#but!!! all that aside; updates to come; as usual. and if there's a question u have that's not in the faq; feel free to hmu!!!

[foodiegoogie]

epiphanies over hotpot

james potter x gn!reader ✮ 1.6k summary: james comes to an illuminating realization when he sees you do something so unexpected for him. cw/tags: established relationship, james is SUPER whipped, mention of food, but the vibes are cozy and domestic :> also, we acknowledge the fact that james is a little diva !

note: inspired by smth i saw on twitter that went like, “yeah sex is good and all but will u clean my glasses for me when im wearing the wrong type of shirt” HAHA (...will u?) anyway, hope u enjoy reading this!! <3 i enjoyed writing it sm hehe

James has always been a chatterbox. In fact, it’s usually a cause for concern whenever he goes nonverbal. He’s almost animated with how often he talks with his hands, or how his face contorts into various expressions—each one of them successfully depicting his emotions well. 

You had always been a listener; always preferred to be silent, always preferred to just listen. In fact, you were a good listener; always supplying enough replies to keep the conversation going, asking questions so they could continue talking because you’re genuinely interested in what you were listening about. 

This makes James—the hopeless romantic that he is—convinced that you were both made for each other. But aside from that, he’s also a firm believer of the “opposites attract” phenomenon. He likes to think that’s what makes the two of you so special, too.

Presently, he’s in the middle of bringing you up to date on the latest gossip in his workplace that you’ve been waiting to hear an update from. James is, as usual, using everything he can get his hands on—chopsticks, the few empty dishes on your table, paper napkins, the table itself—to recount to you what he witnessed as best as he could. 

Slightly out of breath from all the enthusiastic talking, James pauses to take a sip of his water. Then, when he continues, he raises a bowl of the steaming hot soup up to his lips. But the hot steam causes his glasses to fog, and he cuts himself off in the middle of his storytelling. 

“—Oh. Well, dammit. Now, I’ve gone blind.” 

You chuckle into the glass of water you’re drinking, eyes trained on James’ fogged up glasses, and the massive, goofy grin on his face as he, too, laughs at his unfortunate situation.

But he’s nothing if not dramatic about it first.

James sighs, exaggerated on purpose, though the smile is still plastered onto his lips. “Ah, well there you have it. The light of my life, laughing at my own expense. How it pains me!” 

You roll your eyes affectionately at his little act, setting the glass of water down in front of you. “Oh, I’m so sorry for laughing at you, my love. Will you ever forgive me for my grave mistake of doing so?”

Your boyfriend, still sporting his foggy glasses, tilts his head slightly to the side as he rubs his chin in thought, feigning consideration. 

“Hmm, well, if you’re offering to compensate me in some way… I have a few suggestions,” James smirks.

You let out a snort of laughter. “Of course, you do.” He only chuckles in response, only deciding now to take his glasses off and get the fog out before he’d actually go blind. James was already bordering on the line of being legally blind, and he’ll be damned if he unintentionally made his eyesight worse by something so stupid as letting it get foggy, and refusing to clean it up after.

Most of all, though, he strives to maintain his eyesight as it is right now so he could keep seeing you in all of your loveliness. 

“Crap,” Your boyfriend frowns, stilling as he looks down at the white dress shirt he was currently wearing. Miraculously, it was still spotless. You supposed he was looking down at some spot where he’d finally managed to drop some food on when he continued. 

“I can’t clean my glasses with this,” James says, his frustration clearly evident with the adorable pout decorating his lips. You couldn’t help but smile fondly at the sight of it. 

“Technically, you’re not supposed to clean your glasses with your shirt, Jamie.” 

He grumbles under his breath. “I know that, duh.”

Then, he pauses briefly, and starts looking around the table for a clean paper napkin. “But I don’t really bring the case and the cloth with me anymore because I wear ‘em all the time anyway.” 

You sigh from exasperation. “Then it’s your own fault that you can’t clean your glasses right now,” You replied, reaching over the table to take his glasses from him.

James was already halfway through another defensive reply when he felt his glasses be taken away from his grasp. 

“Hey, what are you—“

Wordlessly, you start cleaning the lenses of his glasses up with a small, seemingly soft cloth you’d brought out from your handbag. It catches him off guard, and his heart pitter-patters with the feeling he always gets when he sees you for the first time after being apart for so long, or when you kiss him silly in your slightly bolder moments. 

As if it was just natural that you were doing this for him, you continued. “I mean, honestly, James. You’ve been wearing glasses for ages. You should know better by now.” 

He’s suddenly feeling a thousand different things, and thinking a thousand different thoughts, all at once. No, he wasn’t being dramatic this time. It was real. This was real. He was currently watching you, a literal angel sent from the heavens above and so lovingly bestowed upon him as his lover, clean his very own glasses for him. 

Just for him. Like, what?

So, maybe James was being a little dramatic. All you were doing was clean a pair of glasses anyway, there was nothing groundbreaking about it. You weren’t down on one knee and asking him to marry you. 

No, no. That wasn’t it. Actually, he may as well propose right then and there. This simple, yet so warm and thoughtful, gesture of yours had single-handedly made him fall deeper in love with you, so much so that he feels it strongly, he’s starting to think it’s not just the spice of the brothy soup you’ve both been sharing that’s making him feel a little woozy, and emboldened. 

“Marry me,” James blurts out with a breathless, almost dreamy sigh. 

“Sorry, what?” 

His heart kind of drops to his stomach at the nonchalant tone in your words, taking it in an entirely different context than yours. But James knows you really hadn’t heard him, of course. It was more like a murmur than anything that had come out of him. 

He suddenly falls over his words, increasingly getting flustered as you hand him back his glasses. He takes it with slightly trembling hands, prays that you don’t notice, and puts it back on in a rush. 

Once a much clearer sight of you finally comes into his view, James suddenly forgets how to function like a normal human being. Instead, he just stares at you in silent, but unabashed awe. 

“Er, James?” 

“Er.. yes, love?” 

“Are you alright?” 

“What? No. Yeah. M’fine.” He replies at once, mashing all the words in one quick breath. 

“O…kay,” You say, clearly suspicious of his suddenly odd behaviour. “What were you saying earlier? Couldn't catch it, really.” 

“Bury me," James answers, unblinking. "I said, ‘bury me.’” 

“‘Bury you?’” You clarify in a surprised huff of laughter. “Why would I do that?” 

Because I almost proposed to you and nearly put you in the hot seat. 

“Because this broth is just so good,” James punctuates his answer with a quick sip from his bowl of the aromatic, spicy beef broth that he’d been wanting to finish since a while ago. Before–well, before he suddenly felt like marrying you on the spot. 

A beat passes as you try to piece your boyfriend’s vague statements together. “You.. want me to bury you… in the soup?” 

“Yep,” He confirms. “I want you to bury me in the soup.” 

“James,” You chuckle. The corners of James’ lips twitch upward like a reflex reaction to the sound. “I am not burying you in hotpot. That’s ridiculous!” 

“I don’t care. I mean, since when am I not ridiculous?” 

You nod your head thoughtfully. “Okay, true.” 

James continues. “It’s just so good that I wanna take it with me to the afterlife. Heck, I think I’m even gonna ask for its hand in marriage right now.”

Way to go, Potter. Real subtle.

He foresees the teasing comment in your smirking lips. This time, he doesn’t know how to feel. On one end of the spectrum, he kind of wants to throw caution to the wind and kiss you until you forget about teasing him altogether. But on the other side, he’s resigned to his fate; and besides, it’s not like he doesn’t enjoy the added attention, anyway. 

“Oh, so you’re just gonna ask for its hand in marriage right now? Is that it?”

“Yes. That’s exactly what I just said.” 

“So what am I to you now?” 

“The love of my life,” James answers in a heartbeat, shrugging nonchalantly as if the answer was common sense. “Why are you asking this?” 

“Well, since you’re marrying this array of—“ You gesture around your table of various dishes of Chinese cuisine, emphasizing the boiling pot of soup in the middle. “—well, our dinner, I figured I must be out of the picture by then.” 

Your boyfriend’s jaw drops, gasping in mock-horror as he clutches his chest dramatically with his hand. You bite your lip to trap the giggles that threaten to erupt from your mouth. 

The two of you continue to tease and play along with each other for the rest of your time at the restaurant then. All the while, James becomes more aware of the little box sitting in his drawer back at home, containing the beautiful diamond ring that he’d bought on the very same day he’d seen it for the first time.

It made him think of you just as quickly as how you, who wordlessly cleaned his glasses for him, made him think of proposing on the spot. 

can i just say that this relationship is the kind that i want 4 myself ,,, fuck 😭 anywayyyyy thank u sm for reading! likes, reblogs, n comments are always appreciated <3

[ask-train-trio]

~.~.~𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐎 ~.~.~

INTRODUCTION MASTERPOST!!!!!

(ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ɴᴏ ᴀᴜᴅɪᴏ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠɪᴅᴇᴏ, ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs sᴜᴘᴘᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀ ɢɪꜰ ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʟᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴛᴏᴏ ʙɪɢ ᴏᴏᴘs)

This is an askblog for @lunozapp 's Indigo Park OCs! This post contains everything you need to know about this ask blog/AU and its characters! Context, boundaries, references etc. Asks are contextualised a little differently here, so check the blog description for the tl;dr on the context.

Check out issue 1 here!

CONTEXT:

This is DappleTilez24, also known as Tilez. He's a relatively small streamer in his universe's indigo park community, and is known for tirelessly completeing run after run, trying to beat his personal records (with.... varying sucess).

One day, he tries to speedrun a build of the game that he's never seen before...

...and stumbles across 2 MORE Rambleys than usual, much to the surprise - and confusion - of the Rambley we know and love!

Naturally, our hero Tilez is pretty damn confuddled... so he (mistakenly) asks his live chat for an explaination.

This is where YOU fantastic askers come in!

You act as Tilez's live chat. This means you don't even have to answer his queries, just say whatever you want to this interdimentional triplet of trash pandas, just like a REAL insufferable livechat would!

...within reason, of course (jokes aside, please read the boundaries)

[updated as of 04/07/24] CHARACTER REFERENCES: (in the animation i forgot twimbly's GT badges lol)

CHARACTER BOUNDARIES:

I want to make it entirely clear that i see the raccoon trio as brothers, especially with their very similar origins.

This is to say that I would not feel comfortable with any of them being shipped with eachother and I forbid the public sharing of that kind of content. If you see that kind of stuff around, please just mention this to the OP and block them if they refuse to respect it.

FURTHERMORE, please keep in mind that I ( @lunozapp ) am a MINOR. SO DON'T PUBLICLY POST NSFW/FETISH ART OF MY CHARACTERS, PLEASE AND THANK YOU.

However, shipping Twimbly, Ranglore, Rambley and Tilez with other characters that aren't related to them is fine by me (e.g. any of the original indigo characters x any of them, since they're not related)!

Again, please just keep it sfw.

ASK BOUNDARIES:

Pretty basic criteria, really. Just please don't spam the same ask over and over, I will guaranteed see them all unless this thing gets an explosion of attention out of nowhere lol

if i don't answer, its probably because either the question doesn't really fit the kind of story i have in mind for these characters or i just don't feel comfortable answering it. please respect that.

If you have a question for me specifically, start your ask with '[OOC]' (Out Of Character) or just ask me directly: @lunozapp

FURTHER INFO:

Asks are moreso used here as a prompt for conversation rather than the basis of an entire issue. More often than not there will be more than 1 ask in an issue, so going forward I'll make sure to tag everyone who asks without annonymity.

Also, please TRY to keep them as actual questions and not goofy 1-word sentences, the asks help me actually formulate a coherent premise for an issue

I don't OWN the concept of making ocs based off lore.mp4 and the GT thumbnail. if u see someone doing the same, try not to be all like 'OMG TWIMBLY/RANGLORE!!!! THEY ALREADY EXIST THIS IS PLAGARISM YOU CAN'T DO THAT!!!!!11!!11' unless it is blatant plagarism. Just use ur common sense ig

In terms of fanart/other fanworks, A MILLION THANKS IF YOU FEEL CALLED TO MAKE THAT!! The stuff i've gotten so far is genuinely so awesome, make it all you want if you feel called to do so. I'll try to reblog any fanart I find on here. If you want to go straight to asks, just click on the tag '#train trio asks'

alright, that's everything. Now what are you still doing here? Throw 'em a question! Or a compliment!! Or an insult.

or don't idrc just have fun here haha

fun fact!! putting everything together for this took a WEEK

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

"get me a damned matcha" | Chapter 8: January I

{{ Chapter 7: December I | Chapter 9: February I }} Chapter Directory

fun fact i had this chapter written back in like may

if you wanna get tagged for updates, fill out this form here!

✧ pairing ➼ levi ackerman x fem!reader, college x coffee shop x roommates!au ✧ summary ➼ After you find yourself plagued with misfortune due to struggles in your personal and family life, you find yourself needing to move last minute. As a junior in undergrad with little money and little social support, you considered yourself lucky when you found a sublease that was close to campus and was relatively cheap. Unfortunately, it seemed that your roommate did not seem to be so excited regarding your presence. ✧ content/warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, strangers to lovers, alcohol, college-typical parties ✧ word count ➼ ~5.4k

It was already 3:00am and Levi found himself frowning at his bedroom window. He knew that he was going to get even less sleep than usual due to the fireworks that would be going off throughout the night, but it was particularly annoying because the constant bombardment of the colorful explosions in the night sky would also distract him from being able to continue reading his papers. He had set aside time throughout winter break to catch up so that he would be prepared for his research update presentation in April. It was still a few months away, so he knew he had time, but he would prefer to have the heavy reading out of the way before the semester started up again.

However, given the events of the past few weeks, he found himself annoyingly behind on the schedule that he set himself. It seemed that every time he dedicated a night to get caught up on work, he would find something come up that needed his immediate attention. Last week, it was that Hange's friend that promised to petsit their hamsters was suddenly unavailable, so Levi had to sub in for them. The week before, it was when you called him drunk crying over the phone and he had to spend the night with you at a diner to try to get you to sober up so that you could actually speak coherently over what had happened. It seemed like the world was throwing everything at him to prevent him from finishing anything related to actually securing his PhD.

He set the packet of papers down onto his desk with a sigh and shut his eyes as he rubbed at his forehead after another set of fireworks were set off outside, contributing to his rapidly approaching headache. His eyes opened again when he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. 

Levi pulled his phone out and turned on the screen, cursing when his phone lit up with the brightness turned all the way up, setting his vision on fire. 

A frown was already plastered onto his face once he finally got to opening your text message.

> [Matcha Girl (3:04am)]: levi can u come pick me up > [levi (3:05am)]: From where, it's 3am. > [levi (3:05am)]: Also no, it's 3am. > [Matcha Girl (3:10am)]: oh cmon it's not liketou sleep anyway > [levi (3:12am)]: You're drunk, aren't you? > [Matcha Girl (3:15am)]: noooo > [Matcha Girl (3:15am)]: a lil > [Matcha Girl (3:15am)]: just toiiipsy > [Matcha Girl (3:18am)]: leviii PLSLAEEASE idk where i amm > [Matcha Girl (3:19am)]: n my phones about to die > [levi (3:21am)]: You're so annoying.

Levi sighed to himself as he rolled his eyes. He got up, internally questioning why he always felt the need to get you out of these stupid, shitty situations. He was already in outdoor clothes since he wasn't planning on sleeping tonight anyway, so he just had to grab his jacket and brace himself for the cold.

He shot you another text.

> [levi (3:25am)]: Where's the last place you remember being?

He frowned at your lack of a response. He usually wasn't one to get impatient while texting, but this wasn't just an everyday situation in which he was checking in with you. However, given the events of the past two months, his instincts told him that your delay in responding was indicative of bad news. 

Levi immediately pressed the call button, tapping his finger against the back of his phone in anticipation as he waited for you to respond, hoping that your phone hadn't died yet. There was no answer.

> [levi (3:30am)]: _____, answer the phone.

Frustrated at your lack of a response, he shot you another text message. Your phone had rung, so he knew that your phone wasn't dead. His mind immediately began wandering over the reasons why you weren't answering: maybe you were distracted, maybe you lost your phone, maybe you got into trouble. He immediately pressed the call button again, tensing up once he heard your voice mailbox message again.

> [levi (3:32am)]: _____

Feeling increasingly pressured, he immediately shot you another text. You had been fairly quick in responding to him in the past, so an increasingly heavy feeling began to build in his gut as he continued to wait for a response that wasn't coming. He called again. There was no answer.

> [levi (3:35am)]: For fucks sake

He called you again. There was still no answer.

"For fucks sake," he repeated out loud, immediately heading out the door, speed-walking through the dimly lit lobby, grimacing once he opened the door to the outdoors parking lot as the cold air hit his face. The sky was clear and there was no wind, but the winter night was chilly enough that he was relieved when he finally pulled himself into the car and turned on the heat. 

Luckily, there was no snow or ice on the ground, so he didn't have to deal with defrosting. He just needed to turn on the car, turn on the heat, and then drive to wherever you were. The hard part was finding out exactly where you were.

Of all the scenarios he had imagined for himself for his second year in the graduate program, this was not one of them. He never imagined that he would drag himself out of the house on a freezing winter night at 3 in the morning to go rescue some drunk undergrad from a New Year's Eve party that went too far—but you weren't just some drunk undergrad. You were his roommate and someone that he now begrudgingly called a friend. He'd have to deal with your bullshit in the morning whether he came to pick you up or not. At least he'd be able to do some sort of damage control if he went to pick you up now instead of waiting for you to pop up in the morning at the front door.

He pulled out his phone again and looked through your text messages, scrolling up to see if you had mentioned the party you were planning on going to tonight to him earlier. You didn't.

He stared at the last text that he sent you.

> [levi (3:35am)]: For fucks sake

He recalled how you had called him last month, drunk and in tears over something shitty that your friend said that reopened some old wounds that had appeared a month prior. While that situation had resolved itself, the way that you were essentially incoherent as he tried to ground you from all your chaotic thoughts did not give him confidence in how you were coping with the situation you found yourself in now. 

"Shit," he muttered to himself underneath his breath. He couldn't get this heavy feeling to go away. He couldn't trust that you didn't throw yourself into another shitty situation. The last thing he wanted to do was drive around the town through crowds of drunk students to find you, but he knew he wouldn't be able to rest until he dragged your ass home.

The new year had just passed, so there were plenty of New Year's parties littered around campus. Levi briefly recalled you mentioning a party you had gotten invited to and were excited to attend. He found himself frowning at the fact that you likely went alone or somehow got separated from your friends, who would also be too drunk to be reliable in locating you. 

"What a pain in the ass," he muttered, cranking up the heat in the car, with it barely being able to keep up with the cold seeping in from the outside.

Your dumb ass better have dressed up warmly enough to be wandering around in this shit.

He paused for a second upon having that thought. As much as it irritated him, he couldn't deny that he was deeply concerned for your safety and well-being. He was adamant on ignoring you and possibly finding another place to live once the lease renewals came around when you first started living together, but that intent was nowhere to be found now. He did enjoy having you as a roommate, even if you were a constant pain in the ass to him.

Levi sighed as he scrolled through the socials that he knew you frequented to see if he could get any clue as to where you were, but there were so many parties going on around town that it would be difficult to track you down. He never would have imagined himself sitting in the cold playing detective in the middle of the night. No matter what he did, he couldn't get his concern over your state of being out of his head. There were too many wild cards.

The streets immediately off-campus were nowhere near safe enough for you to be wandering alone while shit-faced. He didn't trust you to not get lost on a bus route. Even the parties themselves were not safe, given how wild some of the undergrads can get. If your phone really was dead, you wouldn't be able to call an Uber or even the police in case something happened. 

His thumb hovered over his phone as he noticed that he had stopped scrolling, being lost in his head over all the things that could have gone wrong throughout the course of the night.

"God fucking dammit, _____," he cursed to himself, tossing his phone into the cup holder in between the driver's and passenger's seats before shifting the gears in the car to officially begin his journey of perusing through the town to figure out where you were.

~~~~~

In the end, Levi found himself walking through the cold, his hands buried into his coat pockets as he pushed his way past the undergrads that were too drunk to feel the cold. He had been driving around campus for around an hour, stopping periodically at the bigger parties to ask if anyone had seen you around. Although most of the undergrads were absolutely shit-faced, every party had at least one sober contact that was on bouncer duty or standing around, looking as irritated as he would be if put in that situation.

"There's way too many people coming in and out for me to remember her," one would say.

"I dunno, I might have seen her around. She your girlfriend or something?" others would say.

"No, she's my roommate and I'm going to take your answer as a no," Levi responded in reference to his question as to whether they had seen you.

Some of the other undergrads he had asked had more than distasteful commentary upon him pulling up your picture, with some asking if he had "lost control of you" and let you get too into the party, which immediately placed a scowl on Levi's face.

"She can fucking take care of herself, you ass."

Levi found himself being oddly defensive at some of the distasteful comments coming from some of the younger undergrads. Those comments would have pissed him off no matter who they were directed at, but he found himself especially pissed off when they were directed at you. 

After approaching his fourth or fifth house party, he eventually caught word of a parade that ended at a food truck festival downtown. He vaguely recalled that one night in that diner in which you chatted about being an emotional eater and gravitating towards food whenever you were intoxicated. It wasn't a clear lead, but you at least had a higher chance of being there than sticking around at one of these rowdy parties. 

As he approached downtown, the crowd got thicker, so he had to find street parking a block or two away and walk on foot to where the food trucks were. The one positive from being in a crowded area was that everyone's close proximity kept them (Levi included) warm due to their own body heat, although being this close to people grossed him out. He knew that there were certainly pathogens flying around everywhere from how close people were to each other with no regards for personal space. 

He looked up as soon as he began to smell food and saw the line-up of trucks that had merchants desperately trying to keep up with the drunk, hungry students that were sinking their money into overpriced food at 4 in the morning. He pulled out his phone again to see if you had texted him back.

You didn't.

~~~~~

Why do the lines have to be so long?

That was the only thought that was running through your head. You had been wandering down the line of food trucks in hopes of finding something that both satisfied your drunk cravings and wasn't packed with other students. You finally found one (sort of) at the very end.

It was a hot dog stand that had a line of around 5-6 people, which was pretty short compared to the 15-20 people that crowded every other truck. You felt yourself begin to salivate at the prospect of finally getting some food and reached your hand into your pocket to dig out some cash so you can get yourself a hot dog.

Your hand brushed against your phone and you frowned in confusion, recalling a blurry memory about texting your grumpy roommate about a ride.

How long ago was that? Did it even happen? 

Deciding that you cared at the moment a bit more about getting the hot dog than you were about checking in on Levi (when you weren't even sure if you actually texted him or not), you continued to fumble around until you finally pulled out a small wad of cash.

The hot dog was within reach.

"_____!"

You thought you heard someone vaguely call your name, but by the time it registered in your mind, you were pushing your way past some of the stragglers that weren't in line to get up to the hot dog stand. Nothing was getting in between you and your hot dog.

"_____!" that someone called out again, a bit more urgently this time.

You turned around to see who it was that was trying to get your attention.

However, since you were already moving forward with quite a bit of momentum and since your ability to balance yourself was a bit compromised due to the alcohol, you quickly found yourself tumbling towards the ground.

However, before you could hit the ground, a sturdy arm wrapped itself around your back, preventing you from falling straight onto your ass. You finally looked up and looked into the intense, gray eyes of your grumpy roommate.

"The least you can do is to try to watch your step, you dumbass."

A small smile appeared on your face as your eyes lit up upon seeing him.

"Hi," you said, sounding slightly dazed without taking your eyes off him. "Have I ever told you your eyes are really pretty?"

Levi raised his eyebrows at your comment, shooting an unamused expression your way.

"Your face too," you continued.

Levi rolled his eyes.

"You're drunk."

"No," you said defensively, "just tipsy! Just, tipsy."

You took a breath mid-sentence, feeling winded after losing your balance. 

"What a pain in the ass," he grumbled as he lifted his arm to get you back on your feet. "Get up. We're leaving."

"Why?" you asked, tilting your head.

"Did you not ask me to pick you up?" 

You blinked at him a few times as you recalled that the memory of you texting him actually did happen and wasn't just a figment of your drunken imagination.

"Oh yeah, I guess I did."

"For fuck's sake," Levi said with an exasperated sigh before whispering underneath his breath, "and to think I got all worried for nothing."

"What was that?" you asked, having gotten distracted by the person at the front of line receiving their order. 

"I said you're a fucking pain in the ass," he spat. "Let's go."

He nudged you in the opposite direction and then glared at you when you provided resistance.

"But I want a hot dog," you said with a pout, looking genuinely upset at the thought of not being able to get your long-awaited meal.

"At this hour?"

"Yes!"

Levi groaned as he pinched the bridge of his nose in irritation, almost unable to believe that of all the situations he had imagined while searching for you, that this was the one that actually occurred. 

"Fine," he said with another exasperated sigh. "But you're eating it before we get into the car."

He barely finished his sentence before he briefly lost his ability to breathe when you basically body slammed into him with a tight hug. His eyes widened a bit, not expecting the sudden act of affection. 

"My hot dog hero," you said quietly before pulling off of him, eyes gleaming.

He rolled his eyes at you again, shrugging you off of him before pulling out his wallet and walking up to the food stand.

You stared at him, a smile appearing on your face as your cheeks warmed up.

Levi, who irritated you beyond belief the minute you started interacting with him and who made sure that you knew that he felt the same way towards you, was here, standing in the cold in the middle of the night, buying you a fucking hot dog. It seemed silly, but it made your heart flutter.

No one's really gone out of the way for you like this before. 

It was silly—but it meant a lot to you.

Your eyes glimmered as he shoved the hot dog into your hands. 

"Let's go."

~~~~~

It was nearly 4:30am at this point, so the crowds were starting to clear. You barely felt the cold on your way to Levi's car.  All you could focus on was the warm hot dog in your hands. Every bite you took felt like bliss. You weren't lying when you said that you were an emotional eater. If nothing could bring you happiness, at least food could.

"Hope that shit at least sobers you up," Levi muttered, looking back at you as you continued to happily munch on it.

You noticed him looking and nodded.

"-think so," you said, your voice slightly muffled since your mouth was full.

You immediately saw Levi's face scrunch up in disgust. Feeling your face heat up in embarassment, you instantly covered your mouth with your free hand before muttering a quiet, "sorry". 

Once you finally got into the car, you realized how cold your body was and you felt yourself instantly relax upon the heat coming on and washing your freezing body with warmth. The hot dog had sobered you up at this point and you smiled to yourself as you felt the rumbling of the car as Levi began to drive home.

"Hmm," you muttered to yourself as you watched the night lights pass through the passenger window.

"What?" Levi asked, glancing over at you real quick.

"Why is driving with you always so relaxing?"  you asked, as you pulled up your memory of the drive you had together in November after the not-so-pleasant encounter with your aunt.

"What are you talking about?"

"In November," you said, looking towards him, "when you drove me around because I was upset and-"

Your words were interrupted as you brought your arm up to sneeze into your elbow, facing away from Levi.

Levi groaned.

"You better not be getting sick."

"Nope," you said with a sniffle.

Levi grunted, not really believing you.

After driving for a few minutes in silence, you shuffled around in your seat, an uncomfortable feeling arising in your throat. You knew it wasn't due to the drinking, you've suffered through that enough times to know your limit. You couldn't tell if it was anxiety, guilt, shame, or all three.

"Thank you," you said quietly, looking down towards your knees.

"Hmm?"

He had heard you, but didn't quite know how to respond himself.

"For picking me up," you clarified. "I'm sorry I made you come out so late."

Levi looked over at you, the look in his eyes softening as you continued to stare at your knees, afraid to look at him.

"Just don't make a habit out of this," he said, bringing his eyes back to the road. "I can't drop everything to go looking for you all the fucking time."

A small smile pulled on the edges of your lips.

"You dropped everything to come find me?"

The question was directed towards yourself as much as it was at him.

"You know what I mean."

You didn't respond, but you couldn't hide the growing smile on your face.

He cared. He really did care. Even with how annoyed he was with you 24/7, Levi Ackerman really did care for your well-being and that was enough to make you smile like an idiot. You didn't have very many people in your life that you could confidently say that they cared.

Levi glanced over at you, noticing that you fell silent. 

Tonight was not a good night. Levi had been forced out of the house at 3am and had been on panic mode all night out of fear that you had gotten yourself into a stupid situation when you had just gotten lost while wandering around looking for a fucking hot dog stand. He was annoyed beyond belief—but also incredibly relieved that you were okay. Everything was okay.

A frown grew on his face and his grip on the steering wheel tightened as an irritating thought popped up in his head: he didn't trust himself to not do this again. 

If you texted him tomorrow with the exact same messages, he didn't trust himself to not immediately worry for your safety and then wander out to find you again. He really was depending on you to not make a habit out of this.

Once you finally got home, you immediately planted yourself face-first onto the couch. You were exhausted. The alcohol was wearing off, the headache was coming on, and you felt yourself barely able to keep your eyes open or move another muscle. You weren't making it into your bed tonight.

You felt something soft land on you and looked up. Levi had tossed a throwover blanket in your direction, seemingly in sync with your thought that you were just going to crash on the couch tonight.

"Just don't get sick on the floor," Levi muttered quietly before walking away towards him bedroom. "I'm going to bed."

"Night," you said quietly, shooting him a lazy wave with your hand as you placed your head down onto the couch pillow, hugging the blanket as you slowly drifted off into sleep.

Levi sighed and glanced back at you right before reaching his bedroom. He couldn't tell what he was feeling. He was relieved, pissed, and annoyed at the same time. He was glad you were okay, pissed that you got yourself into a shitty situation, and annoyed at himself for getting as worried as he did. 

"For fuck's sake," he whispered to himself again as he stepped into the bedroom, unable to shake this feeling off, hoping that sleep would help it normalize out, and that he'd wake up tomorrow morning with the events of tonight becoming a distant, detached memory.

~~~~~

You felt like your head was literally on fire. Opening your eyes—even to your dimly lit living room—set them on fire. 

You buried your face into the couch pillow, desperately pleading that your hangover would just go away so you wouldn't have to deal with this all day. After a few minutes with no sign of your hangover disappearing, you slowly turned your head towards the coffee table and forced yourself to peel your eyes open.

It took a few seconds for your eyes to adjust and you had to blink a few times—which did not help your headache.

How did I get home?

You had vague recollections of what had happened the night prior. You remembered panicking on your way to a food truck festival before texting Levi, but you didn't remember much after that. 

Your eyes fell onto the dining table and you blinked a few times at what you found.

There was a cup of coffee on the table, sitting in a thermos to keep warm, as well as a cup of water, and two tablets of Tylenol. You forced yourself to sit up and saw that the coffee thermos was sitting on a piece of paper with a note written on it.

[For the hangover. PS. Your phone's on the kitchen table charging.]

Your face started to heat up as more memories of what happened the night before began to arise. 

Levi had driven out to you to pick you up when he had no idea where you were to begin with. He had dragged himself out of the house in the middle of the night into the freezing cold just to find you, when you weren't in any actual danger. You then vaguely remembered looking into his eyes before drunkenly telling him that he was pretty.

You groaned and placed your face in the palm of your hand, trying to get rid of the rising embarrassment that you were beginning to feel.

Luckily, Levi had left for the day to go do lab work, which meant that you didn't have to deal with the consequences of your shenanigans right this minute.

You grabbed the coffee and sniffed at it. Levi said he didn't make the specialty coffees at his café, but he was still able to whip up a pretty good batch. You gently took a sip of it before immediately wincing once the hot liquid hit your lips.

You cursed to yourself as you put the thermos back down, having not expected the beverage to still be as hot as it was. You quickly switched over to the cup of water to cool off your burning mouth, promptly taking the two Tylenol tablets afterwards to attempt to soothe your headache.

You threw the blanket that you had wrapped yourself in to the side and slowly pushed yourself off the couch, groaning as your head pounded in protest. You slowly made your way over to the kitchen table, rubbing your forehead in an attempt to soothe the pain.

You picked up your phone and checked the time: 11am. Since it was still in the middle of winter break, you didn't have to worry about classes or important obligations for the day.

Having decided that staying awake while working through this headache wasn't worth it, you dragged yourself into your bedroom, shut your blinds, and collapsed into your bed so that you could sleep the hangover off.

~~~~~

It had been a week since you found yourself wandering in the middle of the night during a freezing winter's night after getting fixated on food after attending a New Year's party. You had insisted that you weren't getting sick as a result of it, but that was getting further and further from the truth.

You sneezed again into your elbow, grimacing when you saw Levi glance over at you. You were sitting at the kitchen table on your laptop, attempting to write more of the light novel that was required for you to graduate, and Levi was on the couch, catching up on the papers that he hadn't been able to read. 

"Thought you said you weren't getting sick," he said without looking up at you.

"I'm not," you said, scowling at him for a few seconds before glancing back down at your computer. You squinted your eyes at your screen, trying to remember what your train of thought was before you had been rudely interrupted by your body requiring you to sneeze. 

You felt yourself getting increasingly frustrated at your inability to focus on writing. The words weren't really coming together—you couldn't tell the difference between affect and effect, then and than, how to use a semi-colon properly, or if your dialogue to exposition ratio was balanced. You weren't getting anything done at this rate.

After hearing nothing from silence from you, Levi glanced up at you.

"You've been staring at your screen without moving for like ten minutes at this point. Go to bed."

"Hmm?" you said as you shook your head, snapping yourself out of your daze. "It's only 8."

You sneezed into your elbow again.

A frown appeared on Levi's face.

"If you sneeze one more time, I'm going to have to wear a hazmat suit just to come home."

"God, not everyone's a clean freak like you, Lev'," you said as you rolled your eyes at him.

He gave you a deadpan expression upon you using your nickname for him. It wasn't that different from his actual name and you had just started using it after he came to pick you up. It weirded him out last week when you used it for the first time, but he did find it endearing in a way.

"You're sick," Levi emphasized again.

"No I'm not-" you began retorting before being interrupted with your itchy throat that prompted some coughing that you failed to suppress.

Levi simply stared at you, raising his eyebrows again.

"Okay fine," you mumbled. "I think I caught a cold, probably from running around last week during New Years."

"Wonder whose fault that was," Levi mumbled.

You frowned at Levi and threw a clumped up wad of paper at him across the room.

He immediately caught it and chucked it back at you. You were slow to react and it bounced off your head as you looked back at him with an irritated expression.

Levi sighed as you continued to glare at him.

"How much writing have you gotten done in the past hour?"

You were reluctant to respond, so you didn't.

"Go to bed," Levi said again.

You let out a defeated sigh before gently closing your laptop. Now that you've had a minute to think, you realized that Levi was right. You felt absolutely horrible. Your head was pounding, your sinuses were so inflamed that you felt it in your eyes, and you felt chills incoming, which meant that a fever was approaching.

You shot an annoyed look towards Levi as you walked past the couch into the kitchen, placing your tea mug into the sink. 

"Always gotta be so bossy," you grumbled underneath your breath as you turned away from him and walked towards your bedroom.

"I heard that, you brat," Levi responded without looking up at you.

You turned around and stuck your tongue out at him, which earned you a prompt eye roll. 

By the time you actually collapsed into bed, your body was more than ready to pass out. You were lucky that Levi called you out when he did, as it saved you from having to embarrass yourself in front of him and be subjected to being taken care of by him again. Last week was enough. 

You couldn't get that memory out of your head.

~~~~~

The next time that you opened your eyes, you were completely wrapped up in your blanket, encasing yourself in a cocoon. Your head was pounding and your breath was warm. As soon as you reached your arm out of your blanket to reach for your phone, you felt a chill run through your body.

You were most definitely sick—and likely with a fever.

Fuck. I really can't afford this right now.

You groaned as you rolled yourself out of your comfortable cocoon and forced yourself to stand, having to hold onto your nightstand for balance at the sudden movement. Your body was protesting at your every movement. 

You glanced around the room with a frown, annoyed that you left your laptop out in the dining room instead of bringing it to your room so that you could work while in bed. 

You held your head in a vain attempt to soothe it as you took a few steps forward towards your door, pausing when you stepped on a piece of paper. It was a note.

You bent over and picked it up, squinting so that you could read what it said without having to turn on your obnoxiously bright ceiling lamp. 

[Made a cup of tea for you on the kitchen table near your computer. Don't burn yourself this time.

P.S. If I catch you working while you're still sick, I'm tossing your computer out the window.]

#: @levisbrat25 @gothgril69 @sckerman @berrijam @notgoodforlife @meowjaa @averysmolbear @roseofdarknessblog @bejewelledd @hhighkey @ayame236 @sad-darksoul @velouria17 @kamyru @l1zk4 @layenacreates @lamees004 @whoami-72 @highgoon69 @chaotic-on-main @levishotgf @nube55 @chosos-mascara @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman

[artnerd1123]

DTRH!AU Masterpost

Moving into a new post since I’ve got stuff actually organized!!! It’ll likely get an update from time to time. Apologies to those whom the read more breaks for ‘^^

Everything to do with this au will be tagged #dtrh!au or #down the rabbit hole au Individual characters are tagged with #dtrh![name] 

Here’s an AU PMV for starters! 

Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?

Putting this up here so it doesn’t get super buried- Here’s the fic(s) set in this AU! All Moving Pictures End 

The AU crash course: The premise behind the au is that everything takes place in a pocket dimension controlled by a black magic script. Joey Drew is the one who’s writing/editing this script, and his rewrites affect the world and the characters within it. His constant reshaping eventually twists the world from a sitcom genre to a horror film- hence the horror esque setting, creatures, and plot. The characters didn’t escape the rewrites’ effects either. They’re warped into corrupted versions of themselves. However, these characters end up becoming sentient after awhile. The first one of these to become entirely sentient is Henry. He’s currently the only one who’s all the way out of alignment. A toon gone rogue, if you will. He still goes along with Joey’s “plot,” but it’s more so he can try to reach the other characters than to keep Joey happy or unaware of his actions. His goal is to basically “wake up” the other characters, so they can all stop living in a hellish nightmare studio and actually try and make something nice out of their home. He’s extremely dedicated to his goal. 

Character time!!! toon trio refs / corrupted refs  butcher gang refs / corrupted refs  toon henry ref  toon sammy ref / corrupted sammy ref  toon susie ref / corrupted susie ref  toon allison and tom refs / corrupted allison and tom refs  joey ref / toon joey ref  toon norman ref / corrupted ref  toon bertrum ref / corrupted ref  toon and corrupted grant refs  toon jack ref / corrupted jack ref  toon wally ref / corrupted wally ref  toon and corrupted lacie refs  toon and corrupted shawn refs 

Character relationships/orientations 

Concept art, anyone? toon trio concept work (w/ bonus corrupted bendy n alice) corrupted boris/alice concept work (ft bonus hen) butcher gang concept work (w/ corrupted forms) henry concept work sammy concept work (and more henry) susie concept work joey concept work corrupted norman concept work toon norman concept work  throwing around lost ones ideas 

Misc stuff Henry, but Goop™  Susie and Studio Tea™  Hey Henry, how do u feel about Joey?  Yo hold up, hen and polk are a thing???  Henry’s glasses saga  Regular studio shenanigans 

FAQ: 

How many of the employees are gonna show up? Hopefully all the named ones in the game! Once they’ve got a design, they’re guaranteed to show up somewhere.

Are they really carbon copies of the employees? Is there nothing different about them and their irl counterparts? They started as carbon copies! Latching onto their old traits and their old selves does help them come to their senses. However, different character development happens in script than IRL, so they end up different. Henry, for example, takes up the last name “Ross” when he wakes up (instead of his IRL counterpart’s “Stien”) to differentiate himself :0

So is everyone corrupted on purpose? Yes and no. Yes, because Joey chose to rewrite the script so much that it mangled characters, but no, because he didn’t intend to mangle them in the first place. It just kinda happened.

What makes them corrupted? Corruption is what happens when you can’t hold onto the core of what your character is, and get dragged into what the new script is telling you. It’s when you lose sight of who you are among all the chaos. People who are drawn farther away from their actual selves end up more monstrous. Susie (aka “alice” angel) is a great example of this. Bendy is too! Far be it from his real nature to be a murderous monster.

So can the toons be uncorrupted? Yup! Henry’s our model citizen this time. He looks more like a toon than a normal person, sure, but there’s nothing monstrous about him. That’s because he’s latched onto what makes him Henry. He’s not letting the instability of the world around him shake him up. Otherwise he’d be a goopy mess of ink.

Why’d Joey write everyone so differently that they corrupted? He’s actually very out of touch with people once he starts rewriting the script. Since his memories are getting foggy, he fixates on details that he can remember, and exaggerates them as needed. In fact, he’s hidden tape recorders around the script studio as built in reminders of these character traits.

How’d Henry wake up? And how does he plan on waking everyone else up? Ok… this is a longer answer. It all comes together, i promise. Jus hang with me. Whenever henry dies, he gets sent back to a sort of “first draft” stage. In order to get back to the world he’s supposed to exist in, he has to get through all the layers of ink Joey put down to get to his current script. As one can imagine… there’s a lot. So much so that Henry has to essentially swim to the surface. As he passes through all this ink, he can hear whispers of previous scripts. The deeper he is, the closer these whispers are to what the world used to be like. Seeing as Henry is the protagonist, he ended up dying… a lot. Like, a lot a lot. Joey had a lot of snags in the script to work out. All these times sent into the draft-y ink soup made made Henry slowly realize what was going on. He wasn’t mindless anymore. He knew what was up. After realizing that the world wasn’t right, it didn’t take him long to push for the rest of his consciousness. He plans on using what whispers and memories he can gather to bring everyone else back. He’s not dying on purpose, mind you, but he gathers as much information as he can to help everyone else realize that they’re not who they’re supposed to be.

Wait, memories? Does Henry remember the past scripts now? Not quite? He’s got a good enough memory stockpile to keep himself centered, but he doesn’t always know what’s up ahead as he heads through another studio loop. If Joey happens to rewrite or change around the script, those patches of Henry’s memory blip out of existence. Or at least get hazy. Hen can often tell if Joey’s changed something by how many holes he has in his memories.

Can anyone in the pocket dimension get out? Henry’s the only one who can get out! Joey literally wrote him a back door to the script. It used to be so he could talk to Henry whenever the “story” was over, but nowadays it’s just to judge how fast plot goes via how quickly Hen gets back. All Henry can manage to do is walk around and stare silently. And he can’t even stay out very long. Ink’s unstable in the real world. Gotta go back in n start the horror show over if u wanna live :/

Can Joey go in? Nope! Since he’s not made of ink, he can’t go in. He can watch tho!!! He does so via writing POV shifts into the script, and watches through whatever character it shifted to. Who needs cameras when u got the eyes of black magic toons n inky monsters ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Does Joey know Henry is sentient now? Nnnnot quite? He thinks the magic is being screwy with him. He can’t switch POV to Henry anymore, since the toon’s taken control of himself, and that’s real confusing since the writer doesn’t know what’s up. Plus, like mentioned above, Hen can’t exactly give Joey a sign once he gets out of the studio. Bummer :/

Is Joey gonna majorly rewrite the script any time soon? Nope. He’s to attached to his current plot to change the genre or anythin, so it’s gonna stay as is. With some changes here and there. One musn’t underestimate how many times u can change the order of scenes, or improve dialogue... 

AU Background:

((this is long as shiz, so get some popcorn slfkjs))

Y’all probably wanna know how this whole horror show started. I’ve got two words for ya: Joey Drew. Unsurprising! But he’s our starting point nonetheless. Joey Drew is the retired owner of Joey Drew Studios, a cartoon studio that ran itself into the ground after a decade or two of fantastical cartoons. Money problems aren’t kind to the entertainment industries. However, the studio was still his pride and joy! As are the friends who stuck by him or met him during the time it was open. He kept up with all of them through the years. They were like a little family. Unfortunately, time has a way of changing things. With his friends drifting away, living their own lives, getting up in years, or a combination of the three, Joey wasn’t doing too well. He was lonely. Feeling washed up. Missing the glory days, where he helped work on cartoon scripts instead of submitting horror and mystery shorts to local magazines. Not all that surprising that he turned to something else to cope. This thing being none other than occult magic. Because… of course it is. It’s a habit he’s had for years. Nothing like some demonic rituals to spice up the life of the creative mind behind kids’ cartoons! Especially fun when you’re a man with poor impulse control and a wild imagination. In any case, Joey summons the three main characters of his beloved cartoon series. Bendy, Alice, and Boris! (I refer to these three as the “toon trio.”) He was just as happy that he’d managed to bring them to life as he was to have them around the house. It was like having slightly unruly grandkids with toony superpowers. In other words, they were absolutely delightful!!! He took care of them and admired their antics. It was a great time. … until. Well. It wasn’t. Turns out things that don’t belong in this world get rejected eventually. After a few months, things started go go wayward. The toon trio had difficulties maintaining their forms, moving, engaging in tropes, and a ton of other things. They were miserable. Joey was understandably heartbroken to see this happen to his poor toons. So, like any good person, he tried to do the right thing: put them back on the paper they came from. It didn’t end up working exactly how he’d expected. Everything comes with a price when you mess with demonic ink. The magic not only created a stack of paper instead of a series of drawings, but latched onto an old fountain pen and Joey’s closet. If the closet thing seems odd, it is. But it’s a convenient place to hide ritual pentagrams! So, closet it is. Upon frantic examination of the papers, Joey discovered it was a script. A black magic infused script. Three names up top told him the toon trio were the only characters. A bit of experimentation led him to discover that the magic-infused pen was the only thing that could interact with the script properly. Further experimentation showed him that the script had made his closet into a pocket dimension. The contents? Whatever was in his new script. This is where the real fun begins. The new magic script practically floored Joey with awe. He had a world he could shape however he wished! He could run all those scripts he’d never gotten to put in production! He could watch his toons frolick! He could even use it to play with ideas he’d never gotten to explore. The possibilities were endless! 

((Of course, you might be wondering if Joey… y’know. Knew the toons were still alive. Because they were, they were just living in a pocket dimension now. In short? No. He didn’t. He carefully tested a few things with the script, just to make sure. All the toons did was what he wrote down. They moved like they were alive, but didn’t act that way. Plus, the dimension made them blank slates. They didn’t have any characterization in there to make them truly alive. So! For all intents and purposes? He saw them as you would any other character you write. A visual extension of his imagination. Ok mini rant over, back to the story--))

Playing with the toons was amazing. Joey hadn’t had fun like that in years! It was his little secret world, populated by his cherished toons. He could make believe whatever he wished. Eventually, though, loneliness started to catch back up to the old man. His friends… his family… life… it all went on. He just felt left behind. And what does Joey do when he doesn’t feel good? Not cope healthily, that’s for sure. Onwards to more occult magic! Only this time, he tries something… different. The toons were lonely. They deserved company. They deserved someone to take care of them. A familiar face. Maybe someone who helped Joey create them in the first place. Someone who’d just sent Mr. Drew an old letter and a card, since he hadn’t seen him in awhile… … someone like Henry. Using the magic pen, Joey traced over Henry’s note. Far from ruining the precious letter, it transferred “Henry” into the script. It’s not the real one! Basically a carbon copy, fresh from the time period that Hen first wrote the note in. Seeing as Henry’s letter came from around the time the cartoon studio was going strong, it’s an old version of him. But it was still Joey’s old friend. Just… toony. Toon Henry reacted just as his living friend would. If he wrote dialogue? He spoke it like Henry would. If he wrote some action? The toon put a classic Henry twist on it. Delighted, Joey returned to his script with renewed vigor. Toon Henry got to spend plenty of quality with the toon trio as the days went on. Thus began a trend of toonification. Missing one of his old friends? All Joey had to do was grab something with their old handwriting on it, and trace them into the script! There’s a carbon copy that acts just like the real deal! A fine compromise, right? … Right? Not exactly. It was fine at first. Joey made what could probably qualify as a sitcom-style story for the toony world to run on. His friends, at this point, all populated the studio. The premise was that the toons (now including the butcher gang!) had been summoned while he was still running the studio, and got up to hijinks with the rest of the employees. A hefty dose of actual studio drama- turned comedic, of course- kept the whole thing almost real. Joey even featured himself once or twice, but only in allusions, or a disembodied voice. He wasn’t about to let a carbon copy of himself have all the fun. It made him feel less lonely. More included. A fantasy world of never ending fun and heartwarming moments. How unfortunate it is that life doesn’t follow this pattern. Morality is a hard thing to come to terms with. So is sickness. Especially that of a friend. … it was just one rewrite at first. One alteration on a bad day. After all, using writing to cope is perfectly acceptable. One bad episode in the midst of sunshine doesn’t discount it all. One uncanny occurrence, though, doesn’t usually stay singular. It didn’t take long for the solitary rewrite to become two rewrites. Then three. Four. Six. Ten. Twenty. Fifty. More and more and more. Until the happy honey colored studio slipped into sinister sepia. This wasn’t the old script anymore. Not by a long shot.

The setting? A studio of shattered dreams.   Your protagonist? Henry. His goal? Survive long enough to escape.

~It’s quite th͝e̵͞͏ ͠M̕a͘sţe̛̕r͘p̕i̵͝e̡ḉe̡̨͜~̡̛

[quirklessidiot]

title : cigarettes and parfaits [4]  pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, slice of life, josei, angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au

Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right? Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, cliche fluff, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT)

Notes: lil development right there HAHSHSHHS , yes tojis appearing soon guYS hddhdhdh thank u for ur patience ily all and yall stay safe and drink lots and ltos of water!! sorry for the late update!

Masterlist || taglist || [prev ; next] [updates; every saturday!]

You stare at the ring on your hand as you stand next to Nanami Kento in the grocery shop, you and him have agreed to see each other and go out once a week while fixing up the divorce papers. 

Last week you both had gone to a cafe after work but had to end early since Yuuji had fell down the stairs (despite being athletic, the boy was awfully clumsy). This week, you both decided to do something mundane.

Grocery shopping.

“Hm, what does Yuuji think about this?” You asked, showing the man some bars of rice krispies, “He seems to be a sweet-tooth.”

“Sukuna is the sweet-tooth, Yuuji isn’t really picky with food.”

“Huh,” You hummed,  “Sukuna seems so soft despite all the tattoo’s.”

Nanami rolls his eyes at your statement, “He’s just, as kids like to call these days, a nerd.” he retorts, taking the peanut butter off the shelf and carefully placing it in the grocery cart, “He enjoys mathematics and art,”

“Ah, hence the tattoo’s.” you thought out loud.

“I almost lost it when he went home a few months ago looking like that.” He sighs, running his hands through his hair, “It was a sign of rebellion, saying that he didn’t want to move to Tokyo.”

You chuckled, eyes on him, “Must’ve shot up your blood pressure, Kento.”

He clicks his tongue in dismay, the memory still fresh. Nanami Kento    unlike what Gojo Satoru said    was a very easy person to like and accompany. Ever since that ‘mild’ mishap two weeks ago, you’d have calls and little quick meet-ups aside from the once a week dates. 

At times it felt like the little wedding at the Izakaya hadn’t happened, it was as if you were just going out with him.

Nanami Kento didn’t even have to try so hard to make you comfortable, he was just...there and everything just seemed right. He had easily fit right in with your routine.

You continue to watch him and he stops in the middle of his tracks, blinking heavily, “Ah,” he mumbles, placing a hand over his eye.

“Oh,” you paused in your tracks too, “Are you alright, Kento?”

“Just dust,” He mumbles, “It probably got in.”

You hold back a laugh, how mundane, “Here, let me…”

You slowly take his hand away from his face, his eyes shut tight, trying to hold in the pain from the dust getting in his eyes, “Do you mind bending down a bit lower, Kento?” you ask, “I’ll have to blow it out of your eye.”

Nanami follows your orders and bends down. You slowly cup his cheeks and lean in closer to his eyes and softly blow. You notice the slight twinge of his body, the reaction making you inwardly giddy, “Feel better?” you whispered.

The older man opens his eyes and only then do you notice just how close you two were with each other. For a moment, movement around you is slow and you don’t even notice Maki Zen’in standing right in front of you along with Yuta Okkatsu.

“Sensei?”

You finally snap back to reality when you hear that very familiar voice calling you out. It seemed like Nanami had been caught up in the moment too, “Oh,” You cleared your throat, letting go immediately of Nanami’s face and jumping back, “Maki-chan.Yuta-kun. What a surprise.”

The young girl narrowed her eyes while Yuta’s ears were evidently red, signaling that he felt very embarrassed to walk in on that moment, “Hi sensei.” Yuta greets, clearing his throat, “I-uh sorry about that, I told Maki to walk away and-”

“It’s fine, Yuta-kun.” You laugh, a bit nervous. What would happen if she told Yuji and Sukuna about this? You knew how Maki was sort of close with the twins, although she did not know who Nanami was, she may describe him and if the boys were smart enough to catch on with it, you’d be entangled in it pretty quickly and you weren’t ready to meet them as their ‘oji-san’s’ partner. 

You were a bit nervous and it was showing.

Nanami takes quick notice of this and slowly wraps his fingers around yours, a small smile appearing on his lips, “Good afternoon, you must be my partner’s students.” he greets, the man had a way with younger ones, you could only imagine how he was as a father figure to the boys growing up,  “It’s nice to finally put some faces on the kids that Y/N loves to gush about.”

Unlike your nervousness a while ago, this man is calm, cool, and collected. You almost envy him at how good he’s doing this.

“At least you picked someone better than Toji-ojisan.” Maki nods, “This guy looks actually more serious with life than him.”

You feel Nanami’s brow quirk up at what she just said.

“A-Anyways, Sensei…” Yuta clears his throat, “We’ll leave you and your boyfriend together. See you at Math class tomorrow!” He hurriedly grabs Maki’s wrist and zooms away at a speed of light. Leaving you two awkwardly standing there.

“Toji?” Nanami asks, curiously peering at you, “An admirer, I assume?”

“Megumi’s otosan.” You mumbled, embarrassed, “He likes to play jokes and all that. It’s nothing serious.”

“Hm.” he mumbled, a small dismayed look crossed his features and you wonder why, “If he does anything uncomfortable, you can pull my name out. I wouldn’t mind.”

“I’ll be sure to take note of that.” 

You both continue your way down the grocery aisle, not even noticing that he still has his long hand wrapped around yours.

“Y/N-sensei…” Nobara drawled, placing her head on top of the wooden end of the mop, “How come we never knew you had a boyfriend?”

“Oi,” Megumi growled, “You’re supposed to be cleaning.”

“You’re just jealous that Y/N-sensei didn’t get to be your new okaasan.” Nobara bit back, putting her tongue out. You watched as the raven-haired boy chunk the blackboard eraser at her direction, a vein popping in his forehead.

“Stupid,” He replied, “I’d never let Y/N-sensei near the jiji.”

“What’s he like, Y/N-sensei?” Junpei asked, tapping his chin, cutting the argument short,  “I heard Maki-senpai talking about him.”

You watch as Yuuji placed his head on his best friend’s shoulder, “Yeah, she was telling me how older he looked than you.” he exclaimed, you nervously gulped down. Yuuji sure wasn’t helping the situation at all.

“Well,” You chuckled, trying to remain calm and oblivious, “He’s nice and he has kids.”

“Ha.” Sukuna droned, stopping whatever he was doing,  his punishment     despite not being given any by Nitta    was helping the cleaners clean for the whole week, much to his dismay, he had to follow or you’d be giving him a slip, “You’re dating an old man? I thought the reason why you didn’t date the Zen’in-jiji was because he was old and he had kids.”

“Oh.” you looked down on your books on the desk, embarrassed, “I don’t have a problem with kids. In fact, I’d love to meet them.”

“Wah,” Yuuji’s eyes were sparkling now as he hurried in front of you and placed his elbows on top of your table and head on top of his hands, “I hope I really get to meet someone like you, sensei.”

“Stupid, I doubt any sane person would want to go with you.” Nobara said across the room, making Yuuji glare at her and started teasing her.

You chuckled once again at their antics. Meanwhile Sukuna continues to stare at you, eyes narrowing especially at the ring on your ring finger. For some odd reason, it held quite the familiarity.

Yuuji likes to think that Nanamin is the best godfather out there, technically, he was like a father to them already. So he had always wondered why he never got married, he was sure that when they were out a few times, many women would crowd for their ojisan. 

His father’s very close friend, Haibara-ojisan had mentioned one fleeting moment back when he was babysitting them that Nanamin was very secretive on who he liked that even he didn’t know if he’d ever been in a relationship.

But things were different these days, for the past two weeks, he’d have one day wherein he’d go home later than usual. It was odd to say the least    and not like he minded really, they were high school kids after all     since Nanamin hated overtimes.

He mentioned it to Sukuna but his twin just rolled his eyes and said, “Man probably needs to chase the bag or something, he technically is paying for this nice house and two freeloaders here.” 

Yuuji doubted it though! Nanamin earned pretty well and he didn’t really need overtime since he was technically the boss or so he heard from Geto-ojisan a few nights ago.

So while he was making them some katsudon for dinner that night and Yuuji was doing some homework for your class, he decided to ask the question.

“Saaay, nanamin-ojisan…” he drawled, placing his pen down, “You’re coming home a lot later than normal these days…”

The older blonde turns to the younger twin, face still straight-lace and stoic, something that Yuuji was accustomed to, “Work has me by the neck.” he replies shortly.

“Every wednesday’s?” he quips, tilting his head to the side.

“Yes.”

“You aren’t dating anyone?”

Silence erupted between them, the only sound could be heard was the sizzling of the chicken on the pan, “What made you say that?” he asked stiffly and maybe, if Yuuji was ignorant, he wouldn’t have noticed the slight twitch of his brow but he wasn’t.

Yuuji prided himself to be an observant person, someone had said he could pass off to be a detective in the near future, he had the agility and the observation skills (sukuna said otherwise though and said he’d get himself killed if he were to ever enter that field)

“You sometimes have that weird look on your face when you look at your phone.” the boy pointed out, “But Sukuna says you’re just chasing the bag so maybe he’s right, he’s kind of the smarter twin after all.” he mumbles the last part with great disdain.

Nanami lowers the fire on the stove and places his hands on the counter in front of Yuuji, “What if I told you I was sort of seeing someone?” he mused, humoring the young boy. 

“Are you really?” Yuuji’s eyes widened, surprised written all over his features, “What are they like, Nanamin-ojisan? Are they pretty? Do they know about us?”

“Oi what’s the noise about?” Sukuna’s raspy voice cuts through Yuuji’s excited one as he enters the kitchen, hair still wet from the shower and in house clothes with a towel hung on his neck.

“I told you Nanamin-ojisan was seeing someone!” Yuuji yelled, eyes sparkling since he was right this time, he quickly returned his gaze back to the older man, “When do we get to see them? Are they nice? How’d you guys even meet?”

“You’re seeing someone?” Sukuna spat, eyes wide in complete surprise, “How’d you even get someone to stay around with your uptight attitude?”

“Yah!” Yuuji yells, “Nananmin-ojisan is nice with women unlike you, no wonder girls are very scared to approach you!”

“Shut up,” Sukuna grumbles towards his twin then turns towards his godfather, “How the hell did you even meet?”

Nanami just shrugs, telling them they’ll know soon enough as he returns to his cooking. The boys seemed to dislike his answer though and continued to bug him. After cooking dinner and having their fill, he returns to his room and whips out his phone, a text message from you saying, ‘hey, the boys asked me about you earlier. They heard from maki-chan.’

The blonde wonders if he weren’t drunk, would he even consider doing this sort of thing? Dating was really out of the question, he admits he isn’t in the right place to go out with anyone especially with a young person like you. 

He thinks he’s taking advantage of the power-dynamics since he’s older.

He doesn’t even deny how weird it was that you're still hanging around him especially when you had a far richer man as one of your admirers. Satoru may or may not have overhead Yuuji gossiping about you one time and your ‘relation’ with Megumi’s father, it was definitely a small world and judging from the Toji you had mentioned a few days ago, it wasn’t hard to connect the dots that it was actually Toji Zen’in, a member of one of japan’s high business clans.

He shakes his head before pressing the call button, it only takes a few rings until you answered, “Hey kento.” You greeted, “What’s up?”

He hears the sound of a whizzing electric mixer on the other line.

“Boys gave you trouble?”

“No,” he could almost feel the smile on your words, “They were just surprised I liked a man with kids.”

“I reckoned, Yuuji seemed to have caught up too in my side. Been asking why I’m going overtime.” 

Silence settled between you two for a moment and Nanami wonders if you’re scared out of your wits. You might be backing out this deal after testing those waters, “Maybe you should tell me when I could meet them then? We wouldn’t want them to run into us during one of our outings or when we’re fixing up the divorce.” you replied softly.

“Hm,” he mumbled, “I’ll be sure to ask them about that. For a temporary setting, you sure take this matter quite seriously, Y/N.”

“Well, I did say I’d help you out.” 

A small smile reaches his lips as he hears your small and shy voice. It seemed like having people to check up on you by the end of the day wasn’t so bad, after all.

taglist [if crossed out, i can’t tag u ; - ;]

; @coldbookworm  ; @frankenstein852  ;  @neavil  ; @shephard17895  @kristineyoshaii ; @airybnb ; @okachansenpai ; @amortentiaxo ; @rinvtaro ; @franko-pop ; @kozutenshi ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant ; @bleepop ; @kaldoesthings ; @moonlitdabi ; @chococroissant ; @pettybroccoli ; @nixxona ; @kiyoo-omi ; @omibaby ; @bokkunto ; @peccobagnaia ; @sangwoahbigbussy ; @inu-makki ;  ; @megumiisee ; @softieelorelylove ; @azellianna ; @haruhuiii ; @restless-human67 ; @tsukkisfatsimp ; @taihjj ; @shayiswifey​ ;  @roione​

@Kurok1717 ;  @hcn421 ;  @shinhiromi ;  @airybnb ; @katshuya ; ​@atsuhaya ;  @donotcallagain ; @answerthesirens

[honklore]

hello! i just found ur blog and omfg i’m in love with your writing style! may i pls have some soulmate au hc’s for a reader who’s an artist? (i’m indecisive so you can choose who the hcs are with!) so like (insert cc u write for here) has got paint stains on his hands and like assorted sketches and stuff on his skin all the time from his soulmate. ty so much!! :]

masterpiece | quackity

(gn reader, quackity is the loml, reader is so talented but v messy, chat teases q to no end, quackity is the biggest softie in the world but refuses to acknowledge it, plantain slander)

listen to: rainbow connection (cover) by sleeping at last

sweet quackity :((

it starts when he’s eighteen, and it happens like almost immediately

he got these splotches of purple on his hands and his mom was like ?? are u getting into fights ?? are you okay???

and q rlly doesn’t mind aside from the weird questions when the colors are a little too close to red or purple

but!! nowadays mostly you just sketch w a pen

it’s during your classes usually,,, ur an art history major and you need something to occupy your hands (which is actually why you started drawing in the first place)

so during the day quackity will acquire lil sketches of famous paintings,,, or sometimes originals,,, but they’re always washed off before the day is done

sometimes random art facts/theories/studies but he has no idea why someone would write him about van gogh’s use of color

*cue u aggressively scrubbing your skin in the shower bc you always forget how permanent the ink is*

quackity is sort of... hesitant when it comes to writing on his skin. esp with streaming, he’s scared that fans will react badly ,, that negative thought keeps him at bay most days

but sometimes he writes lil notes on his legs,,, where chat won’t see anything ,,,, and they’re always either rlly sweet or rlly weird

(hope ur having a good day)

(hey bestie :P )

(soulmate my beloved)

(will u be the howie mandel to my dr. phil)

that last one made you genuinely worried for your future

badly drawn picture of a duck holding a briefcase (this is me)

which confuses you but as he draws more, you begin to associate him with ducks, and sometimes the duck wears a tie, and sometimes a beanie, and one time he had a giant blue axe which kind of concerned you

but you digress

when you get stressed u finger paint

and it’s just a way to create chaos and feel the cold paint on your skin like idk it’s relaxing yknow :)

quackity is streaming

and he doesn’t realize what’s happening. he’s reacting to attaway general,, and he’s kind of invested

it’s only when he pauses it to make a point that he notices

and he tries to hide it but chat notices right away

panicked!quackity

it’s not that he doesn’t trust chat he just knows things can get negative quickly and he wants his space to be free of that

but someone donates “artist q?”

and quackity lets the joke run

he stands up and pulls the mic super close to his mouth

“i’m in my artist arc chat! nihachu watch out >.>”

“CHAT WE’RE POPPIN OFF I AM A PAINTER NOW I PAINT”

it’s literally so silly bc q knows that chat knows but they’re letting him do his bit

and later that night he checks twitter and artist q is trending, but quackity’s soulmate is also trending

it’s all mostly supportive, and there’s already some rlly endearing fan art of quackity with paint all over his hands

quackity private tweet: ❤️❤️❤️

and he gets a lil confidence boost after that

answers questions abt u on his alt

tells the story of his mom thinking he was getting into fights

“guys paula is still my number one and my soulmate will just have to understand that”

“we already agreed we would both reject each other for taylor swift chat it’s fine”

answers donos and doodles on his hand

which he can do now bc chat knows!!!!

(you’re so talented your honor)

(have you ever seen attaway general?)

(charli d’amelio is in it)

(charli d’amelio is in it shit dixie sorry)

and you’re like !!! it’s on my hand !!!! it’s not hidden at all !!!

this image is so endearing to me like you’ve got paint stains all over your hands and quackity’s scrawl is filling in the empty spaces like he didn’t want to interrupt your work

duck with a beret, a mustache, and a paintbrush (this is me now)

ik he is going to share the most mundane things in a way of showing his love

(i listened to this song the other day)

(i bought a literal plantain today those things are big as shit)

(update: not good :/)

(i’m writing lore)

(i have an exam tomorrow)

just :(( sweet quackity wants u to know every little detail abt his life bc he wants u to know him

and you reply when u can

(added to my playlist!)

(i like plantain chips but i’ve never had the fruit alone)

(rip buddy :/)

(lore? like fnaf?)

quackity finds out you know extensive fnaf lore and the two of you stay up arguing about which is worse: the bite of ‘87 or the bite of ‘83

both of your legs look like newspapers that night and it takes a lot of scrubbing to get all of those off

one day you’re painting smth and quackity randomly gives you his discord

(add me and we can watch game theory together and see who is right)

the two of you end up watching it and getting in call with each other

when you hear his voice it’s like everything falls into place

he fills in all the empty spaces,,, answers all the questions you didn’t realize you had,,,, and he’s so wonderful that you find yourself missing him dearly whenever he’s not on call with you

you join him in calls on his streams sometimes like for jackbox or when he’s cooking

“CHAT MY SOULMATE IS A CHICA KINNIE”

you stop joining him on calls on his stream /s

but chat loves you and always takes ur side over q’s

you get tons of followers on your art account and you even get to sell some of your paintings!!

ur new favorite colors to use are blue and yellow i don’t make the rules

but everyone starts to catch on and they find it really sweet

you catch up on quackity lore solely for him and declare yourself a c!quackity apologist

you’ve definitely retweeted the meme that’s like “if villain bad why hot”

when u guys meet quackity kisses your forehead :((((

when you

a drawing of two ducks holding hands (this is us)

thank you for the kind words and for requesting !!!

[cloudywriter]

promposals

rowaelin month - september 1st

prompt: i just realized i’m desperately in love with you 

hey guys!! it’s finally rowaelin month and i’m literally so excited you have no idea. sadly, i don’t have time to do every day but i’ll do as many as i can. i can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with. happy writing/reading! (this is just some straight fluff) 

masterlist, AO3

~~~

The school was abuzz, anticipation hung thick in the hallways during each passing period. It had been that way for a week or so now with prom on the horizon. Everyone was constantly on high alert for the next promposal, most desperately hoping it would be their own. Girls hung around their lockers inconspicuously for far longer than necessary and boys tried to play it cool while secretly fretting over who to ask and how to do it.

Rowan was over it pretty quickly, but he’d likely have to suffer through the next month of promposal after promposal. Today was no different, there was an asking in the parking lot before school, one in his first-period English class, another in the hallway after. He couldn’t escape it. 

Thankfully, Rowan wasn’t quite as grumpy as he used to be due to a certain blonde worming into his life a few years ago but he was still Rowan. Sullen and reserved as ever. That fateful blonde being the only one to draw him from his shell. 

Rowan sighed, aimlessly scrolling around on his phone. It was the passing period before his 3rd-period class, AP Biology, and Rowan was leaning against Aelin’s locker.

Aelin always stopped by her locker after her photography class to put her camera away and then they’d head to class together. It was their routine, the same every day. Not yet broken during their entire senior year which was quickly coming to a close. That was a subject Rowan didn’t want to broach though.

He cleared his head of those unsavory thoughts. Rowan could tell yet another proposal was gearing up, Ilias came around the corner holding a poster board in one hand and a bouquet of assorted flowers in the other. At that moment too, Aelin turned the corner, giving Rowan a small smile as she hurried towards him. 

Rowan’s cold resting face tugged into a smirk as she approached her already open locker. Rowan always took it upon himself to open it for her in advance, Aelin tended to fumble with the locks that required a specific number combination and artful twisting. 

As Aelin stored away her camera and shut her locker door with a thud, a gasp down the hallway had them both turning around. 

Ansel was there, her hand cupping her mouth, clearly unsuspecting of Ilias and his proposal. They both watched as Ansel excitedly agreed to prom with Ilias and took the flowers from his outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug. 

Aelin turned her attention away from the happy couple and began to walk towards their next class, Rowan following suit. They progressed for a bit in silence until Aelin spoke up. 

“I hope Chaol asks me to prom soon,” she confessed. 

Rowan almost choked, that single sentence baffling him. “Chaol?” He asked incredulously. 

“Or Dorian,” Aelin shrugged, crossing her arms in front of her. Rowan was suddenly feeling very panicked, like a fish that had accidentally discovered land, flopping around in search of water in a frenzy. To say he felt confused was an understatement. Rowan hadn’t given prom much of his brainpower. He hadn’t even considered asking anyone. He’d just assumed he’d go with Aelin. Why would he have thought otherwise? They did everything together; he’d expected prom would be no different.

When they sat down at their blacktop table in biology Rowan silently floundered as he tried to think over this revelation. Why would Aelin want to go with someone else? Usually, before class started, he and Aelin would joke around until the teacher told them it was time to reel it in but today Rowan stared ahead, picking at the skin of his thumb. A nervous tick he’d developed throughout high school. 

Should he ask someone else then? He couldn’t even think of anyone else he tolerated enough to spend the night with. Maybe Lyria? She was nice enough, always sharing her notes with him in English when he was too busy with lacrosse to do the reading. She was quiet, soft-spoken. Absolutely nothing like the girl sat next to him. That thought made him frown. Remelle? No, he could barely stand Remelle, but he knew she liked him so at least she’d definitely say yes. 

Rowan was pretty much out of luck. Aelin and his friend group were to whom his time was devoted to, he didn’t branch out much beyond them. 

He thought of Aelin all dressed up, maybe in a golden gown that catered to her love of theatrics. Possibly in a deep green that complemented her bright eyes and skin tone. He imagined her with her hair loosely curled and flowing down her back. The delicate, golden Kingsflame silhouette necklace he’d gotten her for her 18th birthday clasped around her neck. It was easy for Rowan to conjure up that image but he couldn’t picture her looking like that and holding onto Chaol’s arm. It felt so intensely wrong to even consider it. 

It was always him. He always imagined her with him. They were a package deal in Rowan’s mind, but apparently not in Aelin’s. 

Aelin seemed to be catching onto Rowan’s internal dilemma. Throughout the duration of the class, he could feel her watching him out of the corner of her peripheral, trying to gauge what could be wrong. She stayed quiet though and dutifully continued her notes that mostly consisted of a collection of small doodles. Rowan couldn’t help but watch and wonder how she truly felt about him.

For the rest of the school day, Rowan pretty much blew Aelin off. He sat between Lorcan and Fenrys at lunch instead of the 2 seats on the right side of the circular table that always housed Aelin and himself. He told her not to wait up in the stands during his lacrosse practice and to head home on her own instead. He could tell she was confused maybe even a little hurt but Rowan couldn’t bring himself to push aside his mass of feelings that had him acting strange. 

He wasn’t even completely sure what was wrong with himself. The thought of Aelin accompanying another guy to prom shouldn’t affect him like it was; they were only best friends nothing more. She had free reign to go with whoever she wanted and she could get whoever, Aelin was a beautiful girl he wasn’t blind to that. He’d just thought it’d be him. 

All throughout lacrosse practice, Rowan was distracted, missing the ball or the goal when he had it, a stark difference from his usual skill. His coach had already pulled him aside once and asked if he was feeling okay only to be given a grunted yeah before putting him back in. He only grew more upset with Aelin as he pondered the day’s events instead of keeping his head in the game. Some part of him knew it was irrational but he couldn’t help it. Why wouldn’t she want to share one of their last big moments of high school together?  

And that’s how he continued to feel as he made the short drive home with his hefty lacrosse bag weighing down his shoulder and his school bag heavy on his back. When he finally entered the home he sighed, the scent of his mother’s cooking filling his nostrils. Honestly, he’d rather stay up in his room and stew than sit through family dinner right now but he knew it’d only prompt more questions from his parents. So he dropped his things by the door much to his mother’s chagrin and collapsed into one of the dining table’s chairs. 

“Feeling alright, son?” His father’s silver brow rose, already catching on to his foul mood. 

“Yeah, just tired,” Rowan confirmed, taking a sip of water. 

His mother entered then, a dish of pasta cupped between her oven mitts that she placed in the center of the table. “How was practice?” She asked sweetly, stripping her hands of their cover and sitting down. 

“It was fine.”

Rowan’s mother and father exchanged a look between themselves. He was normally much more talkative, always giving them updates on school, on plays they’d done during practice, on Aelin. Rowan chose to ignore their concerned expressions and instead served himself a helping of dinner silently. 

His phone buzzed then from inside the pocket of his shorts. Rowan pulled it out to check the message and frowned at the screen. 

fire-breathing b queen👑 : r u okay? 

He stuck his phone back into his pocket instead of typing a reply and forced himself to eat the rest of his dinner. He only half-listened to his parents’ conversation about their days and what was going on in his dad’s office. Rowan knew he was stewing again, falling into a spiral of uncertainty. 

“Rowan, honey, are you sure you’re okay?” His mother pressed, worry lining her brow. 

Rowan’s lips formed a thin line. No, he wasn’t okay. 

In a split-second decision, Rowan decided he was done dancing around whatever was going on between him and Aelin. “I need to go,” Rowan said suddenly, standing up from his chair that loudly scraped across the floor. His parents looked surprised by his outburst but didn’t stop him as he grabbed his keys from the little table by the front entrance and left. 

Rowan didn’t even need to look at the road to know the way to Aelin’s house. The route was in his bones now and within a few minutes he was pulling up in front of her large white house. He hopped out of his truck, not even bothering to lock the doors before he pounded on her green-painted front door. 

The door opened with a squeak and he saw Aelin standing there in one of her nightgowns that drove Rowan absolutely mad. 

“You’re not going to prom with Chaol,” he rasped, pushing the hair falling on his forehead back with his hand. 

“Huh?” Aelin was clearly confused as to why Rowan had come knocking at her door without preamble. 

“You’re not going with him,” Rowan once again declared, standing his ground, ready to get everything off his chest before he lost the courage. 

“Ro, I don’t get what you’re going on about. He hasn’t even asked me and if he doesn’t ask me I don’t know who’d I go with,” she admitted, her hand still holding the door open and her mouth in a serious line. 

Rowan surges forward at that, gripping both of Aelin’s hands in his own. “You’d go with me, Aelin. I want you to go with me,” he pleaded with her, lifting her hands up to his chest. “Aelin,” he continued, “I don’t want to go with anyone else but you. I want to do everything with you, go everywhere with you. Gods, Aelin, you’re like my reason to breathe, to get up in the morning.”

“Row-” Aelin tried to interrupt, her blue eyes going wide. 

“No, just let me finish, I- I know that sounds crazy and I know it’s so out of the blue and you didn’t expect me to show up outside your door like this and start professing my feelings,” Rowan was rambling now he knew. Everything he wanted to say to her was running through his mind like a freight train so much so he struggled to express it. The words were jumbled in his mind as if they were a bowl of alphabet soup in a blender. He just needed her to know how he felt. 

“I- I just, I thought about you going to prom with Chaol or some other guy all damn day and I hated it. Gods, I couldn’t figure out why I hated it so much, it just it- it felt so wrong. Fireheart, I want you to be with me. Gods, I think I’m so desperately in love with you I’m going to combust or something.” Rowan was getting flustered now, he knew his face was burning and he was sweating, maybe from the humidity or maybe from the sheer weight of what he was confessing to his best friend.  “Rowan,” Aelin started once again, her face contorted in pure shock. 

“I know you might not feel the same Aelin, I knew I came here risking that, and if you don’t feel the same-”

“Rowan!” Aelin said with more force, bringing her hands to cup his face. “Listen to me,” she pleaded. 

Rowan stopped trying to fight her and looked at her. He felt as though his stomach might fall out. His nerves were so intense as he stared into Aelin’s golden-ringed eyes. 

“You’re just so fucking stupid,” Aelin breathed. 

Rowan’s brow furrowed, he certainly hadn’t expected her to say that. “Wha-” he began. 

He couldn’t even finish his thought before Aelin’s lips descended upon his own. She cradled his face in her hands as her soft lips moved against his in a slow rhythm. Rowan’s brain stalled and struggled to catch up with what the hell was happening. 

He just knew this felt right, this felt so gods-damn right. 

His hands were loosely wrapped around her wrists and they traveled lightly over her arms and moved to rest on her back and pull her into him. 

Her body molded against his own. It felt like the final bit of a 50,000 piece puzzle had finally fallen into place after years of pouring over it. Rowan kissed Aelin back with just as much fever, desperate to keep her lips on his own. He brushed his tongue along the seam of her lips and she pulled back. 

They both stood there, gulping down air as they stared at each other trying to navigate this unimaginable revelation. 

“You’re- you’re not going to prom with Chaol, right?” Rowan finally managed to ask. 

“No,” Aelin breathed. “I’ll go with you, I’ll always go with you.” 

Their lips met once again.

~~~

day one down. stay tuned and have a wonderful day, xoxo

[justmypartner]

Still Breathing: Chapter 6

Summary: AU | When a case goes sideways, Hailey wakes up in the hospital with a revelation that leaves her evaluating her life. While she recovers at Med, she meets Jay, an aloof, yet intriguing patient that catches her by surprise. The two get to know one another as they take on the task of rediscovering what it’s like to truly live, and eventually learn their lives intersect in more ways than one.

Writer’s Note: Hi!! Oh man am I excited about this chapter. It’s sweet and flirty, but also pretty angsty, so you’re welcome and I’m sorry? I’ve hit a good spot with writing this story, so I will probably be posting more often. I still can’t promise weekly updates, but I will do my best. Thank you so much for the kind words on this story. It truly means a lot. I hope you enjoy! 

Read on AO3 or below

“Hailey?”

“Hello?”

It wasn’t until a coffee cup was being raised in front of her face that she pulled out of her absent stare. 

“Sorry,” she shook her head, blinking her eyes back into focus. “Thank you,” she said, forcing a smile as she reached out to grab the cup.

Everything had been a blur since that last dance with Jay the night before. When the song ended and she finally worked up the nerve to pull away from him, she desperately tried to swallow down her emotions with the rest of the bottle of wine. Not long after, when she couldn’t get her mind to shut off, she told him she was beat and asked him to drive her home. 

She then spent the rest of the night stuck in that moment in his arms, debating whether or not she was falling in love with him, or the moment. Then, every time she closed her eyes she saw his beautiful emerald eyes and his infectious smile and she knew the question was rhetorical.

She woke the next morning with a text from him asking to meet at what had become their coffee shop. She had the weekend off. She knew he knew that, so she had no real excuse to blow him off. So, she compartmentalized everything that happened the night before and agreed to meet him there.

“You okay? You seem off this morning,” he posited, taking a sip as he eyed her from the opposite end of the table.

There he was reading her like a book, the way only he seemed to be able to do.

“Yeah, no matter how much red wine I have, I always feel it the next morning,” she lied, taking a large swig of her coffee as he nodded, eyeing her carefully as she did so. 

“Sorry,” he offered, the slight pout on his face expressing his empathy.

“Thanks,” she replied quietly.

“So, I actually asked you to meet me because I wanted to run something by you.” 

“Okay…” she said, a resistance in her voice.

“How would you feel about sneaking into a college party with me tonight?”

“Why on Earth would we do that?” she breathed out a laugh with the question.

“I’ve never been. It’s on my list.”

“You’ve never been to a college party before?”

“Nope. I enlisted right out of high school, then my active duty filled the education requirement for the academy. Never even stepped foot on a college campus until I was a cop and needed to for a case,” he said with a shrug.

“You’re not missing much. I only went to maybe one party in my undergrad years, wasn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”

“Yeah well, my brother spent all of his college years partying. Figured I ought to see what the hype was all about. I was waiting for fall to come around so I could blend in with of all the incoming students, but I only want to go if you agree to come with me.” 

“Fine, but only because it’s on your list… You’re going to have to do something about this look though,” she said, waving a hand in front of her as she gestured to his outfit.

“My look? What about you? You’re the one who dresses like a cop.”

She scoffed, taking one of the sugar packets on the table and flinging it in his direction. He flinched, a sneaky grin on his face as he laughed at his own joke.

“I can still wear my hat, right?” he asked once the laughter died down, a serious look overcoming his face.

“Yeah. I actually think I still have a U of C one you can borrow.”

“Cool.”

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a hat.”

“You don’t want to. The chemo has thinned my hair out so much. I just haven’t had the courage to shave it all off yet.”

A sad look overcame her face, and she quickly adjusted it when she noticed his eyes dart away timidly.

“Actually, I have been wondering since we met, are you a brunette or a red head?” she questioned, trying to divert the mood.

“Oh, that’s a surprise.”

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head at his now intentional pattern of aloofness. 

“One day, I’m going to be the one to surprise you.”

He gave her a disbelieving nod as he brought his cup to his mouth, concealing the smile she knew was breaking out across his lips.

— — — — 

Later that evening when she had just finished clasping the back of her last earring, there was a knock at the door. She made her way downstairs, hurrying to answer it. 

Jay stood on her doorstep in a maroon button up, dark jeans, and his usual ball cap. In the time she’d known him, it was always t-shirts and henleys, so to see him more dressed up had her heart racing in an entirely new way. 

As distracted as she was by his appearance, it didn’t stop her from noticing the way his eyes trailed up and down her body. She wore black jeans, black leather boots, and a silky blue tank that cut a little low. It certainly wasn’t her typical attire, but she knew it was basic enough of a look to blend in with every other college girl at whatever party they wound up at.

“Wow,” he breathed out, his mouth falling slightly agape as he seemed to force his eyes to train on hers. 

“Wow yourself,” she told him, stepping aside so that he could come in. 

Once the door was closed, they stood before one another in her foyer, both still silently gawking at one another for a minute longer.

“So, what do you think? Do I look like I should be at a college party?” he asked after clearing his throat, holding his arms out as he sought her approval. 

She pursed her lips to the side as she eyed him up and down, taking a little more time to do so since he had granted her his permission. 

“I don’t know I feel like it just needs-“

Her eyes fell to the top of his shirt where the top button was secured. She stepped forward, her hands moving to unbutton it and expose a little more of his chest. Her breath became shallow with the proximity. She pulled the collar out a little more once the button was popped. Doing so exposed a gold chain she’d never noticed before, one with a small medallion attached that rested in the contour of his chest. She noticed the way his jaw tightened as her fingers brushed his skin when she picked it up to inspect it further. She rubbed a thumb over it in her hand, an inquisitive look on her face as she did so.

“Do you always wear this? I’ve never noticed it before.” 

“It’s my brother’s. He gave it to me a few weeks ago. It’s St. Luke, the patron saint of doctors and surgeons. My mom gave it to him when he first told her he wanted to be a doctor. He thinks it’ll somehow help me, I’m not so convinced, but it reminds me of her so I wear it,” he explained, only his mouth moving as she still inspected the small medallion in her hand. She smiled, releasing it as she took a step back, folding her arms over her chest. 

“You know, the more I learn about your brother, the more I think I might like him more than you,” she told him smugly.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he spat, squinting his eyes at her jokingly.

“Are you ready to go?” 

“Yeah, let me go get your hat.”

She momentarily disappeared upstairs, pulling the hat from her closet before descending the stairs once more.

“Here,” she told him. He grabbed it, holding it in his hand as he peered over at her with a look of patience. 

“Right, um let me get my things and we can head out,” she said, turning around to grant him the moment he was silently asking for. When she came back, his hat was swapped out and he wore a shy look on his face.

“Thanks,” he told her, and she knew it wasn’t just gratitude for the hat.

— — — —

Even a block down the street from the house they could hear the music and voices of a hundred or so college kids. It was enough to send shudders down Hailey’s spine, a reminder of why her first college party was also her last. 

“You sure you wanna do this? Can’t we just go get plastered at a bar and call it a night,” she offered, looking up at him in the dim light of the street. 

The look he sent her was one of both amusement and certainty, and she knew his decision on the night’s plans was unwavering. 

“Fine, but you’re my designated driver. The only way I’m getting through this is with booze running through my veins,” she sang.

“I didn’t plan on drinking anyway.”

The comment was enough to stop her in her tracks. She sent him a look, silently questioning the statement as a smirk grew on his face. 

“I mean I’m going to have a beer or something, but I’m not supposed to get hammered or anything. I’ve already got enough chemicals in my body trying to kill me.”

She nodded, and they continued their slow pace towards the house. Another reminder of what seemed like many lately that he was living on numbered days. She just wasn’t sure what that number was. Her face fell, and she focused her attention on each step she was taking, trying to pull herself out of the instant sullen mood she’d fallen into.

“Alcoholic,” he mumbled under his breath, causing her to kick at him playfully with the tease. It was just what she needed to smile again, but not quite enough to keep that reminder from plaguing her thoughts.

Once inside, they were met with the overwhelming smell of beer, musk, and weed. 

“How many of these kids do you think are underage?” he whisper yelled into her ear as they brushed through the crowd blocking the entrance. 

“All of them,” she returned, shaking her head at the thought of a time when she was one of the many carefree kids they were surrounded by. 

They found the drink table. Jay went for a can of cheap beer and Hailey poured herself a couple of shots of tequila. The smitten look and prideful smile he gave as he watched her down the first two were enough to make her do a third. It was going to be a long night with him looking the way he did, let alone with him looking at her like that. She knew she needed to be loosened up to get through it.

By her fourth shot she was in the middle of a crowd of people, her hips doing most of the work as she danced to whatever song was playing through the speakers. Jay opted out, claiming he was much more a slow dancer than a party dancer. 

She’d been alone for a while, a couple of young guys dancing alongside her before getting the cold shoulder and moving on. Even when the guys approached, it didn’t stop Jay’s eyes from keeping a determined stare. She pretended she didn’t notice, but he kept a watchful eye as she swayed to the rhythm of the absurdly loud music.

About an hour had passed. Hailey watched as Jay broke his stare, moving to play a few rounds of beer pong. She laughed when she watched him swap his beer for soda water when the other guys weren’t looking. Not that it mattered considering how good he was at the game. Hailey had kept her eye on him every so often as she danced with various groups of soured sorority girls. 

Eventually, the strands of hair by her face were stuck on with sweat, and she had lost sight of Jay for about 15 minutes. When she finally found him again, he was leaned against a wall, some young college girl standing only inches away from him, hung on his every word. 

She blamed it on the booze, but it sent a heat rising in her. She couldn’t blame the girl, he looked damn good, but she couldn’t help but envy how oblivious the girl was to what it meant to be close to him.  

She watched from the other side of the party, the low light seeming to only shine on the two of them in that large room of people. Her jaw was clenched and she thought about going over and pulling him away, being close to him in a way that had been stuck in her mind since the night before.  

She then watched as he said something that sent the girl running, and a smile came across her face. She made her way over to him, his eyes lighting up when he saw her. 

“You must really know how to sweet talk a girl,” she teased, practically having to scream over the noise. 

“You would know,” he said it in a way that caused her cheeks to become even warmer than they already were. 

“What’d you tell her?”

“She asked if I would go to her um… what’d she call it? Formal or something? She said it was some sorority thing. I told her I couldn’t because I have chemo that day. She thought I was kidding and then, well you saw the rest,” he chuckled, both of them looking over Hailey’s shoulder as the girl found some other guy to mingle with. 

“You look like you’ve had fun,” he told her, instinctively bringing a hand to brush the slightly damp waves out of her face. “Why don’t we go outside for some cool air?” he offered. She nodded, grabbing a bottle of water on her way out.

The backyard was unexpectedly empty. It was a charming little courtyard with a few tiki torches keeping it dimly lit, and a big porch swing hanging from the large tree in the corner. Hailey made her way over, plopping down on the swing less than gracefully as she opened the water, her weak attempt at sobering up a bit.

“What do you think of your first college party?” she asked him as she tried to settle herself onto the swing.

“Overrated,” he said simply.

“Told you,” she returned, swallowing down a large gulp of the water.

“I kinda like seeing you like this,” he told her, laughing at the way her short legs swung back and forth to move the swing. 

“I kinda like seeing you in general,” the words came out before she could fully process, and she squinted her eyes closed tightly, cringing at how forward her boozed up brain was making her.

He leaned against a tree across from her, crossing his arms as he snickered at her words. She laughed too, shaking her head as she took another pull from the water. He brought one of his hands up to readjust his hat as he watched her. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from him. The pop of his collar, the way his eyes were still so vibrant in the low light. He was a sight to be seen, but it seemed like every time she looked at him like that lately, it only reminded her just how short her time with him could be. 

Maybe it was the alcohol coursing through her veins, or maybe it was that thing that the shooting awoke in her, but she felt like she needed to tell him how she felt. No matter how much time they had left. Then her brain dwelled on that. Time. What did his prognosis look like? She’d never asked him. Never had the courage to ask him. But in that moment? Hammered Hailey was just about ready to ask, do, and say anything.  

“How much time do we have left?” she broke after a few moments of being lost in her jumbled, tequila ridden thoughts. 

“If you’re ready we can go if you want. We don’t have to sta-“

“No. I mean how much time do we have left,” she repeated, her eyes glossing over in a way that made the sight before her look like the view through a rain coated window. 

His face was twisted in confusion, then it softened as he realized what she meant, and dropped immediately into a pain inducing look of sorrow. He walked over, grabbing the swing to stop it from moving before falling down next to her. He let out a sigh, bringing an arm to rest on the bench behind her back as she felt him looking over at her. She sniffled, fidgeting with the bottle in her hands before she brought her eyes to meet his. 

“Why now? Why wait until now to want to know that?” he asked, the words coming out benignly. 

“Because I want to tell you something, and if I’m going to tell you, I need to know first.” 

“If I tell you, will the answer change your mind about whatever it is?”

“Maybe,” he kept his eyes on her, somehow knowing she wasn’t being truthful, somehow pulling the truth out of her with one look. “No,” she looked down into her lap, took a breath, and reset their gaze. “I just need to know.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes moving to stare straight ahead as she kept hers on him. 

“I don’t know,” he shook his head, taking a beat before continuing. “If this chemo does what it’s supposed to do, if it shrinks the tumor enough, I have surgery, go a few more rounds of chemo, and I could be in the clear. If it doesn’t? Things only get worse, and… I don’t know exactly how long, but the doctors give me a 30% chance of 5 more years.”

Silence fell upon them. Her gaze pulled away from him. They both looked straight ahead, not even daring to look at one another as Hailey let the news simmer. There was a pain in the back of her throat as she tried to hold back the sadness that plagued her body. It was a heaviness that started in her chest, extended up into her head, and burned the back of her eyes with a pain she hadn’t experienced before. She pinched at her temples with one hand as she kept the tears from streaming down her face. The only sound that surrounded them was the loud bass and indistinct voices coming from inside the house.

“Change your mind?” he finally asked. She could tell he’d turned his head back to face her, but she couldn’t find it in her to look back. 

She shook her head, her stare still avoiding him as she closed her eyes. The tears that had built up spilled out and rolled down her cheeks. She groaned, those tears falling down hopelessly despite her best intentions. 

“Are you going to tell me?” he asked, his voice was hopeful and quiet, and it only broke her heart even more.

She shook her head again, sniffling as she wiped the tears away.

“It’s a surprise,” she eventually told him, her voice raspy. She finally turned to face him, forcing a smile through her hurt as she jumped from the swing.

“Hailey-“ 

“I think I am ready to go home,” she told him, resting a hand on his knee briefly before making her way around the house and out to the street, not even glancing back to see if he was following her.

The ride home was quiet. His eyes kept tied to the road, and hers roamed out the passenger window. The same magnetic like force that seemed to always pull them together was somehow pushing them away in that moment. She finished the rest of her water. It wasn’t enough to sober her up completely, but she wasn’t quite as foggy as she’d been back at the party. 

When he pulled up outside of her place, he told her a short and quiet goodnight as she hopped out. She returned his farewell, flashing him a fake smile as she closed the door and headed up towards her place. 

She walked up to her stoop, trying to focus on her steps to keep from stumbling over. She was still somewhat drunk, but she was also just overwhelmed by the emotions weighing her down. Her brain kept replaying what he said. A 30% chance of 5 more years with him, or an unknown chance of a lifetime. The idea of each scared her for different reasons, but there was only one that seemed impossible to accept.

There was the sound of a door shutting behind her, and she spun around. Her face fell into a frown as she saw him jogging towards her. He got dizzy just from standing, the last thing he needed to be doing was running after her.

“Jay, woah,” she called out, reaching her arms out towards him when he was close enough to touch. 

“I’m okay, I’m okay,” he assured through winded breaths. 

“Did you forget something or-“

“Look, I don’t know what you were going to tell me earlier, but I have something I need to tell you,” he interrupted, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to restabilize his breath. 

She looked up at him, a blend of confusion and expectation on her face. His head was tilted toward the ground, and she could just make out his eyes from underneath the brim of his hat. They were glossed over and they avoided hers as he seemed to prepare whatever it was he had to say. 

“I don’t know how much time I have left. That’s my truth, and it’s scary and frustrating, and probably a little unfair, but every time I think about it, all I can think about is how I want to spend every minute of whatever it is with you. It sounds crazy because we haven’t even known each other that long, but… there’s something here. It’s something I’ve known for a few weeks now, but if I’m being honest it’s something I knew somewhere in my mind from the moment I stepped on that damn elevator,” he said it with a sense of urgency and passion that broke her heart in an entirely new way that night. 

That pain of holding back her tears returned as the words cut straight to her heart. Then he reached out and wrapped his hand around her forearm, allowing it to slowly slide down until it was grasping her hand in his. She shuddered at the touch. At the electricity that seemed to jolt through her body with his fingers against her skin. There was a reluctant and almost fearful look on his face as he did so, and she just squeezed his hand back, allowing him to know it was okay. He then grabbed their joined hands with his other, stepping forward as he brought them to rest on his chest.

“Hailey, I need to tell you this, and I hope it doesn’t scare you off I just...” he cut himself off, his eyes falling to the ground once more. He inhaled sharply, bringing his eyes back up to hers and peering into them with the same desperation and fire she carried in hers.

His mouth parted and the words left his mouth as if time had slowed down. It was one sentence, six simple words, but she could have sworn the world stopped spinning when he said them. 

“I’m falling in love with you.”

[blu-joons]

DATING GOT7 HEADCANON A⇴Z ⇴ Mark Tuan

A ⇴ AFFECTION

Mark is incredibly shy with his affection, he loves to wrap his arms around you or offer you a kiss, but he’ll always do it with a red glow to his cheeks. You can always tell when he’s getting coy as you’ll hear his giggle in your ear.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING

It takes him a long time to build up the confidence to really talk to someone, and you were no different. You were the first to say hello on your third time of meeting at the studio, Mark was so relieved that you’d made his job easier. It surprised him more than anything how comfortable he quickly felt talking to you, trying to know as much about you as possible.

C ⇴ CONFESSION

An impulse came over him one night as the two of you met up for drinks, he wasn’t sure what suddenly prompted him to tell you how he felt, but if he didn’t follow the impulse, he never knew when he’d find the confidence to tell you again. It definitely took you by surprise, completely out of the blue, but you were more than pleased to hear how he felt. As his cheeks blushed at the end of his speech, you happily let him know how you felt too.

D ⇴ DATES

He works hard on making every date night special for you both, he’ll often greet you at your door with flowers or something to eat. He loves to do something active, he’s not one for sitting around in a fancy restaurant and talking. Your dates usually consist of something sporty, ice skating, rollerblading, anything that Mark can show off to you doing is a good thing with him. You can’t lie, you love seeing how athletic and sporty he is, even if he’s not super competitive, he’ll hate when he loses to you at anything.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE

There had been a couple of dates in school whilst he was in America, but since he came to Korea, he’d never been phased about dating, and instead wanted to focus on his career. He knew he was starting to reach an age where he had to think about the future, and that was something he really started to consider whilst with you. He had goals in his life that he wanted to achieve, he’d achieved a lot with his music, but also, he wanted to be married within the decade. He’d never focussed on anything but his career, but when he met you, he really began to consider a little more about his long-term future too.

F ⇴ FIGHTING

His temper definitely isn’t what it once was, but that still doesn’t stop the two of you squabbling from time to time. He’s become a lot more sensitive and understanding in recent years, and that definitely shows with you. He hates arguing with you, especially when he’s supposed to be the one that loves and supports you. If the two of you argue, he’ll usually take himself away from the situation to calm himself down, and then when he feels relaxed again, he’ll come back and talk things through with you, and quickly forget about the argument.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY

You knew how close he was to his family, but they quickly took a liking to you despite that. Seeing that Mark had someone with him whilst he was thousands of miles away was a huge comfort for them, each time he arranged to head home they pleaded with him to take you too so that they could get to know you better.

H ⇴ HOME

He was quite keen on moving you into his place quickly, he enjoyed the company of having someone around too, even if the two of you were sat in silence. Milo also bonded with you as well, seeing the two of you curled up on the sofa when he’d come home late at night was his favourite sight, one that he knew he wanted to be able to see forever.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”

Mark was the first to say, ‘I love you,’ at the end of one of your dates. You were convinced you’d be able to beat him on the air hockey table, but when you didn’t, and started to whine, he was quick to try and make you smile. Like his confession, it was a bit of an impulse, but he knew how he felt, even if he wanted to admit it in a more romantic setting.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY

There are definitely times where Mark can get jealous, he’s very protective of you and your relationship. It’s usually when someone around you gets loud and he begins to feel pushed aside, he has a lot of pride, and if someone is capturing your attention more than he does he’ll definitely feel sensitive about it. If Mark gets jealous, he’ll get quiet, which you’ll quickly catch onto. You’re very quick to reassure him and shut out whoever else is around you so that you can go back to focussing on Mark instead.

K ⇴ KIDS

He was very open about wanting children in the future, with his three nieces already, he was keen on adding to the family. Mark wanted to do things the traditional way, once he was married, then he’d consider a family. His family loved to tease him about when he’d start settling down with you, as they could see how happy you both were, but also, he knew they were desperate to have more grandchildren running around the house.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER

Mark’s laugh was one of your favourite things about him from the moment that you met; it was the sweetest sound that always brought a smile to your face. At times he was quite quiet, so his laughter was reassuring to you to know that he was alright. He found himself laughing a lot more when he was around you, he loved to tease you and tickle you, which also brought plenty of laughter out of you. You could hear his laughter often, especially when he was playing games with Joey which would always make your heart very happy.

M ⇴ MISSING

He’d had no choice for many years but to get used to being away from his family but being away from you made him feel sixteen again. He really struggled being away from you, he hated the lonely feeling of not having someone constantly around to laugh and joke with. It was hard on him, he’d try and call his family often, but also make time for you too, he never wanted to upset anyone when he was on tour. You’d send him Milo updates as often as you could to try and make sure he was happy, but he’d only smile properly when he came back from tour and went back to lazing around the apartment with the two of you.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES

Neither of you ever really settled on a nickname for each other, you tended to just speak whatever came to mind. Both of you had tendencies to use, ‘love’ more than anything else which others loved to tease you about.

O ⇴ OBSESSION

He was obsessed with your smile, he loved being able to physically see that he was making you happy, especially when he’d be able to hear you laughing away too.

P ⇴ PDA

PDA wasn’t something Mark was huge on, he’d often hold your hand or keep a hand against your waist in public, but that was usually about it. He loved to care for you though, he’d often offer you a sip of his drink or a bit of his meal, and he’d always try and make sure he was opening doors for you and keeping you safe.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS

The question Mark often asks is to see if you and Milo are alright. He often feels like he burdens you by caring for Milo, even though you always remind you love to look after him, but if anything ever is wrong, he’ll be straight home in a heartbeat.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS

Whenever he’s streaming or playing a game, he’ll write down all the comments he sees written about you. Once his stream ends, he’ll sit down with you and let you know all the things that the fans said about you. Not only does it make you feel more comfortable around the fans, but it also makes him feel a lot happier that the fans are so accepting of you both.

S ⇴ SEX

It very much depends on the mood who takes control of these moments, Mark loves to assert his dominance sometimes, but other times he’ll be more than happy to sit back and let you do the work. Regardless of who’s in charge, sex will always be a very affectionate affair. You both like to take your time, and make sure nothing gets rushed, which often leaves the two of you with blushed cheeks by the end.

T ⇴ TEXTS

He’ll text you often throughout the day, so it feels like you’re there with him. He likes his own mind sometimes, but he doesn’t necessarily like enjoying that alone, so if he can receive a text from you whilst he’s lost in his head, it’ll always make him feel better.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE

Not many people truly appreciated how amazing his personality was because he was so quiet, but no one valued it more than you did. You made him feel special every time he was with you, because best of all, you understood him.

V ⇴ VACATION

Since he began dating you, he loved to try and use his holiday time for you both, but you had other ideas. Whilst he was talking to you about a trip to China, you were busy organising a trip back to LA for you both. Not only did it mean the world to his family, but also him, knowing you were willing to make such a huge effort for him.

W ⇴ WHINING

The only time you’d ever hear him moan was when he was playing games, if he ever lost, you definitely knew about it, even from the other side of the apartment.

X ⇴ XXXXX

Kisses are definitely frequent from Mark, whenever the two of you are laid together, he’ll love to kiss you, whether it be the top of your head, the back of your hand, or against your cheek. You can always feel his smile whenever he kisses you, whenever his eyes meet yours, he’ll always end up with a horrendous blush which you’ll definitely tease him for. He’ll never stop kissing you though, he’ll just hide his face whilst he does.

Y ⇴ YOU

You were his rock, no one was there for him like you were.

Z ⇴ ZZZ

It was a battle most nights for Mark’s attention against Milo, you’d often roll over to feel Milo’s paw resting up against you. When you’d wake up the following morning and complain to Mark that Milo stole you, all he’d ever do was laugh.

---

Masterlist

[angrylizardjacket]

fit by my side {Machine Gun Kelly}

@bitchylittleredhead said: Okay I hear your MGK x pastel!reader and I raise you MGK x Mother Nature!reader. Hella plants, strong love for animals, heckin soft, v kind, mom friend, sunshine child. (I just really really love soft paired with him, it’s so damn cute) also I love you I hope you are well 🧡 

Also This Concept

A/N: 3177 words. Gender Neutral Reader (they/them) ! im worried kells is OOC. also there’s no smut but it does get M rated, but there’s no genitals specified. gets quite sappy at times. also @url-under-construction i hope u like it and i hope its good.

----

When you meet Colson, he’s famous, but he’s not, you know, famous famous. You meet on the set of The Dirt; he’s one of the stars, you’re a production assistant and stand-in when they need it, and you don’t think for a second that he’ll even remember your name when this is all over. 

But he does; in rehearsals, you’re the one reading the lines for the characters they haven’t cast yet, and the first time the four main cast members see you, in your floaty, floral top, and your gentle aura, and then to hear you say, with absolute sincerity, ‘your mom’s a cunt’, it has them bursting out laughing. You smile, sweet and kind, and you step gently through the blocking that has the character you’re currently standing in for, stabbing Tommy - Colson - with a pen. 

Maybe the juxtaposition of you taking part in this whole production is what intrigues him.

When filming starts, you’re still around, and something about seeing you, amid this performance of debauchery, and yet you’re still sincere and gentle, your choice of attire making you stick out like a sore thumb amid the leather and grime. At first, he tries to play it off, that you look somewhat out of place and it’s eye-catching, but you bring the cast food and water and whatever they need, you go on coffee runs, and take a genuine interest in each of them, and by the time he realises that his mood lifts every time he walks on set and sees you there, he knows he can’t play it off as you catching his eye for completely platonic reasons.

He asks you out the week after Casie leaves from visiting set, having seen you interact with her, entertain her while Colson was in hair, treating her with just as much kindness and respect as you did everyone else on the production. It convinces him that your intentions are true, and he knows that he can’t finish this production without shooting his shot.

By the time the wrap party comes around, you’re calling him your boyfriend, at first tentative, looking to him for confirmation, but then you see the way he beams at how the words sound when you say them, and you grow more confident each time you say it.

It’s met with... confusion.

Really? 

It seems no-one saw that coming - if anyone, I would have expected Douglas - you hear, and frown. 

“What does that mean?” You ask; a frown is rare to see on your face, but you’re wearing it anyhow, and the woman your speaking to splutters her way around a sentence as she’s trying to backpeddle.

“I just- I mean, well, Kells - Colson - he’s so... Doulgas just seems more... refined? Not that Colson not, you know- you’re just -”

“I’m just what?” You ask, not accusing, more curious than anything else, and the woman’s voice dies in her throat as she looks you over; pale blue jeans and a pastel, patterned button-down that would have looked right at home in the eighties. 

“I’m just concerned for you,” she eventually says, laying her hand on yours like she’s trying to do you a favour, “Colson’s intense, I’m just worried you’ll get hurt.” You see what she’s trying to say, but her tone is so painfully condescending. 

“I’m an adult,” you tell her, tone understanding but firm, “and I appreciate your concern, but I promise I can take care of myself.”

The moment you can get out of the conversation, you find Colson, talking animatedly to one of the makeup artists, and you slot yourself into the space by his side. Automatically, without even stopping the conversation, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you close, and you gratefully take the moment to press your face against him, wrapping your arms around him without saying a word. It’s both strangely intimate and familiar, his thumb rubbing small circles against your side.

As he stops talking, there’s a lull, and you don’t have to look up to know the makeup artist is giving you both a strange look.

“Ignore me,” your voice is muffled against him, using one hand as if to waive off any last bits of hesitation. 

“They’re fine,” Colson assured, tapping you on the hip. He’s still oozing casual confidence

You’ve been together for almost half of filming, which isn’t exactly a short amount of time, but usually you try and keep things professional on set, so it’s nice to be able to be close to him in public. 

The rest of the cast know, of course, you’ve been out with them on several occasions, and they all have come to adore you just as much as you adore them. Something about hearing Daniel drunkenly assure you that if Colson ever hurts you, that there’d be a line of people ready to slap some sense into him. You try to brush him off, endeared by his drunken affection, but he turns suddenly to the rest of the cast.

“Hey, hey, hey - who’d throw down for Y/N?” He asks; without hesitation, Douglas, Iwan, and Colson raise their hands, eyes wide and alert, as if the offer needed to be acted upon immediately. The show of support has your heart swelling in your chest.

You find yourself fitting into his life back in LA easily; while beginning work as an assistant on a Netflix original series, you call into his house in the Hollywood Hills, delighted to be privy to demos and snippets from his next album. 

And you meet his friends, shake their hands and smile and chatter with them. They’re not sure what to make of you at first, no-one really is when you present yourself in conjunction with Colson, but soon they start to see what he sees in you. It’s endearingly genuine and thoughtful and honest and enthusiastic and -

“They’re like sunshine,” it’s Rook’s Instagram live, almost six months into your relationship with Colson, that really cements it to the public. Rook is smoking in Colson’s living room in the middle of the afternoon between recording sessions, and someone asked what your deal was. 

“I’m so sick of - and I know Kells is, and Y/N too, not that they’d ever say anything. ‘ve never heard them say a bad word ‘bout anyone, you know,” Rook hits the blunt again, his face scrunching up, “but everyone ‘round here’s so fuckin’ sick of people talkin’ shit ‘bout ‘em. For real, Y/N is sunshine, nicer than all of you motherfuckers put together,” and he laughs, but it’s clear he isn’t entirely joking, “- you know what?” He asked, eyes lighting up and standing abruptly, grabbing the phone.

“Baze, man, you seen Y/N?” He calls, and Baze responds from somewhere off-camera that you’re outside. The comments are going off, but he pays them no mind, heading out to the backyard, only to see you by the back fence, peering over into the trees, on your tip toes, one hand straining over the fence, in shorts and a singlet in sunshine yellow.

Rook calls your name.

You shush him loudly, and then, without looking at him, slowly wave him over.

As he approaches, he can hear the telltale sound of a bird chirping, and as soon as he gets close, he hears you whisper -

“I think they’re bluebirds,” you murmur, and finally look back at him, lowering yourself, surprised to see his phone held aloft. He tells you he’s live streaming, you wave awkwardly, which is when he sees the slice of banana you’re holding, “I’m not sure what they eat; do bluebirds eat banana?” You ask, a little helpless, looking at Rook, and then to his phone. 

After a moment, you step aside, and gesture for Rook to take a look over the fence, and sure enough there’s a nest with a single, rather sad looking bluebird with it’s wing bent at a strange angle, calling out pathetically, obscuring a few eggs, just out of arm’s reach. While he’s looking over the fence, also trying to reach them, and also trying to get the phone close enough to see if anyone watching the livestream could identify the bird or offer any suggestion, he hears your footsteps retreating.

“Stay there, I’m going to get Kells,” you call out to him, voice bright, “he’s got long arms!” And Rook bursts out laughing; you weren’t wrong. 

While waiting, he sits against the fence and answers a few more questions, until he looks up and sees you, expression concerned, and Colson uncharacteristically fond as he lets you lead him by the hand.

You show him the nest and ask for him to get it, worried the bird was hurt, and he obligingly reaches over the back fence to gently collect the bird nest, trying his best not to jostle the bird. The bird’s wing appeared to be broken, and Rook ends the live when you mention that you’re going to take the bird to the vet.

Already, the fandom is exploding from what had transpired. 

People are making suggestions as to what the birds should be named, people are claiming your caring and sweet personality is completely fake, people in the live managed to screenshot Colson’s expression as you’d lead him to the birds, how smitten he was with his hand in yours, and have started posting ‘get u a man who looks at u like kells looks at y/n’ all over twitter and tumblr.

“Bird update!” Several hours later, Colson posts a series of videos to his instagram story, “for those of y’all who don’t know, Y/N found a bird with a broken wing in a tree out the back of my place, we rescued it and it’s eggs, and took it to the vet,” and with that he flips the camera around, from a close up on his face, to show a large, cardboard box in the corner of the room. 

Peep Davidson was written in large, black letters on the side of the box.

The rest of the videos are outlining what the vet had told you all, and that the bird should only take about seven days to heal before you could put them all back into the wilderness. 

At that, he pauses.

“You worried about putting the birds back when you saw that cat the other day?” And he angles the camera to reveal you, laying with your head in his lap.

“The orange one?” You ask, voice heavy, as if he’d disturbed you when you’d been right about to fall asleep. You yawn, and he confirms, you give a little, lazy shrug and smile, “not sure where that cat is.”

“Fuckin’ hell, babe,” Colson laughs, “you gotta stop finding random animals in my backyard.”

“They find me,” you counter, and shift so you can press your face against his belly, humming contentedly as his free hand begins stroking your back. 

“Snow White-Cinderella-Pied Piper motherfucker,” how that is somehow the softest, most gentle words to ever leave his lips, is utterly baffling, but there’s so much love and adoration but you turn enough for the camera to catch your delighted little smile, “you’re-” he starts, “who’s that dude from that, that My Hero shit we were watching the other night?”

“Koji Koda, you weeb,” you tease him fondly, knowing exactly who he’s referring to, and that’s where the video ends.

That’s the day it’s confirmed for the rest of the world. There’s countless paparazzi photos, and hints, and speculation, but this is the first time he’d called you anything but your name, and they’d all seen you snuggling up to him, your head in his lap.

This also is the day the trend begins on his Instagram story of a photo of you, usually in his backyard, with whatever animal had decided to befriend you that day.

My partner. My backyard. No fucking idea who’s animal that is.

And he still goes out and gets fucked up, and sometimes you’re there, and sometimes you’re not. When you’re out together, it still doesn’t quite make sense; he’s hard partying and over the top, and it seems like it wouldn’t be your scene at all.

But then there’s photos of Colson and a few of his friends standing on the edge of a roof, announcing that they’re Kings, and you’re by his side, smiling and waving at the person taking the photograph. He manages to get himself injured pulling a stunt at a friend’s house party, but you’re in the back of some influencer’s vlog, straddling his lap with tissues in your hand, him holding you secure as you clean up the scrape on his forehead; it’s kind of sickening how in love he looks, as he watches the way you concentrate. When you notice his expression, your own softens, and you lean in to give him a kiss. 

And so you start to make sense, but people still ask why.

So when asked, you tell people that you support each other, and challenge each other, and yeah, that’s absolutely why you’re together, but it’s not the whole reason as to why you make sense.

Because no-one sees the way you hook your finger into his belt loop at the back of his pants at the house party, and you press a kiss between his shoulder blades, and he knows exactly what that means. He’s quick to make some flimsy excuse to leave as you step into place by his side, which everyone he’s speaking to immediately sees through. You play at being flustered, tucking your embarrassed expression against him as he slings his arm around your shoulders, and calls an Uber.

The drive back to his place has you both on edge with anticipation, his hands all over you in the back of the car while you try to hold a civil conversation with the driver. It’s killing you not to give in, but you know it’s worth it. 

“You’re such an idiot!” You announced, grinning from ear to ear the moment you get into the house, before the door’s even closed, and he slams it shut to press you against it. Kissing him feels like a cathartic release, but after a moment you shove him back, loudly admonishing him for taking part of a stunt that got him hurt.

“You could have been seriously hurt!” You keep poking him in the chest to punctuate your words, and he steps back each time, expression alight, pupils blown wide. He keeps reaching out, as if to touch you, to snag your clothes, like it’s a game when you smack his hand back every time. 

“Got a gnarly cut though,” he pointed out, as his ass hits the kitchen island. His legs open, making space for you, and you step into it.

“Gnarly cut,” you murmur, tone surprisingly derisive, and you reach up to push his hair back from his forehead. His head tips back, leaning into your touch, the look on his face almost dreamy even as you’ve got a hand on his hips, pushing him back on the counter. 

Then you’re in his lap on the counter, hand fisted in his hair, lips on his neck, leaving bruises and bite marks. He’s trying to get you naked, efficient and desperate, but the moment he gets your shirt off, you push the fruit bowl behind him onto the floor, and push him back against the granite countertop. 

“You were worried about me,” he smirks up at you, admiring you with your hands planted either side of his head. 

“Because you don’t worry about your damn self!”

“Ooh, breaking out damn tonight? Must be serious,” he teased, deliberately riling you up; he loved this side of you just as much as the sweetness. Instead of responding, you reach up under his shirt and rake your nails harshly down his chest and stomach, delighting in the way he arched up at the sudden sensation, eyes falling closed. 

With one hand still flat against his belly, the other comes up to cup his jaw, gentle at first, before your fingers move to caress his throat, and you press yourself against him. 

“If you get yourself killed, I’ll kick your ass,” you whisper, lips inches from his as you press firmer against his throat. He grins, and sighs, the sound content and syrupy and so fucking into it, leaning up, to meet your lips with his, to feel the pressure on his neck just a little more.

And you bite, and you scratch, and you ride him on the kitchen island. The location is new, but the situation isn’t; once he’d discovered the righteous, sexual fury you’d been bottling up, he’d been more than happy to let you unleash it on him. Not to say that he didn’t give as good as he got; there’s been several times he’s had you swearing a blue streak, seeing stars, desperate and blissed out in equal measure.

But then there’s your dominant moments, the mean streak, and the teasing, the sting of your nails and your teeth and the way you push him around, into the mattress, against the wall without hesitation, and that he covets. No-one else is allowed to see you like that. To be tied up or blindfolded or or punished or pushed around, at your mercy, it’s as close to Heaven as he’s ever felt on Earth, because he knows without a shadow of a doubt that your heart is kind, that you’d never really hurt him in a way he wouldn’t like.

You make him feel safe.

And it’s not just the sex, you’re never dismissive of ideas or suggestions, seemingly always ready to help if he ever needs it, rather than judgmental. It makes him want to be there for you too. 

He wants to be better for you.

Which is kind of terrifying to consider.

“I love you,” he tells you in the shower, in the afterglow, soft, pausing where he had been washing your back where you couldn’t reach. It wasn’t the first time he’d said it, but he felt like he needed you to hear them.

“Love you too,” you say around a yawn, though the words are as genuine as they’d always been coming from you, and you lean back against him, leaning your head against his cheek in a moment of quiet intimacy. You try to kiss him like this, but turns your face directly into the shower, and end up spluttering and breaking the moment.

Colson chuckles softly, stepping back and pulling you with him, out of the stream of water and into his arms so he could kiss you properly. You’re still giggling as you’re wiping the water from your eyes, looking at him with fond adoration. When you settle your arms around him, you quiet down and bask in the moment, his forehead coming to rest against yours, warm and safe in his embrace, sensing that, in that moment, he felt the exact same way.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Season 2 Summary (Volume 2: Ch 2 - 5)

🍒 Warning: Detailed spoilers from S2 🍒

Along with the update on 3 June 2021, the CN server released a “Plot Review” which contains bullet-point summaries of S2 :>

Volume 1 Summary: here

Your company is suspected of distributing prohibited “Small Syringes”. While being questioned by reporters, Gavin handcuffs you, and you cooperate

“I’ll escort her myself.”

In the STF interrogation room, you don’t flinch despite repeated questioning, because you’re very clear about what you have to do. When Gavin comes to the interrogation room, he is very straightforward and asks what you wish to talk to him about

[Extra tidbit from Cheri] The person who interrogates MC at first is Tang Chao, whose Evol enables him to detect lies. Afterwards, he gets scolded by Gavin because he wasn’t supposed to be there LOL

It turns out that he already guessed that you were the one who lodged the report. This way, you could talk to Gavin in an absolutely safe location, and also lure the actual middleman involved in the distribution of the drugs

He never doubted your innocence

Gavin plans to use this opportunity to purge the STF of traitors. Through the surveillance cameras of STF, you watch as Gavin organises all sorts of work in a systematic manner. In his spare time, he pays close attention to you

After investigating them one by one, Gavin finally lock onto one particular STF agent

While an STF agent is sending you out, you feel that the situation is odd. Just as you formulate your conclusion, you hear Gavin’s urgent voice

“Get away from that person!”

Gavin fires a shot, and the bullet whizzes towards you

“That person is F-45!”

F-45, the traitor, has an ability to swap objects. He has a companion. Not only did he swap positions with his companion, but he also swapped positions with a STF badge. He has been lying low, waiting for an opportunity to take action. Now, he swaps positions with you, leaving you to die

At imminent peril, Gavin expedites his Evol to stop that bullet, then uses this chance to strike down F-45, who attempts a sneak attack. The identity of the other traitor is also confirmed - he’s a member bearing the serial number U-2. His ability is using sound to create explosions

U-2 uses his Evol to create a series of explosions. You and Gavin are left deep in the scene of the fire

Knowing full well that fire has a significant meaning to Gavin, you can’t help but feel very worried. But Gavin is far stronger than you think. Because of himself, and because of you, Gavin doesn’t retreat in the large fire, and finally subdues U-2, handcuffing him. Unexpectedly, U-2 uses his own body to create an even greater explosion!

You and Gavin eventually obtain a narrow victory, while the two traitors die in the sea of fire

From F-45′s final memories, you discover that they chose to serve an anti-Evol criminal organisation called Gray Rhino. It seems that there are more complexities and darkness hidden behind this incident

Gavin is sent to the hospital, and your company is formally cleared of all suspicion regarding the distribution of prohibited drugs. More importantly, you and Gavin have reunited again

In your heart, you're certain that even though the both of you are in different camps, you have mutual trust in each other, walking shoulder to shoulder on an even more rugged path, heading towards a future which won’t be destroyed

Your subordinate from Black Swan tells you that the STF has found the production factory for the “Small Syringes”. They seize the opportunity to shift ten boxes away in secret, and you tell them to analyse it as soon as possible

At the same time, you decide to produce a show related to Evol after a series of discussions in the community spring up after what happened with the company before. This way, more people can pay close attention to and ponder over Evol

Lucien accepts an interview on the show

Just as you recall how he had once said similar words, you sense that there’s something strange about a mother berating her son along the roadside. Under the mother’s continuous provocation, the boy’s Evol is stimulated and goes completely out of control. The gravity in the surroundings changes

You notice that this child was once given a dose of the “Small Syringes” by his mother

Being rolled into the area where gravity is in chaos, Lucien protects you with a white protective screen. With your assistance, Lucien replicates the boy’s gravity Evol, averting a disaster

Worried about this mother-son duo, you inquire about what will happen to them in the future. Lucien doesn’t give you a direct answer. Instead, he asks you a question - would you choose to pursue this matter or stay far away?

“In that case, continue searching. I look forward to your answer.”

You can see a glint of admiration in Lucien’s eyes

Afterwards, in order to make it easier for you to rest, he takes you to a desolate train station. Perhaps you didn’t realise it, but the two of you have already entered a strange space

The two of you board the train. While conversing with Lucien, you verify the importance of CORE, and also make clear that whether or not there is Evol, the world will continue to advance, and will continue to progress

You fall asleep on the train. When you wake up, what meets your vision is a wheat field with heavy snowfall

You once again hear the conversation you shared with Lucien when you were a child, but you hear an overlapping echo. Lucien explains that the dreamworld seems to be a suppressed memory

The two of you open a door. You see that the world is divided and upside down

Lucien says that this world hasn’t been divided, but “folded” - things that appeared to be going backwards are perhaps undergoing another form of advancement

In the dreamworld, the way you’ve pushed yourself over the years and the negative emotions surge forth. Fortunately, Lucien creates a tiny safety zone for you

“You can walk slowly. Knowing that you’re always walking is enough.”

Even though it’s a dreamworld, Lucien also tells you that the future you want will definitely exist

As Lucien leaves the dreamworld, he once again confirms the sense of misalignment that he had sensed

He vaguely senses that he has tossed aside a very long past, and decides to begin research on this world

At this moment, he notices an invitation card in his drawer

“You’ve worked hard.”

Away from the shoal, in the depths of a boundless ocean, Lucien continually sinks, gradually closing his eyes

You send a report containing the components of “Small Syringes” to Victor. However, he doesn’t check his e-mail as quickly as he usually does

While you’re feeling puzzled, you receive shocking news -

The CEO of LFG has met with a car accident

You immediately rush to his ward. Fortunately, he isn’t in a serious condition

For his safety, you arrange for a bodyguard to protect him in the hospital, but Victor flatly rejects this

“Since you’re this worried, stay behind personally.”

As such, you stay in the ward next door, keeping watch on Victor

In the ward, you hand over the results of your investigation to Victor. The analysis shows that there are extremely small traces of CORE in the “Small Syringes”. Gray Rhino, which allowed the drugs to be distributed, has always been against Evol. Perhaps they intend to use the drugs to harm people who wish to obtain Evol. You can’t help but wonder how that person with inky ash eyes is related to everything

Late at night, you spot Victor along the corridor as he observes the city lights. He tells you that he’s looking for someone. Meeting his meaningful gaze, you recall the promise you once made to “find the him from the past”. During this conversation, he also tells you that joining BS was meant for a greater benefit, and to see how far one can go with an Evol ability

You receive news that the driver who caused the accident has regained consciousness, and you plunge into his memories. You discover that because he became bankrupt after a lawsuit with LFG, he participated in the Hunter Game

While attempting to escape the game, he witnessed his camaraderies getting killed in the process. Just as you wonder if he attacked Victor because he had no other choice, a shadow slips into his ward, and he doesn’t have good intentions

You give Victor an urgent signal while attempting to flee

At this dangerous moment, you receive a message from the “past” -

“Why are you in a daze? Run!”

You take action, following Victor’s commands in your mind as you dodge

The person is stalled in the lift, and you fall into Victor’s arms. He pulls you to hide in a nearby room, and you manage to escape

When you had sent the warning earlier, Victor also received a message from the “past”, which enabled him find you

After Victor is discharged, the two of you conjecture that the Hunter Game could have been designed to target Evolvers. The reason why people were silenced after trying to escape could perhaps be due to the mastermind wanting to hide something

After you leave, Victor receives a corgi plush that you sent. He senses that when it comes to things related to you, he will inexplicably become a little more amiable

There are many problems to resolve, and all these conflicts point towards one source: the Black Swan CORE. He decides to personally take part in the Hunter Game as an individual participating in matched betting

On a certain day, the helicopter lands on the roof of LFG. Like always, Victor clarifies information pertaining to work with his employees

“The remaining approvals for today are to be left with Goldman for now. I’ll make time to have a look.”

At a certian location, a sniper rifle takes aim at him. In the next second, the trigger is pulled

You receive an invitation to the Hunter Game. At this moment, Kiro gives you a call to ask if you’ve seen anything strange. You mention the Hunter Game

Kiro’s voice turns disjointed. A man with inky ash eyes suddenly appears. Your mind grows hazy. Just before you completely lose consciousness, you see the symbol of a stone tablet, which has thistles and thorns on it

When you reawaken, you discover that you’ve been roped into the Hunter Game

You do your best to defeat a player who is attacking you. Unfortunately, you meet another person who is better skilled than you. Just as you’re suppressed and losing all hope, you hear a familiar voice. The person in front of you is Kiro

After dealing with the player, he pastes a microchip on the metal necklace you’re wearing. This way, your movements won’t be tracked. He also guides you to a hole of a tree which is concealed very well

In this insane game, you can finally rest for a while

“In this game, the only way to accumulate points is to attack others.”

You look at him, telling him resolutely that the two of you must leave this place safely

Just as you wonder how Kiro managed to enter the arena, the metal necklace gives out a reminder: it’s time for tools to be circulated

The two of you witness as a player is killed while fighting for tools. From this, you discover that players can temporarily strengthen their own Evol by injecting themselves with drugs provided by the game

Through an analysis, the two of you conjecture that the mastermind is also searching for CORE

At this moment, the game announces a mission - you have turned into the target of every single player

Fortunately, due to the tacit understanding you share with Kiro, your coordination enables the both of you to shake off numerous players. Afterwards, the two of you accidentally discover a strange building. Closely compacted infrared rays surround the building, which might result in gunfire. Withstanding the stress, Kiro opens his mini laptop and resolves the crisis before him

“This is the magic of a superhero!”

After saying this, he pulls you into a run towards the forest. The sudden explosions leave you two falling next to a precipice

Kiro grips your wrist tightly. Noticing that he’s straining himself, you think of asking him to let go. Seeming to see through your intentions, he tells you not to give up, and that he has already made arrangements

You choose to believe him

Just as what Kiro says, someone pulls the two of you up the cliff just before Kiro completely exhausts his energy

Kiro finds a way to remove the metal necklace. He looks at you with a gentle gaze, but you feel that something’s wrong-

“Now, have a good sleep. When you wake up, don’t mention this game to anyone. Then... forgive me.”

His Evol puts you into a deep sleep

He removes your silver necklace, puts it on his own neck, then leaves by himself

When you wake up, you find yourself in an underground passage. Just as you think of finding the exit as quickly as possible, you hear Shaw’s voice from the other side of the wall

You attempt to call out to him, but receive no response. Thinking it was just a misperception, you accelerate your footsteps, continuing to search for the exit

On the other side, Shaw has been trying to call you. Because your phone is turned off, and his phone is out of battery, he’s unable to contact you

[Extra tidbit from Cheri] He also attempts to charge his phone with his Evol but fails LOL

He pinches a photograph of a stone tablet. A symbol “8″ is engraved on the stone tablet which is surrounded by thistles and thorns

At this point, you, who were innocently roped into the Hunter Game, arrive at the exit and meet Shaw

“I didn’t expect you to be the one here.”

Shaw sits on the railway tracks as he looks at you, an icy smile on his lips

You pause where you are, testing the waters and asking him what he’s doing here

His tone brims with disdain and alienation. Even though you don't understand what he’s saying, you can sense a certain danger, and there seems to be a misunderstanding between the two of you

In the next moment, accompanied by the roar of a train’s whistle, the sound of thunder completely fills the horizon

Volume 3 (Ch 6 - 9): here

More S2 content: here

A detailed translation of Gavin’s part is available here!

[tilynation]

u dont have to post this ask cause i dont want antis using this to circle jerk but i cant seem to find any gay rumors of lily aside from rihanna in the lchat. the models thread dont even think she’s bi. can u post the links to her gay rumors if you have them? i recall some tily shippers saying she had rumors with freja and gemma?

Questions About Lily’s Sexuality

Thanks for the ask. I posted it because I’m not worried about antis. I’m confident in my research, we are just here to have fun, and we have a good community of people who want to talk all things gaylor. I have not encountered any antis directly on the blog or in my asks except for one fervent Kaylor fan who has been harmless. I like Kaylor by the way and think that both Kaylor and Tily could have happened. They don’t negate each other or interfere with each other if you believe a realistic Kaylor timeline. On to your questions about Lily . . . and an update at the end.

Lily is Bi / Some Form of Queer / Label Free

Let’s start with Lily’s interviews about Rihanna. They predate their hookup/fling/situation. Lily openly expressed her huge and lasting crush on Rihanna several times in print interviews. This alone proves some form of queer. We’ll go further, but this answers the question of whether she’s straight.

Lily also posted about her being fruity, liked posts that tagged her about being label free (and used a picture of her) and supported gay rights/marriage equality without ever calling herself an ally. She posted with rainbows and wearing rainbows more than usual in 2016/2017. She makes the V sign around her mouth or other p***y licking signs in photos often. It’s the most I’ve ever seen from anyone.

Lily / Rihanna

Check the Rihanna or Lihanna tag on the blog. I’ve posted about this a considerable amount beyond what’s on L Chat. They most likely had something. The infamous pic touching Rihanna in the club during Paris fashion week, the report of them making out at a party (from someone credible who posted under his real name), following Rihanna around for about 6 months across the country, etc.

Lily/Rihanna happened at the end of or after Cyprien, Lily’s boyfriend from 2013-2015. Cyprien does not “debunk” Tily (sorry to the few Taylor/Joe blogs I’ve seen say this). They don’t overlap at all and Lily was not seen with him after 2015. I’ll even give you a visit to his country in early 2016 with her friends but there’s literally nothing after that. Cyprien ending by early 2016 and Rihanna ending after Coachella/LA in Spring 2016 give us the lead up to Taylor/Lily during Taylor’s chaotic Spring/Summer of 2016 and then the Tily Autumn.

The New York Crew

Lily has been a part of a known group of NYC/European lesbian and bi women for the past several years. It’s mentioned on the L Chat and is well-documented on Instagram. I’ve posted about it a bit on the blog and have received submissions from anons who know this info too. I also know she’s in the group because I know someone who dated one of her friends in the group. When her friends wanted to see her during the Tily years, they had to go to London because she wasn’t in NYC anymore. (Part of the extensive proof that Lily moved to London when Taylor said she moved there with her London lover). My personal head canon is that Lily tried to find someone in the wealthy lesbian/bi women group, then tried it with Rihanna, tried it with Taylor (and tried to get Taylor to come out/commit a bit), then when that didn’t work out took the path of least resistance to a well off life by hooking up with a billionaire who she knew liked her.

Freja / Gemma / Models Thread

Lily’s rumors with out lesbian model Freja are from the L Chat. They hung out a lot outside of work for a few years before Cyprien.

I saw some early Tily fans mention Gemma but I haven’t found anything regarding her and Lily that would make me think they were more than friends but I haven’t looked at Lily much during the aughts. If I find something, I’ll post it, but Gemma is not important to Lily’s sexuality or relationships.

The Models thread on L Chat has their favorites and that’s fine. They didn’t keep up with Lily on that thread. Lily was posted about elsewhere on L Chat where the general consensus is bi. Funnily, the one time Lily got mentioned on the Models thread they thought she had something with Karlie based on this night :

Polo Club / Country Club St. Tropez

What Taylor and Lily had together was fun while it lasted and we can look back on it with fondness. It was a good two years, maybe a bit more. It’s most likely been over since 2019. Lily went off social media in January 2020, deleted the “AT” and ♥️ emoji from her birthday post for Taylor right before Miss Americana and The Man were released, and headed off to the modeling industry’s retirement life - the girlfriend and likely baby mama for a billionaire, a man about 6 times richer than Taylor. Lily was recently tagged by the social account for his polo club in St. Tropez (no photos of her) as presumably at one of the events a few weeks ago. Alshair was tagged also as were a bunch of rich dudes who won some polo cup. The photos of Alshair’s polo and country club on this account look exactly like the scene described in “Cowboy Like Me,” with Lily likely telling the rich people what they want to hear. It would be nice if she came back to the fashion world, even if not to model, but I don’t begrudge her the life she chose.

The ironic part of the Polo Club St. Tropez is Lily first went there on July 19, 2016. I posted about that date in my “Cruel Summer” post.

That was the first day of Leo’s gala and the yacht everyone was on was Alshair’s. That was presumably when Lily first met Alshair. There are videos of her riding horses at the Polo Club on 7/19, so either she mentioned it or Alshair knew she liked horses and set it up for her to ride there during the Leo’s gala trip. Fast forward 5 years - Tily is over and Lily is the likely girlfriend of the billionaire owner of the polo club.

“Breakable Heaven” indeed.

[jeonjeonggukenergy]

Anti-Hero

summary ~ in search of wine at a party that’s so not your scene, you run into jungkook, the weeb from your film class, and become determined to learn just how much he lives up to his big reputation.

pairing ~ jungkook x reader

genre ~ fluff, smut (coming in ch3!) - college!au

wordcount ~ 2.3k

warnings ~ pretty much n/a, mentions of drinking and light smut

a/n ~ v excited for these lil dorks! i thought about combining this with the upcoming chapter but it felt right on its own and i wanted to go ahead and post an update for yall haha. ch 3 will most definitely have some serious smut to look forward to 👀 thank yall for reading, i love and appreciate any form of support or feedback so so much, so feel free to msg me or send me an ask abt whatever you want! 🥰 hope u enjoy this chapter!!!

previous: chapter 1 ~ next: chapter 3 | chapter 4 (coming soon!)

~ read on ao3 ~

CHAPTER 2 ~ cowboy bebop & chill

You couldn't stop thinking about Jungkook. Every time you brought the enamel of your favorite mug to your lips, teeth knocking the rim as you exhaled to cool off your tea, it called back the click of his earrings in your mouth. Whenever you reached behind your ear to tuck away the hair you'd impulsively cropped to your chin this year, it hit the same spot you'd sucked into a bruise on his neck and you shivered. Even your slight headache thanks to the shitty vodka from the pregame reminded you of the wine you'd sought out from him in the first place and never fucking got to drink. 

You found yourself reading over your responses to each other's discussion posts from your film class, trying to find any more justification for this sudden crush than the drunken flirtation that mortified you as soon as you remembered it sober. He did seem to like your directness...but you could easily ascribe that to his similarly loosened-up state. Scanning through your reflections on The Shawshank Redemption and Casablanca, you painstakingly overanalyzed every smiley face and "I loved that part too!" Could he have been into you at all before this? Or had he just eyed you for another quick fuck at a party? Shit, what if he hated you for working him up and then leaving? If he wanted to, you knew he would have easily found someone else to finish the night with. But what if he still held it against you? The image of him bitterly turning aside to find another girl in the crowd, with your hickey still fresh on his jaw, turned your stomach more than you wanted to admit.

Shaking your head with a grounding exhale, you reminded yourself that whoever else he did or didn't hook up with was none of your business. Plus, he seemed like a genuinely nice guy and probably didn't hate you in the first place. Wow, the bar really was so fucking low. Maybe that was part of the reason you were never that bold with boys. Every classmate you'd fallen for so far at college had remained innocently unaware of your feelings, likely because you never worked up the courage to clearly express them. You hadn't even been trying this time, though—this semester had been so busy you'd barely had time for your friends, much less crushes. And now your one blowoff class had become your biggest distraction.

Jungkook, a communications & media major, couldn't afford to lose as much focus in this class as you. Normally near front-and-center, he sat all the way in the corner of the last row, wary of imaginary stares burning through the hopefully-opaque-enough curtain of his hair. Even the risk of zoning out staring at the back of your head stressed him out less than the thought of you doing the same to him.

You walked into class through the back right entrance today so you'd pass Jungkook in the front row, though you could have gone straight to your usual left-side seat from the main door. Knowing you'd never summon the courage to talk to him, you still couldn't help wanting to see his face. You didn't know just what you were looking for—some kind of confirmation or dismissal that would let you just move on with your dry-ass life—but any reason to catch a glimpse of Jungkook was a good one. Today, though, he sat far closer to the entrance than you'd expected, and his proximity stopped you in your tracks a few feet behind him. Eyes dragging down the sculpted form under his soft black sweatsuit, your stare traced the veins in his forearms to reach the hands in his lap. Catching a half-page cartoon ass in your view of the manga he gazed at intently, a snort-laugh escaped you, the sound setting him on high alert. He snapped the book shut, spinning around with eyes wide and still-long hair an understandable mess for a Monday.

"I'm so—"

"I'm so sorry!"

You both shoved out the words at the same time.

A pause swelled between you, eye contact maintained as your mouths fluttered open and shut like fish. Even awkward and off-guard like this, he was just so damn pretty. It felt unreasonable for him to seem as flustered around you as you were around him. Finally, you spoke again, solely to force the conversation forward and put you both out of your misery.

"W-what do you have to be sorry for? I'm the one who, like—ugh, I was drunk, I'm so sorry, I never would have been so, yknow, if I was sober, like that's not me I promise, I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or—"

"No-no-no-no-no!" Jungkook cut you off, dismissing your barely intelligible apology. Before you could cut him off in return and continue, he held up both hands between you, his eyebrows knit together in a pleading expression. "Are you kidding me? Seriously, I feel so bad, I was kind of drunk too, I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable! Please, you have nothing to worry about, it was, uh...I was...good...if...you were." He grew shyer as he continued, drifting off as a hand reached back to rub his neck. A light laugh. "You did make me have to keep my hair long for another few days, though. It's gotten so annoying to take care of, I was planning on cutting it right after the costume."

This admission perked up all your earlier curiosities about him, and a cautious smile spread over your face as Jungkook unconsciously reminded you that he was, in fact, a total dork, rather than the fuckboy you'd irrationally feared him to be.

"Wait, hold up," you snorted again. Gently. "You're telling me you grew out your hair for three, maybe four, months...for a Cowboy Bebop costume?"

"Hey, it was free and way less lame than a wig," he defended himself. Crossing his arms over his chest, he fidgeted uncomfortably, face blushing into a grin as you continued to giggle at him.

"You are such a fucking weeb," you accused lightheartedly.

Jungkook furrowed his brows back together, an anxious hand grazing the spot where you'd marked him again. "Well, you recognized my Spike costume, at least," he pouted. "You're not all innocent."

"I watched one episode with my friend, and it was dubbed," you downplayed. "Isn't watching dubs instead of subs a crime for real anime fans?"

"Actually," his eyes lit up at your rhetorical question. "The dub of Cowboy Bebop is excellent. It's pretty universally considered better than watching the OG with subs. You're right though, that is the general rule."

"Oh man, who knew." Looking down, grinning, you tried to hide how endeared you were by his earnestness. "Well, it was pretty cool, not gonna lie. I guess I kind of get the appeal."

"Would you want to start watching the rest sometime? That's one I just never get tired of," he blurted, then blushed, closing his mouth and working his lips between his teeth as his eyes stayed wide and on you. Jungkook's heart accelerated in his chest, a fist opening and closing at his hip as he tried to decide whether he regretted taking a chance on the question.

You instantly diverted all your mental energy from hoping he couldn't sense your attraction to massively overthinking your response. This was a "Netflix and chill" kind of invite, right? If he wanted you, of course you wanted him, but you had to be sure before you did something else stupid and risked having to find another discussion board buddy.

"Um...yeah, sure," you accepted. "I have to ask, though, do you mean, like...Cowboy Bebop and chill?" You raised an eyebrow, trying to look bolder than you felt. "Or...Cowboy Bebop and just...Cowboy Bebop?"

"I..." Mirroring your playful grin, Jungkook shrugged, not wanting to look like a fuckboy if he answered with the first option but also wondering—were you actually interested in watching this anime with him? The possibility puzzled him, the same way it confused you how he could go bold and then back to his shy weeb-ass self within seconds. You shrugged too, with an anxious exhale of a laugh.

"That was...weird to just say like that, sorry. We can just see where it goes, whatever you want," you backtracked, full of faux-nonchalance. The Google Calendar schedule on your phone suddenly became very interesting. "We could do another day if that works for you, but I'm free after this class once I write my discussion post—I don't have any other homework or meetings today for once."

He nodded quickly, eyebrows up. Swallowing, Jungkook saw the opportunity to show a little more initiative and seized it. "We could do that together even, 'cause we usually jump off each other anyway. So you can come over right after class if you want." He glanced up and to the left for a quick mental inventory. "Oh shit, wait, but I seriously need to clean my apartment first, can we do more like dinner time tonight? You can just come over for ramen or takeout if you want, or eat first or whatever."

"Yeah, that's fine!" you agreed warmly. "Ramen and homework, two birds with one scone. I should probably, like...get your number? So you can send me your address when you're ready or something?" You didn't want to sound too desperate, especially since you knew he was used to it, but you found yourself weirdly excited to experience something he so obviously loved. If you got dicked down too, even better, but you were definitely willing to wait on that part, especially now that this first sober conversation had restored your inhibitions. He had this slightly shy sweetness about him that just made you want to make him happy somehow. You wanted to see more of his cheesy little smile. You wanted to hear the bright laugh that occasionally rang out at the most inappropriate times, during Citizen Kane or attendance. You wanted to watch his light pink lips fall open in bliss as you kissed down his sensitive neck to the trim of his worn-in hoodie...

"Yeah sure, here." The quick touch of his hand over yours snapped you out of your thoughts as he took your phone, ready to type in his number, and—

"Wait, did you say 'two birds with one scone'? Not 'one stone'?"

You blushed furiously. Somehow him calling you out on your quirks embarrassed you more than the indecent daydream he'd interrupted. "Okay, so I saw this tweet a while back where they said 'feed two birds with one scone' to replace 'kill two birds with one stone,' I think it was just some vegan troll being all like 'don't talk about killing birds!' but it stuck with me because I just really fucking love scones."

"You...really fucking love scones?" he repeated in slight sarcasm, eyes down on your phone. You grew even shyer, but continued.

"Yeah, I bake a lot and they're my favorite thing to make. The flavor possibilities are endless and they last for days so I just keep them on hand for breakfast and snacks and to give out to friends. And they go with tea, which is my other favorite thing." Ooh, was he a tea person? Should you bring some tonight? Something earthy, to go with your ramen. Your go-to green sencha, or maybe chrysanthemum? Chamomile?

Jungkook held your phone back out in front of you, but waited silently for you to notice, enjoying the view of wheels turning in your head as you pondered tea pairings. This was the you he was used to, daydreaming in class and going on tangents as dorky as his in discussions. Even from a distance, he'd noticed you consistently gave off a vibe somewhere between absentminded professor and grandma, and this confirmation made you even cuter to him. But the hair still falling over his ears wouldn't let him forget his new physical proof of another side to you.

You finally collected your phone with a mumbly "Oh right, yeah, cool, thanks," that you prayed sounded more chill to him than it did to you.

"I just texted myself, so I have your number too now, and I'll just send you my address when I'm ready, and, uh...yeah!" he rambled a bit in response.

You nodded, confirming. "I'll see you tonight!"

"Yeah, see you tonight."

Jungkook watched you walk to your desk, silently admiring your ass and allowing himself only a moment to savor the memory of half of it filling his hand. A strange nervousness tingled through him. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about you all weekend either, and now he had a chance to get closer to you than ever before. He hoped, more than he could remember hoping for anything else, that this would go well, one way or another. He had no idea what you wanted with him, but you had him questioning everything he'd thought he wanted. Easing open his laptop, he pulled up your last discussion board response to him, signed off with a smiley face but backwards.

I like the way you think. (:

He turned his head to read it right-side-up, letting his face scrunch into a smile you wouldn't see.

Meanwhile, though the film thrilled you, you struggled to stay facing forward for the duration of class. You suspected the plot of Rear Window was simply unsettling you, but you swore you could feel Jungkook's eyes on your back. No, he was probably actually watching the movie as usual, or reading his manga if not. You were definitely just being paranoid. Definitely. Probably. Right?

next chapter 

[hit-me-with-a-ladle]

This is Ch.2 for my creepypasta story.

Now this is the second chapter to my story and its description can be found in my blog, i manly update on wattpad does i still will be putting these chapters on tumblr (not as frequently doe :/). so yeah have fun and hope u like it.

A sharp pain was the first thing felt by the girl the moment she woke up from her coma. Laying on a dirty, ruined couch, she put a hand on her head and softly groaned. At that moment she heard the light murmur of male-sounding voices near her and tensed up. She was confused and dazed. She didn't know where she was or why she was there. Not knowing what to say or do she just overheard their conversation, hoping they wouldn't notice she was awake.

" I-I don't know what the-they were thin-king, bringing a young h-human girl to be the next middle-m-man. A-a-are the elite becoming that desper-des-desperate?" One of the men said. He sounded considerably young, around eighteen years old. The boy appeared to have a stutter. His voice was also soft, almost sounding more like a whisper than anything else though still audible. ' What is he talking about?' The girl thought to herself, her train of thought was abruptly stopped by another voice speaking up.

"I don't think it's smart to doubt the elite's decision Toby, even so, she seems to hold some attributes required in a middleman." A monotone voice spoke. A soft "yeah" was soon hear from one of the men and it sounded forced. Then a bone-chilling chuckle came from the same monotone man. "What's so funny?" One of the men spat, their voice was deep and husky. "Well if you must know," The other man said sounding amused "It's kind of funny that out of all of us you should know just how capable she is." He rudely remarked snickering. The other man seemed to growl under his breath "Wasn't she the one that knocked you down and stabbed you in the leg?" The monotone man finally said in a provocative tone.

"Well, now you're just begging me to kick your ass." The irritated man spoke in anger and stood up but promptly cringed from the shooting pain from the injury to his leg and sat down. "I'd like to see you try," The monotone man replayed amused by his comrade's actions. The irritated man was about to say something when another voice spoke up, "Can you guys stop fighting already, I mean there's an unconscious girl in the living room that we have to prepare for her inevitable death." A boy said, he also sounded young similar to the first man, but this time his voice was much louder and sounded naval.

When overhearing what the boy said, she loudly gasped in shock without thinking, that seemed to catch the men's attention and they quickly went quiet. The atmosphere was so tense you could cut it with a knife. An awkward and unbearable silence fell upon everyone. But soon it was ended by the rattling of chairs getting put aside and the pattering of loud footsteps approaching the room she was in. Not knowing what to do, panic was the only thing she could feel at that moment. As she laid there, not moving a muscle the first that spoke was the man in a white mask.

"So now you choose to wake up? Took you long enough." He said to her annoyed, she looked at his masked face and then looked around the room. It seemed to be a log cabin by the walls being constructed from wood, and by the general look of it, it was pretty big. The couch she was on was in a rather rough shape, and right across from it was a scratched up wooden coffee table. Then she noticed one of the men resting on an armchair in a similar state as the couch she was on. He seemed to be looking right at her, though it was hard to tell from the blue mask that covered his face.

"Where am I? And who are you, people?" The girl spoke in a harsh tone trying to seem strong, though, in reality, she was terrified, and the men appeared to notice. "Aren't you a snarky one? But don't try to act tough or else." The man in the feminine mask said boredly. "Now, as for who we are, my name is Timothy Wright, but you will call me Masky." He hardly spoke while pointing to himself. The girl scanned him from head to toe and noticed that one of his legs was wrapped in a now blood-stained bandage. 'Did I hurt him that badly? Well serves him right.' She thought while glaring at him. "That guy over there," He continued and pointing to the tall man sitting on the armchair with his legs crossed, "Is Jack or as he's better known, Eyeless Jack." The man, named Jack nodded his head in her direction. "That shorty over there." This time he pointed to a short boy whit blond hear leaning on the door frame to the room, "Is Benjamin Lawman or Ben Drowned." Ben waved at her and smiled, but the smile was more creepy than anything else. "And lastly," Masky said while pointing to a boy with orange-tinted goggles " That's Tobias Erin Rogers or Ticci Toby." The boy then spoke up, "Ju-just call me T-toby."

"You're in your new home." He emphasised. "Here you will live till the day you die. Now, as for your purpose, you have been assigned the role of a middleman from now on." He said while looking at her dead in the eyes. "You're kidding, right? Is this some sick joke? A middleman? What even is that? You must be insane if you think I'll believe you." She responded hysterically while frowned and glaring at the man even harder than before and crossed her arms. "Oh, but you will, you don't have a chose in the matter." The masked man responded, looking at the girl sternly, he then sighed "I guess I should explain your new job shouldn't I." What he said sounded more like a statement than a question, and he carried on explaining.

"You will be the middleman of this forest," He said while pointing to the windows and sure enough, on the outside, there was a forest ' How didn't I notice that before?' The girl asked herself. "You have the job as negotiator, judge, executioner, errand boy and among some other things. But that won't be as easy as it sounds, because in this forest reside evil monster, creatures, demons, killers and different mythical being. Things that you humans thought were only in legends and tales." He said that as if he'd said it a million time before and continued "Now, we four were ordered," He moved to point around the room, gesturing to the men. "To get you and bring you here. So in the range of the next six months, we can teach you everything you need to know about being a middleman and how to do it right. At the end of those six months, you will go thru a four-stage test that will prove just how much you have learned, but if you were to fail, you will get executed. Do you understand?" He finally finished while looking at her and tilted his head. The girl was baffled and couldn't believe what she heard, better said she didn't want to believe it.

"You can't be serious right? I mean do you expect me to accept everything you just said as fact" The girl protested while immediately standing, "I don't know who you think you are, but I'm certainly not staying here any longer." And as she was about to head for the door, Jack suddenly spoke up. "And where will you go? You don't have any clue where you even are. Do you think you can just go out of this forest like that? Well, I'm sorry for ruining your parade, but that's not going to happen." He responded to her in his usual bored voice that seemed to be laced in a thin veil of sarcasm. 'He has a point,' She thought while looking at him. 'But it can't be that hard to leave a forest, right?' She reassured herself. "Oh, and another thing, this isn't a normal forest. No, it's a portal between the human world and underworld." He smirked through his mask when he noticed the girls face turn pale, "Though it doesn't look like it, you are in a branch of hell, and the only way to get to the human world is by knowing where the portal is, and we certainly won't be telling you of its location anytime soon." He remarked this time in a way that was much more malicious, almost seeming like he wanted to make her mad or provoke her.

But the girl didn't budge 'Is what he's saying true? I hope it's not, but I can't afford not believing him.' Still not moving from the place she was standing, she glanced down, "Why me?" She said, defeated. Those two words seemed to catch the men off gourd. " W-well," The boy named Toby spoke up. "You we-were chosen b-b-by the Elite." He said softly. "Who are the elite? And what do you mean by they "chose me"." The girl was quick to ask. "The El-elite are four o-o-of the strongest creatures in the underworld, they are the on-ones that choose the midd-middlemen for every branch and reg-ion of hell." Toby said, "We were als-also told m-m-many thi-things about you, your n-n-ame, hobbies, what you aspired to b-be, your dark-est secret, and mu-much more." He finished. "Better said we know everything bout you, Y/N." The boy named Ben stated calmly while smiling. Hearing her name come out o his mouth sent shivers down her spine.

The girl collapsed on the couch in defeat and put her arms to her head, 'Is everything that they're saying genuine? It can't be, can it?' She was in a state of dread and didn't want to belive what they were saying. 'I need to calm down, there has to be a way out of here somehow, and I'll find it.' She kept reassuring herself." Now, as I was saying, we four will be teaching you everything you need to know," Masky spoke up again with his hands behind his back." Your room is upstairs to the left. You should get as much sleep as possible we will start training tomorrow at nine-thirty am," He said while looking into the girl's eyes, "Do NOT be late, or else." He finished while going near the front door of the cabin, "Oh, and don't even try to escape, someone will be standing guard to make sure you don't." And with that, he and everyone else left. She was left alone whit her thoughts in the empty cabin,

'I should go and check out my room shouldn't I, maybe I'll find a way out.' and with that, she went upstairs.

[justimajin]

It’s a Reverse Basket ◍ Part 17

⇝ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

⇝ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst

↳ Basketball AU, Crossdressing AU

⇝ Words: 6k

⇝ Summary: Basketball is your everything; your passion for it running deep and wanting nothing more then to play the sport. Problem is, the sport isn’t offered competitively to girls and with that, all your hopes immediately fizzle away… …but who ever said that was going to stop you?

⇝ Warnings: pg13; *casually throws in a load of angst*

gif credit.

⇝ Previous Parts: Moodboard Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

⇝ Next Update: Tuesday, July 7

Jungkook is dying.

His nose is congested to the point where breathing no longer feels like an easy option, his pink eyes are watery like he’s been crying for hours and his chest aches from the constant coughing fits he’s been having.

He’s dying and it appears that his friends have started to notice.

“Jungkook!” The high pitch of Taehyung’s voice makes him wince, the latter rushing over to him in his dire state, “Are you sick?!”

As if the thermometer sticking out of his mouth and the blanket wrapped around his shivering body wasn’t enough of a dead giveaway, Jungkook lets out a guttural groan to confirm it. Taehyung’s eyes widen and he instantly dashes away only to leave Jungkook and his feverish temperature alone.

“Y/N, where are you??” Taehyung’s voice is loud enough to be heard within the walls, “Jungkook’s sick!”

“He’s sick?” Your much calmer voice questions, a set of soft footsteps growing louder in the direction of his room. You appear at his door, eyes concerned and stature hesitant as you approach his bed and place your palm against his forehead. “His temperature is really high..…”

You quickly jog back into the kitchen, Taehyung darting his eyes between you and Jungkook in confusion. He opts out for staying by his dear friend’s side, watching you re-emerge with a glass of water and some medication you’ve picked up.

Jungkook gratefully exhales once you place both things in his hands, downing the water as fast as he can. Handing the glass to Taehyung, he slumps against his pillow and closes his eyes, both of you worriedly glancing at each other.

“He should rest for the day, don’t let him do anything and make sure he eats at a proper time.” Taehyung nods with the information you relay at him, only now noticing the large bag that’s been strung around your torso.

“Are you going somewhere?”

You hum, “I’m visiting someone.”

“Is it Yoongi?” Taehyung questions right away, an intrigued brow raised up. You hurriedly shake your head, a bit flustered.

“U-Uh no…” You stare at Jungkook again, taking in how pale his skin is and the way he keeps shivering, “Take good care of him when I’m gone though.”

“Roger that.” Taehyung grins, “I’ll get Jimin and Hoseok to help me, so don’t you don’t have to worry.”

You smile, pacing back to the kitchen to retrieve a wet towel. Catching a glimpse of Jungkook’s sick form one last time, you plant the towel on his forehead and decide to back away, ignoring the concerned feeling weighing down in you.

After making Taehyung promise to text you every two hours for an update, you head out, hoping that Jungkook has been left in good hands.

***

You’re gone by the time Jungkook opens his eyes.

He doesn’t have the strength to even fully open them, only mustering to weakly peek through the crack of the door when there’s an echo of voices and a beam of light coming into his room from the kitchen.

“What about carrots?! I’ve heard they’re good for sight!” Hoseok blares, a thudding sound that was similar to a knife cutting against something resonating through the walls.

“I don’t know if Jungkook likes carrots though….” Jimin whispers.

“Of course he likes them! He’s practically a bunny!” Hoseok protests, inducing a sigh from Jimin. 

“I’ll go check on him for now, just make sure Taehyung doesn’t burn something in the meantime.” He quietly says to Hoseok.

“I heard that Jimin!” Taehyung accurses right away. Jimin opts out for hurriedly rushing away until he reaches Jungkook’s room, shutting the door with a relieved exhale. He turns only to be surprised at Jungkook’s new awakening, hurrying to his side.

“You’re awake!” Jimin cutely exclaims, Jungkook’s heavy breathing telling him the latter wasn’t fully functioning just yet. When Jungkook lifts his hand, Jimin instantly takes it and helps him straighten up, swiftly propping up his pillow so he can lean back properly. “Are you hungry? Taehyung was going to make you some porridge.”

Jungkook abruptly chokes, breaking out in a cluster of coughs. Jimin grabs the water bottle resting on his desk, quickly handing it to him.

“Don’t worry Jungkook, Taehyung’s been practicing cooking. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Although Jimin gives the impression of an encouraging friend, he truthfully is worried about what Taehyung will create, hoping that having Hoseok constantly monitoring him will bring some good.

“Do you want me to bring the nurse here?” Jimin questions with Jungkook still not looking so great. There’s a layer of grogginess to him, like he’s been in an eternal slumber only to have woken up now. His large nose has also been entirely covered in a hue of red, the sniffles appearing to not leave him any time soon. 

Jungkook promptly shakes his head and Jimin sighs, knowing that he was simply being stubborn at this point. The only reason he didn’t want to see the nurse is because he would definitely be issued a note that would cause him to miss the upcoming practices – the exact ones slated to start gearing all of you up for the upcoming championship.

However, it doesn’t take away the concern Jimin has if Jungkook’s in such a state, rest and time off being mandatory if he wants to even get better.

Suddenly the door of his room comes barging open, Taehyung dressed in his signature apron with a tray in his hands. Hoseok hurriedly follows behind him, the scared expression on his face contrasting the content one Taehyung holds.

“I made you porridge from my own hands Jungkook!” Taehyung cutely exclaims, placing the tray down and spooning out some to him.

Jungkook weakly moves to take it, his eyes flickering across the terrified looks Jimin and Hoseok throw at each other when he gulps it down. His features scrunch up, twisted as if he had eaten something incredibly bitter and chalked.

“W-Why is there so much salt in it?” He crocks, coughing to have it stay down as Taehyung spins around and stares at Hoseok and Jimin confused.

“Is there too much salt?” He raises a spoon to both of them and they cower away.

“We’re good! If Jungkook says it’s salty then it's probably salty!” Hoseok pipes up, backing out as much as he can.

In the midst of this, Jungkook sighs, a strong feeling inside him telling him that it was quite possible for him to die at the hands of his friends instead of the cold he was stuck with.

After changing out of your clothes, you pat down the simple white dress you wear and adjust your falling locks. Peering at your watch, you recall Yoongi telling you that he would pick up by the side of the school.

“Hey.” You look over your shoulder to see him dressed in a simple black dress shirt and jeans. It’s different from what he usually wears, having become too accustomed to seeing him in either a jersey or shorts and beanie combo.

“Hey.” You smile, gliding over as he takes your hand.

“It’ll take about two buses to get there.” Yoongi informs you, leading you along the sidewalk until you see a station come into view, “An hour max.”

You hum, carefully treading through the crowd in order to get aboard the bus. Yoongi helps you climb on and swiftly grabs a seat, letting you take the one beside the window before he’s plopping down beside you.

Darting your eyes outside the window, you eagerly take in the view. Living at your high school has it’s own set of perks, but one of the biggest disadvantages is that you don’t really get the opportunity to explore aside from games.

You feel something poke your shoulder, whirling to see Yoongi gazing at you. He raises his hand, his fingers outstretched.

“There’s five of us.” He begins, “Me, Yoonji, my older brother and my parents.”

You nod, his debriefing almost sounding like he was explaining a game strategy to you. “You’ve already met Yoonji, she’s the youngest and in middle school.”

“My older brother graduated from university recently, he’s quieter but easier to get along with in comparison.”

You smile, recalling how it wasn’t hard to click with Yoonji because of her resemblance in both appearance and personality to Yoongi, “I really wanted you to introduce you to him today.”

Frowning when he stops, you can’t help but wonder, “What about your parents?”

Yoongi’s form stiffens next to you, his eyes avoiding yours and that’s when you remember how he explained his parents getting in the way of his basketball dream. A part of you contemplates if this is the first time he’s going back home, the answer only lying ahead of you in one hour’s time.

Jungkook’s eyelids flutter, barely conscious after being fed all of Taehyung’s disastrous porridge. His stomach aches like it’s eaten something that it probably shouldn’t have been consumed, the concoction somehow lulling him back to sleep once he passes out again.

“Jungkook!” The sounds of shoes squeaking alert him, whirling around to see a young man with light brown hair and dressed in the same white jersey he wears, “The championship is coming up! Aren’t you excited?”

Jungkook shrugs. He wasn’t filled with as much excitement as he was with nervousness, the day’s slowly counting by.

“Not really, I still have more practicing to do.” He mumbles, trekking over to grab a basketball. Yugyeom frowns, pacing after him.

“Why don’t you practice later? We were going to grab dinner in a while.”

Jungkook ponders the offer, wondering if he can put off practice for tomorrow until someone struts in.

“There’s no point in asking Yugyeom, nothing gets in between Jeon and basketball.” Another voice nearby snickers at him, Jungkook’s eyes morphing into a glare as his grip on the ball tightens.

“Don’t say that Minhyuk.” Yugyeom turns to Jungkook with a smile, “So no then? Practice instead?”

Jungkook solemnly smiles, “After the championship is over.”

Yugyeom nods understandably, walking over and looping his arm around Minhyuk. Jungkook scowls when the latter throws him a dirty look, sending a distasteful message that he doesn’t need to see.

He wishes Yugyeom would stop hanging out with Minhyuk and his friends, but he knows he can’t help it when they’re all unfortunately on the same team. Letting out a sigh, he resumes shooting hoops. 

~

Jungkook can’t believe what just happened.

Moments ago, he was in the fast-paced environment of the game, the crowd roaring as he effortlessly slides through players missing gaps and consistently lands points. Another moment he’s lying on the ground, his ankle and knee painfully throbbing.

“We have an injured member!” The coach calls out, the referee blowing his whistle. Jungkook notices himself being lifted, his eyes barely making out who it is until his coach and Yugyeom comes into view.

Yugyeom is signalled to head back into the game as Jungkook is sent over to the nurse, but his blood boils when he catches the faint smile drawing on Minhyuk’s features before everything goes blank.

~

He ends up missing the championship.

Everything passes by a blur that day and when he wakes up, he discovers that it was suggested he be replaced to continue the game forward. He’s missed the opportunity he’s been training for, tossed to the side simply because of an injury.

Yoongi has a small house.

It takes you about fifteen minutes to reach it, being the last of many on the road. Intricate stone steps lead you to the entrance, where you notice the abundance of plants surrounding it, ranging from growing fruits and vegetables to plush flowers and daisies.

Someone is already sitting on the porch, legs crossed and a book tucked in her hands. Her gaze slides over to you once you emerge from behind Yoongi.

“Y/N.” You warmly smile and the book Yoonji was reading is discarded as she gets up, dusting off her skirt and sending a narrowed glare at her brother. “Took you long enough.”

Yoongi doesn’t even say anything back to that, simply quirking up an eyebrow. He reaches for your hand again and leads you to the front door, making you a bit flustered as you’re literally holding hands in front of Yoonji. She doesn’t seem to notice though, merely concentrated on unlocking and twisting the knob.

Once the door is shut, you take a look around.

It’s warm and cozy, a light brown theme overtaking the home. You find there’s more plants set aside inside the house, but it isn’t as much as you found outside. Other than that, it’s extremely clean too, not a speck of dust in sight.

“I tried cleaning up a bit.” Yoonji acknowledges when you survey the home, “Wait here, I’ll go find everyone.”

You nod and Yoonji leaves. Your eyes are still glued to the home’s layout, as if you were discovering a piece of Yoongi that was carefully tucked away.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Yoongi lets out a nostalgic exhale and you hum.

“Is this your first time coming back…?” You ask quietly, cautiously eyeing him to make sure you weren't prying too much.

“Yeah….” Yoongi scratches the back of his neck, growing dismayed, “I haven’t come back here since–“

“Yoongi?”

Both of you pivot to the sound of shuffling down the stairs, a young man suddenly appearing. His confusion flickers into recognition, and that’s when he’s instantly tugging Yoongi into his arms.

You giggle as Yoongi becomes flustered, hugging the man back and throwing a playful look at you when he hears your laughter. He suddenly seperates from him, curious eyes rolling to you, “Oh! Whose this?”  

You’re about to introduce yourself but Yoongi takes the words right out of your mouth.

“This is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

The man’s eyes light up at that, “Really?” You timidly nod and a giant smile breaks through him, “That’s great! I’m Min Junki, Yoongi’s older brother.”

Your eyes light up in surprise. While Yoonji looked like an exact replica of Yoongi, his older brother’s appearance is drastically different. You can suppose they have the same eyes, but other than that you wouldn’t have even guessed they were related.

Yoonji suddenly reappears, her eyes darting over in surprise. “Oh, you found Junki.”

Junki smiles and that’s when Yoonji steps to the side, a much older woman coming forward behind her.

You blink as she draws closer, her arms crossed and a glare set in her eyes. Her hair is longer and curler in comparison to Yoonji, a set of glasses resting on her nose and a long purple shawl draped over her shoulders. She has the same eyes as the rest of the people in the room, her appearance matching more with Yoongi than anything.

She doesn’t acknowledge you though, rather her menacing glare is set on someone else entirely.

For a moment, no one speaks. Yoongi and her continue to stare at each other, until she finally opens her mouth.

“You look like a boiled dumpling.” She scoffs, tugging her shawl closer. Her eyes then land on you, causing you to recline a bit behind Yoongi, “Who are you?”

“His girlfriend.” Yoonji pitches in, resulting in her frowning even more and suddenly giving you the urge to disappear.

“Hm.” She spins around without another word, heading into the kitchen. You’re not sure what to take from all this, but when Yoongi gently ushers you to sit down with him, you know he can sense the puzzlement stemming from you. 

Junki and Yoonji do the same, already growing comfortable with your presence despite only knowing you for a short period of time. They start throwing out questions back and forth, sparking your interest in them as well. You discover that Yoonji can be extremely sarcastic and ruthless, but her somewhat intimidating stance hides the childish side she has when Junki steals some of the snacks she was eating and passes them over to you with a smile as she pouts.

Junki on the other hand, contrasts all of them. He can be incredibly quiet like Yoongi but just like he said, he’s easy to get along with. It’s obvious to decipher that he’s the oldest as well, concern immediately sparking up on his features whenever Yoongi is brought up into conversation. 

“I heard you guys had a game recently that Yoonji went to.” Junki explains, “How was it?”

You beam, “It went great, we ended up winning.”

Junki’s smiles, “That’s good to hear, did your family get a chance to see you too?”

You falter a bit at that, a hand already placing itself on yours. You shoot Yoongi a grateful look.

“My family actually doesn’t know I’m attending this school…”

Yoonji stares at you in surprise and Junki frowns. Yoongi simply stays put, as if he knew what was about to come.

“You can say I’m doing something they won’t approve of.” You wistfully smile, catching Junki’s eyes flickering over to Yoongi. The gesture makes you do the same, noticing that although Yoongi was sitting right next to you, it seemed like his mind was somewhere else.  

Your eyes wander over to the staircase, recognizing that there’s still a soft sound of footsteps right above your heads.

When Jungkook comes to, there’s a woman standing at the foot of his bed with her arms crossed.

His brows furrow, mouth opening to say a string of words. A thermometer is being shoved into it before he can, loud stomps echoing through the room.

“A high fever.” She mumbles, “Along with a stuffy nose and a sore throat.”

She gestures at the piles of tissues collecting near his bed and the water bottle resting on his desk.

“What...a-are you…doing here…?” Jungkook croaks, his voice barely making out. 

“I was called.” Soyoung steps to the side to reveal three very concerned faces, all glued to Jungkook’s dreary form. “By them.”

“Sorry Jungkook…” Jimin whispers, head lulling down in shame.

“After Taehyung’s porridge, you fell asleep and looked even worse.” Hoseok explains, “We had to call her here.”

Jimin nods and Jungkook lets out a sigh. This was the last thing he wanted.

But then his sight scans across the room, taking in how Jimin occasionally concerned glances at him while Hoseok darts his eyes over to what Soyoung was scribbling down on her notepad for Jungkook. Taehyung stands with them, curiously peering into the kitchen where he still has a bowl full of hearty porridge left.

He cracks a smile, wondering how long it’s been since his own team was so worried about him.

“Fine.” Jungkook mumbles, turning his head to Soyoung, “You take a look at me and if I need to stay in my dorm for a couple of days, I will.”

“That won’t be necessary.” As Jungkook’s eyes spark up in confusion, Soyoung points down to her notepad, “I’ve prescribed some helpful medication. Just drink a lot of fluids this next couple of days and you’ll be fine by the time you guys head for nationals.”

His eyes perk up at that, a loud cheer erupting into the room. The three individuals from his team are ecstatic that he’ll be joining them for their final game, something that doesn’t let the smile disappear from Jungkook’s lips.

Night falls and preparations for dinner commence. 

Junki had initially offered to go out for dinner when Yoongi’s mother remarked that she wasn’t expecting any extra guests, however at the suggestion she interjected and said she’ll see what she can do. Yoonji goes upstairs and Junki talks to Yoongi, leaving you to be alone in the kitchen as you help her set the table.

Her back is turned as she plucks out dishes from the cabinets, with you swiftly moving around the table and arranging everything.

“Is…” You pause, wondering if you had heard her say something, “Is he eating well…”

You stop for a moment and hum. “And is he doing okay….with basketball and such…”

The way she says basketball makes you wince, as if simply getting it off her chest was too much to bear.

“He is.” You reply and her shoulders sink down, like those questions had been weighing far too heavy on her.

That’s when she swivels around, bringing the remaining dishes and assisting you with placing them around the table. Once you’re done, you turn to go find Yoongi but her arm snaps onto your wrist, holding you in place.

Your eyes light up if she needs anything else, but the guilt painted over her features has them contorting instead.

“He hasn’t come back ever since he left.” She quietly mutters, her eyes filled with dense regret, “But he came back t-this time, with you…”

Your eyes warm understandingly with the words, “If he ever needs something, p-please let me know.”

A tender smile lines on your lips and you place your hand on top of hers, “Of course.”

She reciprocates your smile, finally appearing to be on the same page as you. Facing away from you, a light scoff leaves her lips.

“Aish Yoongi-ah, where did you find yourself such a nice girlfriend?”

Her words make you blush and she chuckles, leaving your hand. You go on to search for Yoongi, darting your head left and right, but to no avail do you find him. Instead, you bump into someone else.

“Y-Y/N!” Junki nervously laughs, “Is something wrong?”

You hum, “Where’s Yoongi?”

“Uhh he should be back soon– oh there he is!”

Your eyes widen when Yoongi emerges from the staircase, his cheeks red and his fists clenched. You tap his shoulder and the look in his eyes when he turns around almost makes you jolt in fear, only for him to rapidly blink it away.

“What happened?” You whisper, the hostility radiating off his form growing more and more apparent. Yoongi merely shakes his head, taking your hand and leading you away.

“Come on, let’s go have dinner.”

You nod but can’t help notice how incredibly coarse his voice is.

***

By the time dinner rolls around, a seat is left empty in the corner.

You’re sitting on a chair that Yoongi’s mom pulled out from the attic and the one you were originally going to sit on has been tucked away once his mom insisted you sit on a different one.

When a light-hearted conversation is started by Junki at the table, Yoonji pops in with her own sarcastic remarks. Yoongi’s mom occasionally pitches in, letting out low chuckles and then pestering Yoongi to eat more by sliding a whole bowl of rice over to his side. Yoongi protests, but then his mother proclaims that he doesn’t even eat enough rice and he sighs defeated, spooning it out in front of her as a way to show he was eating it.

It makes you smile but you can easily tell the difference in Yoongi’s posture. It’s almost like he’s forcing himself to eat, a cutted edge to his tone that reminds you of the time you had argued over the game with Seokjin.

Your gaze shifts, glancing at something else entirely that no one in the room seems to address.

The empty seat in the far corner is starting to bother you.

With a deep sigh, you get up. Everyone suddenly stares at you, even Yoongi.

“I need to use the bathroom.” You mutter, Yoongi’s mother rising from her seat and then gently ushering you where to go. You gratefully smile, following her directions for the most part.

That is, until you suddenly take a sharp right turn.

Your footsteps are quiet, no one noticing that you’ve long disappeared into the spiraling staircase instead.

You’re met with six doors when you reach the top. You assume the four bigger ones belonging to individuals of the family, the smallest one being another bathroom.

And you assume the one that’s slightly cracked open unlike the rest if where you need to be.

A knock resonates on the door’s room.

“Come in.” A deep voice rings through the thin layer of the frame, your eyes widening once your suspicions have been confirmed. With another deep breath, you take a step inside and shut the door fully.

The man sitting at the desk stares at you strangely in glasses, like he hasn’t been expecting anyone to come through the door. His appearance matches with Junki’s more than anything, but his posture is a lot similar to the one Yoongi currently holds.

You ask the question that has been sitting on the tip of your tongue.

“Are you Yoongi’s father?”

His stare on you suddenly narrows, so characteristically similar to what his son would do. He darts his gaze back to the papers sprayed across his desk, two heavy words escaping him.

“Please leave.”

You take a sharp inhale, brows furrowing. 

“Min Yoongi. Bangtan Sondeyeon’s Ace Captain that’s returned for five consecutive sessions. Holds a record of 15 points and 3 rebounds and has led several teams into victory thanks to his rigorous training. He aims to head into nationals soon with his current team.”

His father frowns, “Why are you telling me all this?”

You softly smile, “I thought hearing your son’s accomplishments would help understand why he decided to pursue basketball in the end.”

He has a similar reaction to his wife at the word, but his is filled with more anger compared to hers. “He’s going to get nowhere if he keeps attending that high school and he’ll end up regretting the day he didn’t listen to me.” His gaze intensifies on you now, sharp words being spat out, “I don’t suppose you’re also interested in that same stupid game he plays?”

Your eyes sink in dismay, “I suggest you leave, there’s no way I’m going to accept his decision.”

When his father resumes back to his work without another word, you remain in defeat. Pivoting on your heels with a sigh, you begin scrambling in your mind for anything else you can say to change his mind, but unfortunately, you draw a static blank.

Your feet come to a halt. 

You suddenly turn around, his father’s eyes perking up in rage now.

“I told you to leave, where are you back ag–“

“You weren’t surprised.” You simply say, eyes darting around the man’s office now. Your words draw out confusion from him, a giant smile forming on your lips as you walk over to a shelf of his.

“When I told you about Yoongi’s accomplishments, you weren’t surprised.” Hope spikes up in you, the man scrambling to his feet the longer you stare at his broad shelf full of books and decor. That’s where you find it, your hands coming into contact with the smooth disk carefully placed into a casket.

The words are scribbled messily on the disk in a green marker, but it’s enough for you to flip it around by the time he makes his way over to you.

“Yoongi’s basketball games.” You whisper, a knowing smile on your features sd he helplessly stares at you, “All this time…you watched and even recorded his games. That’s why hearing his statistics didn’t surprise you.”

“H-How did you….” He mumbles, still not believing you found what he was desperate to hide.

“You’re Yoongi’s father.” You lightly laugh, placing it in his hands, “I assumed the apple and the tree wouldn’t be so far different from each other.”

His father silently stares at the disk, dejected. “I was curious….” He begins, “Curious to see what was so important about this blasted game that had my son going against my wishes.”

You smile, “He’s good at it, isn’t he?”

His father hums, “Very good. More than I could have imagined.”

“So why are you acting like he isn’t?” You question, painfully aware of what could have occurred in this office before you had arrived.

He sighs, “It’s complicated…”

“It shouldn’t be.” You softly say, “All it takes is for you to admit that what Yoongi did was right in the end…and that you’re proud of him.”

From the conversation you had with his mother, you can tell there much more to the story of his parents than Yoongi thought. Although you know this is something you know you can never expect from your own family, you don’t want Yoongi suffering through the same result because of his father’s stubbornness.

His father looks up from the disk and you encouragingly smile.

***

The last thing Yoongi expected when you returned, was seeing his father by your side.

He abruptly gets up his seat, his features harshly contorting and it only confirms to you that you ended up making the right call. His father doesn’t speak a word, simply sitting on the empty chair in the corner and beginning to grab some of the food spread out on a plate.

His presence causes a cascade of confusion, but then he utters words that have them all in surprise.

“When is your next game?” His father doesn’t move his gaze away from the table, but he catches Yoongi off guard completely, who can’t seem to muster any words for a response. 

“We’re actually heading into nationals in these upcoming weeks.” You beam and his father hums as Yoongi avertedly glances at you.

You throw him a sincere smile, though you don’t think it’s helped with the shock he’s facing. Dinner passes by after a few more conversations, mainly from Junki who asks if he can attend the next one with Yoongi’s father as Yoongi remains paralyzed from the thought. You end up answering most of their inquiries, swiftly taking a hold of everything when you don’t want any of it to become too much for him.

As you prepare to leave at the front door, Yoongi’s mother smiles and requests for you to come again. You thank her for the hospitality and Junki shakes your hand with Yoonji throwing you an intrigued smirk. Yoongi stands to the side beside you during all this, his attention getting captured when his father steps forward.

“Stand up straight.” He sternly commands, “You can’t be slouching all the time if you’re playing basketball.”

The comment seems to throw Yoongi completely off, who merely scoffs and finally gives a reaction, “I am standing straight.”

His father hums, standing beside his wife when you lean down to put your shoes on. Yoongi lets you lean on him as you struggle, sending a smile in his family’s direction.  

“It was great meeting all of you.”

“Come back soon.” His father states, “And don’t forget to bring him too.”

He points to Yoongi who rolls his eyes, opening the door to let you out. You step out and wave back, before the door completely closes.

You walk content beside Yoongi, “They all seem nice.”

Yoongi doesn’t answer you and you pause, wondering if something was wrong. You don’t pick on how he waits before the two of you are further away from his home, instantly spinning around before you almost walk into him.

He hugs you.

You blink, not expecting him to suddenly do that out of the blue, but the way he clings onto you tells you something else.

“I don’t know what you did or how you did it,” He mumbles, “b-but thank you…”

There’s a tender smile on your lips, patting his back soothingly the longer he hugs you. You pretend not to see the harsh trembles his back shutters through or the way he instinctively tightens his grip on you, simply left smiling and turning a blind eye.  

The door is swung open when you enter, locking it behind you and Yoongi. The sound of footsteps alert both of you, a patch of fluffy hair poking out.

“Y/N, you’re back!” Taehyung exclaims, his eyes landing on Yoongi, “AHA! So you did visit Yoongi!”

You smile, having long changed out of your clothes, “Something like that. Is Jungkook doing okay?”

Taehyung grins, ushering you to follow him. He presses a finger to his lips, gesturing for you to be quiet.

When the door to Jungkook’s room opens, you see the following: Jungkook is sleeping underneath a mountain of blankets, bowls of porridge, empty water bottles and tissues placed next to the bed. Jimin is unconscious at the foot of his bed and Hoseok is passed out on the ground, resting his head on one of Jungkook’s pillows. Soyoung sits in the corner, a book in her hands and glasses perched on her nose.

“Oh,” She peers up, “You’re back.”

“What happened in here?” You question, shuffling over to Jungkook to plant your hand against his forehead. His temperature has exceedingly dropped, shifting into a more normal number compared to before. The movement causes him to stir though, eyes fluttering open.

“Y/N…?”

“Are you feeling better Jungkook?”

He nods and Soyoung helps him get up. The movement causes Jimin and Hoseok to stir too, all eyes landing on you.

“Seems like you all took good care of him.” You smile but then Jungkook coughs, head lulling against his pillow.

“You should have seen what happened here while you were gone. I almost thought I was going to die at one point.”

“If you ate all my porridge, it wouldn’t have been a problem!” Taehyung exclaims, earning a whine from Jungkook as you chuckle, “Oh by the way Y/N, Yoongi’s asleep.”

Taehyung points behind him to the couch and you catch a glimpse of his head resting against one of the couch handles.

“Yoongi?” Jungkook wonders and you hum, facing Taehyung. 

“It’s fine, let him sleep.” You say with a faint smile, observing how his expression seemed a lot more content in comparison to this morning. “He’s had a really long day.”

[alltingfinns]

Part 2

John crestfallen at what looks like another sign of Sherlock not caring. Except Sherlock obviously sees it differently, time is of the essence and this is probably not the first kidnapping case he’s seen.

He looked through the fairy tale book probably because it was noticably out of place.

“Anyone can walk in anywhere if they pick the right moment”. So close to Jim’s method.

Oh God. Sherlock telling the John mirror that they’re better off avoiding relationships since at least one attempt involved a master criminal. At this point John is avoiding relationships but will soon enough meet “Mary”. Also worried about his interest in Sherlock who has the air of menace drawn thickly around him.

Did that sentence even make sense?

The modern equivalence to ACD Sherlock knowing the origin of soil samples.

“Thank you John” “Actually I’m just his mirror”

Keeping a sharp eye on John so the mistake seems more psychological than visual.

He looks upset when she says she doesn’t count. Just because he doesn’t like her romantically it doesn’t mean he doesn’t value her as a friend. He’s just really bad at valuing his friends. But also she might be so long gone on him that his lack of reciprocation is seen as an all out rejection.

Oh God the quick shots of the kids eating the poisoned chocolate. That’s my fill of horror for the holiday.

“Not be myself.”

Collar goes down.

I wonder how Jim faked a Sherlock to traumatize the girl.

We know Anderson’s theory on that from TEH, latex perfection.

Sherlock being subjected to the “they’ll think you’re crazy or lying if you say anything” quick show of “I O U”. Also known as the dancing frog effect.

Sally fishing for a reaction because she needs a bit more than a hunch and a screaming child to go on. But keeping it subtle enough that you have to be Sherlock Holmes to fully pick up on it and deduce what she might be thinking.

John being snubbed but it’s like other times. Sherlock is going into danger and needs to keep John out of the firing line. Not the first or last time he pulls this stunt.

Next on fairy tales with Richard Brook: The Story of Sherlock and His Very Bad and Downright Awful Evening.

Wonder if being found with a dead body is going to compound his situation? I mean, obviously he didn’t have a gun and the guy was shot from a distance, but at this point it’s the rumors that matter not the facts.

Been a while since I saw TPLoSH, but wasn’t that the one where dust was part of his filing system?

“Can’t kill an idea”

The breaking point. The wrong conclusion I wrote in the last post. Here it is.

He thinks what would upset John is being duped by Sherlock into liking/praising/admiring him.

I want to write a bigger thing about it, although I can’t imagine that the subject has gone unexplored in the fandom.

Sherlock is the one doubting in this scene. Doubting that John sees him for more than the Persona.

Remove the Persona, and John’s affection goes with it.

But John isn’t just there for the clever man in The Hat. Coat collar up or down, he cares for Sherlock.

The doubt will unfortunately not die here, or The Hat wouldn’t have such a pronounced presence in future episodes.

Are English gingerbread men always that thick? Then again it’s possible we just generally bake them thinner in Sweden, judging from a couple of German cookie cutters I have that doesn’t quite work on the level of thin we usually bake.

John standing up for him throughout this scene while Sherlock just quietly accepts it.

Am I even going to make it to the rooftop?

Both John and Sherlock get such good smash cut scenes in this episode.

“A good friend bails you out of jail, a best friend sits next to you and say ‘We fucked up.’”

The way Lestrade underreacts to the situation is amazing.

Once again on Gun Safety with Sherlock Holmes.

Lestrade’s face in his hands. Sherlock’s very tired dad/babysitter.

“Now people will definitely talk”

Priorities, John!

They’re going to need to coordinate. Good thing that they at least can do that in life or death situations, because they’re terrible with it otherwise.

“A lie that is preferable to the truth.” Also known as every straight Sherlock reading, because people can’t deal with their hero being gay.

Interesting that the guy got shot just as Sherlock lowered his gun. As in after he got the information. He wasn’t shot by one of the others. This is the work of Moriarty’s shooter.

I thought from the look on Sherlock’s face when John mentioned Brook that he had an idea who it was. But apparently not.

So the money was good enough that he’d risk jail time but still not enough that he wouldn’t risk the wrath of his ex-employer, the master criminal, for what she could get him? Sherlock was right on the money in his analysis of her. Not smart or trustworthy, just hungry.

Oh her look of pity to John. Like he’s the one that was duped.

A folder with printouts. That’s her big cache of evidence?

For Christ’s sake, her character in The IT Club is smarter than this!

And to top off her character she does a pathetic repeat of Sherlock’s insult to her and then John brushes her aside.

Wrap up a lie in the truth. There are way too many good lines in this episode.

“If I wasn’t everything that you think I am, that I think I am, would you still help me?”

So close to the actual question he has for John but will never ask.

Mycroft doesn’t actually believe in the key code nonsense, does he? Both Holmes brothers can’t be this blind on matters of cyber security.

This scene was at the end of THoB, which doesn’t have to mean anything timewise, granted. But I sincerely doubt a hypothetical key code was of concern.

Are there any updated versions of M theory around? I think I saw some new idea about Mycroft being in charge rather than Moriarty, but I still get the impression that these scenes happened even if no key code was involved. So why did he really have Moriarty slapped around?

“Moriarty wanted Sherlock destroyed, and you have given him the perfect ammunition.”

Wasn’t there a theory that Mycroft manipulated John into Sherlock’s path because he thought the doctor could save his brother?

Jim used the code to change his identity in the records. You seriously think Kitty checked the records, rather than taking him at his word and printouts?

Even then, Jim has worked with someone who knows what the record keepers like. No need for a magical key code.

Ah yes, about ten characters of binary. The ultimate key code!

“No. Friends protect people.”

People is John.

I personally love coming up with names with hidden meanings, so that’s probably what I would have picked too.

On the one hand he brought back the scary SUDDEN SHOUT he terrified me with in TGG, but on the other hand he used it to say “doofus”.

“Ordinary Sherlock”. This scene must have been fun to act.

Mrs Hudson assuming that John’s back because Sherlock did something clever and made it alright.

“Police! ...sorta”

Sherlock has already set Lazarus in motion, but the possibility of not having to leave John if he can get to Jim has to be explored.

Faked suicide like the bride. I don’t blame Sherlock for not seeing it. He’s running on no sleep, more adrenaline than blood in his veins and someone just seemingly shot himself in front of him. Not to mention the overall pressure he’s under.

The little laugh when he can’t make John doubt him.

Everything’s blurry.

“I researched you”. Subtle slam at Elementary?

Oh God their hands reaching.

“He’s my friend” with his voice breaking

“Say it now.” “I can’t.”

Mrs Hudson outangering John is the levity needed now.

“Stop this.”

Things are blurry again.

Risked being seen just to see John one last time and hear his words.

And I need to wash my face.

I also remembered that Sherlock talked of a lookalike in TEH, but I’m keeping my musing on Sherlock faking for transparency. Also I’m too lazy to go back and edit.