothing left in the bowl. He picked up the tray with the empty bowl and dirtied spoon on it to take it into the kitchen.

“Willy” Rose said his name, reaching out to gently grab his arm.

“What is it?” Willy asked softly.

“The dirty dishes can wait. I just want you to cuddle with me right now”

“But, starshine, you’re hurt and I--”

“Cocoa bean, you could never do anything to hurt me. I’m just asking you to cuddle with me. Nothing else. The cuddles will make me feel better”

“If that’s what you want” Willy gave in to her wishes. He walked around to the other side of the bed. He climbed into the bed. Willy wrapped his arms around her in a way that he wouldn’t cause her discomfort or pain. With his arms wrapped around her, Rose also wrapped an arm around and let her head rest on his chest.

“Better, starshine?”

“Everything always feels better as long as I’m in your arms” Rose tilted her head up so that she was looking up at Willy. His head was already peering down, looking at her. “You know what else helps me feel better?”

Willy smiled and giggled. “What would that be?”

“Your soft lips against mine” Rose reached up and cupped Willy’s face. “Will you kiss me?”

Willy cupped Rose’s face in return. “You never have to ask me twice, starshine”

Their lips met in a slow, loving, soft and gentle kiss. Willy’s kiss made Rose forget about every ache and pain that she had at the moment. His kiss was like a medicine that could treat every injury or illness. His kiss gave her a rush of euphoria that could heal anything and everything.

Once the kiss ended, Willy nuzzled his face against Rose’s, closing his eyes, savouring her warmth. “I love you, Rose”

Rose smiled and closed her eyes, content with the moment before her. “I love you too, Willy”

[rvmmm21]

. you know who i am? part end .

*yawn* i can now sleep for a while. thanks guys! if you read this all the way through, can i get some pocky pls? i’m craving it right now.

part 1′s here.

part 2′s here.

[badgirl/bully!joohyun x freshman!seungwan]

...

Seungwan, the poor fool, would never have guessed.

She thought she was in deep? Hah! Joohyun was yelling at her to stop wading in the kiddie pool and come join her in the deep end.

If only she’d been able to see past her own emotions to realise it was Joohyun who had started this whole mess by making them partners all those weeks ago.

~~~~~~~~~~

Seulgi, like any sane human being, disapproves greatly when Seungwan lays her options down on the table one morning.

“Mmph!” she grunts, shaking her head and hastily swallowing the last mouthful of sashimi before staring at her delusional friend, “no, absolutely freakin no way.”

“I-I mean it’s more like paraphrasing…” Seungwan offers, shrinking into herself when she sees the other girl grow more frustrated by the second.

“Stop it, Seungwan,” she interjects, massaging her temples to soothe the ache, “you literally told me you were planning to ‘lift quoted texts and mush them together’. I mean, come on, that’s plagiarism plain and simple. Stop trying to defend it.”

“B-but Seul, I don’t have a choice!”

“Really? Cheating? Hello, is Son Seungwan home? This isn’t you, Wan-ah, you sound crazy! And so is she! And that’s literally – ah wait, no that makes it perfect… aish forget I even said anything.”

Seungwan mirrors her concern. “I think she might have actually made me insane, Seul. I’ve never thought about cheating… ever!”

It’s true. Seungwan’s always been a tucked-in shirt, pulled up socks, neatly ironed uniform kind of girl. She currently feels like the biggest hypocrite. Seulgi’s scoff triggers her rambling again.

“I-I don’t know though, it’s like��� it’s like the more we work together, the more I wanna be together! A-and not even like be together as in girlfriends or anything… just, I dunno, spend time with her. I wanna be around her constantly… and stuff. I think I might fail this semester cos I can’t stop thinking about her. But… I have to do better, cause if I fail, she fails. A-and I’ll never let that happen.”

Seungwan’s expression screams ‘whipped’, and it pleads for some sort of reassurance, but Seulgi’s fresh out of stock at the moment. She’s too shocked by what she’s just heard her twit of a roommate tell her. When she finally finds her tongue, it’s not to give her friend the reassurance she so desperately seeks, but to simply ask.

“But do you want to?”

Huh?! The girl screams in her head. Do I want to what? Plagiarise? Have a cup of tea? Tell Joohyun to stay ten feet away from me because whenever she’s near I just want to grab her by the face and kiss her silly?! Or perhaps I need to be demanding she pay my hospital bills because my heart is –

“Be her girlfriend.”

Oh, wow, blunt. But when you put it like that…

Slowly, Seungwan looks up at Seulgi; looking like she’d been caught with her hand in the metaphorical cookie jar; guilty as hell.

“… mm… can you repeat the question…?”

~~~~~~~~~~

The flip side of the coin isn’t looking so shiny, either.

Joohyun finds herself all caught up in thoughts of Son Seungwan; the girl she’s wanted since day one, but the girl who also managed to properly steal her unguarded heart while she was busy acting all aloof and in control. In control was something she definitely wasn’t, right now. And as much as she should be out, guns a blazing, to retrieve what’s been stolen from her, she can’t help but not want it back. Somehow, she feels as though it’s safer in Seungwan’s hands.

Clumsy, weak-hearted girls were certainly in fashion, and Joohyun is dead-set on getting hers.

“Yah!” Sooyoung swats at the hand that’s just stolen her one of her last Pocky sticks, “that was the longest one! I was saving that till last!”

Joohyun ignores her, thoughtfully nibbling on the chocolate coated biscuit as she contemplates her next move. She glances over at the other girl upside down on the bed, blocking random Instagram followers with her feet up against the wall and an open packet of crisps by her head.

“Jennie,” she deadpans, “do you think I should do it?”

The girl barely takes a second to look back at Joohyun before swiftly pinching the actual last Pocky out of Sooyoung’s grasp. They both pay no mind to the frustrated yelling from their flabbergasted friend as she storms off into the kitchen to throw away the empty box. She leaves them in peace.

“I dunno,” Jennie shrugs coolly, returning to her blocking spree, “but you better stop playing with your food. Didn’t your mum tell you it’s rude?”

Joohyun rolls her eyes. “Yah, I told you, I’m not playing. I don’t want anyone else thinking they have a chance with her.”

“So do it,” Sooyoung re-enters the room, already chomping on a fresh box of snacks, “stake your claim. Get her before those others do.”

Joohyun perks up, a glare frosting over her pretty face. “What others?”

Sooyoung smiles at Jennie, knowing their lovesick friend has fallen for it.

“Oh you know,” she cracks on, “those hordes of people I saw outside class once. They were all lining up to confess to your  Seungwan, love letters and everything.”

Joohyun realises she could tackle Sooyoung right now, but she chooses not to. Instead she turns to face the girl who looks smug as ever with a mouthful of crisps.

“Ha ha, very funny,” she scoffs, “oh yeah, and I lied. I did drink your strawberry milk the other day.”

Sooyoung’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline. “Hyun!! I knew it wasn’t Haetnimie!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Seungwan often found herself dreaming about it; as if she couldn’t decide whether it had really happened or not.

The first time Joohyun kissed her.

…

Joohyun scans the landscape for her study buddy today. Strategically situated in the furthest, quietest corner the bustling café has to offer, she takes impatient glances down at her phone set face up on the small, round table. Late, as usual, she thinks, rolling her eyes as she flicks her phone screen on and off for the sake of something to do.

Finally, her impatience is fizzled away by the tinkling of the small bell at the stop of the door, indicating a new patron.

Late and clumsy, more like, she corrects herself, a smile crawling up her face as she watches the harassed-looking girl spot her with an embarrassed wave and begin to make her way over, books cradled in arms and a tube of string cheese between her teeth. Joohyun can’t stop a giggle when Seungwan thinks she’s knocked someone’s latte off their table with her bag strap. She bows over and over, spluttering disjointed apologies only to find out the cup is still perfectly on the table and the people are now looking at her in pure amazement.

Oh god, another one for the books then, Seungwan sighs, turning her beet-red face away from them and slinking on.

Eventually, she’s settled down across Joohyun, who’s been waiting, she realises in horror as she checks the time, for 15 whole minutes.

“Sorry I’m late,” her breathless smile and tired eyes have Joohyun subconsciously softening at her sincerity, “I didn’t get much sleep last night, and oh–! Have you eaten, unnie?”

Seungwan digs into her school bag, and, with a happy little ‘ta-da!’, pulls out a nicely cling wrapped, homemade oatmeal cookie.

“I decided to bake, instead,” she cheerfully chirps, breaking off a portion of the baked treat and offering the bigger half to her raven haired senior, “I bake these a lot, you should try!”

Disappointment nudges Seungwan’s heart when Joohyun glares at her, suddenly aware of the sting in her bicep from still holding part of her cookie out in front of her. She tries not to let it show, but the disappointment quickly turns into something else when she sees that all too familiar smirk flower on Joohyun’s pretty lips.

“You should feed me.”

Seungwan shivers at the expectant stare she’s fixed with while the other girl remains composed as always. Annoying. Before she has time to respond, her knee collides with the underside of the table, loudly clinking the metal cutlery and causing a few heads to turn. It takes everything in her not to look down where she just knows Joohyun’s foot is ever so lightly grazing her pant leg.

Joohyun blinks innocently at Seungwan’s rapidly reddening face as she’s forced to apologise profusely yet again, this time for something she’s actually done.

“Unnie…” she croaks, trying to calm her racing heart.

“What?” Joohyun cocks her head. She promptly picks the cookie out of the girl’s fingers and takes a bite, “serves you right for keeping me waiting.”

Seungwan lets out a breathy groan and begins flipping the pages to where she’s bookmarked.

“Mm, this is really good, Seungwan.”

Cadbury eyes light up at the praise and Seungwan stops annotating to cap her highlighter.

“R-really? You like it? Oh that’s great news! I’ll make you some more! I can!”

Joohyun chuckles and nods. Seungwan’s puppy eagerness melts her more than she cares to admit. The way any sort of positive affirmation she throws her way has her excitedly tossing aside whatever she’s doing. Not that it matters anyway, Joohyun’s more than happy to take rightful precedence over stupid assignments and due dates.

“Good. Best I’ve eaten in a while.”

…

“So that’s what I’ve interpreted here. Going off what he’s written in this paragraph, I think he genuinely believes he’s right.”

It happens somewhere between ‘genuinely’ and ‘right’.

Smooth and secretive.

Like the hushed whisper over the din of a crowded room.

Fingers tug at her collar and a pair of lips press into hers from across the table. She’s caught completely unawares, and Joohyun’s lips are gone before she can even get used to them. She watches in shock as her senior sits back down, not even giving her a second look as she returns to annotating the next paragraph.

Seungwan can’t believe Joohyun’s ignorant to the fact that she’s just unfolded her origami heart like no one has before.

~~~~~~~~~~

The blaring of Jessie J’s ‘Price Tag’ piercing her peaceful Sunday morning has Seungwan flailing to grab her phone off the table top. She has to swipe three times after playing hot potato with the device before she finally manages to answer the call.

“Hello,” the screen is cold against her ear as she groggily answers.

“Oh hello? Seungwan? Did I wake you? I’ll call later – ”

Joohyun’s husky voice registers in her brain and she shoots up so fast into a sitting position she feels slightly light-headed.

“No no no!” she exclaims a little too enthusiastically, running a hand through the tangled mess on her head and palming swollen eyes, “I’m awake it’s fine. We can talk. Is… is everything okay?”

“Yes, it’s okay, don’t worry.”

Joohyun sounds like she’s smiling over the phone, but Seungwan doesn’t get her hopes up. The other girl continues. “Yeah, probably should’ve texted you earlier to tell you I was coming by your dorm, but I was picking something up at the shops anyway so I thought I’d drop by and try my luck.”

“Oh, I see,” Seungwan isn’t sure if she wants to ask if this is about what happened at their latest study session but her nerves dampen a little when Joohyun chips in.

“You left your pen at the café so I’m just returning it.”

Ah, okay, Seungwan thinks. She’s weirdly upset at the fact that Joohyun’s pretending nothing had happened between them. Perhaps she toys with people this way. Perhaps Seungwan’s just another notch in her string of empty loves. Irritation pinches into her chest at the prospect. Couldn’t miss high-and-mighty take into account her feelings for once? It’s not like she could just change Seungwan’s life like this and not expect to take an ounce of responsibility.

It’s absolutely unfair. She almost wants to scream into her phone, but Joohyun’s voice stops her before she can even open her mouth.

“… oh and. We need to talk.”

Okay, there it is. Commanding and concise; what Bae Joohyun does best. She doesn’t know if she should be jumping for joy or locating the nearest exit, but she nonetheless finds herself hastily shuffling to her wardrobe to throw on the first pair of trousers and hoodie she finds.

“Uh sure, unnie… give me ten minutes? I’ll be down. Did you want to meet at the shops?”

“No it’s okay. Just meet me downstairs, I’m waiting.”

And she hangs up.

…

With how fast Seungwan brushes her teeth and gets herself dressed, it should be in the Guinness Book of World Records for the quickest thing anyone’s ever done for love. There’s no time to fiddle around with contacts today so she rummages through her drawer for her only pair of chrome steel-rimmed glasses.

She brushes past Seulgi who’s sitting on the sofa having breakfast. The girl’s eyes suspiciously follow her harried friend as she rushes out the door, crinkling her nose at the distinct waft of perfume that lingers after she’s gone.

Seungwan spots Joohyun leaning over the railing outside her dorm. She pauses before pushing the huge glass doors open, shaking her head with a sigh. How does someone make mum jeans and a white t-shirt look Vogue-worthy?

Joohyun sports the faintest smile when she sees Seungwan jogging over to her; her pin-rolled sweatpants, fluffy Uniqlo hoodie and unruly bed hair making her look nothing short of adorable. Dumb little sleepyhead, Joohyun mumbles just out of earshot.

“I’m glad I woke you up bright and early,” she chuckles at the girl who’s bent over next to her, clutching the railing to catch her breath.

Joohyun gets a quick ruffle of soft, caramel hair before Seungwan straightens up. She holds the black ballpoint up to the other girl, who accepts it with a small thankful nod.

“Thanks, unnie,” Seungwan says, not really interested in the returned possession. She really wants to ‘talk’. “So uh, you wanted to… talk?”

“Ah, yes. Um…”

Joohyun blinks a couple times, seemingly at a loss for words. She seems not  to know what to do with herself, darting her gaze here and there, lightly rapping her fingers against the cool metal bar. Her sudden awkwardness is more than justified, though. After all, confessing to the victim of her bullying has never been something to cross Joohyun’s mind. For once, she’s the one tripping over herself. For once, she’s the one caught completely off-guard.

Even the gentle morning breeze feels awkward. Seungwan starts to think that ‘shopping’ is looking more and more like a cover up for something else.

She inwardly beams at the way Joohyun currently embodies everything she’s felt this entire time. However, she decides if she is ever going stand up for what she believes in, it’s now. Taking a deep breath, she mentally thanks Seulgi for her advice on how to appear like less of an idiot in front of the person you’re deeply in love with.

“Unnie,” she begins, “I need you to tell me honestly. What are we?”

Joohyun opens her mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. She’s still at a loss for how she could possibly convey what she wanted to in this moment. Goddamn, she curses, why can’t I just go back to bullying this little nerd? When did life screw me over like this?

She stays silent as Seungwan so confidently lays the cards out for her.

“Because I know how I feel… and…” her tone falters momentarily, her natural awkward self threatens to barge in again but she manages to shut the door on it.

“… and I… I like you.”

The confession is significantly quieter than anything she said before, but Joohyun hears it through a megaphone. Her eyebrows arch up and she turns to face the girl who’s had the courage to do what she’s wanted to do all along.

“Seungwan…”

She looks at the other girl who’s silent; waiting.

“I-I don’t know how to…”

“Then don’t.”

Her breath hitches when Seungwan’s fingers interruptedly caress her pink cheek. The shorter girl slowly leans in, and Joohyun gladly lets her take the lead.

Eyelashes flutter and the world stops altogether, when Seungwan presses her soft, pillowy lips to hers in a positively heart-attack inducing kiss. It’s tender, luscious and Joohyun can’t get enough. She takes in everything she feels; the tip of Seungwan’s nose gently poking her cheek, her fringe tickling just below her eyebrows and the hand now resting on the small of her back, drawing her in for more.

A shared cluster of fireworks go off behind both their eyelids.

Seungwan pulls away first, gracefully meeting the gaze she was once terrified of. Joohyun’s smiling now, and she doesn’t miss the way it reaches her eyes. It’s much easier to speak her feelings when she isn’t being shot at with death glares.

Yet she suddenly feels shy, withdrawing completely and scratching nervously at her arm. “Unnie… I was wondering if I could uh… you know…”

Of course Joohyun knows. The tables turn yet again when the elder girl finds herself a new assertiveness to wear after that kiss. Sweet lips curl into a knowing smirk, much like the one she usually exhibits. “Be my girlfriend?”

Fresh rose petals sprinkle over Seungwan’s cheeks as she meekly nods.

Joohyun laughs, grabbing the surprised girl by the wrist and melding their bodies together, hand cradling Seungwan’s nape.

“Silly freshman,” she says fondly, leaning in to playfully peck her on the nose. “You were always mine.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Seungwan flings her pen into space for the umpteenth time today when Joohyun leans over from her position on the bed and gives her a kiss. She should be used to it by now, but it’s just something about those mysterious eyes and the velvety voice that she can never quite acclimatise to. It’s something about that specific shade of maraschino cherries on Joohyun’s lips, and the fact they taste even sweeter when they’re pressed against hers. Everything’s too sudden, and it has her light-headed and reeling each and every goddamned time. Grumbling, the younger girl squirms around for a while before she sprawls out with the fattest heart eyes, muffled thuds from socked feet kicking a tantrum into Joohyun’s wooden floorboards.

“Ahhhh unnieeee,” she squeals, wriggling around like a deranged worm, “please stop distracting me, we have to get this done!”

Joohyun smiles at how she looks like a kindergartener who’s just had their lollipop taken away. You know the one, when they’re all grumpy but so cute to watch.

“Get it done then,” she says unhelpfully down at Seungwan’s red face, grinning at the exaggerated sigh she receives for it.

“You’re not helpinggg-ahhhhhh,” Seungwan rolls around helplessly, and Joohyun merely laughs at her partner turned human mop.

“It’s not my job to help, Wannie. I’m the bully, you get bullied. That’s the deal, so don’t you forget it.”

Pft, yeah sure. This time it’s Seungwan who can’t stop the budding laughter as she recalls the past few weeks with this girl.

It takes about five seconds for Seungwan to un-starfish herself and drag her upper half up into a sitting position again; her mouth may say stop, but those rosy cheeks, that sulky school-girl pout and messy hair absolutely begs for another.

“Only joking, freshman. I’ll help you. But only cause you’re cute. And you’ll owe me, big time,” she teases before darting her eyes to the corner behind the other girl.

Seungwan’s eyes light up at the offer. “Thank you, unnie. Let’s get star– ”

“Hey Wan, what’s that over there?”

“Huh?”

A teasing smirk and a fraction of a second later, Joohyun has Seungwan staring up at the ceiling after her spine does a 404 error, rendering her a boneless heap of lovesick gurgles and deserted thoughts.

And it was only a kiss!

“Unnieeee!!”

The never peaceful study session dissolves into a small insult battleground; playful, of course.

The fun might’ve just begun, but their open books and un-analysed literature stare up at them in disbelief; forgotten yet again.

Joohyun’s had enough of watching from the clouds and proceeds to get off the bed to join Seungwan on the floor. They tussle around for a while, before Joohyun’s hovering above her. She’s just staring down, something that happens so often but never fails to make Seungwan squirm in discomfort, all shy and self-conscious. Joohyun doesn’t care, though. She simply smiles; she can ignore all the playground insults hurled at her, the tiny fists half-heartedly pummelling at her arms in an attempt to get her to move off. Hell, she can even ignore Mr. Lee’s stern warnings about failing the class if she keeps turning up late, or Sooyoung’s hollow threats at tattooing ‘I’m a thief’ across her forehead when she’s asleep unless she stops eating her food when she’s not around.

There’s a lot Joohyun can ignore, and plenty more she’ll choose to in the future.

But she can never ignore the girl who clumsily left her taro tea fingerprints all over her heart.

[whenallelsefails-eatpie]

Finally Answering Questions for y’all

Q1: How tall or short do you wish you were?

I used to wish I was taller because I already am tall for an (AGAB)female (5′8 1/2) but then I learned about platforms so. 

4: What was your favorite video game growing up?

Monkey Ball or Sonic Adventure Escape the City...I only had a Gamecube.

6: If you had a warning label, what would yours say?

Warning: Uses humor as a defense mechanism but will quickly become extremely invested in you  and give you immense amounts of unending love if they vibe w you

8: What is your Greek personality type? [Sanguine, Phlegmatic, Choleric, or Melancholic]

Melancholic

9: Are you ticklish?

extremely, on my back and sides (use this information wisely. I take no responsibility for involuntarily punching anyone who tickles me)

10: Are you allergic to anything?

absolutely nothing, allergies are to weed out the weak. (jkjk no eugenics here sis you slay that epipen)

11: What’s your sexuality?

~ pansexual  ~ (prefer agab [not cis, those are two different things] females)

12: Do you prefer tea, coffee, or cocoa?

tea, then coffee with cocoa. I don’t enjoy cocoa or coffee as much separately.

37: What is your eye color?

hazel/green 

38: Introvert or extrovert?

I’m ambiverted but lean toward introversion. 

44: Do you like tattoos and piercings?

oh yeah absolutely, I personally just prefer that the tattoos aren’t on your face.  Or with piercings that they don’t take up so much of your face that I can’t see what you really look like.

54: What color would you like your hair to be right now?

pink, red, or platinum 56: Something that calms you down?

reading, playing instruments, taking a bath, cooking or baking

57: Have any mental disorders?

yessir. ADD, anxiety. and I used to have really bad depression. Now my depression is simply manageable lol. 

73: What is your MBTI type?

INFP (enneagram 4)

86: Can you run a mile within ten minutes?

surprisingly yes, will I come close to passing out? Maybe. But I can.

87: Do your socks always match?

never, I hate matching my socks unless the socks are funky and need to match to give them the biggest bang for their buck. 

92: A store you hate?

Dick’s sporting goods. I have been dragged around that place for hours and absolutely nothing there interests me. (edit: I found a beanie that I liked but my previous opinion still stands)

93: How many cups of coffee can you drink in one day?

start counting and never stop. If you mean in terms of actual measurements like cups/ounces, I can drink 20. What can I say I’m from New England.

94: Would you rather be able to fly or read minds?

Definitely fly because that might help lessen my fear of heights

95: Do you like to wear camo?

literally shoot me if you ever see me wearing camo. please, I beg you. that will be me at my lowest point 

96: Winter or summer?

Autumn. Next question.

97: How long can you hold your breath for?

3-4 minutes. It’s all that breath control from musical theatre.

99: Someone you look up to:

Jughead Jones. Yes I said that, fight me. He is completely himself and he allows the different facets of his personality to shine through to people that he loves and cares about. He is loyal and caring but also unique and resilient. Plus his fave food is burgers which is an instant win for me.

100: A store you love?

Hot Topic, Barnes and Nobles, Savers or any thriftstore 

102: Where do you live?

New England bb (; gettin that dark academia aesthetic straight from the source

104: What is your favorite mineral or gem?

Amber

105: Do you drink milk?

You mean out of the glass? Like a psychopath? Like a serial killer? Absolutely not

106: Do you like bugs?

I do! Except for spiders and mosquitoes (although I’m warming up to spiders)

109: Can you draw:

Eh yeah ig, well enough. I draw realistically but I’m not great at animated style. 

111: A question you hate being asked?

“Are you a boy or a girl?” (like why? does it personally affect you? are you planning on boning me? if not then buzz off)

113: Do you like the sound of waves at the beach?

Yes, but only at night when the beach is quiet. I’m not a huge fan of the beach during the day

114: Do you prefer cloudy or sunny days?

Rainy or sunny. Don’t go givin me the clouds with none of the drizzle.

119: Favorite thing about a person: 

Personality first and foremost. Humor and kindness. But physically; their smile and mannerisms. 

120: Fruits or vegetables?

Veggies (or berries i like berries)

121: Something you want to do right now:

Run away... ahah. But in all honesty I would love to go mushroom foraging rn, or possibly go on an adventure. Maybe go put on clothing meant for an entirely different time period and run around Target idk.

123: Sweet or sour foods?

Definitely not sour I hate sour. Spoonfeed me wasabi, that I can handle. But if you make me eat a Warheads I will cry. 

129: What would you want written on your tombstone?

I personally have a lot of problems with the funeral industry, so I would rather not take up space and rot preservation chemicals into the earth. But if I had an interim tombstone with no body underneath, it would read “Live Laugh Love” bc ~irony~

131: What is something you love but also hate about yourself?

that I’m very individualistic and stubborn

132: Do you smile with your teeth showing for pictures?

Yes absolutely, that’s what they’re there for.

134: Do you like roller coasters?

Do I like feeling like I’m about to full send through the crust of the earth and die? No. No I do not. (I am a simple person, I go to carnivals for the food and to feed off terror.) 139: What nicknames do you have/have had?

Cookie

141: Have you ever seen a therapist/shrink?

OH YEAH absolutely, I am a repressed gen z homosexual raised in a homophobic religious atmosphere, I am practically born with a therapist assigned to me.

142: Would you say you are a good or bad influence to others?

Definitely good -_- unfortunately. Catch me bein the mom friend.

143: Do you prefer giving or receiving gifts/help?

I prefer giving, but I am learning how to recieve. 

144: What makes you angry

People who live their lives in willful ignorance despite the endless resources available to them and let that ignorance hurt others.

146: Do you prefer boys, girls, and/or non-binaries?

All of em. Gimme em all. I don’t like boys as much currently but I would still probably lay my life on the line for some. 

147: Are you androgynous?

Yes. It’s more fluid than it is being in consistent limbo between masc and femme. Usually I’m androgynous but I often swing wildly between both ends of that socially perceived spectrum. 148: Favorite thing about yourself physically?

My hands or smile(product of bracesTM). But I have been told I have nice hands. 

149: Favorite thing about your personality:

I am a very strong blend of wise and class clown. I can do em both, I can do em well, and I can do em whenever. I also care a lot about others but I don’t change myself to be accepted by them. 

150: Name three people you would like to talk to right now in person.

MLK Jr. --> I want to gain perspective on some of the current global issues. Jesus --> I’ve got a lot of questions for that dude. JRR Tolkien bc he’s incredible or Joan of Arc for the same reason

151: If you could go back into time and live in one era, which would you choose?

Ooh well, as a woman not many eras are desirable. But um probably either the 70s or Ancient Greece

154: Do you like to kiss others’ foreheads or hands for platonic reasons?

YES. GIMME UR FINGERS > i meant that to sound much less threatening than it did but my statement still stands. 155: Do you like to play with others’ hair?

Yes it’s literally one of my favorite things to do. I hab empty lap. *pat pat* U may lay your head on it and watch Rilakkuma and Kaoru with me while I play with your hair. pls. 157: Something that makes you nervous/anxious:

Women..... That’s it. That’s the tweet.

158: Biggest lie you have ever told:

That I am not a member of the alphabet mafia. (It’s not currently safe for me to come out) Now tell me *shines light in your face* who are your contacts?

164: Do you have long or short hair?

I have medium hair. It’s around the length of a bisexual bob or a good mullet. 

165: Shortest/Longest your hair has ever been:

Shortest was a pixie cut, almost buzzed, amazing. Longest was to my butt and was literally the worst experience in existence. I shall to this day actively rebel against having hair like that again. 

166: Why do you like, dislike, or have neutral feelings about religion?

Organized religion can suck it. You can’t organize your relationship with God, nor can you stick it into a little manmade box and pretend that you have the ability to create a perfect faith which others have to either follow or perish. It’s arrogant and damaging and hurtful and not at all what Christianity is supposed to mean. 

167: Do you really care how the universe and world was created?

I do. I think it’s important and something we need to think about. I do believe there is something after death, and I like to believe that my life has meaning. I think that questions of creation are important questions to ask and we can’t just ignore them.

168: Do you like to wear makeup?

Yes! It’s fun! Pretty colors!

170: Did you answer the questions you were asked truthfully?

Absolutely. And the ones I didn’t feel like answering I simply omitted.

[namjoonchronicles]

million dollar houses | nj, yg

↳ pairing namjoon, you, yoongi

↳ genre drama, fluff, angst, romance, crime

↳ words 6.5k

↳ warnings strong language, description of murder, mentions of prostitution, findom, eloping

↳ notes this was in the wips for about two years before i muster up all courage to have it finished. to me it was the sexiest story i’ve written of namjoon because he has tattoos and whatnot, but the reason why it took as long as it did, was i lacked faith in my writings. when i find a wimp of confidence, i went on and finished it, so here it is, pls enjoy them

↳ summary weeks before the wedding, lawyer min yoongi, your fiance had met up with a client who was charged with a homicide case. seems bleak and unimportant, until you saw this handsome client whom you recognize as your ex-boyfriend with a non-violent history, namjoon. armed with a messy break-up and lingering feelings, will you choose your past with namjoon or will you go forward with yoongi?

One look in my eyes and you should know the truth.

Fumbling with his keys, Yoongi was holding the car keys in between his lips, struggling to shove the key into the keyhole of your apartment. It was not even 7AM and he is already suffering. He had at least three paper bags in one arm and coffee in another and it forced out of him a small strange groan as he managed to twist the keys to open.

"Done," he exasperated. As if it were quite the hassle.

Upon the sounds of the door opening, you winced in bed, but not quite wanting to open your eyes though you hear him affectionately call you, "...babe, I'm home!"

A few things dropped while he walked in and the door slammed shut behind him.

"Fuck, crap," he cursed and set the things on the table except one paper bag that he brought to you in your bedroom.

He simply pushed the door and placed the bag on the empty space of your bed and crawled on all fours with a cheeky over-energized grin plastered on his baby face. The bed dips as his weight begins to settle on it, his body heat radiates to you and it makes you frown.

"You didn't sleep well after I told you the confirmation date, did you?"

He lowers himself to kiss your shoulder and trail them along your neck and jawline until finally your lips, where he lingered longer than the others. He giggles low and brush his lips to the helix of your ear, whispering hotly, "Brought you coffee."

Sliding your hand up his shoulder with your eyes closed still, you circled your arm around his neck and pulled him for a peck with a small suggestive moan, "Tell me all the things I want to hear...you know the way to my heart, mister..." you scrunch your face, and let out a question in a feigned manner, "...who are you again?"

Yoongi bit his lips, and hummed, "Oh dearie, you shouldn't be in my bed if you don't remember my name. And I'm pretty sure it was the only name you chanted a few days ago. This is unfair," he pouted.

"What's unfair?" You peeked at him through one eye. "...I know what your name is, but you don't remember mine..." he murmured, "I'm disappointed, Mrs. Min."

You pinched his chin and shaked it lightly, "Soon. Eager are we."

Yoongi handed you your coffee while you're still seated in bed. He took the paper bag earlier and folded one leg underneath him, "Look what I got from Innisfree."

You took a mouthful gulp of coffee and shook your head out to feigned disapproval.

"...a 100 more days set for a bride-to-be!" Yoongi rejoiced.

"I know, I'm the best fiance there is," Yoongi boasted and had to gulp down the drink in a hurry.

"I didn't know they have these..." You gasped, eyes crinkling at the corners in graceful excitement and collected the box in your hand, gingerly, carefully and so appreciatively. Someone would get you something as expensive and as thoughtful as these. Coming from a male perspective, Yoongi is highly unusual. Be it his love towards Holly, the house dog, and children.

"And, the invitation cards are ready. So we are going to the print shop to fetch it. And then we have food tasting next week," Yoongi listed, "I've emptied my schedule for the whole week. So you don't have to worry about that."

You leaned your head on his shoulder, sitting face to face, "Oh thank goodness for your existence. I have Hoseok's birthday to worry about and I'm about to go insane, and then there's yours too...holy fuck."

Piling yourself with a humanly impossible task is never the plan. The wedding had to be around May this year, and you have been planning it for at least a year. The invitation cards are ready and it feels so real now that Yoongi brought you the things you needed to organize the wedding.

Sometimes things get too difficult too handle that you almost give up. Thankfully, Yoongi understood the pressure of a wedding and so he catches everything that falls out of your hand, metaphorically speaking. Yoongi too is as busy as you are, he had just started his own firm and under the guidance of your father, he was able to organize a few things on his own. 

Sometimes, you worry that you're taking up his time by being an emotional wreck especially at the eve of wedding planning, but Yoongi proved to you that it was nothing more than just a mood swing--something he had been effortlessly finding his way about. He was needless to say, impressive in his way of dealing with ordeals that you find meticulous. A God-sent lovable creature who fills your hole in the most enchanting way he could. Although sometimes he struggles with fitting his own time. Like right now, when you sit next to him in the car and he is fumbling on his phone with an unsettling frown on his face. You knew instantly that he was trapped in between something.

"What's wrong honey?" You asked. He hisses before answering, "I forgot that I promised a client to meet today."

"Can't it be postponed until tomorrow?" "The client specifically said today so I don't think he's going to be here tomorrow, what do we do? This case is big, and if I win it, I can give the firm a new recognition and it will be a good start for the firm."

Yoongi chewed his lips. You fished out your phone to call the printing company and tell them that you can't take the printed invitation cards today. The smile on Yoongi's face was indescribable. Although it was brief, you could feel the sincerity.

"What's the case about?" You watched him as he drives. His cream coloured turtle neck covers up until underneath his jaw and his black long coat made his eyes look striking brown. He's breathtakingly beautiful, this lawyer who stole your heart.

"...It's a homicide." He flipped the cars' blinkers to the right and turned the wheel with the heels of his palm, while grumbling low, trying to remember the details of the case.

"My client pleads not guilty to a murder of a man in cement tank...remember that body that came in the news? When you stayed over at my place?"

You blinked a few times, trying to remember.

That night? You had spicy rice cakes and Yoongi's kimchi fried rice. It was extra delicious and he allowed you to stay overnight when he was preparing an argument draft in his legal pad, watching Law & Order Season 8. When he took a phone call and walked to his study room, he left a file open on the dining table. Your fingers were curious about it and so you took time to read what's written on the reports. There were several pictures of gang tattoos and one very disturbing picture of a dead body, found in a hardened cement. And just then, the midnight news covered the story. Your eyes darted to the large screen and you stepped away from the table to watch. Yoongi joined you after a bit.

"A body of a man found in the hardened cement tank a few days ago had been confirmed to be a twenty-two year old young men name, Park Jihoon, who was a Seoul University's dropout. Park was an Advanced Chemistry student who obtained a scholarship from the nation's education bank due to his impressive scores in the last exam held by the International Chemistry Olympiad, it brought pride to the nation."

Your hand dropped to Yoongi's knees as he sat next to you on the couch. "Park's death had been ruled as homicide and investigations are still ongoing. In other news..."

The value of a human is ridiculed nowadays. The strong feeds on the poor down to their dying days. You remembered, feeling repulsive on the thought. Who would want to kill such an aspiring child? He was going to be someone important.

"Yes I remembered that." Yoongi tutted his tongue at your response.

"My client is the one who was accused of killing the boy. He's a gangster." Your eyes bored into Yoongi's unaffected side profile.

Although there was a tinge of guilt in the way his eyes flickered, you knew he wasn't telling you a hundred percent. Yoongi isn't the kind to hide things from you.

"So you're defending this client." Your voice died.

Yoongi puckered his lower lips over the top one and stuck his eyes on the view ahead, "Innocent until proven guilty, remember? If I win this case, my firm will soar."

Blinking away, you stared at the trees on the side of the streets. Things always look different from a moving car. Perceptions. What people choose to see and what is the real truth, Yoongi's job often put him in between good and evil. They say, lawyers have one feet in hell, the other in heaven. And it seemed that he understood your silence.

"I know what you're thinking. But beggars can't be choosers. My clients pay me. And it isn't always about the money, I know. There's always two sides of the story. This case is important to me as how important it is to my firm..." Yoongi persuaded you with his soft tone.

"Ilsan Brotherhood," you shot and Yoongi intercepted, "How did you know?"

You stared at the pavements where people were walking on.

"I read about it, in one of my father's files. They are not to be toyed around with, Yoongi. They are out for blood and most of the time, they will come home with one."

You warned him. "Whatever you have against them, it will not change my mind about taking this case, I'm sure my client is innocent. You haven't heard his side of the story." Yoongi is stubborn. He lets the idea of how winning this case will bring him pride and joy when you feared for his life.

Ilsan Brotherhood was not a stranger to you. They are the most active syndicate since the 2000s up until now. Even your little brother have heard of it.

"Can I come with you?" You unfastened your seatbelt. "Stay in the car." Yoongi shot.

He shut the car door that is parked by the large road, opposed to a bathhouse. You know this bathhouse, it has a Japanese restaurant link to it. Maybe you can't go in the bathhouse, but you can see that the restaurant’s bathroom is connected.. You exited the car and followed after Yoongi's footsteps but instead of entering the bathhouse where he is, you walked into the Japanese restaurant.

"A table for one, in a private room please?" You smiled. And she directed you to the room. They only have a wall made out of bamboo sticks and after the waitress left, you sneaked out of that room and sneak your way through the bathhouse. Until you heard Yoongi's voice coming from the end of the hallway.

"Fuck, he's in the restaurant..." You cursed in your head and scrambled to enter another private room that was thankfully empty but strangely had the lights on.

"...Meticulous, but we can find another loophole in the matter if we look close enough to the witness account," Yoongi commented and is walking in the room where you were.

"So this is the private room of the restaurant that conveniently is connected to the bathhouse?" Yoongi asked and you panic because you hear his footsteps coming nearer and nearer to the sliding door. That's when you crawled into an empty cupboard that was there, fit yourself in the lowest compartment and folded your legs in as small as you can be, leaving a tiny gap open, just large enough for your eyes to see and listen.

"Yoongi is going to kill me..." you thought to yourself but you were honestly not scared. 

You only feared getting caught. 

Yoongi folded his legs underneath and that's when the Japanese sliding door opened to reveal a tattooed young man with the clear words in big blocks of Old English font: Sinner; on his back. You held your breath and widened your eyes. This man, gangster, who was putting on his Japanese robe, had striking blonde hair and undercut on the sides. His brows strong and purposeful in one glimpse, charismatic in another. You knew that this man was a leader with many loyal followers.

Yoongi was incredibly relaxed and you could tell that it was not his first time meeting this man. He was also cautious enough not to let you know.

"I'm sorry I almost forgot about today," Yoongi started to explain himself and next to Yoongi was another men with long earrings, chirpy and far too smiley to be in a gang, but he oozes an aura of loyalty. It's really difficult to see who else was there but you held on to listen more.

"The boss had been enduring several sleepless nights because he had been getting some unwanted calls from the authorities and wondering if there's anyway you could, pardon the harshness of my words, shut them up..." The young man had a high-pitched voice.

"I know, I've been pulling some strings as well, but it will take time. I want to talk to Namjoon...Jimin, alone." Yoongi dropped his gaze on the table and Namjoon eyed Jimin to leave. 

"...I will have to know what happened that night Namjoon," Yoongi explained, "I can't help you if you don't tell me a hundred percent."

Namjoon was visibly obedient by the request. He nodded twice and inhale then exhale, "I will give you all the information needed. I'm not exactly a clean slate to begin with," His voice was an octave lower than Yoongi's. More stories about to be unfold, once Namjoon fixed an appointment to meet Yoongi again, at a later and a more convenient time.

Yoongi excused himself and left Namjoon alone. You watched him sat there, hanging his head low before straightening up in his seat to nip another roll of sushi in his mouth. You were absolutely unafraid.

Yoongi returns to an empty car. He spun around to search for you. "Where the hell did she go?"

Pushing the sliding door open slowly, Namjoon froze in his seat, reaching for a blade underneath his cushion. He softens when he saw a drape of long hair falling on each side of your shoulder. Crawling on all four, you grunted out of your hiding place. And Namjoon began to chew slowly as if it didn't bother him.

"Didn't think I'd meet you this way," he grumbled.

"How much do I need to pay you to not bother Yoongi?" You spat.

And Namjoon answered that with a low chuckle. "...you think you can afford me?" He smiled to his food.

"I'm not playing Namjoon. He's not one of you." You warned, standing up.

"Because he graduates from law school and is from a good family? Congratulations," he was bemused by it.

You rolled your eyes to the side. Namjoon shoved another sheet of dried laver into his mouth. Unaffected by your childish play, he stares back at you like an audience to a performer. He was rather enjoying this.

"You didn't see me here today," you warned him, feet halfway out of the room when you heard Namjoon say, "No reunion kiss?"

Growling inwardly, you left the room undetected at came out of the Japanese Restaurant.

"Where were you?" Yoongi asked from a distance.

"I went to the bathroom, I was about to pee in my pants!" You jogged to him, crossing the empty street. "Hurry, we can still catch up if we go right now. The printing shop is still open."

You sat in the car while Yoongi settled the bills in the printing shop. Your phone dings a message from an unknown number. It said only one thing,

"Pandora, @ 1am."

Of course he'll have your number. Namjoon is capable of anything, including murder. 

The faceless and nameless man is Kim Namjoon. Watching Yoongi walked back into the car with two bags full of printed invitations card, you felt your heart tug. 

You were certain that this meeting needed to be done so he knows where you stand. You have a life now, and you're determined to keep it. That's why you're here in Pandora at 1 AM as instructed.

Namjoon stood by the handrails, overlooking the night sky, in a grey tuxedo and black dress shirt that compliments his blonde hairdo. His long arm stretch along one side while the other is holding a glass. Musky scent filled the open air on the verandah, in contrast of the hyped clubbing floor just underneath. The smell of cigarettes was still lingering around your nose making you appreciate Namjoon's cologne. Hearing the sound of your sneakers on the wooden surface of the veranda, Namjoon tipped his head up to the night sky, downing a glass of bourbon in his hand.

"Cancer sky's out here tonight to mock me, despicable stars," he rolled his head around, still giving you his back, "Funny how I almost thought you wouldn't come," he added a dry chuckle.

"I came to tell you that it's finally over," you sounded determined. Namjoon hung his head low then throw his head back, in a manner that a broken man should behave.

"He's treating you well?" he paused, smiling at the sky and biting his lips, "...With his expensive Rolex and Gucci ties, his Rolls Royce and wit? You like how he treats you?" He tries to edge you, he turns around to face you, leaning his back to the rails and watch the drink in his swirl with a tut of his tongue, his lips parted a little.

His elbow is on the handrail, as he took another sip, "You've always liked men in high places. Always falling for a fool with great brains," he said in a mocking tone. You marched straight at him and gritting your teeth while he fixes his stance, you growled, "...At least I was not starving."

His personal space was invaded and it was nothing foreign to him, "...I'll give him credit for that." He cocked his eyebrow, gliding his eyes away from you, challenging.

"It's always been about the money isn't it?" You heard him say, pulling his gaze back to you and you stepped back when he took a step forward, downing another painful gulp of strong alcohol into his throat. But the burns he felt in his systems is not as horrific as the wounds you left on him.

You spun around, throwing your hands in your hair before you turn to him and shove him back once, twice.

"I fucking loved you Namjoon. Very much," you growled in his face and stepped away, facing away from him.

"Yeah, but not enough to stay..." Namjoon taunted you while he tailed you.

You faced him one more time. Tears brimming, glassy eyes and pained.

"I would have died for you..." you choked, and, "...I would have fucking died for you."

You pushed banged his chest with your fist and gradually, you weakened as the tears spills.

"You know what we had, it was real..." your lips quivered, your eyes pleading at him to understand.

But his gaze remains hard and unaffected. Those eyes used to be so soft on you. Those hands only held yours and those arms were your home. Those lips belong to you and they say all the things you want to hear. Those intense gaze was yours to take.

Namjoon was yours, all yours.

In a small apartment in the outskirts of town, not more than five years ago, with broken windows and one bedroom, you were so in love. It was your little paradise where Namjoon is a troubled boy everyone stayed away from. Who gave you a peek of his sentimental side and made you fall for his dimpled smile, Namjoon was stained soul with untainted heart. But his appearance made people stay away from him. He couldn't find a job because people don't want to employ a young adult with a mistake he made in his teens. You were his only support system. With no job that pays enough, you were the one sacrificing your time to work in two places. You tutored in the day and worked in a convenience store at night. He walked you to work and back. And even when he smiles, you know he was upset.

"What's wrong baby?" You asked, curling your arm around his waist as you walked. Some people passes you by.

He dropped his gaze to the floor, "...I know what impressions I gave out. I see them giving me 'the eye'. I know I'm a piece of trash, they don't need to be loud about it. The car wash center fired me today, and no pay..." He chuckled dryly and you stopped in your tracks.

Namjoon continued walking but halted after a bit, turning his side at you.

"Come on, I want to be home," he waved his hand, coaxing you to come to him, "The rent is due this week and I have no idea how to pay that," he mumbled.

You put money into an envelope and slid them in the drawer when Namjoon showered. You were prepared. You always put money aside in case shit happened. He slid into the single bed with you, smelling like soap. The bed is so small, your legs overlapped his just to give him more space. Laying on top of him will provide both of you enough space to wriggle about, so it has been a common practice. You lay your head next to his chest where you could hear his heartbeat while his hand will find their way on the small of your back, rubbing them in meaningless circle, thumbing your flesh to soothe you. His touches are always entrancing, gentle and tender. Unlike anything his tattoos represent. He called your name when you're half awake, in whispers, and,

"Do you ever feel like leaving me?" He asked in a small gritty voice, "...you can have a better life without me, you know..." He blinked at the ceiling and inhaled.

That's when you gaze up to him in a newfound consciousness and gave him a peck on the lips, "...Don't say things like that, you know I would never survive a day without you."

He switches on his side and make you lay on your side as well. You lay face to face, while his arm draped lazily over your thin waist. Nose clashing with each other as he sighed,

"I only want what's best for you. I cannot promise you things I want to give you. I want to give you so much...I don't deserve you," his eyes were frightened so they glided away from you.

You look at him with certainty and affections, "...Hey, look at me."

They trail up to you, slowly, almost hesitantly, "...You will find another job. And they'll pay better. And don't worry about the rent, I got you," You patted his chest gently, twice, and an assured smile. He thumbed your chin and then let his thumb ran along the length of your lower lip. His eyes were fixated on it and slowly, he placed them in between his very own, and began to suckle them softly.

"What are we doing baby?" You sighed when he dove his face in your neck, and you feel his lips on that small patch of skin that's known to drive you over the edge without him doing much.

"...The only way I know now that will make you instantly happy," he grazed his teeth on that same spot, pulling you closer than you already are, his voice already throwing your conscience out the window. You don't have to tell him where to caress. Namjoon knows every little spot that would make you weak, like it was in the back of his hand. Guaranteed to make you a writhing mess underneath him.

Making love in small tight places. The fact that you can't make noises makes it even better and rewarding.

When it's good, it’s going great.

But desperation could drive any sane man to become what he's not. Namjoon was going to make money, and he didn't care how.

He didn't like to see you working two jobs and the household is doing things the other way around. You were earning money and raising him. It scarred his pride. So he resorted to the one place you told him not to go, the club. He was quickly and most frequently booked by many wealthy females.

Most of them were lonely widows and secret mistresses of powerful men, who paid Namjoon a remarkable amount of money for his time and a little fun. All the while he was beginning to create his rapport, he had money stacked in one bank account. No longer were you starving to pay the rent and even though he sometimes disappeared into thin air when you search for him, being able to afford things was becoming more important than the reason behind his frequent absence. He was extremely generous in bed and he got better with his words and brought himself with more confidence than before, it was a very good change.

He brought you out of that shitty apartment to a better one.

You have more space but you felt him drifting away. And you don’t know why. 

Walking home from work, alone is your everyday now. Namjoon traded his casuals to tuxedos and sandals to leather shoes. He began to bring home many colognes and tell you that it was a gift from the marketing team. One night you found a pink vibrant G-string in his black pants, while doing the laundry. Unable to wait for him to leave the tub, you stormed into the bathroom and threw them in his face. Disappointment. Betrayal.

Namjoon grabbed his robe and went after you, chanting, "Baby, I can explain! Its yours. I got it for you..." A stinging slap went across his face.

"You think I didn't know..." you tipped your head to one side, quizzically, grumbling back at him with glassy eyes, "I know you're fucking around with the widows in this city Namjoon. And wealthy women, you like money that much that you sold your dignity?" You cocked your head to one side, your voice clipped. You grabbed his wallet and took out all the cards he had.

"Thank you for tonight. I had a lot of fun after a long time." "Namjoon, I look forward to our next meeting." "I'm all yours Mr. Kim."

You scoffed. "You create quite a stir now ha... tattooed good-looking man with incredible proportions, you loved the attention? How dare you come home and kiss me with those filthy lips of yours."

"You wanted money. We wanted money." "Gained the right way!" You raised your voice at him. "Well the right way is taking too long!" And he roared just as loud.

You turned away from him, "...Unbelievable."

Namjoon shook his head, pinching his temples between two hands, "...Let's talk about it in the morning," he reaches for your arm and you yanked them away at once.

"Get your hands off of me," You grumbled. He clenched his jaws.

You grabbed your jacket and put on your jeans while he sat on the edge of the bed, covering his face and exhaling.

"Where are you going...it's 3AM," He sighed, "You're giving me a hard time right now. I did what I needed to do," he watched you shove some clothes in a backpack.

You added a chuckle, "My ass. If I was selling myself, we would make more than you ever did."

Zipping them up angrily, "Have fun fucking girls while I'm gone. I'm never coming back. You can give them my clothes," You yanked the door open and stormed out.

“I gave you everything you wanted… a better house, pretty clothes, good food, how dare you do this to me…” he growled, holding the door shut as you struggle to leave.

“That was what you wanted!” you roared in his face, and he visibly froze. You softened,

“I only wanted you,” your voice cracked, brittle and hushed.

It was obvious that he didn’t want the same thing. He was blinded by wealth. And he got comfortable standing on the middle ground at the cost of his soul.

Namjoon's performance dwindled down. He began losing clients, one by one. And although he had more than enough to maintain his lifestyle, he can never fill the hole you left. You cut too deep and he didn't intend to have your replacement anytime soon. His heart was a fool for you and only you.

You were gone for weeks. Jumping to one bathhouse to another with some money you saved from having two jobs. Namjoon knew where you worked so you decided to leave that job and find another. You took wages in doing small sewing jobs just to keep up with yourself. And one night, your free-lance job brought you back to Namjoon's place. You wondered from outside his windows why it's still on. Sitting at the curb to watch some more, you had clothes barely enough to keep you warm, gazing up at the level of his apartment. His extravagant penthouse.

"...Are you sleeping well without me?" You whispered to him as if he was there next to you. You fold your arms and rested them on your knees before laying your head on top of it. I’m not sleeping at all, you whispered in your heart.

Namjoon on your side of the bed. His eyes were unforgiving and he didn't allow himself to sleep since you left. He was going insane on his own that he began to speak to you as if you're in the same room.

"I left the door unlocked, and there's keys under the mat," he said. He sets two plates on the table when he eats while even without you. Bought your favourite chocolate bars that you two used to share. He sat in the walk-in wardrobe and took one of your clothes before sniffing them, inhaling your scent because he misses you so much he could barely think.

"Please come back... please." He prayed. It's just not the same without you.

You remember it all. How he stood by the lamp post with his flyers promoting jobs in his worn out shoes and foolish smile to every stranger that passes him by. Those flyers get stepped on, thrown away and torn. You remember how you gave up half of your instant noodles, so he could have more. Money pinching life, but the happiest you had ever been in your entire existence. It didn’t matter if it was raining and he’s drenched, giving out flyers, it didn’t matter if your back is sore from washing dishes in a nearby diner and finger calloused from days on end using detergents, it didn’t matter that it was a hard life to live because Namjoon was there to help you go on. You had Namjoon, 

and that was enough.

Just weeks to spare until the wedding. Invitation cards stack on the corner of your shared room. You shouldn’t be thinking about another man in the bed you shared with your fiance. You shouldn’t be thinking about his smile, or his laugh, or the way he looked at you. You shouldn’t be able to word every touch and every moment you spent with him. You shouldn’t be able to make of the shape of his face, the sound of his voice when he is angry, when he is happy or when he is sad, or remember with utmost precision where all his birthmarks are and you shouldn’t have remembered where your favorite one is, the one that’s on his upper right thigh. You shouldn’t be able to point the scars on his right knee and how long it was. You remembered him details. You remembered Namjoon in details. And it’s a wretched thing to do for a bride-to-be.

Tears streamed across your nose bridge, as you lay on the side, boring into the view of an opaque translucent curtain, moving softly. You wipe the tears harshly, with the back of your hand, along with the thoughts of Namjoon and that’s when you hear Yoongi coming in.

“Why are you’re up so late?” he crawled into bed, holding the blankets up, simultaneously, pressing his lips on your shoulder, draping his arm around your waist, inhaling your scent. Thunder crackling in the black sky, flickering lightning behind thick puffs of clouds, and then,

The rain pours. Just like that night.

Dusk until dawn, you promised me. 

Not even the rain could stop you two from wanting to dance in the streets. Your skin is wet from sweat and it washed down from the heavy rain. Big smiles on both of your faces, he twirls you around and you go on your tippy toes feeling absolutely safe even when the lightning strikes. Sharing one cup of noodles in the convenient store because that was all you could afford to not go starving for the night. You sewing up his only dress shirt’s button on while he stares down fondly at you, holding up the flashing lights because the room you both rented had the electricity cut off from outstanding bills. You both had nothing, and yet, everything.

You promised that I won’t be alone, and when things go wrong, you’d still be here. You promised. You lied.

You were a fool in love. You gave up your family for that boy. And where else could you have gone, if not back to your family? They built you up from scrap, had you meet the man you’re with today. The wind strikes your face the same way it did with Namjoon, but with feigned calamity. A false security and deceitful smile. Are you convincing yourself that you’re okay with the man you’ve promised to marry? Or are you deceiving yourself into believing that he was right to marry? Especially when you saw his greed to defend someone in the wrong? Just for the sake of his firm?

An unfinished business. A lingering string of thoughts. It buzzes through Namjoon’s mind as he sat in his leather chair, swirling his glass of wine. Scents of Mahogany strikes up his nostril, drilling through his thoughts at the possibility of jail time should he be proven guilty. The boy. Right, the college Chemistry boy.

He threatens the market. It was the only market that feeds Namjoon of his lavish expenses,his uncontrollable urge to possess everything he only dreamt of.

“It was the words that came out of that boy that made me feel he shouldn’t be alive,” Namjoon arched an eyebrow and Yoongi visibly stiffened. Tactless, and merciless--was the way he said it. Namjoon really did sell his soul to the devil. And he proceed to gorily describe how he killed the boy.

“He regurgitates, sputtering blood all over the cord I wrapped around his Adam’s apple, and I dragged his pulsating body through the dirt and put his face into the liquid cement that hasn’t dried. Then I put his entire body inside…” Namjoon’s dark gaze lifts up to meet Yoongi’s and he did the unthinkable,

He smiled.

Without remorse.

“D’you know what he said?” Namjoon rests his elbows on the edge of the table, “Called me a beggar. The nerve of that boy.” He chuckled. But Yoongi didn’t join.

Namjoon downed a mouthful of wine and left his chair. Army of loyal followers waiting for him outside. The police are at the door, with handcuffs. They have him remanded until trials began. Will he remains his stance as not guilty? It is hardly so, now that Yoongi had known the truth. The prosecution's will soon find out what other crimes he did. And he will be in jail for good. While he got remanded, he received a visitor.

“Does your fiance know, you’re here?” he asked, with that boyish grin you were familiar with.

“He won’t, if you don’t tell,” you snapped.

You took one long look to his figure, his face, the features that stood out, the tattoos that boldly peek through his neck hole and syncopate on his skin, his forearms and knuckles.

“Do they make you stronger? Those drawings on your skin?” you asked, through your lashes and your eyes tips up to meet his.

“The pain that comes while I’m getting them, does. It made me feel something after you were gone,” he shrugs his shoulders, sitting slouched in his chair.

“I’m getting married, Namjoon,” not wishing to beat around the bush anymore, you shot, “I’m really getting married…”

Namjoon jutted his chin out, hollowed his cheeks and somberly nodded. His gaze cast down to his lap, “I know…I’ll be in jail.”

You don’t love him, you pitied him. At least, that’s what you told yourself, forcing your eyes stay open and it stings, till tears fall to your cheek.

“Don’t cry,” he whispered, even though he wasn’t even looking at you, he knew, and, “You should be happy, Yoongi’s a great person. You’ll be very happy. Even within this thick walls, I still make you cry…”

“Don’t tell me what to do…” you grumbled. Wiping your tears with the back of your hand, you grab your purse and took out a bank account book he had shipped to your home address, “I can’t accept this.”

Along with the handwritten letters that came with it.

The chair scratched against the concrete floor, and Namjoon stared at the bank account book while you exited the room. His lips hung open and he blew hot air to his forehead as the door slammed shut behind you.

The crowds begin to cheer as you walk into the aisle, hand-in-hand with your father. He had a vibrant smile on, to match your subtle ones. And at the end of the aisle was Min Yoongi, your soon-to-be husband. And with every step approaching him, you leave Namjoon and his words behind.

This bank account I started when we rented a room in that run-down apartment.

Veils covered your face. Forward.

I made a vow that I’ll give them to you once the money inside is enough for a decent wedding.

Heart thumps. You tighten your grip around your father’s arm. Forward.

Of many promises that went unfulfilled,

Your knees feel loose but you held on. Forward. Forward.

At least I could fulfill these.

One last row and Yoongi is within reach. Forward.

I wish you happiness, even without me.

Namjoon basks in the sun in his prison attire, by the monkey bars, pondering about the love he had once received, and now lost. 

The cost of a million dollar house is his soul, his future and his past.

.

.

.

.

End.

[letitrainathousandflames-archive]

Whumptober #2 - Explosion

Fandom: The Clone Wars

Rating: Teen and Up (16+)

Characters: Hardcase (main), Jesse, Kix, Fives

Tags: death, blood, trauma, bullying, only hurt and a teaspoon of comfort, whump, child death, umbara, if I forgot to tag something pls let me know

Summary: Hardcase had a leak in his tube that would’ve deemed him as defective and qualify him for decommission, but someone saved him from this fate. Years later, Hardcase got to choose his own fate.

-

Eight years and four months ago, the Kaminoans noticed a leak on a clone’s tube and ordered Ninety-Nine to empty it, liquid and embryo altogether. The leak could cause the clone to become defective, and defective products were something inadmissible for their perfectionist standards.

Ninety-Nine had stared at the tube. He couldn’t quite see much of the clone in there aside from a small reddened clump the side of his fist, since it was at such an early stage of its development, but when he touched the glass and the warm liquid trickling from a small crack there trailed between his fingers and over the back of his hand, Ninety-Nine could feel him. He knew he could. No clone deserved to be ruled out before at least having a chance to prove themselves, it wasn’t fair.

The truth is, Ninety-Nine had seen himself in the allegedly defective clone. The clone was there, just waiting for one chance to prove himself useful, and Ninety-Nine would be damned if he didn’t help him get it. So Ninety-Nine fixed the leak as best as he could and prayed for an opportunity to cover up what he knew would be seen as a mistake. He could be killed for this. He didn’t care – dying to protect a brother was a good death, a righteous death for a clone. If he truly had to go like that, he couldn’t ask for anything better.

The opportunity came in a miscarried clone, only thirty minutes later. Ninety-Nine wept for him, as he always would. It’s a sad thing, witnessing a clone trooper being robbed of the opportunity to fight alongside his vod’e. Ninety-Nine emptied what was then a useless tank as required – and transferred the clone from the cracked tube into that one.

The kaminoans had seen Ninety-Nine’s actions in the security feed and demanded an explanation, and what could the clone say for himself? That he cared for each and every clone in the facility, that their lives had meaning and purpose, that denying someone’s right to live when you had intentionally forced them into existing with your unethical science in the first place was cruel and selfish?

So Ninety-Nine had spoken sheepishly, eyes set on the stark white floor.

“I-If I may say so, you’ve already invested your time and resources in this clone, doctor. Why not see him to completion? If he comes out defective, he can” and Ninety-Nine swallowed down, grimacing “be sent into the front lines, used as a shield.”

The kaminoan in front of him stared coldly at the clone, tone dry and merciless.

“This is not up for you to choose, clone. You are not a scientist, you are not a specialist. You are an experiment gone wrong that we chose to allow to exist, and instead of thankfulness, you give us betrayal.” She drew in a breath, looking down at Ninety-Nine to then offer him a smile that the clone knew to be false “Very well. You will be responsible for whatever comes out of that tube. If it can walk and follow orders, it’ll be sent to battle.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously “But if it’s deemed unfit for battle, you will be personally responsible for terminating it. Not with a medical droid’s assistance, not with an injection, but with a loaded blaster.”

Ninety-Nine kept his eyes low, trying not to let his wincing be noticed, fighting off his wish to scream at the scientist and ask what in the moons was wrong with her. For the most of his life, Ninety-Nine had wanted nothing more than holding a blaster, but now the very thought of it had made him sick.

If it boiled down to that, Ninety-Nine would rather shoot himself than execute a brother.

So when the day of batch 6000’s decanting comes, Ninety-Nine takes the newborn clones one by one into the nursery room, wraps them gingerly into warm, soft blankets and welcomes them into the universe. It’s always a joyous occasion to him, seeing his brothers opening their eyes for the first time, taking the very first breath of their tiny lungs, but this time the happy feeling comes with an anxious thought that keeps gnawing at him – what of the clone from the leaking tube? A loud cry cuts Ninety-Nine thoughts abruptly, and he wonders: could it be…?

When he walks back into the decanting facility across the hall, one single clone is placed in a the clear plastoid tray over a nursing cart – the newborn is bare, so, so small like all newborn clones are, still wet with the liquid he’d been immersed in up until then. Ninety-Nine rushes to the cart, looking at the baby lying there, and the baby looks up at him, eyes big and wet with tears, face red from crying. The is a dark blue spot on his cheek, right below his right eye, and Ninety-Nine can see by the reddened skin surrounding the spot that it wasn’t a birth mark – that was a fresh wound.

“This” the kaminoan doctor states dryly “is the tampered clone. I marked it with a small tattoo so that it won’t get mixed in with the others. We will be keeping a close eye on its development, and if it shows any signs of delayed development, if it seems defective in any way, we will have you personally terminate it.”

Ninety-Nine draws in a sharp breath, looking at the baby that still whimpers without comprehending why he had been hurt in this way only minutes after being born. Ninety-Nine reaches for the baby, wraps the fabric around his small body to keep him warm.

“Yes, doctor.”

When they’re alone, Ninety-Nine rocks the baby, cooing gently until he stops crying. When he places the baby – CT6160 – in the vacant clear plastoid box right next to CT6116, he notices his hands are shaking. He swallows down thickly, runs a gentle hand over the baby’s head, wrinkled fingers ghosting over soft skin.

“You’ll be fine. You and your brothers will train together and fight together, and you’ll tell me all kinds of stories from every corner of the galaxy when we meet again. You’ll be fine.” He sighs, shakes his head “Don’t ever let them tell you your life has no worth. You take care out there, okay?”

-

CT6160 tries his best, he does. But he still can’t keep his mind from wandering during most classes, or his leg from bouncing no matter how many times the instructors tell him to stand still and pay attention. He starts tapping his fingers on his desk instead, or chewing his lip to the point of bleeding. He just doesn’t know what to do with all the energy in his body, and trying to keep it still within him almost makes him ache.

“Kid’s a hard case, as most of the instructors say.” Rex, an older clone on supervising duty sighs to doctor Nala Se during one of her inspections “But he’s doing some effort to keep up. I believe he will improve in no time.”

Nala Se nods, intentionally keeping from Rex the information about what will happen to the 4-year-old clone, should the weekly reports from his behavior take a worse turn.

By the time everyone is calling him that, Hardcase has already accepted the nickname with a wide grin – every clone is eager to shed their ceetee number as soon as possible, to start building a sense of identity.

“I could’ve gotten a batcher named ‘calm case’, ‘quiet case’ but no,” CT-6116, who had recently started going by ‘Kix’ complains, applying bacta to Hardcase’s most recent training-related wound “No, I get the kid that can’t stop getting into trouble.”

“You should be thankful” Hardcase says, wincing a bit when the bacta burns some at his wound “You’re getting extra practice at medical training. Isn’t it the thing you’re going for?”

Hardcase isn’t dumb. He knows that his behavior wasn’t exactly that of a standard clone’s, and despite how hard he had tried to fit in, to be like the others, he would still be too much. Too loud, too chatty, too bouncy. So he gives in, accepts his place as the unusual one, the strange one. After he becomes friends with Jesse, a clone from another squad that was known for his sense of humor, the two of them become an unstoppable duo prone to making the funniest jokes and having the dumbest ideas that would make their brothers laugh like the kids they are. Even the older clones will occasionally allow themselves a smirk at their jokes.

“So, what’s your idea?” Jesse asks, tattoo gun ready to ink

“Blue lines over here and here.” He points the planned trails over his face and head “Then down my neck and over my back and maybe my chest too, and-”

“Vod, if we’re starting with your kriffing face I’m pretty sure you won’t stand getting inked all that much afterwards.”

“Says the guy with the Republic’s crest over his skull.”

“That hurt like hell, you won’t believe how long it took to-” Jesse sighs “Whatever, raise your face up and let’s get this done with.”

Kix throws a datapad at them from across the room.

“At least clean his face before you shove a needle in it, do you shebs even pay attention to any of the classes?!”

-

Hardcase is always happy. Always. There’s nothing that can bring the kid down. Not even the scolding from his instructors, telling that he’s inches from failing his next test.

I’m trying, I swear I’m trying, he mutters to himself as he curls himself up in a ball under the sheets, sobbing softly into his pillow.

-

Hardcase is seven when instructor Bric orders him to meet him outside, under the pouring rain that soaks him through the red cadet uniform. He doesn’t try to defend himself when the scolding turns into a beat up, when a fist strikes his cheekbone, sending him down to the ground.

“You are an embarrassment to what it means to be a clone trooper!” Bric exclaims, kicking him in the ribs while he’s still down “A useless, defective clone that should’ve been flushed down the drain before getting even born.”

“I’m not…” Hardcase grits out, lifting himself up on his elbows, breath shallow “I’m not defective!”

Bric kicks him again, and Hardcase drops back on his stomach, coughing. The instructor crouches down to then grab Hardcase by the neck of his shirt.

“Your tube had a leak. The clones say it made you ‘hyperactive’. I say it just made you defective. You are just a defective clone that was never meant to live past your decanting day.”

The rain runs rivers over Hardcase’s head and face, cold and unforgiving like the world he had been put in.

“You’re lying!”

Bric grabs Hardcase’s face, presses a thumb over his cheekbone.

“That’s why they marked you. So that we would know ‘this is the broken clone’.” he growls, voice lower now “I don’t know why the Kaminoans are taking so long to put you out of your misery, but I’m sick and tired of wasting my time trying to train you.”

And with that, he bashes Hardcase’s face onto the ground. Not hard enough to deal permanent damage, but definitely hard enough to split his lip and bruise his nose an inch from breaking.

“So until you get your act together and fix your results, we’re gonna have a friendly little meeting just like this one. And if you die, well… No one’s gonna miss a defective product, though getting rid of you should be the other defective one’s job.”

-

When Ninety-Nine sees the clone soaking wet and sobbing by the door of the cadets’ dorms, he rushes over to him, kneeling down in front of the boy.

“Are you alright?” Ninety-Nine sees the blood trailing from his nose over his upper lip, his lower lip swollen and reddened “What happened?”

Hardcase wipes his nose, lips quivering. His eyes are red and he blinks his tears away, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Clone troopers are supposed to withstand any kind of stress, but he can feel himself chipping away, and he’s so angry and so tired. He rapidly taps his foot on the floor, body shaking with the intensity of it.

“Bric said I’m broken and that my tank had a leak and that you’re supposed to kill me. S’that true?” and Ninety-Nine draws a sharp breath, staring at Hardcase for a few instants before Harcase insists, louder this time “Is that true?! Am I defective, Ninety-Nine?!”

Ninety-Nine shakes his head, heart sinking. And before he knows it, he’s wrapped his arms around the kid and pulled him into a hug.

“No. No, you’re not defective. I promise you’re not.” he pulls back, wrinkly face offering him a tentative smile “Is it okay if we talk for a little while?”

-

Hardcase lets Ninety-Nine take him by the hand to the mess, accepts the cookies he offered and sits gingerly on a chair while the older clone cleans the blood off his face with a cloth. And for the first time, he manages to actually listen. He doesn’t know if it’s because Ninety-Nine lets him bounce his legs as they dangle from the chair, or if it’s because Ninety-Nine occasionally stops his tale to ask him if he has any questions, or if he needs him to repeat anything, or how Ninety-Nine doesn’t get angry when Hardcase needs some bits to be repeated two or three times. But he listens. Stars, he listens.

They stay very quiet afterwards, and Ninety-Nine gently places his hand over Hardcase’s on the table.

“I accepted the deal because I always knew you would be fine, you know, kid?”

Hardcase stares at the table, avoiding Ninety-Nine’s eyes, and he’s so glad that he’s not like the other adults that berate him for doing this. The question he asks in a tiny voice feels like it burns his throat with every word.

“But what if they still make you do it?”

Ninety-Nine doesn’t move his hand, squeezing Hardcase’s hand softly instead, and he give him a tiny chuckle.

“If they ever gave me a blaster and told me to shoot you, I’d shoot myself instead.”

That makes Hardcase turn to look timidly at Ninety-Nine, eyes wide.

“Why?!”

Ninety-Nine is smiling still, looking very serene.

“A clone should always look after himself, Hardcase, you should always cherish your life. But sometimes… sometimes it’s worth it to give our lives for something that matters. And nothing matters more than our brothers.”

-

Hardcase graduates with high marks, his skills and ingenuity at the physical and strategy tests tipping the scales against his difficulty at the written tests. After his first few assignments with his squad, he is thrilled to join the 501st Legion, general Anakin Skywalker’s legendary troops.

“Suck. On. That, Kaminiise. Who’s defective now, huh?” he mutters to himself, painting his helmet with a blue line motif

Kix rolls his eyes, holding still as Jesse tattoos something on the left side of Kix’s head, right above his ear.

“You’re so pumped over that armor.”

Hardcase grins, fingers dirty with paint fixing his grip on the brush, and Jesse laughs as he carefully tattoos an inscription that reads ‘a good droid is a dead one’:

“Like you’re not all giddy with that cross on your shoulder, doc.”

Kix clicks his tongue, and Hardcase’s grin widens. He’s glad to have been able to turn the small blue dot that had marked him a defective clone into part of his newer tattoos, into what identifies him as who he is. The instructors and the kaminoans had deemed him a hard case – he embraced that too, making it his name. He is a person, and his life matters, no matter how others had tried to convince him of the contrary.

-

It’s a risky plan, of course it is. As they soar through the dark Umbaran skies, Hardcase goes through the plan over and over, pays attention to Fives’ warning to hold his fire. It’s dangerous, but if they do it right, they might save the lives of their brothers from both Torrent Company and the 212th battalion. He can already picture them returning safely to the base, thinks of a good joke to make about the whole deal. Wonders how good it’ll feel to rub this victory on Krell’s ugly face.

Hardcase hands are pressing over the panels of the stolen umbaran fighter as they are cornered by the enemy ships that fire non-stop at them. They only have seconds to do something, otherwise he, Fives and Jesse will die. Jesse had grown with him and had always had his back. Fives is a great leader, and he had taken care of him and the others below his station even when his life was on the line. He can’t let them die. He needs to come up with something, anything.

He glances over his shoulder, sees the generator right behind them past the shield. Hardcase removes his helmet, blaster fire filling his ears louder, lights too bright as his eyes adjust and find a way in.

“We can’t turn back now!” he shouts; It’s too narrow for his ship, but seemingly wide enough for him and at least part of the umbaran fighter. Hardcase’s hands work fast, quickly finding a way to dismantle part of the ship, removing one of its propulsors. “Cover me!”

He exits the safety of his ship’s shield, lowering himself to the ground and rolling away from incoming blaster fire.

“Hardcase, get back to your ship!” Fives barks out, and it would remind Hardcase of all the scolding back at his cadet days if it wasn’t for the clear note of fear in Fives’ voice

“Trust me, I got a plan!” he reaches the large propulsor of his ship, its antigravity engines keeping it afloat; Hardcase pushes it towards the entrance to the generator room “This is for the 501st. Don’t wait for me.”

You’re just a defective clone that was never meant to live past your decanting day.

Fives knows him well enough to understand that this isn’t one of Hardcase’s bouts of hyperactivity; the ARC trooper knows his brother has a plan, and he already imagines its outcome.

“Hardcase, NO!”

Hardcase turns his back on his brothers, a bittersweet feeling blooming in his chest. How many times had he heard someone yell these words? It’s almost funny that they’ll be the last thing he is going to hear.

“You disobeyed a lot of orders today, sir.” he says, keeping his head low and turning to look at Fives one last time “Follow this one: get out of here!”

Sometimes it’s worth it to give our lives for something that matters.

All clones live as dead men walking. From the day they are born, their only purpose is to die. For their generals, for the civilians they’re protecting, for the republic, for the chancellor. It’s never up to them to choose what they are going to die for, so Hardcase feels almost proud for being able to do it.

And nothing matters more than our brothers.

He runs through the narrow corridor, sees the generators ahead and, with a low grunt, pushes the propulsor towards them. He turns to see Fives and Jesse rushing away in the last few seconds he still has left.

“Live to fight another day, boys.” and he sighs, smiles; he feels in peace, and he truly understands what Ninety-Nine had meant before “Live to fight another day.”

When the explosion engulfs him, Hardcase is still smiling.

[utopianvoices]

love languages | stray kids

↭ a/n: this is based purely on my opinion and perspective of them!!

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

chan

from what we see every vlive

his top love language will be physical touch 

he’ll come back from a long day at the studio or from practice

and he’ll just collapse on you

in need for cuddles

and just physical contact in general

whatever you and him do, there will be SOME physical contact 

brushing of hands, holding hands, his hand on your back, small pecks in between conversations, linking of pinkies ((this actually makes me so soft asdkfjaskf))

you name it and it’ll be there tbh

that being said, however, he’ll really respect your space 

so one word from you and he’ll be on the other side of the room

but you won’t miss the pouty lips he was sporting

but also lets be real who doesn’t want to cuddle him

we know he’s a great cook 

but loves it so much when you cook for him

because then he can back hug you and be that cute couple everybody cringes at but also secretly wishes that they also had that

loves winters only because he gets to cuddle you all night long without getting sweaty and shit 

also strikes me as the person who loves eskimo kisses asdlfgska; someone stop me im gonna combust from all this fluff

just give this boy all the love in the world asdfkdsjagl ;-;

woojin

oK this boy is cuddle king #2

its already established that he’s a cuddly bear

but i feel like he’s more of a words of affirmation type of person

he’s cuddly in the sense that he’ll be all up for cuddles and physical affection

but wouldn’t be as needy for it as chan

simple words can make his day

whether you say you love him 

or just things to compliment him in general

because he can get insecure sometimes

thinking that those around him are better and that he’s just not good enough to be doing what he’s doing

so your words to comfort and assure him would mean a lot to him

a “you’re doing great” 

or “that sounded amazing” when he just sang something

can 180 flip his day around SaKDa DwIJIbONa eY yO

someone take the internet away from me

like he could be having the most tiring day with nonstop practising and what not

but the moment you say these things

he just grins like the cheshire cat and collects you in a hug

thats uwujin for you

minho (lee know)

this bOi

oh snap

physical touch for days

like

okay he is soft yeS

buT

HE IS ALSO 

not soft

did you see that miguk chum (american/western dance) on asc

minhoe be going all out

bUT FOR THE SAKE OF MY HEART ILL KEEP THIS AS SOFT AS I CAN

okay hear me out on this but he just seems like a tease yknow its like how he teases the members with food :’’)

like on normal days all he wants is to hug you but seeing you flustered is wayyy more amusing

so this is just him being a piece of shit when he teases you to no ends

like if you want to hug him he’ll just run away from you 

or if you want to kiss him he’s gonna tiptoe so that you cant reach him

and then when you’re done asf with him and walk away

he’s gonna swoop in and just smother you with love and affection

but i see him being a real softie whenever he’s tired

will be pretty whiny and clingy when all he wants to do it sleep

and you’re not gonna have the heart to tease him for all the times he did it to you

because he looks too tired and cute

so you’ll let him do what he wants without denying him of your attention

and he’s just gonna cuddle up to you and will probs be the little spoon ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

changbin

okay now we have the darkest member of sk

but also the aegyo king

this duality

smh

but yes getting onto business

i see him really valuing acts of services 

if you see him struggling with something

a simple “can i help” or “is there something i can do” will make his heart go boom boom

because although he knows you can’t really help when he’s stuck with composing or writing

the fact that you thought about him and are willingly asking to help will warm his heart

also loves it when you help him clean up or cook for him

although he feels really bad for making you do it

but deep down he’s just loving it

like all he’d want to do is go home and sleep but thinking about the mess in his room and his grumbling stomach will overpower any thoughts of sleep

when he reaches home, tho, his room is clean and there’s some tasty ass food on the table

and these are the times he just goes asdfldksjf and attacks you with all the hugs and kisses

but this doesn’t mean he takes advantage of you oh no

when you’re having a busy day and he’s at home

you’re gonna come home to a clean ass house, some takeout food and the smell of smoke coming from the kitchen

he tried his best to cook but clearly didn’t succeed

hyunjin

okay this was surprisingly the most difficult to write

because hyunjin is still a mystery

one moment he’s chic 

and the next he’s goofing around with the members

so i think with him it will really depend on the time of the day and his general mood

but mostly he will really value quality time with you

but physical touch will also play an important role in the relationship

rmb when he said that he loves woojin because woojin doesn’t reject his cuddles

my point proven ladies and gentlemen

he will always be touching you one way or another when ya’ll are together

because this boy just can’t get enough of you

loves it when you feed him because he is a sOft boi

his favourite is when you sit on the counter while feeding him and he just stands in between your legs

because then he can see you eye to eye

and just admire you

is the type to interrupt you in a conversation by giving you small pecks

because why not

but at the same time while these cutesy things happen

talking about yourselves will play a very important role to him

because then he will trust you more and open up more and more

which is the most important thing for a lasting relationship

so for this boy, quality time and physical touch will have to go hand in hand

can i get a hwang hyunjin for myself (ಥ﹏ಥ)

jisung (han)

this squirrel

will looooooooove receiving gifts 

not that it’s a necessity for him

like even if you don’t buy the gifts it’s fine

but it’s the thought behind the gift that gets him all feeling squishy and cheesy and all that mush

going back to my point of not buying the gift

he loves handmade gifts more than anything

even a simple message on a torn piece of post-it that has lost its stickiness will mean the world to him

especially when he hasn’t seen you in a long time

he will feel bad if you buy him expensive gifts all the time

because he feels like he should be the one spoiling you

but even if you buy him a rock and told him it reminded you of him

you best bet he’s going to worship that rock to the ends of the world

that’s just the kind of softie he is

loves it when you leave small letters around the house for him to find

the thrill of finding a letter that you put your thought into drives him crazy

will keep every single thing you give him in a memory box and will actually lock it because he doesn’t want the members ruining it 

not because he doesn’t want them to know about it

because trust me the moment you give him something he’s gonna be screaming about it for the next few days to the rest of stray kids

and they’re gonna call you crying asking you to shut him up

felix

this soft bub here deserves all the love in the world

all of them do

but like this boy strikes me as the type who just needs words of affirmation

like you know how he was beaming when jyp complimented him during the final mission on his korean

yes exactly

that’s how happy he gets

i feel like he will constantly need someone to remind him that he deserves everything he has and more

ofc he doesn’t expect you to be praising him non stop

but he appreciates constructive criticism more than just blatant rejection like how jyp did him dirty in ep 8

anyways

telling him that “it was really good but this part could’ve been better” and actually helping him get better will mean a lot to him

which also leads me to think that quality time will also be one of his top love languages

anyone who is willing to hype him up when he’s at his best but also spend time with him when he needs improving is someone he will appreciate for the rest of his life

also loves it when you send him soft messages at ass o’clock because he’ll wake up to your messages

and it’ll immediately make his day so much better

even if he has 10000 schedules that day

pls love him 

seungmin

seungmin strikes me as the type to be really practical about life

and just about the outlook of things

so any acts of service will be enough to get him going asdlfjksaksdljf

because i feel like he is the type to believe “actions speak louder than words”

so if you want to express your love for him, he would appreciate gestures that show your love rather than just you saying that you love him

he’ll never get tired of you asking him if he has eaten or if he has gotten to his destination safely 

because to him it shows that you love and care for him that you are willing to ask him these things

also like changbin, will love it if you help him out with his work

he doesn’t expect you to help him but will be extra extra grateful if you were to help him

especially when he doesn’t ask you to

like if he has a habit of leaving some things around and then forgetting where he put them

and you make an effort to remember this and maybe help him create a space where he can leave these things

this is the shit he signs up for

this shit right here

so if you wanna make your way into this squishy left cheeked boy’s heart, empty words are a no no

stop sleeping on this amazing snail tyvm this has been a psa

jeongin (i.n)

this busan baby that’s killing everyone 

it’s busan’s water i tell you

anyhoo

jeongin is still at an age where i think the maturity in terms of relationships really hasn’t kicked in 

because they’ve been practising for debut and stuff which makes me think he hasn’t had time to really experience the world of romance

so i think he will really love receiving gifts 

bcs he’s a baby

and which baby doesn’t like gifts

but also at the same time

i think he is someone who likes spending quality time > gifts

you know when you’re at that age where all you wanna do is be with your s/o all the time

yep that’s him

he wants to talk to you about his day, his worries, his dreams, this dog he saw on the road and just basically anything 

as long as you’re willing to share everything that happens with you as well

because you naturally form a deeper bond when you share these things

so after a day at practice he’ll come home and join you in front of the tv

but no one’s gonna be watching that shit

ya’ll will just talk about your day and everything that happened while the sound of the tv just serves as background music for your deep talks

also loves loves spending time singing karaoke with you

even if you sound like a dying whale

totally serenades you with trot songs

and it works

because how can you resist this cutie with his braces

∞ end ∞