#but those are his ladies. he loves his ladies! he will teach a complete routine by the end of the season if its the LAST THING HE DOES

[tripamania]

continued here

[sweetvoidstuff]

Yoga Pose: Love

Jungkook x Reader

Summary: Jungkook, a dedicated gym enthusiast, finds his routine disrupted when Y/N, a serene yoga instructor, joins the gym. As they bond over shared challenges and personal growth, their friendship evolves into a profound connection, nurtured by their mutual love for fitness and resilience in overcoming obstacles.

Masterlist

Jungkook wiped the sweat from his brow, his chest heaving with exertion after a particularly grueling workout session. The gym around him buzzed with activity—weights clanked, music pumped through the speakers, and people moved with purpose. This was his sanctuary, where he pushed his limits and found solace in the rhythm of physical challenge.

Jimin, the blonde gym owner and a close friend, had recently introduced a new addition to his team: Y/N, a yoga instructor renowned for her transformative classes. Jungkook had heard whispers of her arrival, promising to bring a fresh perspective and welcoming atmosphere to the gym. Intrigued, he had yet to witness her teaching firsthand.

As Jungkook approached the water fountain, his eyes swept across the studio floor where Y/N conducted her class. soft, ambient music is heared and a gentle scent of lavender lingers around the studio door. The room is warmly lit, creating a calming atmosphere. Mats are laid out in neat rows. She guides her students through a series of asanas, or poses, each one flowing seamlessly into the next. Moving with grace and precision, demonstrating each pose with clarity while offering modifications for those who need them. From the grounding Mountain Pose to the invigorating Warrior Series, each movement is deliberate and purposeful. Her fluid movements seemed almost choreographed, a serene contrast to the intense energy of the weights area.

“Hey, Jungkook!” Jimin’s voice interrupted Jungkoos thoughts. “How’s the workout going?” He hadnt realised how long he had watched the session and Y/N.

“Good, Jimin,” Jungkook replied, glancing back at Y/N’s class. “Who’s the new instructor?”

Jimin followed Jungkook’s gaze and grinned proudly. “That’s Y/N. She’s fantastic—her classes are really popular with the ladies.”

Jungkook nodded appreciatively, taking a moment to observe Y/N's teaching style a little longer before sipping from his water bottle. “She seems great,” he remarked quietly a soft blush forming on his cheeks.

Later that week, after completing his usual routine and stretching out his muscles, Jungkook overheard a group of guys loitering near the studio entrance. Their snide remarks about Yoga class cut through the gym’s usual din.

“Yoga? Seriously? That’s not even a real workout,” scoffed one of them, smirking as he leaned against the wall.

“Yeah, what’s next? A knitting club? Park should have put a Cycling session there or anything else, man.” another chimed in, prompting laughter from his companions.

“At least they look good stretching like that,” added a third, gesturing dismissively towards the big glass studio doors.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his tongue poking at the inside of his cheek in anger. He had always believed in respecting every form of physical activity, understanding the dedication, discipline, and skill required to pull through with any kind of workout routine. Those comments struck a nerve—dismissive, disrespectful, and entirely uncalled for. Especially as the girls closest to the door shyly turned their heads at the noise.

Meanwhile, you seemed focused on your class and undeterred by the comments echoing nearby, continuing to guide your students with professionalism and grace. As Jungkook watched you calmly lead your class, he felt a surge of admiration for your poise and resilience. You embodied a lot he valued in fitness—a commitment to excellence, inclusivity, and unwavering dedication to your students. It was clear to him that you were not just an instructor, but a role model who commanded respect through your actions and expertise.

A couple of weeks passed in the steady rhythm of the gym. You continued leading your yoga classes with unwavering dedication, despite the occasional snide remarks from a group of guys who loitered near the studio area. Jungkook, often observing from a distance after his workouts, seemed increasingly agitated each time he overheard their disrespectful comments.

One afternoon, after finishing your usual routine, you found yourself chatting with Jimin near the front desk. Your class had just concluded, and you approached them with a friendly smile, ready to head home for the day.

“Hey, Jimin,” you greeted warmly, nodding politely at Jungkook.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jimin responded, introducing you formally. “That's Jungkook. Jungkook, Y/N.”

“Hi,” Jungkook smiled back at you, admiration for you evident in his eyes. You returned the smile graciously.

“How’s everything going?” Jimin inquired, leaning casually against the counter.

“Good, as usual,” you replied, your voice carrying a hint of weariness. “The classes are great, with ecxeption of those guys…”

Jungkook’s brows furrowed, his frustration simmering just beneath the surface. “Yeah, about that. I wanted to talk to you about some of the members. Their comments are way out of line.”

Jimin’s expression shifted to concern, exchanging a concerned glance between you and Jungkook. “Should I talk to them? It’s not acceptable for them to make you or the others uncomfortable.”

Shaking your head calmly, your demeanor composed despite the underlying annoyance. “I appreciate it, Jimin, but I’m not fazed by them. I’ve dealt with worse.”

Jungkook nodded thoughtfully, his respect for you growing. “Still, you shouldn’t have to put up with it. If you ever need backup, just let me know.”

Your smile widened gratefully. “Thanks, Jungkook. It means a lot. Just having some privacy screens on the windows would be appreciated. Not all the girls want to feel like they’re on display.”

“Consider it done,” Jimin assured you with a nod of determination. “I’ll get that sorted out.”

As you bid them good evening and headed towards the exit, Jungkook’s admiration for you was palpable. You handled adversity with grace and strength, your focus unwavering on your passion for yoga and your students rather than letting the ignorance of a few detract from your mission.

Later that week, true to his word, Jimin had privacy screens installed around the studio windows, ensuring you and your students could practice yoga without feeling scrutinized or objectified. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by you. You expressed your gratitude with a nod and a warm smile to Jimin.

Your classes continued, now with a renewed sense of peace. The girls in your class seemed more at ease, no longer casting wary glances towards the windows. Your studio became an even more welcoming sanctuary, a place where everyone could focus on their practice without the distraction of unwanted attention.

Over the next few weeks, your interactions with Jungkook blossomed into a genuine friendship. You noticed him actively seeking you out a couple of times, and in turn, you made a point to spot him as soon as you came in. Those moments of connection brightened your day—whether it was sharing a quick chat after your workouts or exchanging friendly smiles across the gym floor.

One day, after a particularly challenging boxing session with Jimin, Jungkook noticed you watching him from the sidelines with a curious expression. As you caught his eye, he wiped the sweat from his face and sauntered over with a playful smirk.

“Enjoying the show?” he teased lightly, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

You laughed, feeling a slight flush spread across your cheeks. “You’re pretty good, Jungkook. I might have to join one of Jimin’s classes someday.”

He grinned, his playful demeanor lighting up his features. “I’d love to see that. Maybe I can join one of your yoga classes in return.”

“Deal,” you said with a smile, extending your hand for a friendly shake. Jungkook’s hand met yours, his touch warm and firm, sending a subtle thrill through you. His fingers were strong, yet surprisingly gentle, wrapping around yours with a confident ease. The calluses on his palm told tales of hours spent lifting weights and honing his physique, while the smoothness of his skin spoke of care and dedication to his craft. As your hands clasped together, you couldn’t help but notice the contrast between his slightly larger hand and your own, a physical reminder of the differences and similarities that drew you together.

However, it wasn’t easy to coordinate meetups, despite both of you attending the same gym. As a fitness instructor, some of your class schedules clashed with Jimin’s, making it challenging to attend his sessions. Despite your best efforts, your schedules rarely aligned. Jimin’s classes were popular among women, partly due to his charismatic and his appearance. Many attended to get close to him, but few could keep up with the demanding workouts he offered.

On the other hand, Jungkook made an effort to attended your yoga classes, where he stood out as the lone man amidst a sea of women. He approached yoga with dedication, diligently stretching and balancing, though he was often surrounded by admirers after class, making it difficult to approach him. It was impossible not to notice Jungkook’s attractiveness, which was on par with Jimin’s. Despite these challenges, life had a knack for throwing unexpected curveballs into the mix, complicating things further.

After a particularly bad day, you found yourself needing an outlet for your frustration. You came to the gym on your off day, feeling mentally and emotionally charged. Your usual calm demeanor was replaced by a storm of emotions that you needed to unleash. You waltzed through the front desk without greeting anybody, your face set in a determined scowl. The receptionist's cheerful "Hello!" went unanswered as you beelined for the locker room. You changed quickly, the routine motions doing little to quell the turmoil within you.

Once you were in your workout gear, instead of heading to the yoga studio, you decided to channel your frustration into something more physically demanding: boxing. Boxing had always been your go-to for releasing pent-up emotions when yoga didn't suffice, a skill honed through years of training and personal discipline even if your fitness focus had shifted over the years. It was an outlet where you could unleash your energy and focus on the rhythmic cadence of punches.

It was particularly frustrating that you couldn’t fit one of Jimin’s classes into your schedule. Jimin had seen you box once or twice before, and you preferred not to do it with so many people around. It didn’t quite fit the image of the calm yoga instructor you portrayed to your students. Luckily, the gym’s boxing area was today less crowded, providing a sanctuary where you could let loose and regain your balance.

Making your way to the punching bag, it stood as a familiar and comforting presence in the dimly lit corner of the gym. With practiced precision, you wrapped your hands, the ritual grounding you in purpose. Each loop around your wrists was a reminder of discipline and control, a prelude to the cathartic release that awaited.

As you stepped closer to the bag, you took a deep breath. The rhythmic thud of your fists against the heavy bag echoed in the quiet space, filling the air with a steady beat that matched the intensity of your emotions.

With each strike, you felt the tension in your muscles melt away, replaced by a surge of adrenaline and clarity. The physical exertion demanded your full attention, drawing your focus away from the frustrations of your day and into the present moment. Jab, cross, hook—each movement was deliberate, a calculated release of energy that brought a sense of satisfaction.

The combined stress of everything—the missed connections, the demanding job, the personal struggles—felt like too much. You began with some shadow boxing, your movements sharp and precise. Each punch and jab was thrown with the intent of expelling the negative energy inside you. The familiar rhythm of boxing, the controlled breathing, and the power behind each hit helped you focus and calm your mind.

As you transitioned to the heavy bag, your strikes became more forceful. The sound of your fists hitting the bag echoed through the gym, a physical manifestation of your inner turmoil. You lost yourself in the workout, each punch and combination a cathartic release. The rhythm of your fists against the bag was almost hypnotic, providing a temporary escape from your thoughts.

But the relief was short-lived. A few minutes into your session, the comments of the gym bros reached your ears. They were gathered nearby, their conversation loud and invasive. Their crude jokes and dismissive remarks about women in the gym were hard to ignore, especially today. Normally, you could brush it off, but today their words felt like daggers, turning your sucky day into an even worse one.

“Man, now the girl is even occupying the boxing space,” one of them laughed, not even trying to lower his voice. Another one added, “Yeah, why even bother? She should stick to yoga or something.”

The words stung, a reminder of the relentless misogyny you had to navigate more often than not. Anger bubbled up, mixing with your existing frustration. You threw another punch, harder this time, imagining the bag was the source of all your problems. Your form faltered, which just annoyed you even more.

Their laughter continued, a grating soundtrack to your workout. You tried to refocus, to let the rhythm of your punches drown out their voices, but the irritation was too persistent. The gym had always been your sanctuary, a place to clear your mind and channel your energy. But today, it felt tainted, the safe space violated by their insensitive banter.

One of them, a tall guy with a cocky grin, stepped closer, watching you with a smirk. “You’re wasting your time, sweetheart. Boxing isn’t for girls,” he said, his tone dripping with condescension.

His words hit harder than any punch, reigniting memories of every time you'd been underestimated or belittled. The rage simmered beneath your skin, threatening to boil over. You clenched your fists tighter, feeling the rough texture of the tape against your palms, a tangible reminder of your determination.

Ignoring them was becoming increasingly difficult. You could feel their eyes on you, scrutinizing your every move. Each punch you threw was an act of defiance, a statement that you belonged here just as much as they did. Yet, the weight of their judgment was heavy, pulling you down, sapping the energy you desperately needed to keep going.

You paused, trying to steady your breath, to calm the storm inside. You were one deep breath away from going over there and catching yourself a lawsuit. The intensity of your anger was palpable, your fists still clenched tightly. Just then, a familiar voice cut through the din, sharp and authoritative. “Hey, why don’t you guys shut up and mind your own business?" he said, his voice low and controlled but carrying an unmistakable edge. "If you have a problem with how the gym is organized, Park would be happy to hear about it. And if you have a problem with her, well, we can deal with that right now.”

It was Jungkook. He had walked in unnoticed, and now he stood between you and those assholes, his expression a mix of pure anger and annoyance. His skin was glistening with sweat, evidence of an intense workout, and his hair was slightly disheveled, clinging to his forehead in damp strands. His chest heaved slightly, as if he had rushed over mid-set, not caring to finish his exercise the moment he sensed trouble. The sight of him, fierce and protective, momentarily took your breath away.

His eyes were dark and intense, practically blazing with fury as he glared at the gym bros. The muscles in his jaw tightened, and his lips were pressed into a thin, hard line. Every part of his body language screamed readiness to defend and confront, creating an almost palpable aura of protectiveness around him. His usually calm demeanor was replaced by a formidable presence, one that demanded respect and silence.

As he took a step forward, the gym bros visibly shrank back. "Well?” Jungkook's broad shoulders squared off, making him appear even more imposing. His arms, still tense from his workout, were now crossed over his chest, showcasing the taut muscles beneath his skin. Each movement was deliberate, his stance unwavering, as if daring anyone to challenge him.

The gym bros exchanged uneasy glances, their earlier bravado quickly evaporating in the face of Jungkook’s challenge. Their murmurs turned into grumbles, and they reluctantly dispersed to another corner of the gym, casting furtive glances over their shoulders. None of them dared to meet Jungkook’s eyes again, the threat of confrontation still lingering in the air.

Jungkook watched them retreat, his stance not relaxing until they were a good distance away. Then, he turned to you, his eyes softening instantly, the anger melting away to reveal concern. “You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle now, a stark contrast to the intensity he had displayed moments before. The tension in the air eased slightly, and you felt a sense of relief wash over you.

You nodded, letting out a deep breath, the tension in your body slowly dissipating. The whirlwind of emotions you felt—anger, relief, gratitude—left you momentarily speechless. The sight of Jungkook, standing there like a protective barrier between you and those man-children, had both calmed and unsettled you in ways you couldn’t quite describe.

He seemed to understand, nodding in return. “Want some company?” he offered, his tone now light, as if trying to bring you back to a more normal, comfortable space.

You hesitated for a moment, the residual anger still simmering beneath the surface. But the idea of having someone like Jungkook by your side was too reassuring to pass up. Finally, you nodded. “Can you hold him steady?” you asked, gesturing to the punching bag.

Jungkook joined you at the punching bag, his lips curling into a small smile. “You sure you only mean this?” he teased lightly, gripping the bag firmly.

You managed a small smile in response. “For now,” you replied, your voice steadier than before.

With Jungkook holding the bag steady, you resumed your punches, each strike more controlled and precise than the last. His presence beside you grounded you, lending a sense of stability. As you unleashed your energy on the punching bag, the anger that had threatened to consume you began to dissipate, replaced by a renewed focus on your workout.

“Thanks for stepping in,” you said after a few minutes, your punches finding a rhythmic cadence. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

Jungkook shrugged nonchalantly, his grip on the bag firm and steady. “From the looks of it? Probably broken a nose or two.”

You chuckled at his remark, jabbing the bag once more. “So you were actually concerned about them and not me,” you teased, a playful smile spreading across your face.

His smile mirrored yours, bright and genuine. Seeing you relax and unwind brought him a sense of contentment. He shook his head playfully. “Hey, you know I’ve got your back, whether it’s punching bags or them.”

You continued to punch the bag, feeling the weight of the day’s frustrations gradually lifting with each powerful strike. Jungkook stood by your side throughout the session, steadying the bag and occasionally offering words of encouragement or lighthearted jokes. His unwavering support transformed what had started as a terrible day into a moment of resilience and determination.

After a while, both of you took a well-deserved break, settling onto the mats. Jungkook handed you a water bottle, and you gratefully took a long drink, feeling the coolness soothe your parched throat and ease the residual stress that had built up inside you. Despite the bustling atmosphere of the gym around you, there was a peaceful bubble of calm in your corner with Jungkook.

As the workout came to an end, exhaustion and relief washed over you in equal measure. The earlier incident now seemed like a distant memory, fading into insignificance in the glow of your friend's unwavering support. Jungkook released the bag and flashed you a thumbs-up. “Feeling better?”

“Much,” you replied sincerely, a genuine smile spreading across your face. The anger and frustration had ebbed away, replaced by a sense of calm. “Thanks for this, Jungkook. I really needed it.”

“Anytime,” he said warmly, wiping sweat from his brow with a towel slung over his shoulder. “And about those guys... don’t let them get to you.”

You nodded, feeling lighter. “Yeah, I know. Some days it’s harder to brush it off.”

“I get that,” Jungkook said softly, his eyes reflecting a deep understanding. “But I have to ask. Who taught you to throw a punch like that? It can't be Jimin. I never see you in his class.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, it wasn’t Jimin. My dad, actually. He taught me when I was a kid.”

“Your dad?” Jungkook looked impressed. “He must be pretty good.”

“He was,” you said, feeling a pang of nostalgia. “He used to be a boxer before he got injured. He wanted to make sure I could defend myself.” You made a mental note to call him later and tell him about the day's events.

“Smart man.” You hummed, as you both sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the hum of the gym around you providing a soothing background. It was nice to just be, without the weight of the day pressing down on you. Jungkook’s presence was calming, his steady demeanor a counterbalance to the chaos you had felt earlier. The silence between you was filled with unspoken understanding.

“You know,” he began, breaking the silence, “if you don’t have any classes today, would you want to grab a bite with me?” He smiled at you, his eyes warm and inviting.

“I’d like that,” you replied warmly, feeling a genuine smile spread across your face. “Where do you want to go?” You looked at him, appreciating the offer.

The thought of spending more time with Jungkook, away from the tension of the gym, was undeniably appealing, especially now that you realized your feelings for him were more than just friendship and gratitude. His presence had always been comforting and supportive, but today, seeing him stand up for you had stirred something deeper within you.

As Jungkook stood there, defending you with such unwavering determination, you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes flashed with intensity, how his voice held a protective edge that sent a thrill through you. The way he effortlessly commanded respect from those around him, yet showed such gentle concern for your well-being, made your heart skip a beat.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he returned your smile. There was a hint of amusement in his gaze, as if he had sensed your newfound admiration. “There’s this great place nearby that serves amazing Korean BBQ,” he suggested, his voice carrying a touch of enthusiasm. “It’s perfect for unwinding after a tough workout.”

“Sounds perfect,” you agreed eagerly, the prospect of spending more time with him outside of the gym lifting your spirits even higher. “But I think I need a shower first.”

Jungkook chuckled at your mock offended expression. “Oh, you definitely need to!” he teased, his tone playful. “Can’t have you stinking up the restaurant.”

“Rude!” you shot back with a laugh, playfully nudging him. “As if you’re one to talk!” Smiling and shoving his biceps teasingly, unable to budge his solid frame. Jungkook laughed in response, his eyes crinkling even more at the corners.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘stinky’. Let’s go,” he said, still chuckling, as he gently nudged you towards the showers.

Inside, the air felt crisp and refreshing, a stark contrast to the warmth you felt in Jungkook’s presence. The thought of spending the evening with him, enjoying good food and each other’s company, was enough to make your heart race with anticipation.

As you gathered your things and headed out of the gym together, a sense of contentment washed over you, warming you from within. The day had started off poorly, marred by the insensitive comments and frustrations, but it was ending on a high note. With Jungkook by your side, the world seemed a little brighter, and the challenges a little more manageable.

During the short walk to the nearby Korean BBQ restaurant, you found yourself stealing glances at Jungkook. His hair was slightly disheveled from the quick shower after the workout, strands falling over his forehead in a way that made him look effortlessly cool. His eyes, normally sharp with determination, softened whenever he looked at you, a small smile playing on his lips. Each detail about him seemed to imprint itself more vividly in your mind, as if you were seeing him in a new light.

The restaurant buzzed with activity as you settled into a cozy booth, the scent of grilled meats and spices mingling in the air. Jungkook’s easy conversation and genuine interest in you only deepened your feelings. He asked about your interests, your day, and listened attentively as you shared anecdotes and thoughts, his laughter blending with yours in perfect harmony.

As the evening wore on, you couldn’t help but notice the subtle gestures Jungkook made—the way his hand brushed yours accidentally, the playful teasing that brought out your laughter, the way his eyes seemed to linger just a moment longer on yours. Each interaction sent a flutter through your stomach, a mix of excitement and nervousness as you realized that your feelings for him had definitive grown beyond friendship.

The realization that you had developed a crush on Jungkook filled you with a heady mix of emotions. You wondered if he could sense the change in your demeanor, if he could tell that your heart skipped a beat whenever he smiled at you, whenever he leaned in closer to hear your words.

As the meal came to a close, Jungkook leaned in a little closer across the table, his voice warm and sincere. “I’m really glad we did this,” he said softly, his gaze locked with yours. “Spending time with you today... it’s been really great.”

His words echoed in your mind, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. You felt a rush of warmth spread through you, a confirmation of the connection you felt with him. In that moment, you realized just how much you valued Jungkook, how much you wanted to continue exploring these newfound feelings.

Before you could respond, Jungkook’s expression softened further, his eyes searching yours with a depth of emotion you hadn’t expected. “You know,” he began, his voice a little hesitant but filled with sincerity, “I... I really enjoy being around you. More than just as friends.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his admission, your own feelings suddenly laid bare. The tension between you melted away, replaced by a shared moment of vulnerability and honesty. You could feel the weight of his words, the unspoken question hanging in the air.

Before the silent could grow into something uncomfortable you replied “I feel the same way, Jungkook,” your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. “I’ve... I’ve liked you for a while now.”

A radiant smile spread across Jungkook’s face, genuine and filled with joy. It was a smile that spoke volumes, a silent acknowledgment of mutual feelings finally expressed. In that simple exchange, the air around you seemed to shimmer with newfound possibilities, the future unfolding with promise.

As the server cleared away the last of the dishes, you both stood up from the table, hands brushing lightly against each other. The evening had become infused with a sense of exhilaration, a shared excitement for what lay ahead.

Walking out of the restaurant together, the city lights casting a soft glow around you, Jungkook gently took your hand in his. His touch was warm and reassuring, sending a tingle of anticipation through you. With a gentle squeeze, he looked at you with a playful yet sincere gaze.

“Do you mind if I ask for one more thing?” Jungkook said softly, his voice carrying a hint of nervousness beneath his usual confidence.

You met his gaze, feeling your heart race with anticipation. “What is it?” you asked, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Jungkook took a small step closer, his gaze unwavering as it locked onto yours. “Can I... kiss you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, filled with hope and longing.

Your heart skipped a beat at his request, a rush of exhilaration coursing through you as you felt your own desire mirrored in Jungkook’s eyes. Without hesitation, you leaned in, closing the distance between you. His lips met yours in a tender kiss that started softly, a gentle exploration that quickly deepened into something more.

There was an immediate spark of electricity as your lips melded together, drawing you into a primal dance of passion. Jungkook’s touch was confident yet tender, his hand sliding into your hair with a gentle pull that brought you closer to him. The taste of his lips against yours was intoxicating, igniting a hunger that intensified with each passing moment.

As the kiss deepened, fueled by the growing intensity of your feelings, Jungkook’s lips moved with increasing fervor against yours. His kisses became more urgent, each one a silent plea for more, a testament to the depth of his desire. His hand found the small of your back, drawing you against his body, the heat between you heightening the sensation.

Your own hands instinctively roamed, finding their way to his shoulders, then to the back of his neck, pulling him closer in a passionate embrace. The connection between you intensified, tongues tangling in a dance that spoke volumes of unspoken longing.

In that moment, the world around you faded into obscurity, lost in the heat and intimacy of the kiss. All that mattered was the electrifying bond between your lips, the mingling of your breaths, and the sensation of Jungkook’s touch against your skin. Inhibitions melted away, leaving only the fire of desire burning fiercely between you.

As the kiss lingered, a rush of emotions swept through both of you—desire and affection. It was more than a physical act; it was a soulful exchange, a declaration of the newfound intimacy between you. When you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, you met Jungkook’s eyes, both of you silently acknowledging that this kiss had changed everything.

Hand in hand, you continued your walk down the bustling street, the world around you seeming brighter and more vibrant. It was as if the city itself was celebrating the intensity of your shared moment. This kiss had marked a new chapter in your relationship, one filled with promise, passion, and the boundless possibilities of love.

A/N: Please let me know if you liked the story. If you didn’t like the story, I would appreciate your feedback even more so I can work on improving my writing style. Thank you!

[catsoupki]

CHP. FOUR | WHAT RECONCILIATION REALLY MEANS (NSFW)

SUMMARY: Katsuki has settled into a routine-like dance with you ever since your debut as a hero. He takes care of you like harmonious clockwork, but as he peels layer after layer, he’s caught up with his own tantalising feelings when he finds your blood staining his hands. You teach him, slowly, of what it means to fall in love.

TAGS: pro hero au, fem reader, banter, hurt/comfort, smut (piv, unprotected, breeding, aftercare)

CHAPTER LENGTH: 3,990 | SERIES MASTERLIST | NEXT CHP.

The first few weeks of January don’t really seem real. You’ve claimed your spot as number three, pushing Shouto down a rank for the time being. You chuckle a bit, was it worth it? 

Your schedule is far from normal, your manager has forced you to be on rehabilitation leave, all of your patrols are being taken up by the sidekicks in your agency, and the only work you’re allowed to do is paperwork, records and organising. 

The first day that you came back was hectic. It was the sixth of January, villains caused more ruckus than usual, probably running high on those New Year’s Eve emotions. 

(But does that mean you can rob a bank too?)

On doctor’s orders, you are not to do any extreme sports and get any more major injuries in at least 2 months. It’s nice, sometimes, you're given a long-awaited breather, heroes who occupy the top 10 ranks know that they never really get a day off. Even when you’re on vacation, if that place needs a hero, you’re still a hero. 

Every day becomes softer, your morning jog is cut to a mile only, and you get to drop by the cafe near your agency for some breakfast before you head to the office. Your hand still instinctively reaches for the locker door that houses your hero suit after your morning showers, and you wince everytime.

Bakugou has been texting you less, maybe that's what the emptiness is. You check your phone more, you see dozens of texts and emails from companies, sponsors and coworkers, but the cavity eating away at your heart doesn’t stop. You’re waiting for something, maybe it’s Dynamight’s picture of the neighbourhood cat, maybe it’s the picture slyly taken of Red Riot helping an old lady cross the street– no more everyday tragedies. 

The Herald: Metal Gear’s Rise and Fall — Why Was the Quirk Ring Bust-In Such a Controversy?

By the second week of January, time starts passing by a little too fast. You still attend the physiotherapy lessons you’re assigned, you still complete the paperwork in your office, you’ve grown accustomed to eating out alone and not Katsuki’s meals too– it’s light work but everything feels so heavy. 

You don’t get a chance to slow down, you blink and sunrise becomes sunset, you rest your eyes and when you open them once more, you’re greeted with your bedroom ceiling and you're awake again. Every day you have something to do, and now it’s your opportunity to take a break for the night– January's group hangout is hosted at Eijirou’s.

You don’t think about anything on your way to his apartment, you don't remember whether you were standing or sitting during the subway ride, you don't remember the colour of the sky, it’s odd because you usually have such a good memory, you can remember Bakugou’s birthday, you can remember all the names of Mina’s cats, what happened?

You don’t notice until you’re about to knock on Kirishima’s door, you let the cold air bite down your throat, it stings, your sinuses hurt, but you don’t think you’d be able to hold yourself together otherwise. 

You don’t smile when Mina opens the door, she has this look in her eyes, like she knows something you don’t, maybe she’s doing you a favour by not saying it aloud, yet it somehow still feels a mockery. 

You don’t greet everyone in the room, they still return friendly and worried smiles, all except one. When you were just about to say ���Hey Bakugou’ he walks out the door, mumbling something about picking up the food, and when his shoulder brushes yours, he flinches like it hurts, and you try not to wince at the stab in your heart. 

You don’t participate in conversation much either, you don’t laugh as hard at the punchlines, everyone notices, even Katsuki, but no one says anything, too nice to point it out, and too tired to meddle with it. 

The movie continues playing, flashes of black and white occasionally breaking through the haze of your mind, dialogues are but a background noise that fails to distract you from your thoughts. You had looked forward to this, being around friends has always been soothing when you spiral too deep into your own head, but now that you and him aren’t talking, you think that maybe it wasn't your friends that had ever calmed you down to begin with, just him.

They all take turns trying to start a conversation, but the silent tension between you and Katsuki has also dwindled everyone’s mood, you feel sorry, you don't know how they put up with you two sometimes. 

Time starts passing by in a blur again, you’re watching a movie on the couch, you’re eating takeout, you're drinking beer, you're putting on your shoes, Mina is talking about something, Bakugou doesn't ask you to stay with him, Bakugou doesn't look at you when you're turning around, Bakugou doesn't shout some reminder regarding safety when you begin to walk away, Bakugou– forget it. You're already on your way to the subway station, and the air is cold when his arms aren’t wrapped around your shoulders. 

“Can’t you just let it go?” Kirishima leans onto the balcony beside him, a beer in hand. He doesn’t look at him, after all, having been friends with him since they were mere teenagers has given him instincts, he knows that by looking at him Bakugou will only be more shameful, so he does him a favour and looks at the sea instead. 

“This is for her own good.”

@alpha-deku: MG is.. falling off, i think if the quirk ring thing happened a year ago she would have done it smoothly without any hiccups at all, not being able to foresee the extension of quirks and to put yourself into danger so that other people around you have to pick up after you is.. kinda dumb for a top 4 hero lol you would assume that she would’ve had a plan B and not just fall out of the sky to take a bullet for somebody who was clearly more powerful in terms of skill compared to her 

“That fucking cunt..! Wha- who does he think he is? You can’t just drop in and out of my life just because I’m convenient, asshole…” You mumble, drunk, steps crossing haphazardly as you stomp the curb with anger. Your friends struggle to hold you up as you fling your arms around in vexation; some weeks of bottled emotions finally clawing at the edges of the jar, overdue. The blaring music from the clubs all around you and the filth that comes out of the mouths of low-lifes can’t be drowned out, why don't they have airpods for his voice? 

You look at the flesh of your thumb, fingers dancing over the bumpy patch of scar, it’s weird what grief does to people.

(What grief? For what?) 

Every scar has its own beginnings and endings; you got that scar after tripping over a rock while playing hide and seek with Katsuki as a child. When you landed on the rough asphalt with your palms open to break the fall, you had actually slid a few inches. 

Tears were left unspilled behind your glossy eyes, gaze landing on your bleeding thumb, lips plumping into a pout as you held in the sobs that were bouncing inside your skeleton. 

When Katsuki kneels in front of you, he’s as much of a gentleman as he is now, holding your arm tightly, inspecting your wound carefully, wiping your tears away, he brought you to his mother, where she immediately assumed the worst: ‘Katsuki! Did you do this? I raised you not to hurt girls! What’s wrong with you–’ your hiccups interrupted her, ‘I’m sorry Mrs. Bakugou, but it wasn’t him, I tripped myself, Katsuki helped me up.’ It was a miracle that she had understood you through your sniffles, but her expression immediately changes and she starts bandaging you up right away. 

You two stopped playing hide and seek after that, none of you realised that that accident would be your last time playing hide and seek until years later, when you’re reminiscing in your rooms late at night. 

The scar is ugly— the skin there is patchy, uneven, discoloured, the shape is rugged and asymmetric, its origin is as childish as it can be, but you love that scar. It’s weird when you find love in violence. 

(You love it because Katsuki showed you his treehouse afterwards to cheer you up, not even Izuku knows about that.)

That night, when you lay in bed with your run-down makeup washed off, when you have changed out of the revealing and uncomfortable fabrics and into an oversized hoodie that doesn’t belong to you, you wish someone was there to listen through your sniffles and wipe your tears away. 

Your lives have been so deeply intertwined that everything and anything he sees, he’s reminded of you. The neighbourhood stray cat you named Hummus, the hot potatoes sold on the side of the street by that old lady you love talking to, the bus stop advertisement campaign you did with the local animal shelter, he can never truly escape you, even when he’s making the active effort to. Maybe he never grew out of his own cowardice. 

You don’t make it to the February hangout. 

@shotoswife: #mg_overparty it’s so unfair that shes up a rank while shoto is pushed down to fourth??? What did she even do in the mission that the HPSC is selling as a GLORIOUS triumph, shoto literally saved 14 kids from that avalanche in hokkaido, why is that any less impressive compared to that absolute fiasco

The Spring Hero Gala is rolling around the corner, with one month remaining, your stylist has taken advantage of your still freed up schedule and sent you to nine different fittings over the span of a week. It gets tiresome, from taxis to studios to taxis to studios, from itchy and restricting fabrics back to your breathable and flowy hoodies, but it distracts you from the overt absence of Katuski in your life, so you welcome it with open arms. 

After some discussions, your stylist settles the deal with Balenciaga, and your dress for the Hero Gala in March is decided, a maroon silk dress that shapes your waist and chest, it’s flattering on you, the staff had said, you thank them with a humble smile.

(Unconvinced, much like how the internet would feel, you think.)

You return to hero work at a slow and steady pace, increasing the hours of patrols day by day, the abilities of the sidekick accompanying you slowly decrease week by week, and by the time March chases itself into your back, you’re once again a regular occupant on the ranks of the latest villain captures on the official HPSC website. 

Life is moving on, with or without Bakugou, with or without his lunches, with or without his good-mornings, you don’t want him to be your biggest what-if. 

Top 10 Most Scandalous Paparazzi Photos This Month: No.1 Metal Gear Seen Leaving a Gay Bar With a Man Draped Around Her Shoulders! view entire article 

Bakugou has been twisting and turning in his bed for the past hour. He’s always had a good sleep schedule, when his head hits the pillow, it’s lights out within five minutes. He’s not used to this, this unending cycle of thoughts spiralling in his head, he can’t seem to shut off his brain, is he really avoiding you for your own safety? Or his own cowardice– no. Not his own cowardice. Never his own cowardice. 

It’s been exactly three months since you got out of the hospital. Bakugou, like many, has thrown himself headfirst into heroics as a means to not think about you, not that it’s been of much success. Every day and every waking hour, he spends it thinking of you, your hair, your gentle but firm touch, your ringtone, your ‘did u eat yet’s. 

His manager has already chosen a suit for the upcoming Hero Gala, he didn’t have a say in it, he hasn't even glimpsed at what he’d be wearing that evening. These days he just spends them scrolling tabloids on his phone, the latest scandal regarding Metal Gear, recent paparazzi pictures of you. He spends them far away from you, yet still paying close attention to your life. And so unlike himself, he drowns in his own self-pity before his alarm blares him awake, signalling another exhausting day of hero work, filled with villainy and bloodshed. 

Bakugou recalls his teenage years, and even the years he spent in the Genius Office, he has never thought that he’d ever stop being friends with you, he remembers making a vow at the ripe age of 22, promising himself and his friends that he’d never tell you just how much he wanted to have you in his embrace if it could preserve the state of his friend group back then, harmonised and synchronised like it’s their job, but seemingly Bakugou has a knack for fucking things up, he never meant for this to happen, but maybe forever was a word meant for memories, not people.

2X51 Spring Hero Gala Name List: Missing Plus-Ones from Dynamight and Metal Gear? Catch Up On the Latest Hero Drama from THE EVENING STANDARD

When Dynamight first sets foot on the red carpet, he is greeted with a myriad of flashes and shouts. Paparazzi, fans and the like all vie for his attention, the stuffy March air makes his skin sticky, his scowl is in place when he fights his way across the room. He’s tipsy, he has made sure of it, he knows he won’t be able to deal with you in public, let alone sober. 

He used to be a lot of things, sometimes he was your questions and other times he was your answers, but right now he wants to be a comfort that doesn’t quite require either, but he thinks he might end up as your greatest I’ll-never-know. 

When he sees you arrive, his heart skips a beat. Did your stylist do this on purpose? It makes his palms sweatier than usual when he sees your dress, the same hue of red as his eyes, he thinks you look dashing, as you always do, he’s meticulous in the study of you, he’s skilled in reading your expressions, the slightest twitch of a brow and the smallest tick of your lips, maybe the cameras won’t be able to pick out the tired dread that sits on your face, but he knows your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, yet he still can’t look away.

“You look stunning.” He finally admits.

“Oh you're talking to me again?” He winces, he’s been ignoring you, he knows that, you know that, the entire friend group knows it, even the public is aware. He feels like a schoolboy with the way he pretends your existence doesn't matter, some hypocrite he is, he thinks, who was he to criticise your coping mechanisms when he avoided you to protect himself? 

He’s spent three whole months convincing himself that he’s cutting contact with you for your own good, that maybe without him in your life, maybe you’d lead a peaceful one, one without peril, but he knows now, he’s been avoiding you out of his own fear, he never grew out of own cowardice.

“I’m sorry I’m in love with you.” The way he looks at you conveys everything that you need to know, his eyes are filled with something you don’t see in Bakugou very often.

(Fear, fear of losing you, again.)

Your silence is uncanny. It makes him wonder what he’d do if you were to answer with a ‘I’m never talking to you again’, your lack of a response is perhaps more infuriating than that, but he doesn’t have anyone to blame but himself. If you were to block him and refuse to ever see him again, he’d feel sorry. If you were to move from the city and to somewhere else to avoid him– no, you won’t do that, he’s sure you won’t give up everything in your life right now for him, for pitiful him, but it does make him think how he’d do just about anything to see you again. He’s taken that right for granted so far, it never struck him as a privilege to be able to lay his eyes on you, but right now it’s all he’ll ask for, because your absence doesn’t get any quieter even when he conditions himself to it. 

You look beautiful, you look like the one thing he'd love to look at for the rest of his life. 

Somehow your smile is still blazing, like the sun. “Did you miss my rage?” 

(You always knew you’d put down your ego and everything else to talk to him again if he asked for you once more.)

@bkgpackets: i think metal gear has done a lot, i think she’s done enough, for musutafu and for our boi katsuki too, it’s time for them to reconcile, they've been through so much tgt, i'm sure they’ll be able to make amends within a few words spoken

“Let’s welcome our top five heroes this year, they have done plenty in guaranteeing the safety of our neighbourhoods, some have risked their lives, some shared their blood, sweat and tears with us, for the sake of our livelihood. So let’s give them a round of applause, a standing ovation, for their courage and dedication towards protecting our reformed society. Welcome to the bright stage, Tsukuyomi, Shouto, Metal Gear, Dynamight, and Deku!”

Your ears are filled with a sore ringing, eyes blinded by overwhelming blinks of flashlights as you’re greeted with a warm welcome back by the hero society, the most powerful and influential part of civilization standing up to clap for you while you accept your award. You don’t glance down, afraid to fall, you look up and into the cameras, head-on with determination in your gaze and kindness in your grin, you’re Metal Gear. 

+++

When you call your manager to tell her that you won’t be attending any after-parties, she merely agrees with a knowing chuckle, and tells you ‘good luck’. 

After the five-course meal, you’re stuffed when you see Katsuki’s text on your lock screen, meet me behind the hotel garden, it said. Your purse is fluffed with congratulation cards from your coworkers and acquaintances, you clutch onto it as the wind sweeps beneath your dress, heels clicking across the marble floor as you look around and ask star-struck workers where the garden is. It took some extra effort making sure that you stayed away from front doors and cameras, not wanting your meeting with Bakugou to be interrupted by the paparazzi or obsessive fans. 

His back is turned towards you when you push the door open. You know he knows you’re here. He looks up, like troubles are weighing heavy on his shoulders, you can’t help but want to walk up to him to massage them, to strip his layers and take away his worries. 

You take your time walking up to him, you look at the flowers that surround you two, the moon that gives light to his shadow, you let the wind mess up your hair before you are finally shoulder to shoulder with him. He sighs, and you smile.

“I never got you out of my head. I don’t want to either, but I already think about you every hour of every day. I think about how if I were smarter with my emotions, I’d be able to kiss you and love you right every second of the year, of my life. Give me one more chance and I won’t fuck it up. Please.”

You continue glancing down the city while he twists his head to look at you, but when you look back at him, he stutters on his breath, the way you look at him has never changed, through the thick and thin, it is all so gentle.

“I’ll– can I make it up to you? I’ll make this our first date, I’ll make up for the time I lost, so– eyebrows, will you go on a date with me?” He’s blushing, you realise, to your absolute delight. And when you say yes, Bakugou thanks the Gods for the first time in his life. 

He takes your hand as he leads you to his car in the parking lot, it’ll take some time to get used to these gestures of affection. 

(He’s learned his lessons, every second spent by your side is precious, and he’ll learn to appreciate and accept that fact.) 

He opens the car door for you before getting on himself. When he drives you back to his home, he gives you the aux; the windows are rolled down, the air isn’t as humid anymore, it’s cool and it slightly nips at the exposed skin under the jacket he offered you earlier in the night. The journey is smooth, with just a few cars on the road as the clock ticks past 3, he pulls into his driveway, a view you haven’t seen since the last hangout hosted here. 

He doesn’t let you undo your seatbelt, he insists on doing it for you before he gets out of the door and walks over to your side. His touch is soft when he laces his fingers between yours, he guides you to his door as if he’s bringing a valued gift home, like you don’t already know the ins and outs of this apartment with the hours you’ve spent here, you’re sure you can navigate it blindfolded. 

The click of the lock is loud in the quiet of his apartment. You still see your mug sitting lonely behind his cupboards. He takes your purse from you and sets it gently on the cabinet before bending down, with his calloused fingers, he takes off your heels carefully, as if they’re made out of glass and would shatter on impact. When he stands to his full height again, he’s one breath closer, you can count the scars that dust across his countenance this way, you’re shameless in the way you let your eyes meander over his face, the delicate skin that have seen so much tragedy, right at your fingertips, smooth but rugged at the edges of his blemishes, his stories. 

His hands snake around your waist and land on the small of your back, pulling you near, until not even a sheet of paper can separate the two of you, the way he looks at you– it makes you feel nervous, shy, and just like every other aspect in his life, he meets your eye with courage, dedication, to prove himself to you once again. 

It’s you who kisses him first. You go on your tippy toes, just reaching his lips in time that he scoops you tight and close, your hands begin to make their way up his nape and into his messy locks, ashy and for you, its scent familiar. His big and rough hands cloak their way under your thighs, picking you up effortlessly before setting you down on that corner of the kitchen island. 

His breaths taste like liquor and you’re addicted. His lips are soft, even, in a way that you know he takes good care of himself, but his kisses begin to get a bit more desperate. Teeth begin to clatter, he begins to nip, like the wind and like you’d get away otherwise, and maybe you will. The grip you have on his hair grows needier, like you’re begging. 

He picks you up, and a small noise escapes from your lips that he swallows greedily. He’s waited so long, been so patient for so long.

Katsuki decides that he’s been a gentleman long enough. He slowly walks towards his bedroom, pushing the door open with his hip before he puts you on the bed with as much tenderness a starving man could have. 

He doesn't hesitate in stripping you when he sees the same desire glinting in your eyes, the silk dress slips off like butter. Despite it being you two’s first time, you all but work together like a well-oiled machine, harmonised and synchronised. Somehow, he knows that your whine means you must want his shirt off as well. He’s generous in taking off his suit and dress pants, his belt leaves his waist with a clip before your hands take its place. You swear your mouth waters at his slim waistline, his eyes glimmer when he lays them on your breasts, spilling from behind your lingerie. 

“I’ve waited so long for you, my love,” He whispers with his nose tucked beneath your jaw, you shudder when he licks a long and teasing stripe up to your ear, your nails scratch his shoulders in tandem, a silent plea for him to do something. He hears your prayers and begins to make his way towards your clothed heat, you’re embarrassed as he looks at you directly when he kisses your clit. His fingers go up to your hips before sliding your panties off at a terrifically slow pace.

Bakugou thinks he’s in nirvana when he sees your wetness clinging to the fabric, his eyes are far rolled back into his skull, he suddenly thinks he’s a man dying of thirst. The way your core glistens under the soft moonlight shining through from his windows makes him weak in the knees, “Please, Kats, I don’t need prep, I just need you,” 

He smiles when he hears you before complying. Even in your haze, you can still clearly recognise the wet spot on his underwear, his boxers seem uncomfortably tight, but you’re not in a much better state, when his cologne drowns you in his bed, you think you’re in limbo. 

Katsuki’s body must be shaped by the Greek sculptors, you think. His abdominal muscles are nothing short of a breathtaking sight, he chuckles when he hears your sharp intake of breath. The way his fingers slip into your wet cunt earns you a place in hell, but you feel like you’re in heaven when you see him wrap his digits, coated with you, around his cock, pumping up and down until his pink tip is leaking and waiting. He’s out of breath before you even begin. 

“Fuck, baby, you ready? ‘Cause I can’t wait anymore,” Your nods are overzealous, but his chuckles are cut short when his tip slowly pushes past your hole and into your pussy, he’ll die happy now, he thinks, you’re nothing short of perfection. 

Your moans are sacrilegious when he sinks his entire length in, his arms are caging you in, and you’re forced to look at him, dazed and eyes lidded. It’s not long before he starts moving, and then your hands are gripping the sheets, he gets up close and personal, so he can listen to your moans right at his ear while he sucks a bruising hickey onto your neck, so that no doubt you’ll be his by the end of tonight. His pace is set fast, but it becomes erratic soon enough, “Kats–! Hnng, fuck! Baby I need you so bad, give it to me, oh god!” He grimaces once, his fingers intertwined with yours before bringing them above your head, “Don’t beg god for mercy, he won’t save you now, beg for me, scream my name instead baby,” he grins, swallowing all of your sobs of his name possessively. 

His hips snap towards yours faster and faster and you swear he's reached an undiscovered spot when he brings your legs atop his shoulders, his grunts grow in volume, he begs for you now, and you’ve never felt more powerful having Dynamight appeal for your love and mercy. “Oh, oh, love, you want me to fill you up? Pump you full with my cum, you want it, don’t you?” The grip he has on your hips is brutal and you’re sure they’ll leave a mark but you can’t be happier, you scream “Yes! Yes! Yes!” and by your third promise he’s already painting your warm walls white, he doesn’t stop for your sake, his fingers go around your clit in small but fast circles, and you’re quickly thrown over the cusp and left twitching as his cum is pushed into the deepest crevices in you before he collapses on top of you, panting, sweaty, and sweet. 

Your eyelids become heavy, threatening to close when he pulls you close to his chest, the familiar aroma of his nitroglycerin sweat mixed with his shower gels flooding your nostrils brings you comfort; you grip onto his pillow case, you’ll pretend to fall asleep, anything to keep your tears in, and dare they ever fall over your cheeks, you’ll face into the soft cushion and inhale what you can now call home. 

A leap of faith, they call it, a dive into the uncertainty of what Katsuki will bring to you.  

“Eyebrows? We need to take a shower,” He whispers while cradling your head in his calloused palms, voice soft and gentle, you don’t want to open your eyes, wishing they’ll remain shut for as long as he allows, “come on, we’ll sleep afterwards,” but with a promise that you two can spend the remainder of what is left until dawn together, when the two of you will have to suffer the violating scrutiny of the public eye once more, you follow him to the bathroom, to the edge of the Earth if he asks, because it won’t be everyday that you get to preserve this kind of unbreached privacy, the kind of seclusion spent with you tangled in his limbs and tucked beneath his sheets, safe and sound, away from the rest of the world. 

[mazuwii]

Zeke SFW Alphabet

Flying monke

Hey bestie, I see you like Mr Monke😏

No shame! No shame!😤 I am writing the chapters everyone has requested but I got asked to do a Zeke alphabet first so here it is

—A (Affection. How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

•Not very physically affectionate in public, he tends to give you stares that gives you the same warm feeling you get from being hugged tightly.

•When you crash into him for a hug, he's so shocked and confused, his heart is dancing at the feeling of your warm little body right against his, affectionately rubbing his back. Before he knows it, he's silently crying, holding your face to his chest so that you don't see.

•Zeke never knew hugs felt so nice and now whenever he's feeling down or whenever you both have nothing to do, he randomly opens his arms up and waits for you to run into them. If you take too long all he does is twitch his hands slightly, which is funny and cute.

•I can see him being way more affectionate in the nighttime, where you're sleeping on him and you mumble under your breath, he kisses your head and strokes your cheek, lovingly gazing at you.

—B (Bestfriend, how would he be like as a best friend, how would the friendship start?)

•Zeke would be the bestest friend ever, sure he isn't the most affectionate or upfront friend but he is incredibly reliable!

•Always defending you behind your back. He insults you but then compliments and uplifts you behind your back to other people. Basically your lawyer.

•I will never stop saying this, Zeke Jaegar is intelligent as fuck and hates small talk so his conversations are so delicious, so full of flavour. His intelligence turns you on so hard, he is so fun to talk to because A, he makes fair points and teaches you things, B, he has a good sense of humour, C, he genuinely listens. He wants your opinion and understands your point of view on the subject.

—C (Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

•Before getting into a relationship, he always thought hugs would be stiff and horrible, especially in bed but he discovered that he was wrong.

•When you were spooning him, he couldn't nearly think straight from the appreciation he felt. Your arm was so secure around his waist and your body was warm against him, it was a feeling that made him wish he was immortal and experience this FOREVER!

•He likes it when you bring yourself to him, automatically. He finds it cute and always compliments you when you do. It isn't a full-of-shit-flattery compliment, he means it.

•"Why- on this gruesome green earth, are you so cute?" He kisses your head as you nestle yourself on his chest. "Mind telling me? Hm?" He pecks your head again and tightens his arm around you.

•One thing he will die to protect is you, he wants to hide you away from all the horrors of the world and treasures you so much and one way to do it is to tightly hold you right against him, melting at the sound of your giggle.

—D (Domestic. Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

•Zeke wants to live in a cottage with you, secluded from other humans. All the serenity of it relaxes him, it's one thing he'd never stop thinking about.

•Sure he wants to settle down but he'd never want to have kids. He sees himself as a failure to all and can see his little ones hating his guts, having to hear them exclaim how much they hate their papa (even if it's just his imagination) terrifies him.

•He felt like everyone hated him, but you and his grandparents and Mr Ksaver. Children would be too much stress

•As for cooking and cleaning, I don't think he's good with cooking or cleaning. He doesn't really make a mess so it's okay that he isn't good at cleaning

•However he isn't bothered with cooking actual food, he'd always just have fruit or instant noodles when he's hungry. So you'd have to be a good cook because my mans has no motivation for that stuff

—F (Fiance(e) How would they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

•Like I said before, Zeke isn't good on relationships so if you both last more than a year and he realises you've helped him as a person and he has helped you, he secures it.

•But proposing would be difficult, he's shy, scared, worried you may laugh and blow him off.

•Eventually he gives in and asks, a heavyweight washing off his shoulders when you said yes, even getting butterflies when he realised you were crying.

—G (Gentle. How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

•His inner child is bruised, you can see a little boy in him anytime he smiles properly, it makes your heart shatter to know that he never experienced his childhood properly and is currently a little boy in an old man's body

•He is gentle, he tries so hard to be soft with you and touches you like you're made of glass. H o w e v e r, my man does not hold back when it comes to baseball.

•Zeke is so happy when he's playing baseball with you that he doesn't realise he may have thrown too hard and only realises it when you grunt at the impact it made with your collarbone, dropping everything and running to check on you.

—H (Hugs. Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

•He hesitates at first when your smaller body collides with his, he had let out a small yelp but couldn't help smiling when your arms get tighter in desperation.

•Slowly and gently, he'd embrace you back and smell your hair.

•Zeke's hugs are warm, secure and surprisingly cuddly. He's too shy to hug you first, you'd have to hug him first and he'd not hesitate anymore. Sometimes, when he's missed you so much, he'd hug so tight that your legs float off the floor, completely powerless in his embrace.

—I (I love you. How fast do they say the L-word)

•Zeke thinks a lot so admitting that he loves you would be an epiphany, even years into the relationship. He genuinely can't believe someone loves him and stayed with him.

•He'd say it with a kiss to your forehead, small freckles of tears glistening in his eyes when he stares longingly at you.

—J (Jealousy. How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous)

•Very jealous but he keeps it to himself. Especially when it comes to the opposite sex. He realises anytime a man talks to you and you smile around them, he can feel himself shrink. He's all dramatic in his head, wondering if he'd ever been enough for you or if you finally realised you deserved a better guy than him.

•All of those thoughts would disappear when you take his hand or talk to him with the tone you always use with him, a cheerful and appreciative one.

—K (What are his kisses like? Where does he like to kiss you? Where does he like to be kissed?)

•Zeke's kisses are hesitant and full of pauses. Sometimes you do most of the work, bringing him closer and all that while he's questioning if he deserves you.

•When Zeke tries to be affectionate, he likes to kiss your forehead, crown of your head, cheek, lips in private. It's reassuring and he loves his little lady more than anything. This small kiss passes on so much serotonin through your skull.

•Zeke doesn't have a specific preference but when you pepper his face with kisses it makes him so happy and fireworks go off in his tummy. With your hands gently cupping his face and your lips pressing every area on his face he softly holds onto you with a flustered smile.

—L (Little ones. How are they around children)

•Lol, he's like their older bro but a lil more distant

Let's move on...

—M (Morning. How are mornings spent with them?)

•Zeke's life is full of duties and priorities but he wishes with his full heart that he could spend the rest of his life lazily holding you with you peacefully laying by his side

•To his dismay, he must leave you to sleep. He has to get up earlier and doesn't bother waking up his sleeping angel, getting ready for work and leaving- not without kissing your cheek. Even if you're fast asleep, Zeke tucks you in and pecks your cheek, admiring you for a few seconds before heading on with his day.

•I'd say on good days, you make an effort to wake up with him and make breakfast so that he doesn't go to work and smoke ciggerates on an empty stomach. Fucking idiot, sorry but don't do that 🙄 even to my readers, don't smoke bestie💜

—N (Night. How are nights spent with them?)

•He does sleep at a reasonable time, sometimes at ten PM, sometimes at eight PM..

•Before bed he'd watch a documentary with you while having dinner and probably tire himself out by sucking in all that knowledge (the TV voice makes him sleepy, so you can see his eyelids drooping when he lies about how he isn't tired... it's cute)

•When it's time for bed he does the usual routine and gets into bed after smoking... which is pretty painful for you to watch but you won't scold him, you'll bring him closer to you and kiss his nose, massaging his scalp and becoming limp when his hand is soft at your waist, caressing patterns with his slender fingers until you fall asleep.

—O (Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

•Zeke thinks he is the scum of the Earth and wouldn't be surprised if you thought so too. It'd be difficult for him to mention any of his trauma so it all comes out through his humour.

•Daddy issues jokes, mommy issues jokes, self-deprecating jokes and you go through so many until you realise the man is traumatised. I can say with full confidence that he once tried making a joke for the millionth time and ended up crying instead of laughing. Of course, you were reassuring and comforted him in every way he needed.

—P (Patience. How easily angered are they?)

•Very patient when it comes to his S/O, he doesn't force anything out of you and slowly, gently speaks.

•Zeke doesn't become angry easily, honestly, he's so smart and open-minded that it becomes a problem because he understands so many things, unable to use his emotions to his advantage.

•Again, emotions pass and are useless to him, they just come and go so he doesn't like feeling too vividly. Especially anger, he thinks there's no use in it.

—Q (Quizzes. How much would they remember about you?  Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing or do they kind of forget everything?)

•Like I keep saying, Zeke is a smart, attentive person even when he doesn't mean to be. He pays attention to small details by accident and remembers subconsciously. He memorises a lot of your habits, bad and good and makes notes of when and where they mostly happen, adapting to your lifestyle without realising.

•Someone is asking what to get for your birthday and tries to get a type of chocolate flavour he remembers you despise and he gives away your full interests and a list of what you like, dumping an essay of your public info to one of your best friends and they're just like °_°...?

•It's cute, he just doesn't know his brain sucks everything about you in

—R (Remember. What is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

•When you took him out to dance and the music suddenly switched from formal dancing to just 'go crazy' and he watched you GO OFF. You were shaking your hip and hopping around energetically, glaring at him for laughing his ass off over the loud music.

•You forced him to dance with you, both of you whipping your hair back and forth, your movements less stiff but nonetheless, in sync. He's never had so much fun. No one he knew was there, it was all strangers but he felt like only you and he were there, dancing freely to the music, he'd just follow your lead confidently

—S (Security. How protective are they? How would they like to be protected?)

•Zeke is so protective, paranoid but never expressing it, knowing he'd sound insane:

-"Angel, I have to go out with you because what'll happen if you suddenly get run over?!"

-"No you can't use the phone while it's in charge, what if it explodes in your face?!"

-"Cookie dough, don't try handstanding, you could snap your neck!"

-"No, I won't let you go up these faulty escalators, they could suddenly break open and swallow you, here let me hold your hand up the normal stairs."

-"Don't lean against the balcony, you could fall over!"

•So instead he does it sneakily. Like small solutions, in order, he'd: offering to help you shop when you go out, making you put your phone down to massage him, scaring you into stopping your handstands, holding your waist securely when you're both on the balcony.

•To feel protected, Zeke needs constant reassurance from you. Physically and emotionally. A small kiss on his cheek and a little "Don't overthink, I'm here, let it all out, I'll listen to your thoughts."

—T (Try. How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

•I think Zeke is more of a private person but his dates can be fun too. For anniversaries, you'd both have turns. For his half of the day, it would be spent playing baseball, going to the arcade, taking you out to dinner and then he'd warmly hold your hands in his, asking you what you want to do now.

•His gifts are so thoughtful but he tries to be cool when he gives it to you, lips straight and eyes avoiding you like a shy schoolboy. He can't keep his cool since you have to attack his face with kisses🙄 Jees Y/n stop it, he totally doesn't go insane when you do that to him, totally isn't in love

—U (Ugly. What are some bad habits of theirs?)

•I'd say the damn smoking. Zeke chose an unhealthy coping mechanism and needs guidance out of it, so you do just that.

•Taking his cigarettes and helping him get the nicotine out of his body through skipping rope, taking him to the sauna and even massaging his scalp when he has a headache.

•If course it'd be such a shock to him when he realises how nice he feels after his addiction is over, it's amazing what getting rid of one bad habit can do to your life.

—V (Vanity. How concerned are they with their looks?)

•Zeke trimmed his beard shorter and did his hair when he realised he had seemed to be ageing faster but... for the sake of my selfishness this is a modern au

•Surprisingly, he actually has good skin, a nice beard and a good haircut. Zeke is beautiful.

•Only once, has he ever shaved fully and my guy looked 10 years younger and was lowkey getting cocky but he rathered the beard and let it grow out... not too long though

—W (Whole. Would they feel incomplete without you?)

•Zeke is like the moon, it's a bit dark but it's still useful, however, it needs the sun to give it a boost? So what I'm trying to say is you're the sun to him, life wouldn't feel the same now that you've made your mark

—X (Xtra. A random headcanon for them.)

•I don't care what you say, he can do the entire dance for boy with luv by BTS. He doesn't know why he knows it so well, he's only seen the dance rehearsal once (yes he memorizes pretty fast)

•extra but, by the way, Monke man can figure out a Rubix cube faster than a War breaking out in AOT so... haha very fast👁👁

—Y (Yuck. What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

•He doesn't like a controlling partner, not everything has to go your way babe, life is always going to steer you in a different direction and it sometimes is in a better direction than the one you had first intended.

•So there's that

—Z (Zzz. What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

•This is funny to me for some reason? But once he lets go of your cuddle, he subconsciously sprawls his body out, and he does it for the entire night even when you're on top of him, his clothes are somehow half-off. The pillows are everywhere, the blanket is under his heavy thighs so you're freezing on him :")

[katzkinder]

Little Drops of Water

Tetsu is his pride and joy.

It goes without saying, really, that his dear Eve is his greatest treasure in the world, and that the Item he has been given, one half of the set of four hairclips Tetsu used to keep his hair out of his face all throughout middle and highschool, are almost equally as dear to him as the boy himself. Long after Tetsu is gone, their shiny plastic, ocean blue, will last and Hugh will add them to his treasures. There they will remain alongside a young noble girl’s favored comb, a king and hero’s favorite embroidery (done by the steady and lovely hand of his wife), and… A peasant girl’s dress, carefully, lovingly preserved against the ravages of time, so delicate now that only the most trusted of his subclass are allowed to care for it.

Yes, Tetsu is his pride and joy, and yes, it goes without saying that Hugh holds him near and dear to his heart… But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t brag about him to whoever was fortunate enough to have to listen to him.

...Which is why the situation in front of him is so… Frustrating.

Now, call him a coward, call him a fool, call him a doddering old man… Perhaps he was all those things. But he was not so fool enough as to blindly praise working oneself into the ground, nor was he the type to give praise where it wasn’t due.

Tetsu was not the brightest.

He would admit this, albeit no longer to his Eve’s face. And while he would admit this, he would also much more readily sing Tetsu’s redeeming qualities. Tetsu was a hard worker. Tetsu was steadfast. Tetsu was loyal. Tetsu was a good listener.

Tetsu was all these things and more, but most of all, Tetsu was dedicated.

Which is how Hugh found himself acting as tutor, with his brilliant mind and sharp wit, while his dear Eve prepared for university entrance exams.

It was heartbreaking, though, how hard he worked. Not because Hugh believed he would fail, oh no, far from it. Tetsu might not have been the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was fastidious, and really, Hugh thought, the thing that held him back the most was his lack of confidence in his own abilities, to which Hugh proudly thought he had been quite instrumental in rectifying, if he did say so himself.

It was heartbreaking because… Sometimes, it felt as if the only one who believed Tetsu would succeed was Tetsu himself.

And Hugh, of course.

Now, don’t get him wrong. He didn’t believe Tetsu’s family meant to discourage their son. Far from it, they wanted nothing more than for Tetsu to succeed, and they supported him fully in his university career endeavors. Except, well, Tetsu had told him that he wanted to go to university for one very simple, but very heartfelt reason.

He wanted to save their inn.

The inn which… Tetsu’s own parents felt had no future.

But Tetsu and his iron will, of course, thought otherwise, and he refused to give up on the family business, the place he had grown up and loved and worked so very hard to help run, even as far back as before he and Hugh had met. It was charming. It was lovely. It made Hugh want to fight for him, more than ever before.

The inn was something that, even more than a contract with Hugh, Tetsu took Pride in.

So Hugh, in order to nurture that pride, in order to care for his Eve, would do everything in his power to teach Tetsu everything he needed to know to make that dream of his come true. To make their home, because that’s what it is, this place. This little inn is Hugh’s home now, too. It’s no grand castle, no stone walls or towers or awe inspiring, imposing structures, but he loves it all the same, loves the people who make it such a warm, wonderful place.

He wonders how he could have ever considered letting this place die.

Hugh knows the answer, of course. It’s because he was a coward, a fool, and a doddering old man.

He refuses to be that way any longer.

***

“Hugh. Are you tired?”

The Servamp of Pride exaggerates his yawn further, rubs at one of his eyes with a tiny fist, and mumbles that he is fine, he can keep going, let them continue the lesson. Tetsu frowns at him, adjusts the reading glasses he now needs (and he’s grown into such a handsome young man, Hugh thinks, barely able to keep the smile off his face to continue his ruse), and sets the heavy prep book aside.

“No, it’s late. What time is it?”

“Check your phone, my boy… It’s almost a quarter to eleven,” Hugh informs him, just as Tetsu makes a startled noise when he confirms as such with his own eyes.

“It really is that late… Hugh, that’s amazing. You never need to check a clock or anything.” He shakes his head, willing the distraction away. “Sorry. I should have kept a better eye on the time. Let’s stop for the night. I didn’t notice, but… I’m kind of tired, too.”

And just like that, Tetsu starts tidying his space, placing his glasses back in their case and his books back in his bag while Hugh goes to fetch their pajamas. His Eve pats his head when he returns, murmuring a quiet thanks while Hugh soaks up the attention in a way very few people who aren’t big brother are able to earn from him, and after that, it’s the rest of their bedtime routine as normal. Getting changed, brushing their teeth, rolling out the futon, and climbing in together, Hugh always forever tiny against Tetsu’s larger frame, forever his Eve’s favorite teddy bear.

It suits him just fine, and he chitters softly, contently, when he’s snuggled close, tucks his head up under Tetsu’s chin and inhales the scent of pine he finds there, that wafts from Tetsu himself and his futon each. It’s soothing. It’s home.

Hugh cannot allow himself to fall asleep yet, no matter how tempting it is.

He lies there, being held, being loved, and waits for Tetsu’s breaths to slow, waits for his arms to go slack, just a bit, because once Tetsu is asleep… His real work begins.

It’s easy to slip away. A bat in the night, easing the door to Tetsu’s room open and swooping out into the halls, a wandering pet no one will see in the dark and no one will hear, silent as the beat of his wings are. He pauses, only briefly, when passing by the front desk where the lovely spouse of Tetsu’s elder sister still diligently works, greeting Miyako with a swoop and a cheep. She smiles at him, bids him safe journey.

“I’ll leave the lamp on for you. Take care, Hugh~”

A charming young lady, and she treats Tetsu well. Hugh can’t say he disapproves of her, even if her family is one he could do without. Of course, he never says as much, neither to her face nor to Tetsu’s.

That would be rude.

...To All of Love, however, he will gladly complain.

***

Hugh does not return until hours later, when the moon has passed its highest point in the sky and is on its journey back down to the horizon, chased by creatures neither he nor humanity can see, and yet, if you had asked him once, he would proclaim for certain that they were there.

Now, though, science tells otherwise, and he mourns the loss of that mysticism of the past at the same time he celebrates the inventions of the future, because it is only through the inventions of the future that he is able to monitor what needs to be monitored, and complete the tasks that need to be completed.

Such as keeping up with the local subclass, not all of which are his.

It is… Exhausting work.

Tokyo is a large place, and even without the Melancholy vampires to look after, knock on wood that it stays that way, even without Lust subclass, godspeed to All of Love, the number of them in Tokyo is staggering. Most of them are his, yes, and he does not regret granting them new life, no, never, not one bit, but… Well. Some of them need more assistance than others, and between tending the inn alongside Tetsu, studying, and this, his schedule is just… Completely packed full.

He wouldn’t trade this mind numbing feeling for the world. Not after they worked so hard to achieve what is still, unfortunately, an unsteady peace, but it’s an unsteady peace that has allowed his siblings and his subclass to prosper. To be happy, and healthy, and it leaves him puffing out his chest, tired but proud. Tired but happy.

Hugh would do even more if it were asked of him, he thinks as he sits to start putting together more flashcards and mnemonics and memory games, pens and books and note cards spread out in front of him while he lies on his stomach and gets to work. He would do even more, do whatever he could, if only to secure Tetsu’s future even more surely than the rising of the sun.

Because Tetsu is his pride and joy.

And as his pride and joy… Hugh would make certain that his Eve could rest without a single ounce of guilt.

Sleep well, my dear. The future is yours.

[ladyartemesia]

Yooo your love story straight out seems like an e2l slow burn tumblr fic. Do you have any plans using at as a plot?? I would def read it 👀

I don’t know if I would truly call it enemies-to-lovers because—although I got irritated with him and his behavior and did snap at him from time to time—we were not really enemies. In fact we were barely friends for most of the years we knew each other—

Well.

Ok. So that’s not totally true...

We fought online constantly. From the time we graduated college (where his crush first developed and I routinely forgot his name) the two of us were always fighting on social media—usually about politics—and occasionally about other things but both of us were too smart to ever truly get the better of each other so there was a grudging respect, (his mom said he used to yell at his computer screen about me). We had it OUT several times online even though we rarely—if ever—spoke in person.

My poor sweet boy DID get himself in trouble over me in more ways than one though—even if we’re weren’t close yet...

His college girlfriend set him up to fail asked him who he would date if the two of them weren’t together and he answered immediately—vehemently—

“Viola. I would definitely date Viola if I could.”

🤦🏻‍♀️ (oh...honey...no)

(That would become a huge THING in their relationship. Every time they got into a fight his ex would shout “why don’t you just go date VIOLA then?!”—When he married me he said he felt like a real winner in that particular collection of conflicts. Playing the long game I guess 🤣😂)

Back then I was all about the music/dramatic arts scene and I was dating a string of empty headed pretty boys who bored me nigh unto death because I was young and completely stupid.

In contrast my someday-boo was painfully quiet and shy (though not really with me because he was too busy trying to prove me wrong), but everyone who met him or spoke to him really liked him and respected him.

After college we were were still in the same extended social circle (and—as previously mentioned—fighting online), but I went to grad school and my not-yet-husband decided to chill for awhile and take a job as a landscaper while he figured his life out and... here’s where it gets complicated because...

—that’s where the girls came in. You see... he’s always been a really nice guy... maybe a little too nice 🤦🏻‍♀️

The term fuqboi tends to conjure up impressions of a cocky frat bro who slyly shags his way through a mountain of willing women with disconnected efficiency and a subtext of emotional constipation.

But that would not be the case here.

You see my husband is a listener. He’s an INFP. He, unlike many of his brethren, understands emotions and can really make a woman feel seen. Combine that with his good looks, brilliant mind, and broody nerditude and you have a recipe for women who were ‘just friends’ randomly dropping to their knees (and a lot more) for him.

Never one to stand in the way of a lady’s dreams, pre-me-hubby figured that if they were that determined to (*insert miscellaneous sexy stuff here*) with him then—well—he’d let them.

I mean why not, right? No harm done.

Wrong. 🤬

And here is where our paths truly began to merge (in the real world) for the first time.

As the FOURTH girl (just in my friend group) he graciously allowed (🤦🏻‍♀️) to have her wicked way with him sobbed in my arms, I became determined to put this ridiculous man-child IN his PLACE—this time in the tactile world as well as the virtual one.

...Poor Liz

She realized that he had absolutely no desire whatsoever to be in a relationship with anything other than his WoW account and she was insistent that he had broken her heart.

So I cornered him and we had it out. (Call me meddlesome, but to be fair he was four friends deep at this point.)

The problem was that... the more I talked to him...the more he was not really what I expected... I found myself...oddly...intrigued?

Later it would come out that I was the first girl—ever—that he actually pursued. And I was not even aware of it for like the first three months.

He was pretty slick after all when it came down to it.

That man convinced me to ‘help him’ with women—to make sure he didn’t get himself into another situation where some girl with heart eyes was tearing off his clothes and expecting commitment.

HE ASKED ME TO BE HIS ‘EXCUSE.’

🤦🏻‍♀️(...I know. I’m an idiot.)

“We can hang out. You’ll teach me how to spot if a girl is about to catch feelings and take off my pants. And I will have an excuse when they call as to why we can’t hang out” (—and ...they really were always calling. It was wild.)

....I mean he WAS shy! It SEEMED plausible!

So yeah my dim self agreed to it. (🤦🏻‍♀️)

I considered it a valiant attempt to save the rest of my social circle from the most clueless ‘accidental’ fuqboi on planet earth and maybe even an opportunity to teach him how to be a real human being and what not.

And before you think ‘fake dating’—we weren’t. We were just hanging out as friends. You see when I went to yell at him (and chased him down after he laughed at me and tried to escape) we ended up talking in his car for like four hours. And then that happened like three more times randomly so... I... actually... wanted... to be his friend... 🤷🏻‍♀️

I was still 110% not interested romantically.

Your girl (me) was after some bland banker dude (🤦🏻‍♀️) and so I blissfully fell into friendship with my actual soulmate without a single second thought. And I never worried about either of us catching feelings because I had a crush on someone else and he had heavily implied that I was not his type. (He told me later that I just assumed this and he simply never corrected me 🙄)

I don’t remember falling for him. I never decided to. I never thought about it...

But one day after the whole crew was hanging out at a restaurant (and the waiter kept giving me free drinks which may have pissed my once-and-future man off) the two of us went out to his car to have our customary three hour post-chill chat...

I was teasing him about something—some girl he was still attempting to untangle himself from—and I said—as had become my habit (seriously I said this so many times as a joke)—“It’s too bad I’m not your type—you could just tell her you have a girlfriend.”

(Now. I know what you’re thinking. But I was still firmly on team platonic ok! I was just a flirt. And maybe part of me was starting to feel weird things about him—but those feelings weren’t like anything I recognized so I thought I just needed to cut back on sugar or something.)

(Have I mentioned I’m an idiot?)

ANYWAYS he looked me right in the eye. So serious. And instead of saying “that’s too bad”—LIKE he ALWAYS did—he said—

“You...are my type, Viola... You’re exactly my type.”

To which I responded—“....What? No I’m not. You said I wasn’t.”

“Never said that. You assumed.”

“You LET me!”

—followed by a good ten minutes of me having an existential crisis/yelling at him for allowing me to believe he didn’t find me attractive and lulling me into a false sense of security. He was infuriatingly unapologetic.

At the end of it all he asked me to give him—give us—a chance.

And I agreed to go out on a few dates with him (mostly to prove to myself that there was nothing there).

(🤦🏻‍♀️)

The only thing I ended up proving was that I was wrong about what I wanted and even more wrong about what I needed.

You see...

Those weird feelings turned out to be love.

(🤦🏻‍♀️)

And it was a really special experience to sit in a room full of girls who had cried in my arms over him—girls I had lectured repeatedly on the dangers of his heartless ways— and admit that I was his girlfriend.

🤦🏻‍♀️

Love was—and continues to be—nothing like I expected and frankly I couldn’t be happier.

... to answer your questions

1. I have considered writing a fic based on our story called Broken Road. The title is taken from an old Rascal Flatts song that—as insanely cheesy as it is—really reminds me of us. Don’t know if I will actually write this. Thought about it a lot though.

2. Tags I would use for this story?

#enemies-to-lovers / #idiots-to-lovers / #college au / #outgoing!fem reader(me) x shy nerd!accidental fuqboi / #reader is also a huge nerd actually / #she’s just a loud one / #frenemies-to-lovers / #the love is requited / #they’re just idiots / #pining (his) / denial (mine) / #reader has terrible taste in men / #except for that last one / #she really redeemed herself there at the end

[sumsebien]

by design prologue // Prince Friedrich

series masterlist

summary: y/n and friedrich find out who exactly they are betrothed to

word count: 2,6k

warnings: bad parenting

a/n: this is the 5th time i have rewritten this how crazy and has been changed 3 times since i posted that sneak peak :)) i am nuts. also, i am running out of gifs so i am working on a collage i promise

When Friedrich Wilheim Ludwig was born, his father had asked his advisors to draw up a route. Friedrich would study in Prussia, marry a Prussian lady and ascend to the throne as a true son of this great nation, like all of his predecessors.

What he did not plan, however, was that his wife, Frederica had no intention of continuing that tradition. Frederica had other plans for her son. She wanted Friedrich to be the man he wanted to be, not the prince or the king that his father wanted him to be.

She did everything in her power to teach her son just that. Before anything, he was a human being first. Not his title, not the heir, a person.

The King, had he stayed at home for more than a day, would have seen that Friedrich was shaping into a different man than his father had envisioned. He was independent, easygoing and humble.

When the King did realize it, it was too late. It was the summer before Friedrich was to enter a prestigious Prussian university. His aunt Charlotte came to visit with an invitation for his son to study at Cambridge. The King laughed, there was no way his son wanted to go there. Then the next morning, Friedrich had gotten everything ready to go, he was dead set on Cambridge.

There was nothing more the King could do.

The next thing he knew, his son wanted an English wife. It was a complete disaster. And it was all his incompetent wife’s fault. “Let him live on his own. Get all the reckless impulses out,” she said. Stupid women.

“My love, whatever is bothering you.”

The King looked over to his side, meeting the eyes of his mistress. Sweet Bernadine. She was the only thing he looked forward to all day. “Friedrich. He’s not accepting any of the women he was supposed to marry.”

“And why, may I ask?”

“Because they are not his type. Nice sensible Prussian girls. What is wrong with him? He asked me for a deal. Ridiculous!”

“Maybe you should agree.”

“That is the most absurd thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Is it?”

What the King was going to find out was that Bernadine had a sister who became a Duchess in England. And she had all the gossip sources in the world. She knew absolutely everything about the ins and outs of the ton and she had a beautiful daughter, unwed.

The English girl his son had been eyeing was already in love with someone else. And Friedrich did not seem like the type to force her into a marriage against her will.

If he took his son up on that deal, he’d win.

...

One can count on many things in life. For the ton, it is that grief will not put a stop to Lady Trowbridge’s annual balls. The recently widowed lady’s celebration seemed to be even more flamboyant than when her dear husband was still alive.

And even more scandalous.

Last night, the Incomparable of the season was seen changing her horses in midstream.

To refresh your memory, dear readers, Miss Bridgerton caught the eye of the Duke of Hastings at the beginning of the season. However, for reasons unknown, the Duke was hesitant in asking for her hand, letting Miss Bridgerton slip from his grasp into the hands of a Prince. Our most promising Debutante was then seen exclusively with the Prince of Prussia-the royal suitor of our dreams at balls and promenades for the whole of last week. It would also appear that the Duke had moved on with Miss Y/N Y/L/N, daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Clarence and heiress to their lush family fortunes.

There were talks today that both men might even take their final steps in securing a ring on their ladies’ fingers by the end of the night.

Miss Bridgerton did emerge from the Trowbridge estate engaged. But not to whom we thought she would. It was the Duke of Hastings that captured the heart and hand of the Diamond of the Season. Miss Y/L/N and Prince Friedrich were both left empty-handed.

This Author is seasoned enough to say she is not easily shocked by scandals nowadays. However, that is not to say the events that transpired last night didn’t raise her eyebrows.

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

...

“Your Highness. Pst. Your Highness!”

Friedrich sighed, turning over in hopes silence would return to him. He had just fallen asleep finally. It couldn’t possibly be morning already.

“Your Highness.”

The voice grew from a whisper to a normal speaking voice which was too loud for someone who was hoping for silence. He peaked open one eye and closed them again after he recognized the familiar face of his valet, Heinrich.

“Not now. I am sleeping.”

“Your Highness, it’s urgent.”

“It can wait until I wake up.”

There was a pause. “It’s your father, sir.”

Friedrich sighed. “Then it can definitely wait.”

Getting out of this bed would be to accept the truth. He should have known that his father would always get his way. But that was definitely for later. Right now, sleep.

Friedrich waited for the sound of footsteps and the click of the doors so that he could finally get the peace he was aching for. But it never came, which meant: ”Why are you still here, Heinrich?” he mumbled into the pillow.

No answers came.

Friedrich groaned and sat up.

Of course, Heinrich was still there. At the sight of the Prince finally giving in, Heinrich rushed to open the blinds but was stopped by the hand Friedrich raised. “If you want to wake me up and listen to what my father has to say, you’ll leave those curtains alone.”

“Very well, sir,” Heinrich nodded, folding his arms behind his back and cleared his voice. “Your betrothed is Lady Y/N Y/L/N, daughter of the Duke and Duchess of Clarence. Your father also asked that you confirm a couple of details for your wedding at Sanssouci Palace.”

“I am not getting married at Sanssouci.”

“Sir, I don’t think that’s wise.”

“Heinrich, I will not look at his smug face when he sees that he has won. I will get married here.”

“But you leave today.”

“Then I will marry before I leave.”

Heinrich had been his valet ever since he moved to England. At first, Friedrich thought Heinrich was spying on him and reporting all of his activities to his father. But after one incident which involved a very drunk Friedrich, a lost key, Friedrich trusted Heinrich with his life. They had even grown to become close friends.

“Very well, sir. I will get the carriages ready.”

Before Heinrich left, he placed a small stack of paper on the desk, telling Friedrich to read it. There were numerous types of documents, all on the Lady Y/N Y/L/N, his betrothed.

Friedrich flipped through as he continued on with his morning routine.

Highborn. Excessively rich. The typical lady of the ton. So far there was nothing that gave Friedrich a reason not to dread his future. Because there was probably nothing. He thought bitterly.

When Friedrich suggested the deal, he didn’t think he’d lose. If Friedrich found himself a wife by the end of the London season, he would get to marry her. If he did not however, his father would have every right to intervene.

How hard could it be to fall in love?

As it turned out, it was not. It was quite simple. He met her, spoke to her and knew. He loved her the moment she laughed ridiculously loudly at his compliment. Her hair, her eyes and of course her laugh which very much alarmed the Queen. She wished to have a large family, like he always wanted as a kid but never got. She was wonderful at conversations. She was perfect...well she would have been perfect, had she been in love with him.

Now, he had lost both the girl and control of his fate. He was now doomed to live the rest of his life with a choice made by his father. Someone who was definitely pretentious, incurious and worshipped titles-everything his father wanted in a wife. Friedrich knew his father would have done anything for his mother to be like that. He felt fortunate that she had never been and never would be one of those things.

Now he could only hope his future children were going to be half as lucky.

...

You were stirred from a dreamless night of sleep by the click of the doors. Truthfully, you hadn’t been sleeping that well these past few days, even the slightest of noises could wake you. You prompted yourself up on your elbows, seeing Olivia-your lady’s maid at the door. She peeked her head in, only coming in when she saw that you were awake.

“Do you have my Whistledown?” was the first thing you asked.

It had become your custom. Your mother wouldn’t let you read the words of that vile woman, lest you learn from the actions of those scandalous ladies. She always acted as though she was above gossip when the entire ton knew the centre of her existence was the scandalous tales told behind the curtains at Madame Delacroix’s fitting room.

Olivia handed you the papers and rushed to your dresser, digging for a dress. “You must be quick. They are asking for you in the drawing room. I told them I was coming to get you.”

You immediately jumped out of bed, knowing your father’s temper all too well. “They’re home again?”

Olivia nodded. “Another cook has been fired. I am scared I might be next.”

That was odd, to say the least. Everything around the house had been a little off lately. Normally, from the moment you woke up until afternoon tea was served, you had all the peace and quiet to yourself. Both of your parents usually left by this time, your father was with his business partners and your mother with Madame Delacroix and her gossip sources. A couple of household staff had also been sacked. It was probably because your father had been even more quick-tempered lately.

Or could the events of last night be the cause?

You knew they were disappointed when you came home without an offer from the Duke of Hastings. But the season hadn’t ended yet. There was still time to consider your other suitors. Besides, it was absolutely no surprise that his heart had belonged to Miss Bridgerton. The dances and the flowers he gave you were nothing more than politeness and perhaps to sooth the jealousy he felt seeing his love with another man. A Prince for that matter.

You got ready quickly, racing down the stairs. At the sound of your footsteps, your mother swung the door open and tugged on your wrist.

“Quickly!” she spat and gave Olivia a glare before closing the door in her face.

Your father sat with his eyes closed, barely breathing. He was completely still, almost statue-like.

“Darling,” your mother chirped, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder as if to send some life into him. He opened his eyes. Dull grey, stern and void of hope or happiness.

You knew this look. It had been the source for all of your childhood terror, the look of disappointment and ominous news.

“Get ready. You’re marrying the Prince of Prussia.”

You choked back a breath, feeling all of your blood draining from your face to your neck. You felt like you were burning but at the same time freezing cold. You couldn’t say anything. Not just because you were speechless. You were not allowed to. The only thing you could do was nod, say ‘yes, sir’ and do exactly as you were told.

You were their only daughter.

Throughout your childhood, your father made no attempts to hide his disappointment in you. And your mother was always too afraid to ever do anything. She couldn’t give him another child so they had to learn to tolerate you. They would rarely take you with them anywhere. It was as though you had never existed. You’d always feel proud after finishing a piano piece or after a painting was fully colored but they never cared. For a long time you thought that all parents acted this way, that it was normal. It wasn’t. Other parents took their children to the park, bought them puppies when they succeeded. For you, it was your job and you got no pay, no praise. Nothing. Ever.

You accepted that because there was no other way. And at some point along the way, you stopped looking for their approval. It didn’t mean that they stopped having control over you though. If you wanted a peaceful life, you had better obeyed.

...

Friedrich pulled on his gloves as they made their way quickly into the abbey.

He hated being late and he was late. They were running behind schedule too. Had Friedrich not squeezed a last minute wedding ceremony, he would have already left for Prussia by now.

Needless to say, there was no time for a traditional ceremony. They were getting in and out of the abbey in half an hour or else they would have to wait until tomorrow for another ship.

At the end of the aisle, Friedrich was greeted by his father’s old friend and his future father-in-law, the Duke of Clarence. The man was the picture of a typical aristocratic Englishman with his hair styled neatly, a cane in his hand. Next to him was the Duchess of Clarence, a lanky woman with hollowed cheeks and sunken eyes. There was an air of intimidation about them. Friedrich did not know enough to be afraid of them, though, he could imagine most of the ton were.

“Welcome, your Highness. It is a pleasure to see you again.” He bowed his head. “You’ve certainly grown since the last time I saw you at Sanssouci Palace.”

Friedrich only smiled. He did not remember ever meeting the man at all but did not mean to be impolite.

The Duchess spoke in a sweet voice, extending her arm towards the door. “Well, come, Y/N! We shouldn’t keep his Highness waiting for long.”

Friedrich felt his throat closing as his heart picked up its pace. It wasn’t the good kind of nervous butterflies one got from being near their beloved, it was anxious anticipation for his fate to be revealed.

From behind the archway came a beautiful young lady. He recognized you. You had briefly met before at the Salisbury ball before but never engaged in a dance.

“My Lady.” Friedrich bowed his head.

You were a little distracted, as if you did not hear him at all. He smiled, about to greet you again when the most bizzare thing happened.

Your father cleared his voice and flicked his cane against the skirt of your dress. That snapped you right out of your daze, your eyes lowered immediately as you bent your legs into a curtsy like a well-oiled machine. “Your Highness.”

Friedrich could not believe his eyes.

He turned to Heinrich to find his friend’s eyebrows tipped inwards. So it wasn’t just him who saw the strange way your father treated you. Like some kind of circus animal.

Friedrich nodded to you but kept a close eye on your father. The man smiled when he caught Friedrich staring. But there was something eerie about it. His mouth stretched into a smile but his eyes stayed stern.

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[downwiththemutantnjnjaturtles]

What a relationship with the Turtles is like: (SFW, Bayverse, fem reader)

Leo

• honestly he's such a gentleman

• he's all about being dignified and mature, so he treats you how he thinks a lady should be treated, and much more

• like any of them, he is protective of you, but knows you're trustworthy. He's not insecure about your relationship and seldom has any doubts of your devotion. Confidence is key; a skill he developed from years of being leader.

• he respects you so much. He makes you feel strong in your own ways and definitely brings out the best in you. On the flip side, you've made him realize that he needs to learn to be a bit more vulnerable when it's appropriate.

• treats you gingerly but doesn't let you become complacent. He won't try to budge your limits, but he'll slowly and surely encourage you toward them, eventually either breaking through or getting there. He worked subtly to coax you out of your comfort zone as your metaphorical shell when you first got together.

• also treats you gingerly, physically—he has refinement and self control, so he's not afraid of accidentally harming you as Mikey or Raph would. When he hugs you, it's always gentle and soft, and his muscular arms seem to hold you so well.

• sometimes you may see him as being stern with you, but it's always coming from a place of love and admiration. He wouldn't give you a challenge he didn't think you could handle.

• as you indulge in his activities and hobbies of his such as training, meditating, etc, he takes interest in your hobbies too. He'll set aside time to do things you love with you, but still keeps his routine.

• unfortunately is a little emotionally constipated; doesn't always express how he feels if he's unsure. But will come to you if he's really floundering and confide in you, and Splinter as well.

• really, he wants to see you grow as a person, and he wants to be the one to facilitate that. Perhaps he'll learn to be more open about his feelings with your help, too.

• you two sometimes bicker a bit about his lack of communication, because even though he's used to being mediator, relationships and new priorities (you and your wants and needs) are a new thing, so he needs time to adjust to the new lifestyle.

• no matter what though he can't imagine life without you now that he has you in it.

• he makes it out to you like he's sure that he'll always be there to defend you, but secretly thinks about situations where he wouldn't be quite often. He didn't voice his concern to you and instead masks his desire to teach you to fight to the best of your ability as just a way to get exercise and fit in, but it's more than just an activity to him; your ability to hold your own when it comes down to it is incredibly important to him.

Donnie

• Donnie needs to have someone he can be on the same wavelength with. Because so much of his time is consumed by his hobbies and activities, he loves for you to join him in his research and studies and occasionally to shadow him as he works on gadgets and such.

• is very attentive and is always keen to ask you questions. There's always something new to learn about a person, so although he loves it when you show interest in his things, he is keen on learning more about what makes you, you.

• a lot of late nights in his lab with him. He's a bit manic some nights about his research, so he stays up late, late into the night, sometimes becoming so distracted that he doesn't notice you falling asleep. He always silently kicks himself for letting himself get that consumed by his work and would gently pick you up, carrying you back to bed.

• the way he shows affection is by talking and getting to know you more. He's a major multitasker, so sometimes he'll have you sitting in his lap, him asking you things, all the while working on something.

• if it's important, he sometimes gets a little too distracted by his work. This has caused a couple of small squabbles, but it's imperative that you understand his devotion to his work as much as you.

• is also a sucker for sharing music, so he sets up playlists of his ever-changing list of favorite songs all the time.

• at times you get a bit confused at how little he'll talk about himself, because he'll just keep asking you questions about yourself rather than talk about his own stuff. As soon as you get that boat sailing, though, he can't shut up about his joys and interests, and his real self really shines through in those moments. He really is adorable when he gets into a topic he loves.

• can be a little insecure about your relationship at times; he's a bit of a worrywart so he has to be reminded by you that your relationship is amazing and he's perfect. He gives you a firm hug, resting his head on your shoulder and thanking you.

• he loves to just relax and be with you. He's the type that is completely content sitting on the bed talking for hours, or maybe even playing a game with you and Mikey. Board games are one of his leisurely pastimes on boring nights.

• is VERY worrisome of your safety. You have to reassure him constantly that you're not going anywhere anytime soon, and that he shouldn't stress himself out thinking about what-ifs. That's just part of who he is, though.

Mikey

• First of all, Mikey can be a LOT to handle. He's rambunctious, energetic, and honestly, a breath of fresh air from the other three's more or less reserved natures. (Save for Raph's outbursts.)

• Mikey always says what's on his mind whether it's appropriate or inappropriate. He tries to be communicative but sometimes his vocabulary or articulation fails him. It's still very cute, though.

• he REALLY absolutely adores sharing his hobbies with you. Video games, skateboarding, maybe pranking here and there—it excites him greatly to see you trying out his style, and it's hard not to appreciate his openness about his feelings.

• out of the four brothers he's definitely the most emotional, and here and there gets a little insecure if he misunderstands something he sees or something you say. He's not possessive of you, as he loves his brothers and is used to sharing his things, but he sometimes passingly wonders if you wanted one of them more than him.

• it doesn't take much to reassure him though, he's not inconsolable and will quickly move on from whatever was bothering him. He's always eager to resolve whatever's the matter, just not always sure how to.

• two words: eating. contests.

• overall, he's very playful and can be rowdy, which is a change of pace compared to the other 3 on a general basis. Again, except for Raph's outbursts; he's rowdy.

• loves trying out whatever you're obsessed with at the moment. New music? He's ready to listen to ALL of it with you. New hobby? You bet he's going to be there trying it out himself or cheering you on.

• he enjoys wrestling, tickling, and play-fighting, but forgets just how strong he is at times and gets too rough with you, causing a ruckus to break out, Leo or Donnie generally being the ones to call him out. It upsets him a lot to accidentally hurt you; he is unaware of his size compared to your own. He's not above begging for forgiveness.

• his immaturity shows itself in your relationship here and there which is a subject of annoyance on your end, but Mikey isn't too proud to admit what he did and so anything to make it alright with you. Usually either begins or ends with him clinging to you in a hug and getting emotional.

• he may be juvenile sometimes, but in a moment of crisis or when it matters, he's right by your side and ready to protect you. He might not look it, but he knows when it's time to be serious. He is still a skilled fighter, after all.

Raph

• Ohhh, head up—you two squabble fairly regularly. Most of the time due to his temperamental issues, him being overly possessive, things like that. You don't get into truly heated arguments, but he can be somewhat petty about it, which is a whole 'nother annoyance of its own.

• but he always apologizes to you, because he loves you and knows he cannot loss you. He's very prideful on the outside but on the inside uncertain of himself, uncertain of your relationship, and uncertain of the situation. He battles with accepting who he is and often wonders if you should even be with him.

• you bring out his secret soft side and make him more comfortable with it, although he won't show it in front of the others very much. He's very touchy-feely and likes to hold you, keep you close, etc.

• he enjoys cooking for you and with you.

• being in a relationship with him is tenacious but sometimes tentative, given how explosive he can be. But in daily life, he's a softie for you, and will participate in your hobbies and interests, even if they're girly or something he isn't exactly interested in. He just wants you to know that you can be yourself around him, because God knows he himself struggled with that at first.

• being in a relationship with Raph is passionate. He knows when to be a gentleman. He may not go overboard like Leo sometimes does, but he treats you like his princess. You're a gift to him.

• like Leo, he also likes to push you, albeit sometimes a too much. Such as, prompting you to lift a weight that's a little to heavy for you. Or accepting challenges for you that you aren't quite ready for. He's trying to show his respect for you and how much he thinks you can take, but he doesn't always know when too much is too much.

• gives you firm pep talks/hypes you up and gets mad when you put yourself down; it legitimately makes him angry when you say something self deprecating or cruel fo yourself. He'll grab ya by the shoulders and give you a shake while telling you how untrue it is.

• he's a gentle giant with you. Unlike Mikey, he's not unaware of his massive body and strength against you, so any movement against you is carefully monitored to make sure you aren't hurt by him.

• overcompensates by treating you like you're made of glass which can be slightly annoying but you still love him anyway because you're his princess, how else is he supposed to treat you??

• he would lay down his life for you in a heartbeat if he had to. (Although this implies that the others somehow wouldn't, he feels particularly strongly about it. He always thinks about how he's going to protect you when the time comes.)

[kneamet]

Thomas Sharpe loves her. She is pregnant and she is sewing baby clothes. Thomas watches her. She is scared of him since she found out about the killed wives and the death of Lucille (Thomas killed her in revenge for Edith's death). Thomas caresses reader's arms and she flinches. He tells her not to be afraid. She is his sun. His hope. His lovely lady. He won't hurt her.

Trigger Warning: obsession, yandere.

Word Count: 1667

Character: Thomas Sharpe/reader

Summary: You never wanted Thomas to watch you when you were doing your hobby.

POV Thomas

She was so beautiful. So perfect. Thomas smiled softly, a dreamy and gentle smile that reflected his joyful and eloquent thoughts about what would happen when his perfect and beautiful, sweet and charming wife finally gave birth to their child. Their happy and tender child, who will be caressed by the touch of his father; who will inherit his character, and later he will pass on his favorite business.

Thomas liked to dream about what would happen when you gave him an heir. An heir who would pay off all the debts of the Sharpe family and restore to fame that glorious and famous, if not infamous, family name that had been passed down from generation to generation for centuries.

He knew that he would learn it as a true aristocrat. He will be able to read, write, and, of course, continue his father's work, which he will teach him later when his son grows up. And you, as a real wife, devoted and faithful to him, will babysit him, cleaning up after him. No, he wasn't going to let his son grow up to be an idiot who didn't know anything and was just trying to sound like a smart person. No, he and you, after a light conference, will find the best teachers in the entire district.

Thomas won't let his son become like him. No, he'll be better than his father. A father who was a miserable loser who had achieved nothing in his life except... as much as he hated to think about it... nothing but incest with my sister. Into this perfect illusion, which later shattered, like paper that is easy to tear. He knew he was just playing a game in her incestuous ideals, and he knew he shouldn't have been tempted.

Sharpe pursed his lower lip, frowning slightly in a gesture of contempt. To think about it, to remember the days when Lucille, his sister, whom he both loved and hated, was alive. It is simply impossible to remember what he and his sister did to the innocent souls of the girls they corrupted and later killed. It was so disgusting.

But now, realizing that he had found his happiness, she was currently sitting next to him on a wooden chair and carrying under her heart another of his dreams and happiness, his child. Thomas was looking at you, wanting to stifle a small moan that suddenly, at the same moment, flew out of his mouth in an unintentional action, completely unexpected.

So gentle, so sensual, so fragrant, like a flower, that she lives her carefree life, enjoying freedom. A flower that will quickly perish in the wrong hands and near the Crimson Peak. He knew you always had to be protected. You, who needed his help, which was immediate and consistent. He will definitely protect you and will protect you for the rest of his life, even on his deathbed.

Your soft and light hair, which Thomas loved to caress, fell a short length over your frail and thin shoulders, on which there were marks in the form of inconspicuous bruises that almost healed. The man felt a great need to touch them now, but he understood that personal space should be respected and honored. To honor him in a way that was not respected. The memory of Lucille interrupting him raced through his mind in a haunting rhythm.

Your soft lips were slightly parted. So gentle, so brilliant, and so much in return. He noticed that your lips were bitten in some places, as if you were worried; Thomas frowned. He loved your lips, and he wanted them to be kept intact, not like this.

Your bright eyes were intently and diligently following the work you were doing, being in love with your business. Thomas knew that you liked to sew and never refused your desire, believing that if you love each other, have pure and pure feelings for each other, then you should understand and be interested in each other's interests. And of course, respect them. Unlike Lucille, who was only interested in her own fate, and not in the fate and life of Thomas.

He liked to watch you and how you sew. He knew that you liked this business very much, and selling clothes for children was also an expensive business, which, as far as Thomas knew, many girls were interested in. And you, as the man liked to say, had a talent.

The man blinked several times, feeling his beloved wife looking at him, in his opinion, with a gentle look, caring.

He never had enough care: his mother beat him up for any wrongdoing, his father was too fascinated by money to take care of the children, and his sister was too obsessed with, so to speak, him, controlling many aspects of life. He believed that he had done the right thing by her, and that she did not deserve a painful and hot death for having killed his past love.

Thomas had never loved anyone in his life. Except, perhaps, for Lucille, whom he hated at the same time. It was like a mold, like a contagion that ate away at him from the inside out, plunging him into a frenzy that immediately met him.

But then Edith came along. One of those girls who was able to interest him, but in the end it turned out that it was just an interest and he did not feel any love for her. All they could do was to save her and show her that he was a man worthy of happiness.

However, his dreams were not destined to come true then. Lucille took Edith away from him. She took his wife's life. Thomas, on the other hand, took his sister's life.

The loneliness always silenced him. It hurt to be alone. At such moments, his brain refused to work rationally, forcing only thoughts about the past. The past that Thomas had tried so hard to forget and lose in oblivion.

But then, quite by accident, he, a poor and unhappy man, had you! He didn't really remember your first meeting or how you met him, but he never cared. He was your first, and he will be your last.

***

POV Your

Being around him, while still keeping a straight face, not being distracted by him, and trying to go about your business, was scary and very stressful. He always scared you with his penetrating gaze that literally burned a hole in you, and so carefully watched your even the smallest movements.

Your husband was a handsome Englishman. An aristocrat whose beauty you once fell for, believing that beauty is equal to character. How the hell did you make a mistake? The look of an angel, and the thoughts of a devil.

And yet, despite everything, you still considered his beauty, finding him, if not terribly attractive, then simply attractive: blue, like a clear sea that flows into a dirty ocean, eyes with small flecks of gray; black curly hair that turned into curls at the ends; an aristocratic type of face that corresponded to his ancient family; tonic pursed lips.

But beauty was the only advantage he could offer you. His love, which you thought was eerily possessed and controlled, was terrible. You didn't like this love. You only wanted to bring back old Thomas, who loved you with a tender and pure love, not Thomas, who was obsessed with you.

You could feel his penetrating and appraising gaze on you. It was unpleasant and very stressful. You felt a little uneasy. Your chest began to swell, and your eyes began to water.

I wanted to cry. Cry with grief. That you will never go out again, that Thomas will continue to do what he does and you will not be able to dissuade him, that Thomas is so bloodthirsty that he was not afraid to kill his sister, that your child will never know about you and the real Thomas. He will always look at the world, and especially at you and Thomas, with unseeing eyes that will not cling to flaws. He will think that he has the perfect family.

Perhaps the arrival of a child will be the only plus in this routine. After all, he will love you, really love you, and not like Thomas. You gave a small, tired smile, thinking about what you would do when your baby was born.

Suddenly, you felt your hand free of the cloth that was now lying on the table, which was covered with a pile of junk that Thomas kept for some reason. Your hand felt the warm palm of your husband. His hand was strong and big. Apart from the fact that he was eerily thin, he was still strong.

You raised your head, shifting your frightened gaze to Thomas, who was looking at you with a very bleary look, his mouth slightly open, and smiling the little smile that always scared you. At such moments, you felt like you were sitting in front of a psycho who really wants to get even with you.

"You don't have to be afraid of me, my flower," he murmured softly, stroking your weak hand with light movements and looking straight into your eyes. You felt goose bumps on your back. You bit your lip, feeling a little relieved. "No need to bite your pretty lips, my sweet flower," Thomas said, reaching out and touching your lower lip.

"I don't..." you were about to say, when you suddenly felt the finger Thomas had placed on your lips.

"You're my sunshine," Thomas smiled, getting up from his chair, which sagged under his weight. "My hope," he leaned toward you, removing his finger. You felt his hot breath on your neck, making it gooseflesh. "My fair lady," he murmured softly, his lips almost touching yours. "I won't hurt you," he finished, connecting your lips with his in a soft touch.

[fandoms-writer]

Past and Present Pranks

Remus Lupin x Reader

This takes place during Order of the Pheonix, and Remus is still the DADA professor

Word count: 1.9k

You were in the middle of talking about your History lesson when the Ministry’s Charms teacher came in. Professor Flitwick was taking an off year for personal reasons, and the Ministry decided that they needed an inside woman. They decided on a human cotton candy, as you like to call her, but your husband said to stop because you might call her that to her face one day, and you honestly couldn’t care less.

You’ve heard about her coming around and interviewing teachers, so it was only a matter of time until she came to you. She decided, of course, to come interrupt in the middle of one of the most important lessons of the class. She didn't even bother knocking when she arrived, she just barged in, just like Snape, but a little less dramatic. 

You composed yourself before addressing the pink lady,”What can I help you with, Professor?”

“Oh don’t mind me, this is just a routine check for the ministry. Just continue with your lesson,” she said with her haunting laugh.You tried, oh you tried, but every other sentence, she would say a snide remark under her breath. Some you would catch, others you wouldn’t. After about 30 mins of keeping your cool, she decided that she’s seen enough.

“Thank you for your time, Professor Lupin,” she said with that evil smirk.

“Of course,” I said, sarcasm coming out automatically. Once the door closed, you let the eyeroll out that has been there since she walked in. Thankfully, you were close with the students you had now, so they knew how you got. You felt comfortable with them, and they felt comfortable around you. “Alright then! Where were we?”

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

The rest of the lesson passed by fairly quickly even though you were still in a mood, and before you knew it, you were walking down the corridor that led to your and Remus’ shared room. Once you walked in, you saw him sitting on the couch reading, like usual. Once you closed the door, you dropped your bag, and flopped on top of him on the couch.

“Hello to you too,” he said with a chuckle, and you responded with a groan and nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck. “That bad, huh?”

You finally looked at him, and kissed him before you started your rant. “She’s absolutely terrible Remus. She walked in, in the middle of my lesson saying that I wouldn’t even notice her, but every time I spoke, she would mumble something. She thinks that she is above everyone because she’s from The Ministry. You know, I wouldn’t even mind going to Azkaban if it meant saving the students and staff from her tyranny. At least you didn’t have to deal with her yet.”

“Actually-”

“-Wait! When? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I would if you’d let me finish,” he said while giving you a pointed look.

“Okay, okay, continue,” you said while staring at him intently to which he just shook his head and laughed. You rested your chin on his chest while his hands were on your hips, his thumbs stroking them softly. 

“She came in during my last lesson of the day. Everything was fine, until after her being there for 5 minutes, and then she decided to bring up my lycanthropy. She asked about the events from 2 years ago, and if it was safe for a werewolf to be a teacher.” You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could, he put up a finger over your mouth. “I know what you’re going to say, but let me finish before you do anything rash.”

“I was completely honest and open with her since I don’t have anything to hide, including the potion that I take. She even asked the students how safe they felt about a werewolf teaching them. Some answered, and a lot of them just glared at her. She apparently wasn’t expecting that answer because she immediately left. So, I dealt with it, and now there is nothing more to do,” he finished.

“Nothing more to do! I’m going to kill her,” you said while getting off of your husband, and making your way to the door. “That was inappropriate, and unprofessional of her to bring that up in front of the kids,” you continued, but before you grabbed the handle, a pair of arms dragged you back to the couch and enclosed you. “What are you doing?”

“I’m saving you from being fired, my dear,” he said matter of factly. “Now, it’s late, we have lessons in the morning, and we both had stressful days, so I think,” he said while carrying you over to your bed,”that we should go to bed.”

“But Rem-”

“-No buts. It’s over, there’s nothing more you can do,” he said while throwing you one of his jumpers that looked like a dress on you. 

“Alright, fine,” you said while curling up under the covers. ‘It’s definitely not over’ you thought to yourself.

After the ‘Goodnights’ and ‘I love yous’ you lied awake, unable to sleep. While listening to your husband's soft snoring in one ear, and his steady heartbeat in the other, you thought about how to show her to not to mess with your family, without getting caught. After about 30 more minutes of thinking, you figured out the perfect plan, and all you had to do was wake up early.

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

That morning, you got up carefully to not wake the sleeping man beside you. You knew how tough sleep could be for him at times, besides, he looked so peaceful. You got ready for the day, and made your way to the woman of the hours chambers. The castle was quiet except for the sound of the wind flowing throughout the halls since it was pretty early, and no one would be up for another hour. You made it to the chambers, recited the spell, and got out in under 5 minutes. In order for the spell to work on time, you have to say it an hour before. Instead of going back to your room, you walked the halls of the castle, and when it was time for breakfast, you made your way to the hall. When you got there, Remus was already there. 

“Goodmorning love,” you said while kissing his cheek and sitting in the chair next to him.

“Hello darling. You were up early.” he said with a tone of a question.

“Yeah. I had to finalize my lesson for today,” you replied while starting to eat.He didn’t question it any more, just nodded and started eating also. The hall was quiet except for the normal chatter, but that was about to change in 5...4...3...2...1.

The doors of the Great Hall flew open, and there stood a very angry professor. It was quiet for a minute, and then slowly, the hall broke out into laughter, including the teachers. 

“You all think this is funny,” she said while pointing to her hot pink hair. No one answered, only laughed even harder. “Which one of you did this?” she asked while looking around the room. You could feel 2 sets of eyes on you, and you knew who they were. Minnie and your husband. You had to hide the smirk that was trying to show itself. She eventually gave up and stormed out. 10 minutes passed, and it was time for the teachers to head to their classrooms. 

You kissed your husband with a quick ‘see you later’ and walked out of the hall.You didn’t get very far until someone called your name. You let them catch up to you. 

”What can I do for you Minnie?” you asked while continuing your walk.

“Still with that name,” she said while shaking her head with a soft smile. “You know, that prank looked very familiar.”

“DId it now? Interesting,” you said feigning innocence.

“It looked very similar to the one that was played on me during your 6th year.”

“Hmm, that is very interesting. The only ones that would know about it would be Remus, Severus, me, and you.”

“Did you at least dispose of the evidence?” she asked with a knowing look.

“Of course I did. I am a professional prankster.”

“What did she do, other than the obvious,” she asked with a serious tone.

“Short story, she decided to berate my husband in front of his class,” you said straight forward. And she nodded.

“Alright, and just between us, well played,” she said while walking toward her class.

“Thank you,” you said with a bow.

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

During your lunch, you decided to grade papers instead of eating. 5 minutes in, there was a knock on your door.

“Come in,” you said while not even looking up. You didn’t need to, especially when the knocker kissed your head. 

“Hello love.”

“Hi,” you said while looking up at him, and gave him a kiss.

“I brought you lunch since you weren't there.”

“Thank you,” you said while moving papers so he could sit. 

After eating in silence for a couple of minutes, he spoke up. “Do you know anything about the prank pulled this morning?”

“No, I don't. Did they catch the culprit yet?”

“No, but doesn’t it seem familiar?” he asked, and you knew that he knew, but you wanted to keep the act going for a little while longer.

“I guess. I remember James doing something like that in our 6th year.”

“Y/n..?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Is that what you were doing this morning?”

“I already told you, I was finalizing my lessons,” you said while keeping your eyes down because you knew that if you looked into his, you would break.

“Y/n, darling, I know it was you, and if you don’t want to admit it, I guess you don’t need this sandwich.” he said while snatching the half eaten sandwich out of your hand.

“Remus John Lupin, if you don’t give me the sandwich I swear,” you said while reaching for it, but his height on you made it extremely difficult. “Remus, please,” you begged while exaggerating the ‘please.’

“I’ll gladly give you the sandwich when you admit it.”

You huffed, admitting defeat, “Fine! I did it! Now give me my sandwich.” You eagerly snatched the sandwich when he lowered it.

“Now was that so hard,” he said while smirking, and you just glared at him.

“In my defense, she deserved it. You should’ve also known that I wouldn’t let it go.”

“I did, I just wanted to make it difficult for you.”

“I should’ve chosen Sirius all those years ago,” you quipped while smirking at the man glaring at you. “I’m kidding love, I would’ve chosen Severus.” You were now crying from how much you were laughing. 

“If that’s how you feel, I’m going to get ready for my lesson,” he said while pouting and standing up.

“No! I was just kidding Rem. I love you,” you said while grabbing his arm preventing him from leaving, and hiding your face in his chest.

“And I love you, but I should go get ready,” he said, which earned a groan from you, and chuckled while kissing your hair. “I’ll see you later”

“Bye,” you said while kissing him. 

You spent the rest of the day in a good mood. Partially from your scheme from this morning, and partially from the amazing man that you get to call your husband.  

[ciggylungz]

Miss Ginger

Miss ginger

Blurb night- 2.5k

(request: can you plz do something about Harry being all soft with his kids?)

 -----

Harry had always been a family man. Ever since he was a little boy he dreamed of having his own family, couple of kids, a nice family home with a big back garden for the little ones to run around in and him and his wife to attempt to grow some fruits and veg and maybe a few sunflowers or daisies. Simple, modest, pure and quaint but most of all, happy.

The day Harry met Y/n he knew she was special. She had this aura that he wanted to wrap himself in like a blanket. A laugh as pretty as song birds in the morning, a heart of gold, quick wit and full of talent. He knew she was going to be his wife someday, and he swears the day she said yes when he got down on one knee his heart grew 3 times its size.

The pair planned their wedding to be an intimate, beautiful event and with the help of Harry’s lovely mother Anne and Y/n’s combined work they were able to pull it off. They had decided to invite their parents and siblings, their closest friends- which included Harry’s former bandmates who made sure to embarrass the newly wed man during their best man speech- and all of Harry’s god children as well as their parents.

Harry wasn’t shy about crying when he saw his bride walk down the isle towards him, her dress was a simple silk fitted gown with delicate trimming of lace. Y/n chose to wear the same pearl earrings her mother had worn at her own wedding and a diamond necklace Anne had gifted her for the occasion. He really couldn’t help the waterworks making their way down his face as he took in her beauty, he stayed weepy through the entirety of their vows a huge smile across his dimpled face when he finally lifted the vail over her head giving her the first kiss as a married couple. She was his, and he was hers and the pair couldn’t be more smitten for each other even as they stand where they are now nearly 4 years into their marriage.

Over the last 4 glorious, joyful years of being fully committed to each other, sharing a surname and living as a unite the pair had welcomed 2 beautiful children into the world. Alfie who was nearly 3, he was conceived only around 6 months into their marriage yet they couldn’t have been more elated to find out they were expecting. The second was their little girl Rosana that they affectionally called by her nickname ‘Rosie’ and she was now coming up on 10 months old, she was starting to become increasingly mobile already such a bubbly happy little girl who had her dad wrapped around her tiny chubby finger.

__

Harry was currently on a break, just finishing his first solo tour finally getting some downtime to be home with his family and he couldn’t be happier. He loved every part of fatherhood, he enjoyed getting up in the morning and starting the little ones routines. First Harry would go downstairs, putting a kettle on while taking some breastmilk y/n had pumped from the fridge to warm up, when both of those were taken care of he’d migrate back upstairs into his sons room where he’d usually find his little guy sitting up in his new big boy toddler bed playing with one of the various stuffed toys on his bed as he waited patiently to be gotten up. Harry adored the way his son would perk up when he walked in, opening the toddlers curtains to let the sunshine in giving him a nice morning cuddle before taking him to the bathroom to change out of his pullup into his new big boy underwear since y/n and Harry are finally reaching the tail end of potty training their first born. It had been a struggle, yet every time their little boy danced around with a sticker on his shirt for going on the potty it was worth every bed wetting incident, and all the terrible two’s tears that came with the teaching. After he had him changed, he tried his best to tame the boys hair. The little tyke inherited his fathers chocolate curls unlike his sister who wore a head full of ginger ringlets.

After all of the hygiene tasks were complete, he’d serve the boy his breakfast, steeping his wife and him a cup of tea using the remaining warm water to heat the breastmilk in for when Rosie decided to greet the day. Harry didn’t mind giving his girl a bottle feed so his wife could get a little extra sleep in the mornings, opting to nurse during the day and before bed pumping whatever’s left to hold Rosie over till her mother wakes up.

Unlike some people, when Harry heard the baby monitor start to go off with the cries Rosie gives when she first wakes up he smiles instead of groans. He didn’t get angry when his kids cried, he was actually good at reading the cry’s instead of getting frustrated which always helped calm it down quickly and his little girl would always have a little cry when she’d wake up and think she’s all alone.

As soon as her daddy opened her nursery door the little girl stood up in her cot, balancing herself by gripping the railing to get a good look at who was coming towards her. once the morning light was shining in from Harry opening her curtains the tears stopped and a sniffling nose and big gummy grin was shining on her face, a contagious smile at that.

“Good morning sunshine!” the man raised his voice a few octaves, a big grin on his face as he picked her up from her bed giving her a nice hug as he swayed back and forth. “Did yeh have a good sleep, miss ginger? You look very beautiful this morning my girl, always take your shirt off when yeh sleep don’t ya’ silly girl? I get it girlfriend, sometimes you gotta let it breathe babe. C’mon think it’s time for a nappy change and a bottle hmm?” the little girl giggled at her father, bouncing in his arms and babbling incoherently whilst her dad cleaned her up and got her ready for her morning feed.

Harry set the baby in her bouncer, putting the milk into her bottle checking the temperature on his wrist before giving it to the still topless baby. It was easier to just leave it off during the morning snack, she was a rather messy little girl since she always wanted to hold her own bottle now often letting it dribble onto her tummy as she removed the nipple from her mouth to babble at her father. She always had a lot to say, even if no one but her knew what she was on about, no one had created a baby talk translation app yet so until then her passionate rants wouldn’t be understood.

Alfie was at an age where he wanted to be independent more, he reminds everyone how he’s a big boy, whenever he puts his own dish in the washer or screws the top onto his sippy cup by himself. Both his parents found it absolutely adorable and humorous as well.

__

When Harry heard the pitter patter of his wife coming down the stairs around 45 minutes after he’d got the kids up, a soft smile etched itself onto his face. He swears every time he sees her, no matter what state she’s in he still finds her breathtakingly gorgeous. Angelic even. Even when he had pulled Alfie out of her as she pushed, he still found her beautiful. Nothing would ever change the love and attraction he felt for his wife.

“Mornin’ love, sleep well?” the man brought his wife into his arms, giving her a warm hug and a kiss on the crown of her head. “Mhm, thank you for gettin’ up with the kids so I could get a few extra minutes of rest. Love yeh h.” she stood on her toes to peck his lips, this far into a relationship and being parents a slightly morning breathy kiss didn’t bother them in the slightest. After you’ve changed some ungodly diapers, smells don’t affect you the same anymore.

“no problem, had an easy morning Alfie was good about brushing his teeth and me and Rosie had a nice cuddle. She woke up shirtless again, I’m starting to get her vibe think I might start just being half naked all the time.” Y/n chuckled at her husband, sipping her tea slowly before responding. “At least it was just her top this time, last week when I got her up she had taken everything off. Had to do an extra load of wash after that one. Silly little girl.”

The couple could fawn over their kids for an infinite amount of time, but a thud from the living room disrupted their banter. The two wore matching raised eyebrows while venturing into the room, being met with the sight of Rosie’s bottle tossed at the wall and the girl herself holding her feet up with her little hands in a split position while still strapped into her bouncer chair.

“Hey missy, throwing things isn’t nice. C’mon time to get dressed, can’t have nakey babies crawling in the garden can we? Neighbors might think we aren’t watchin’ after yeh well enough.” Her mother unstrapped her, bringing her to her chest to kiss her cheeks, her father deciding to chime in, “I think with that chubby tummy and those chunky thighs they’ll know our girl is more than taken care of.”

y/n bounced the baby in her arms, cooing at her and mocking Harry’s words with a baby voiced ‘is that true?! Rosie are you a chunky lady?’ which got them a chorus of baby laughs from the infant.

 Once y/n got both of her little ones changed as well as herself cleaned up and changed for the day, she took them back downstairs where their father was sitting on the couch glancing between his phone and the tv screen as he shoveled some cereal into his mouth.

Alfie made a b-line for his dad, excited to show him the outfit his mother had dressed him in for the day.

“Daddy! Daddy look! I got clothes on, mummy says I look handsome! Look I got turtles on my socks, daddy look!”  the little boy was over the moon about his clothes. Y/n had chosen some toddler size sweatpants, Alfies favorite t-shirt- a Gucci one Harry had got him which his wife thought was insane to dress a messy 3 year old in a 250 pound shirt, but their son loved it because his father wore the same brand- and some socks with little turtles as the print on them. It was going to be a pretty chill day at home so there was no need for fancy clothes.

“Oh my gosh! Bud you look very handsome, look at my dapper boy! Gimme five, big guy” Harry held his palm in the air, his son jumping to smack his much smaller one to his fathers, beaming from all the praise he’d gotten from his doting parents.

When Harry looked over at his wife holding his daughter his smile got even bigger. There stood his beautiful bride, clad in a pair of his black socks she liked to steal, some comfy adidas sweats and a t-shirt Harry had given her years ago. Her hair was in a sloppy bun, lips slightly shiny with some lip balm and only one earring in since Rosie had snatched the other stud from her right ear and tossed it somewhere Y/n too caught up in her children to even remember to take the second one out even after 2 weeks going by now.

His daughter was in a yellow polka dot onesie and her hair was in a little whale spout on the top of her head. His girl’s looked stunning in even the simplest of clothes, they were his angels and he adored them.

“And look at you girls! Little red head, you look dashing in that onesie! Red carpet ready my girl. And you miss yummy mummy, are stunning today. C’mere I want kisses from my ladies don’t be stingy.”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at her husband, even when she looked like she lived in a alley behind a gas station he still made a point to make her feel beautiful. Of course, she adored the way her husband talked to their baby girl too, they had a long talk while she was pregnant with her where Harry vowed to always build up their daughter from infancy till the day he died. No matter how old she is, what she was wearing, if she was covered in gunk from the sandbox or in her future prom dress, he promised to always let her know she was beautiful and loved. Harry never wanted his kids to feel any less than supported, validated and loved.

 It was around 1 in the afternoon when Rosie woke up from her first nap, nursing while Y/n and Harry sat together on the couch playing with Alfie and his blocks. The family had a quick bite to eat, hanging out just enjoying each other’s company. Y/n handed their daughter to Harry for him to burp her so she could refill Alfie’s sippy cup and grab both her and Harry some water.

After distributing the beverages she sat on the floor, playing with both her kids and holding Rosie up by her hands so she could dance around in her mothers grip. She loved to dance, she was always on the move crawling full speed everywhere and always squirming whenever she heard her fathers music.

Today the little girl had more in store for her parents, taking them both of them by surprise when she hoisted herself up to cruse holding onto the couch before looking right at her mother suddenly taking her first steps towards her.

Harry and Y/n both gasped, eyes wide and mouths showing huge grins while starting to cheer their baby on waving their hands and praising her whilst the baby took wobbly steps to her mom flopping into her chest before she was lifted in the air and spun around, excited cheers from the entire family as they celebrated her milestone.

“You’re walkin’ now Rosie! My big girl! Oh my gosh I’m so proud of you princess!”

Y/n tossed her into the air gently, catching her then setting her back on her feet letting her walk to her dad who was now in full blown celebration mode hands waving in the air while he cheered. His little girl toddled towards him, squealing as he scooped her up and kissed all over her face.

These were the moments he dreamed about his whole life, and he swears the dream didn’t even compare to the reality now. He’s never been happier.

[spices-and-cherries]

Being domestic with Benoit Blanc would include...

There’s not nearly enough content for this wonderful man and so here I am, making it myself. I hope you all enjoy!

Warnings: Fluff

- You! Have! Matching! Mugs! You had seen a nice mug set for couples and had asked Benoit if he’d be okay with it. He said yes! A few months later, he had come home from a trip and surprised you with a new set. He bought them as a souvenir and thought you’d like them. Now, you have four sets. If it weren’t for the fact that you don’t really need an exorbitant amount of mugs, you’d probably have more.

- He’s messy. Not in a bad or gross way, he just tends to be disorganized. He’s one of those people who know exactly where everything is even though the place looks like a train wreck. It’s for that exact reason that you don’t go into his office very often (unless it’s to bring him a snack).

- His closet, on the other hand, is very neat. It’s most because he doesn’t have much there to begin with. He just sticks with what he likes and only gets new clothes when he really needs to. That being said, he has one drawer from your dresser just for his ties. He usually picks them out based on his mood and he takes his time to choose the right one. Pro Tip: Get him one for the holidays or for his birthday. He’ll wear it for a week straight.

- He doesn’t tend to take cases that are out of the region. He likes being in the comfort of his home and you - it helps him think better than some hotel room. He always asks if he can talk his thoughts out loud and you almost always say yes. It didn’t take long for him to start bouncing ideas off of you.

- He loves helping you out with your job just as much as you helping him. He’ll listen to you with all of his attention when you feel you need to go through your presentation just one more time. He likes to learn and likes to hear your voice. It makes him feel better about him always talking about cases - he doesn’t want you to feel like he’s taking and not giving. Of course, you’ve never thought that because you love to hear him talk and to see him get excited.

- You’ve split the chores and do as much of it as possible on Saturday. The both of you try to make it as fun as possible with music playing or having jeopardy in the background (the winner gets a forehead kiss). There is no laundry machine in your apartment, so you have to go downstairs. Folding and hanging it when it’s done, while a bit tedious, is the best part. You get to rest a little and talk about the week or anything new that’s caught your interest.

- At some point, you get a cat. He has short hair and is a sand color. His name is Sleuth. You and Benoit took almost a week to find the perfect name. You take turns feeding him and taking care of the litterbox. Sleuth is pretty affectionate and will most definitely sit on you as you cuddle on the couch. You may or may not have a folder of Sleuth and Benoit napping together saved on your phone. When you need to take five at work, it’s usually the first thing you go to. They make you feel fuzzy inside.

- You really want to have at least one plant, but Benoit doesn’t have the attention span and you’ve always had bad luck with them. You settle on a nice arrangement of cacti instead. They sit along the windowsill in the living room.

- He always let you use the bathroom first. You never really understood it so one day you dragged him in with you so you could brush your teeth together. Now, it’s a daily routine. Maybe you’ll shave at the same time or do your make-up next to him. This is also how you got him into skincare. He has very delicate skin, but he always stuck with moisturizer. You offer some of your foam cleanser and he accepts out of curiosity. He ends up liking it, so you buy another bottle. He was very touched.

- After getting sleuth, he brushes the hair off his favorite coat every morning. You end up getting him a lint roller because it was getting a little ridiculous.

- You now have an affinity for cigars. He usually smokes them outside out of concern for your shared space - not to mention Sleuth. You find that the smell of cigar smoke and his aftershave becomes very comforting. Maybe at some point you’ll give it a try. Maybe you’ll even enjoy it or decide to save it for special occasions. If you are ever curious about cigars, he would be more than happy to tell you anything you want to know.

- Benoit is sober. He finds that alcohol can mess with his brain and he doesn’t like the feeling of not being in complete control of himself or having no awareness of what’s around him. He totally respects it if you do enjoy a glass of wine with dinner or relaxing with a can of beer. For fancy occasions, like an anniversary or a holiday dinner, he may have a glass of wine and actually enjoy it. While he doesn’t have a lot of experience with wine, he does like white over red because it’s not as bitter. Either way, he’s the most content with his cigars.

- Sometimes, when the both of you can afford to stay up late, you put on a movie. While he enjoys mysteries, he has a strong affinity for older comedies and musicals. They remind him of his childhood. Some of his favorites are My Fair Lady (1964), Harvey (1950), and anything Charlie Chaplin. He also enjoys more modern comedies, not just because of the humor, but because you were the one to recommend them. He makes sure that there’s always enough popcorn and blankets and enough space for Sleuth to join you. These little dates are some of your favorites.

- You’re not the biggest fan of shoes in the apartment - you like to keep them by the door. Benoit makes an effort to remember to take his off when he comes home.

- He likes hearing you sing, whether it’s while you work or washing the dishes. He’ll try to keep as quite as possible so you won’t stop. On the rare occasion that you spot him and continue singing (you usually clam up immediately), he’ll sing or hum along.

- He’s really good at listening. If you are crying, he’ll just hold you close to him, rubbing your back or kissing the top of your head. He’ll wait until you want to talk and always knows what to say or when to not say anything at all. It’s not often that he himself will cry. If something happened at work, he won’t talk much. It doesn’t happen a lot, but you can see the tells and will let him have his space. You might have to baby him a little to get him to eat because he will forget. When the two of you go to bed, he becomes the little spoon and will melt into your arms. You’ll rub his back and run your hand comfortingly through his hair.

- He’s not super into PDA, but loves cuddles. He likes to be the little spoon when you’re on the couch taking a nap. He loves having your hands running through his hair. If you two are sitting, you’ll be resting your head on his shoulder and your arms around his. In bed, unless he’s sad, he is the big spoon. He like feeling like he’s protecting you. He will make you wear socks if your toes are cold, but finds it amusing if they end up anywhere but your feet by morning.

- He radiates heat. You end up eating less pasta during summer because for some reason it makes him almost unbearably warm. It makes him sad that you are less willing to cuddle with him as a result. But in winter, it’s a whole other story. It’s the best time to cuddle because he’s almost like a weighted blanket. Hot cocoa, blankets, a movie and Benoit Blanc equal a wonderful winter weekend. It’s also the only time of the year that you demand he holds your hand when you find yourselves outside. At first, bless his heart, he thought it was because you kept forgetting your gloves (which was partly true) and kept reminding you to not forget them - he grabbed them himself at one point. If you just tell him you want to hold his hand, he’ll understand a lot quicker.

- He’s not very good in the kitchen. You try and teach him, but at this point, it’s a lost cause. He makes up for it by cleaning up the mess after. However, if you decide to do something super easy, you like to make him wear your ‘kiss the chef’ apron because it absolutely looks better on him than you.

Please feel free to send me requests or ideas! I really liked making this one, so I might do a Part 2... 

- Simpy

[mypersonmyg]

crash and learn | myg, kth, jjk

pairing: yoongi x reader ft. maggie x taehyung, dani x jeongguk

genre: fluff, college au, the misery chick au

rating: pg15

wc: 2.3k

warnings: swearing, not really edited

summary: you and yoongi just want some time alone OR maybe jeongguk and taehyung will finally stop crashing your dates

a/n: haha i bet you thought i forgot but i didn’t! its drabble week and i will be posting one every day this week (weekends debatable)...this one is a part of the misery chick universe but also you don’t have to read it to get it because...

this is for my FAVORITE CUTIE MAGGIE @kimtaehyunq​!!!! who asked me to write a cute tae and jeongguk request ft herself and yours truly <3 and i think its fun to have one universe with all the members being with one of my friends so,,,maybe more coming?,,,either way i might write another drabble or two to sort of bring this one full circle, maybe not this week but yeah

[drabble masterlist]

[the misery chick]

One date turned to two and two to three, needless to say that months later and Min Yoongi still finds room to swoon for the girl who thought him puffing smoke before the start of the period. The misery chick isn’t gone, but the words are forbidden within a radius of the two of you, more likened to prolonged stares and the occasional glares of those wondering about the developing development of your arms locked and stares stopping on your respective pupils dilated in the glare of the midday sun. 

Though those passersby who let Yoongi pass by for too long without a positive step in the direction of his natural charms hold their tongues, the boys that fill the round of the courtyard picnic don’t hesitate to gag into half eaten sandwiches and dribble the purple fizz from the cans perched at their lips. 

“This is a little excessive, no?” Taehyung, the least bothered of the present, pipes up. He slurps from a straw that traces the length of his arm, wrapping the sleeve of his half buttoned button up. No one dared ask about his latest purchase, Jeongguk who was slurping from his juice box even eyeing with envy the can perfectly placed atop a tuft of grass, feeding into the straw at Taehyung’s lips. “When you invited us on a picnic I was hoping for a little more ‘we time’ and a little less ‘you time’.”

“To be clear, we didn’t invite you.”

“I like to think it was an open invitation,” Jeongguk shrugs, falling back against the blanket spread beneath you. 

Yoongi kisses his teeth, his own position resting against your chest, the perfect avenue for the pass of a grape from your fingers to his lips. He’s too content to bother with the bothersome nature of his uninvited roommates, both found minutes before his departure scavenging the lunch he’d spent the better part of the morning putting together. It was only the delighted pitch of your giggles that stopped him from scolding the two and sending them on their way when they followed you out of the door. He even caught you sneaking a few extra snacks into the basket for the fiends. 

“The point is, I will not hesitate to press my face to Yoongi’s because this is supposed to be a date.” 

“Press your face? That’s fuckin’ weird can’t you just say kiss?” Taehyung snatches the grape from your hand midair, sending Yoongi a smug smirk when he pops it past his geometric lips humming along with the satisfactory burst of the skin against his tongue. 

“No, because it makes you uncomfortable.” You tut, quickly replacing the grape to remedy the pout pulling at Yoongi’s cheeks. “This’ll teach you two to stop crashing our dates!” 

Dates is, in fact, plural because the tag along of your spritely comrades has been less and less few and far over the course of just a few weeks. You aren’t blind to the odd trend, not missing the attachment of Jeongguk specifically with each expected visit. Only recently had Taehyung begun to fill the void at Jeongguk’s side, previously partnered with any member of the house available at the time. 

What you’ve failed to account for with every impromptu double date is Jeongguk’s wise up with each stand in. He began to worm his way with Hoseok, clear that Yoongi would never turn down his best friend and you would never turn down Jeongguk. He would then try his hand with each member of the house, the worst of them being Jimin who had them sent away without even a morsel of the pizza you and Yoongi planned on sharing that day. 

It was that evening that Yoongi stood barefoot in his doorway, scratching at his brows toeing the reason behind Jeongguk’s sudden interest in you to which Jeongguk sputtered and blushed Yoongi out of the door with the assurance that his interest in you still remained platonic despite your commonalities and attraction. 

Jeongguk would never disclose the reason for his sudden interest in the almost daily escapades of Yoongi and yourself for fear that the blush painting his cheeks would be due to the teases and pressures of his friends, much the way he heard his hyungs pressuring Yoongi just months ago. He reasons that the position served Yoongi well, his eyes often traveling to the trace of your hand against Yoongi’s and frequent pecks to his forehead, his cheeks, he averts when you ‘press face’.

He wouldn’t dare admit the lift of his heart when you utter a defeated ‘I’ll just call Maggie and Dani, we can all catch a movie or something’ or when you plan ahead, which you’ve been doing more often, and the two meet you at your destination. The assumption of his appearance for the consumption that is often his source of a meal was accurate at the start. Your weekly dinners increasingly put on hold in place of a date with Yoongi, a point that Jeongguk used to his advantage the first night he beat Yoongi to the front seat of his own car while you snickered on the passenger side and Yoongi grumbled his way to the rear. 

His tactic had been to spend more time with his friend busied by love’s intoxicating hold, but his routine was struck by the catch of his own wrist in the hold of the bug. It was subtle before all at once, just an insignificant flutter passed off as a change in the weather, allergies. It was the not so subtle jab of Hoseok’s elbow into Jeongguk’s ribs after a particularly festive frolic through the spring festival that hipped him to his blind intentions. 

“Dude, you’ve been eying Dani for like three weeks and I’m tired of going on dates with you.” Suffice to say that was the last time Hoseok was glued to his side and Jeongguk only hoped the few feet between him and Dani just ahead provided a gap gaping enough to save her ears from Hoseok’s assail. 

It was a constant trial and error leading up to the night just a week ago that conjured Taehyung in stride, far too dressed up for casual with a confident glint in his eye. 

“You made the right call, I don’t know why it took you so long to make it, but I’m here now. The doctor is in.” Taehyung surveyed the small span of the restaurant's front entrance that day, confident in his abilities to  nudge Jeongguk ever closer to the girl he’s been crazy about for the past few weeks. He found it endearing that the youngest was having a hard time, especially when he was often the target of straying gazes and the not-so-subtle flirtations of all shades. 

It didn’t take long for all involved to realize that the doctor inconveniently called in sick from the moment Yoongi showed up with three ladies en route, one familiar from a photo Jeongguk scrounged and the second filled with a familiarity not quite familiar to Taehyung. You were quick to introduce her as Maggie, and Taehyung couldn’t form a sentence coherent enough for the rest of the night. 

If it weren’t for the quickened explanation on the drive home, Jeongguk would’ve been a lot less forgiving about his botched date, but here they are two weeks later, both lovestruck idiots jumping with each sound of crumpled grass while you and Yoongi are none the wiser to their intent. 

“So, what are we doing tomorrow? Aside from watching you two be all lovey dovey.” 

“I don’t know,” Yoongi’s head tilts, eyes squinting in the face of the sun’s rays. “What are you two doing tomorrow? I personally plan on spending the day with my girlfriend, preferably alone at some point.” 

“Huh, well there’s this horror marathon at the drive-in tomorrow and I was thinking we could all go!” Taehyung nudges Jeongguk’s leg, the younger immediately onboard with the suggestion. 

“Yeah! We could even invite Maggie and Dani so we have someone to talk to when you two inevitably claim the backseat for making out or whatever.”

You eye the two, eyes as wide as fresh puppies and smiles spanning the length of their cheeks. You aren’t completely blind to the trend of the past few weeks, but you haven’t been keen enough an observer to call them out on it until now. You’ve joked with Yoongi in private about your impromptu triple dates, most of the time brushed off with the shift of his lips to your own, too exhausted to think about anything but the moment he finally has you to himself. 

You nudge him with your knee, catching his eye with the minute dip of your head and the draw of your brow. 

“Ya know, you guys could always just go yourselves. I could give you their numbers,” You don’t miss the exchanged glances and tinted cheeks, Jeongguk’s eyes averting to the opposite end of the grass, one hand lifting to tug at the lobe of his ear. “I know Maggie is really into horror and Dani will def tag along if you ask nicely.” 

“Oh...they’re your friends though, I don’t think they’d wanna hang with us.” Taehyung sputters, nearly knocking the can at his side. Yoongi scoffs, head lolling from its place on your thigh. 

“You’re kidding right? The way those two act around you is not exactly subtle.” 

“What do you mean?” Jeongguk’s body leans forward, pupils doubled in hopeful curiosity. 

“I guess you’ll just have to see for yourself.” Yoongi shrugs. 

“And there’s no time like the present!” Your hands flag at something beyond the scope of their heads, Jeongguk freezing on the spot, but Taehyung’s neck craning to capture the bodies bounding over and moments later plopping in the convenient spaces between. Maggie squishes herself between you and Jeongguk while Dani takes the spot beside Taehyung. 

A panic flashes in both of their eyes when they note the unmatched arrangement of bodies. There was no specification as to who Maggie or Dani harbor unspoken feelings for, or what kind of feelings they are,  and the time to question has since vanished. 

The group falls to routine, broken conversations and voices piping in, Taehyung notes the lack of attention the girl that has a grip on his bursting appendage has paid in the past twenty minutes. A simple nod of the head or half smile is the only acknowledgement to his thoughtfully witty remarks. 

He doesn’t miss the drop of her hand to Jeongguk’s arm when he tells a funny joke, her head thrown back with exaggerated laughter and he fights to send a glare his way but thinks better as Jeongguk is too entranced by Dani who has barely said a word since sitting. 

“So, Tae was just telling us about this horror marathon they’re having at the drive-in tomorrow night. He and Guk wanna go.” You fill in once the six of you fall to comfortable silence. You catch Maggie sending a smirk Taehyung’s way, recovering at once when she peeks your gaze out of the corner of her eye. 

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah, Yoon and I could use some alone time so I thought you guys might wanna go with them.”

“Horror?” Dani speaks up, gently shifting to shield herself from Jeongguk’s wandering eyes. “That’s cool, but I don’t know that’s not really my thing.” 

“That's okay!” Jeongguk startles himself with his words, lowering his voice with a nervous chuckle. “I mean, we don’t have to stay the whole time, I wouldn’t mind leaving early. We could get some food or something.” 

“Hey, not all of us are chicken. I wanna stay the whole time,” Maggie pokes her tongue in Dani’s direction, earning the same in return. 

“I’m not chicken. There’s just only so much nuclear family, last girl blah blah blah that I can handle.” Dani shrugs, turning her attention to Jeongguk for the first time that he’s aware of, since she arrived. “It’s okay, you guys should just go without me.” 

“No, I wanna hang with you. We could go to this new pizza place in town if you’re interested?” Jeongguk is pleased to note that you and Yoongi have gone back to your regularly scheduled program, pretending as if your date hasn’t been crashed for the millionth time. Taehyung and Maggie, on the flip, are watching you two as if they’re already tucked into the boot of a car with popcorn between their fingers. 

“Um...I mean, if you really don’t mind. I don’t wanna steal you or them away from the movies.” 

“I’ll stay...ya know, Maggie and I. We could stay and watch the movies and you two could go after the first one or two.” Taehyung glances at Maggie whose eyes are already taking him in, flashing away the moment pupils meet. 

“Yeah, that’s always an option.” She agrees, flashing you a thumbs up. 

“Great!” Four heads snap in your direction, Yoongi is finally sitting upright and you’re all smiles, neatly folding your blanket to pass off. “So it sounds like you guys have a lot of planning to do and we have a lot of kissing to do, so we’ll be seein’ ya!” 

“Wait, don’t you guys wanna finish your food?” Maggie gestures to the half eaten meal left resting in the basket.

“No no, you guys have it. I’m actually in the mood for pizza now so we’ll probably grab some on the way home.” 

“Okay...bye, I guess.” Dani watches with scrunched brows and Jeongguk and Taehyung send Yoongi the same look he’s been sending for weeks for a completely different reason. He sends them a smirk, arm slung around your shoulders as the two of you leave your date crashers in the dust with potential of their own. 

“Have fun!” 

[rosaliepostsstuff]

Chapter 10 - Of convenient interruptions and deceiving magpies

series masterlist

warnings: angst, mention of food and eating

word count: 2856

tags: @gloryekaterina​ ; @thatguppienamedbae​ ; @sagittarius-flowerchild​ ; @scoobiessnacks​ ; @pandaxnienke​ ; @harrysweasleys​ ; @ickle-ronniekins​ ;  @hufflepuff5972​ ; @izzyyy-1​ ; @amourtentiaa​ ; @thisismynerdyself​ ; @hufflepuffalice​ ; @pxroxide-prinxcesss​ ; @lumos-barnes​ ​ ; @weasleygrapes​ ; @famdomhideout​ ; @mollenniumfalcon​ ; @accioweaslcy​ ; @whizboyhalo​ ; 

 —————⑩—————

January rolled around, bringing the new term with it. With a few months left until the N.E.W.T.s, the professors were nagging the seventh years only ever so slightly more.

So you settled back into your routine – classes, studying with occasional breaks to hang out with your mates. Schoolwork-free evenings spent in the common room or the D.A. meetings that resumed after winter break – those were your treats.

In one of your attempts to socialize whilst getting some revising done, you found yourself sitting by one of the more secluded tables in the library, as to avoid getting on Madam Pince’s nerves too much, with Hermione, Ginny and – Loony Lovegood.

The girl was alright, apart from being blunt and not adhering to some social norms in situations where it really couldn’t hurt – you thought. But there was just something about her that made you uneasy when she was around…

To be fair, you hardly ever studied during those studying sessions with Ginny and Hermione. And today was not that bad – your chat was pretty ‘normal’, Ginny was complaining about her boyfriend – Michael’s recent behaviour.

“Why do I even bother with guys anymore..?” she asked rhetorically, lying down on the table, on top of forgotten books and untouched parchment. “That’s a bit dramatic,” Hermione chuckled sympathetically. “Yeah, yeah… but look at Y/N, she doesn’t care about stupid boys and she’s doing just fine,” Ginny commented and you involuntarily let out a loud, high-pitched laugh, thinking about how fine you were doing, making all of them look at you.

You instantly composed yourself, clearing your throat – they didn’t know. Or at least that’s what you thought.

Luna appeared to be intrigued, Ginny was clearly confused and looked at you with amusement, but Hermione – she had a meaningful look about her and you wouldn’t be surprised, she was good at observing people – she knew.

“Oh no,” you let out as you looked at her and your face fell. It was awkward. “You know.” “I don’t know,” she countered very quickly. “Oh, I think you do-“

“Wait, wait, wait, what’s going on,” Ginny followed rapidly, the words melting into one. Hermione looked down onto the table, unsure what to do and you felt your insides turn. You had not prepared yourself mentally for Ginny to know yet – you just had a bad feeling she wouldn’t like the fact that you fancy one of her brothers. Over the years she had mentioned on multiple occasions how she likes you being Fred and George’s mate.

It’s over – you though – cat’s out of the bag. You glanced at Luna, trying to estimate just how uncomfortable confessing in her presence would make you.

“Y/N’s in love with George..!” Hermione blurted out, covering her mouth right after. “I’m sorry, I can’t deal with situations like that!” she hasted to explain herself when you glared at her accusingly.

“Ginny’s brother?” Luna asked airily.

“Aaaaw…” Ginny moaned in disappointment as if she just dropped a scoop of ice-cream. Though her facial expression was mixed, a grimace with a small smile.

You smiled at her awkwardly and shrugged, but no one said anything else.

You sat in this awkward silence as Ginny watched you with the same, unreadable expression. Luna got back to reading her book, and Hermione pretended to, while biting her lips harshly. You didn’t know where to look, or if you should say something else. When no words seemed fitting, you just fiddled with your fingers and the edge of your notebook page.

“Alright, that’s… that’s good, actually. I prefer for you to date him than anyone else. I wouldn’t want him to end up with some bimbo,” Ginny announced after what seemed like hours, with fake seriousness on her face, then smiled at you cheekily.

“Thanks, Gin,” you breathed out, the word ‘date’ echoing in your mind. Dating seemed so, so remote to you at that very moment. You were glad not to have had added more obstacles to your already tricky path, though.

After leaving the library you made your way to the Great Hall and parted ways. Without much thought, you took an empty spot next to George. You shot him a small smile as a greeting, but he looked distracted. He didn’t talk to you – he wasn’t even talking to Fred, who was discussing the future of the new Gryffindor quidditch team on his other side.

You got a bit worried, nevertheless, you were hoping you were just exaggerating - maybe he was tired. And if anything was actually wrong, he’d tell you when he’d feel ready.

“Pumpkin juice?” you asked, hovering the pitcher above his empty goblet. He nodded, then thanked you when you poured him the juice.

Throughout the meal, you tried to make a conversation, ask about his day and tell him about yours. Whatever his behaviour was, it probably had nothing to do with you, because he spoke normally and wasn’t shutting you down.

When you left the hall, the crowd seemed especially dense, you and George got separated from Fred and Lee and you noticed that when you walked an empty corridor on your way to the common room.

You were close to your destination, you could see the Fat Lady in the distance when George stopped hesitantly. He had his hands in his pockets and he looked around, anywhere but at you. This unusual behaviour made you uneasy.

When he finally looked at you, he spoke, “Y/N,” then crossed his arms on his chest, then turned his eyes back towards the stone floor. “…I’ve been meaning to ask you something, when we’re alone, for a while…” he continued, making your blood run cold. “…What is it?” you asked, doing your best to sound normal.

“You know, you’ve been… you’ve been behaving a bit-“ he bit his lip, looking for the right word, “differently, lately.”

You swallowed thickly, your hands started to tingle and your mind was going a hundred miles per hour. There were countless possibilities as to why he could be asking that question, was it the one you were expecting the most? The one that would expose you?

“Have I?” you continued your act, failing miserably. You couldn’t read the expression on his face. It was not warm or cheerful like you were most used to, but it wasn’t cold or accusing either. You were at a loss, trying to decipher what was going through his mind.

“Yeah, for some time now,” he answered, nodding slowly.

This did not give you any more information you needed desperately to play this right. You were thinking hard about what to say next, when the portrait of the Fat Lady opened, revealing Lee.

Upon noticing the two of you, Lee beamed right away, clearly not having read into the situation.

“Oi, have you seen what’s happening in the entrance courtyard right now?!” he shouted. “No, why?” George replied, not matching Lee’s enthusiasm. “Come on, everyone’s gathering there!!”

Lee’s appearance cut the topic off completely. The air between the two of you was awkward for the rest of the day but neither one mentioned it again. And the next day, it was like the conversation never happened.

At least formally – it has planted even more questions into your mind.

 —————⑩—————

 “Just remember, the memory must really be powerful and you have to focus!” Harry explained to the group standing in front of him.

You stood next to him, a bit to the side – he asked you to help out with the teaching side a bit that evening, seeing as you’d be working on Patronuses – a spell you had mastered a couple of years before.

“Could we see it again?” asked Colin Creevey, hoping Harry would show off his own Patronus once more. Harry turned to you instead, “Y/N..?” – waking you up.

Put on the spot, you felt a rush of nerves but tried to push them back. You took a deep breath and recalled your go-to memory of a sunny day, three years prior, when George came along with you on a weekend trip to your grandparents across the country.

You woke up with a rush of adrenaline that day. At the breakfast table you kept glancing at the clock on the wall, dreading that no matter how fast you’d finish your toast, you couldn’t be there to pick up George earlier than 8 AM.

It felt weird to depart without Fred, but you couldn’t have expected him to turn his aunt Muriel’s bag invisible, resulting in him being grounded. You didn’t want to be glad he wasn’t there, but the trip with just you and George was something truly unforgettable.

While your grandparents’ place wasn’t anything extraordinary in itself, unlike at your home at the Burrow, the two of you were left to your own device.

Just you, George, sunny weather and the call of adventure.

The memory’s energy filled you to the brim, with full confidence you said “Expecto Patronum!”, excited to see the familiar shape of a feisty wivern.

What you saw when you looked up shocked you – a small bird fluttering its wings above everyone’s heads. Your mouth fell open slightly as you stared at it, the bird perched itself on one of the bookshelves on the side of the room.

The group didn’t notice your shock however, they didn’t know your Patronus’ form, they were in awe of the small animal’s beauty. Everyone – except for two people you had shown your Patronus before.

Of course, you showed off to Fred and George almost right after learning that spell. Which is exactly why they both looked puzzled as well.

“Alright, I think we can get to practice now!” exclaimed Harry, the group scurried and the bird turned into mist, then disappeared.

You tried your best not to dwell on that mystery just yet, but actually try helping others out. Which is why you didn’t stick around Fred and George for too long, afraid that one of them might want to discuss it.

That was until, after many tries, close to the end of the meeting, after succeeding in making a shield form - George’s corporeal Patronus appeared. It was incredible.

“A magpie…” you whispered to yourself underneath your breath, covering your mouth with your hand. A magpie, just like yours, flying in circles above Fred and George.

George stared at it in shock, at a loss of words at first, then a relieved smile started to show on his face.

But then Fred, in a rush of excitement, succeeded as well - his Patronus appearing as a magpie, too.

George’s face fell, and his bird vanished. But you weren’t paying attention anymore.

On your way back to the common room you stuck to Fred, George and Lee, mostly because it was just a custom. The atmosphere was strange the whole way.

You felt tense, you avoided looking at George, afraid it might prompt him to speak to you. You were sure he had figured it all out by now, and you did not want to hear the words of rejection.

After all – if he had felt the same, surely he would’ve reacted more strongly, come up to you right away and confess too – daydreams.

Instead, he was walking a distance from you with a stone face, his hands in his pockets. Fred was walking in the middle, dividing you two – a casual, content expression on his face.

When you got into the common room, most of the D.A. members went upstairs to their respective dorms. You didn’t miss how George sped up in front f Fred and went up - two steps at a time. You collapsed on the sofa, not seeing the point of going about your day at that very moment. You felt crushed.

Just as the last students were leaving, Fred came back downstairs, on his own this time. He was just looking for something to do when he saw you.

He made himself comfortable in the armchair directly opposite you and looked at you expectantly with a smirk.

“You’re alone?” you asked quietly, thinking it was the least invasive way to ask for the information you truly wanted. Fred understood. “I don’t know what his deal is, he doesn’t seem to want to talk to me,” he answered simply. “He’ll sort himself out.”

When you didn’t say anything for a few seconds more, he took it upon himself.

“Soo – you wanna tell me what that was about?” Fred asked the question you expected from the very start. If you were him, you’d probably have asked too, out of sheer curiosity. You took a moment to think, but he was impatient – “the whole Patronus thing – as far as I know, it doesn’t just change on a whim… and a very interesting new form, indeed,” he got to the bottom of the case.

You wanted to tell Fred, you really did. You saw no point in denying it and just making yourself look stupid. He was your friend after all, and even though you had not thought about it, you have gotten even closer lately. Maybe partly because of how things with George changed, or maybe because you’ve all grown.

Fred truly felt like a brother, even if he could be a major prat, he was actually more like a brother to you than George ever was.

The only problem for you was how impartial would he remain? The last thing you wanted was anyone meddling with the situation between you and George – even his twin brother. And it would be hard for Fred not to, but you’d just have to trust him to see what’s right.

“Alright, but you have to promise me something. Everything stays between us, and whatever you do – don’t interfere, please.”

Fred sighed and his smirk got replaced with a kind smile. He got up and sat next to you on the sofa, laying his arm on the backrest. “Alright, promise. I’m listening.”

But where should you start? It felt weird all of a sudden, you’d never discussed your love life with Fred, and admitting to being in love with his brother felt even stranger.

You decided to start as simply as possible.

“I don’t really get it either. You know George and I have been close since we met, I’ve always loved him as a friend, and really didn’t see him that way before…” you spoke as quiet as possible, knowing how the sound could travel in the silence of the common room. You avoided looking at Fred and played with your hands in your lap, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, continuing – “A while ago, sometime in November, it… just changed.”

Fred hasn’t replied right away, and you kept your face down. “I love him,” you whispered, bowing your head even lower to hide your face. “Idiotically much.”

When you finally looked up, Fred was leaning his chin on his arm, on the back of the sofa, thinking.

“And how have you not told him yet?” he asked after a few seconds. “It’s not that simple. And I had a lot to figure out.” “I know, but I don’t get how you can spend so much time with someone you fancy and not snap- and just tell them,” he reasoned, looking at you. It actually made you quite happy - that meant you got to the Fred you wanted, he wasn’t judging you or wanted to tease you, but was trying to really understand and have a conversation. “Maybe…” you mumbled. “And if you’re wondering if I’m gonna tell you he’s in love with you too in a second, then I can tell you right away, that I don’t know. We don’t really talk about stuff like that.” “Better that way,” you pointed out, “I really prefer you impartial.” “Impartial’s a bit much-“ “Regardless, I don’t think he does,” you admitted, seriously. “He said a few days ago that he noticed me acting differently and the whole thing was really strange, but we never spoke about it again. And now today – there is no way he hasn’t figured it out and you saw how he’s acting… He’s probably upset right now because he doesn’t feel the same and knows we can’t be friends like before.”

There was another moment of silence and Fred was about to say something, when the two of you heard a door close loudly in one of the staircases, then a pair of footsteps travelling down from the boys’ dorms.

You automatically turned that way to look and saw George step in, with a neutral expression. He looked at the sofa, then quickly looked around the otherwise empty common room. He glanced at his feet for a second and in the semi-darkness, it looked like he scoffed, then back at you and Fred, with a look in his eye you’ve never seen before. It was hurt.

“Done brooding?” Fred asked, probably as an attempt to lighten the mood, but George turned around without a word and stormed back up.

“He hates me,” you whispered, mostly to yourself, feeling tears reaching your eyes, and your whole world falling apart around you.

[sailorspazz]

Remote 10 Dance Ball

I know this is coming way late (as in, 3 months after it occurred!), but I’d always been planning to write up a report about the Real 10 Dance event that took place shortly after vol. 6’s release in Japan. Before I get into the explanation of what exactly this is under the cut, enjoy this promo image that ticket holders were able to print out at Japanese convenience stores (mine had to be printed by friends who live there and then scanned to me)

The Real 10 Dance is a series of events that have taken place over the past few years featuring real life pros performing routines inspired by the manga, meaning that most of the dances feature male-male couples (though they all have female partners in their regular careers, for these performances they dance together, and the women are given a group number to perform). The most recent live event took place in September 2019 shortly after vol. 5’s release, and there was another planned for 2020 in Osaka, but it was delayed and eventually completely canceled due to Covid restrictions. Wanting to still put on the event in some form, they later announced that it would take place virtually, and would be branded as the Remote 10 Dance Ball. For the cost of 1,000 yen, viewers could watch a stream of the event as many times as they pleased from the time it went live on March 20 until the viewing deadline 72 hours later. Unlike the in person events, there were no merchandise buying opportunities, but there was the option of paying additional 1,000 yen tips to either the performers, the production committee, or Inouesatoh herself. Choosing any of these options would give that ticket holder access to a code to print the postcard shown above, as well as a link to view a 17 minute making-of video of the event.

Before I get into the rundown, The Real 10 Dance Twitter account posted a preview video a couple weeks before the event, which you can watch if you’d like to see some of the action instead of just still images (and the only ones I’ll share here are those that were posted publicly, since they were pretty adamant about no screenshotting/recording of the event…not gonna lie, I did attempt to screenshot a couple parts, but due to the shaky streaming quality, the official photos are much better than what I was able to capture anyway :P) Also, I only made bare minimum notes while I was watching this (and was drinking hard cider), so I’ll give as much detail as I can remember, but there are definitely things I’ll have forgotten by now.

The show started off with one of the female pros giving a demonstration of how to apply makeup for competitions. After this came an introductory show with all of the participants dancing to the opening theme from La La Land.

Next up was some of the pros talking about the characteristics of their costumes, such as the Latin outfits having features like illusion netting to make their limbs look longer, and fringe to create movement.

After this, some of the pros gave tours of the dance schools that they run, which also served as advertisements for those who may be interested in signing up for lessons.

Then came some step demonstrations, showing specific panels from the manga and then describing how to perform the moves. This included Al and Suzuki’s rumba walk from chapter 18, and the throwaway oversway from the chapter 4 scene where Sugiki turns Suzuki into a princess. For the oversway, they performed the move a few different times, using prompts such as “do it like the world’s about to end” to show how the same move can feel very different depending on the emotion behind it.

This was followed by an interview with former standard world champion Christopher Hawkins. The interview was conducted in Japanese, as he is fluent in the language (Inouesatoh tweeted about him being the inspiration to have Norman speak some Japanese in the story, though she acknowledged that Chris’ abilities are far above Norman’s very basic phrases). It included two interviewers asking questions that were submitted by Inouesatoh and her editor. It started off with some basic talk about the process of training and getting prepared for competitions, then moved on to topics like whether he had any competition related superstitions/habits, such as how some dancers will have a pair of lucky underwear they always wear when competing. He said he had a specific order to how he would button his shirt and attach his cufflinks (as in, not just going straight up or down, but skipping over some and coming back to them), and if he didn’t do this specific routine it made him feel like the competition would go poorly. After telling this story, he laughed and said that he’s never told anyone about this before, so it was definitely an interesting question. Then came probably the most important question for fans of 10 Dance: since the series centers around men dancing together, what sort of experience does Chris have dancing with other men? (Funnily enough, for some reason, the male interviewer first asked this question in Japanese, then rather enthusiastically asked the question in English as well lol). Chris said that of course he’s danced with male students a lot in the course of teaching them, but outside of that also had times where he would train in the female role so he knew how it felt to be the following partner, and therefore could become a better lead. He mentioned some performance he did with another high level male dancer that was pretty amazing (forgive me, I didn’t catch the name at all, or even whether he was a standard or Latin specialist), which caused the female interviewer to joke about writing a love story about the two of them.

Then came the main draw of the event, the dance show! I’ll include the song, dance style, and an image from each performance below.

One Way or Another by Blondie, jive

Lady Marmalade (I believe it was the Moulin Rouge movie version), ladies group cha-cha

Half of Me by Ken Hirai, rumba (I don’t know if it’s just because it made me think of the melancholy rumba shown on vol. 6’s cover, but this made me both want to cry and watch it multiple times over, definitely my favorite because apparently I like to punish myself with sadness :P)

All of Me by Michael Bublé, foxtrot (this was filmed both in the performance space and out on the streets in one of the locations used in chapter 33, as shown in this video from one chilly looking morning. Also, this dance featured a leader switch partway through!)

If I Can’t Have You by Shawn Mendes, cha-cha

Finale with all participants to It’s Time to Dance from “The Prom” musical

Last up was a virtual art exhibition featuring 17 sketches by Inouesatoh, including the most powerful sexual stimulant in the known universe, Bathrobe Sugiki.

Overall, I was very happy to get the chance to witness this event. Normally, the number of people would be limited to just those who were in Japan and able to purchase tickets before they sold out, but this remote version allowed a much larger number of people from all over the world to watch (I bought my ticket not even knowing if it would be region locked or not, but thankfully it wasn’t). I hope that the world situation improves and they can put on the event live and in-person again (even better if I could somehow find a way to attend when that happens!), but I think this was a great alternative, and probably a good way to make some revenue in a time when the ability to stage events is limited. The price of 1,000 yen was an incredibly good deal for all the content that was presented (and you better believe I slammed an extra 1,000 straight to Inouesatoh; the only merch I’ve been able to buy is secondhand, and while this satisfies my needs as a collector, it unfortunately doesn’t provide any support to the author). If real life performances are still a long way off and they decide to do a virtual one again, you bet your ass I’ll be right there in the (imaginary) front row!

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Seventeen

@lukadrien-june

Read it on AO3: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Seventeen: Broken Families

“Sup, G Flat,” Xavier-Yves greeted as he descended the stairs into the main cabin of the Liberty.

Adrien grimaced but mentally reminded himself to be nice for Luka’s sake.

“Hi, XY. Luka’s actually not here right now. He’s out with the Capitaine, and I don’t think they’ll be back soon,” he informed, hoping that that would be the end of his exposure to the popstar for the day.

XY shrugged, taking a seat on the opposite limb of the L-shaped couch from Adrien.

“That’s okay,” XY assured as he made himself comfortable, spreading out like a starfish and pulling his laptop out of his bag. “You probably don’t know this because you’re still pretty new here, but I have the okay to just kick it here whenever I want.”

Adrien nodded, internally cursing his lot in life. “I see. That’s cool.”

“Yeppers,” Xavier-Yves agreed, barely paying Adrien any mind as he started up his audio editing program.

Adrien set aside the book he’d borrowed from Luka, seeing that he wasn’t going to get any more reading done in XY’s presence.

“How long do you think you’ll hang out?” Adrien inquired, trying to sound interested rather than rude and impatient for Xavier-Yves to leave.

XY shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe a couple hours? Probably until this evening.”

Adrien mentally swore.

“I’m hiding from my dad,” XY added voluntarily.

Adrien frowned. “Why?”

XY clicked his tongue. “He’s trying to set me up with some actress. You know. For publicity and all that.”

Adrien shuddered. “My father made me do that a couple times. I’ve always hated that kind of thing.”

“Dude, I know!” XY exclaimed, looking up from his computer screen. “Sucks, right?!”

Adrien nodded. “I mean, some of the girls were okay, and I may have even been able to like one or two of them in earnest if we’d met more naturally and it had been our decision to date, but…those arrangements are so staged. I always resented them as just one more thing Father was making me do against my will and completely ignoring my wishes about.”

“Tch. Yeah,” Xavier-Yves scoffed. “Trust me. I hear you.”

Just as suddenly as the conversation started, it ended, and XY seemed to go back to his laptop.

Adrien gave his book a sidelong look, debating whether to take it up to the deck to continue reading in peace.

Before he could come to a decision, XY broke back into Adrien’s thoughts.

“…So…you’re bi or what?”

Adrien gave a start. “What?”

“You said you could have liked some of the girls your dad made you date,” XY explained, “but I always thought you had a thing for Luka…so are you bi or in denial or what?”

Adrien stared at his love rival for a moment, trying to determine whether he should be affronted by XY’s abrupt demands for personal information.

Xavier-Yves looked at Adrien expectantly with seemingly no malice or agenda hidden behind his words.

It was then that Adrien remembered what Luka had told him about XY’s penchant for coming across as rude due to his lack of normal socialization—something Adrien could, unfortunately, relate to.

Adrien decided to take XY’s question in good faith and answered, “I think I’m probably bi.”

XY cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean you think you’re bi? Isn’t that something you just know?”

Adrien shifted uncomfortably under Xavier-Yves’s scrutiny. “I think it’s confusing because the media really only shows men and women ending up with one another, so that’s how I thought it had to be when I was growing up. I didn’t realize guys were actually an option until later, and I’ve mostly just been interested in girls so far. I mean, I can tell if a guy is attractive, but Luka’s the only guy I’ve ever been attracted to in practice, not just in theory.”

XY blinked several times, trying to parse Adrien’s response. “…So…you’re bi?”

“At least as far as Luka’s concerned,” Adrien confirmed with a shrug.

“You make my head hurt,” XY announced. “You’re just thinking about it too much.”

“Maybe,” Adrien chuckled, musing that XY might have accidentally stumbled upon the truth.

Xavier-Yves shook his head. “I’ve always known I was gay. I never even looked at girls as a kid.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “I-I’m sorry. I always assumed you were bi. Well…after I found out about your feelings for Luka, anyway. Until then, I thought you were straight.”

XY rolled his eyes and waved dismissively. “That’s because my dad says I have to stay in the closet.”

Adrien’s jaw descended several centimeters. “He what?”

XY nodded, setting his laptop aside and angling more towards Adrien. “My dad says that gay doesn’t sell and that all of my fangirls will stop buying my music and coming to concerts if they find out I only like dudes, so I can’t tell anyone I’m gay.”

Adrien blinked dumbly, finding himself wondering if his own father would react similarly if he found out about Adrien being queer. A lot of people in fashion were, so maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal, but…somehow, Adrien got the feeling that Gabriel would probably prefer it if Adrien kept that fact to himself and found a nice female partner.

“…I’m sorry,” Adrien mumbled, suddenly seeing past the annoying, inconvenient aspects of XY to the very real person with problems and feelings and dreams underneath.

XY shrugged. “Is what it is. Just don’t you go tellin’ people.”

“I would never do that,” Adrien was quick to assure.

XY gave a snort as he nodded. “Good.”

“…So…you’re not allowed to date?” Adrien inquired, morbid curiosity getting the best of him.

XY shook his head. “Nah. Dad would flip. It’s okay, though. I’ve never been really into anyone before, so it was, like, whatever.”

Adrien’s eyebrow arched. “What about Luka? You seem pretty into him.”

“Luka’s different,” Xavier-Yves confirmed with a passionate punch to the words. “He’s the one, you know?”

Adrien dropped his gaze, wilting slightly because he knew that fact all too well.

“I’d come out, if he wanted me to,” XY continued. “I don’t know. Luka’s kind of quiet and private, so I don’t know if he’d want to make it all public, but he’d at least want to tell his friends who he was seeing, so it would get out there eventually. I wouldn’t care, though. He’s worth it.”

“You really care about him a lot,” Adrien whispered.

“You bet I do,” XY insisted. “You know how annoying and dumb I am.”

Adrien’s head jerked up at the blatant self-deprecation.

“Not a lot of people like me. A lot of people pretend to because they want something, but they don’t actually like me,” XY snorted.

Adrien suddenly felt a chill at hearing circumstances that so closely echoed his own.

“Luka didn’t like me at first, and he had a good excuse not to, but instead of telling me to get lost when I came to ask him to teach me about loving music, he put up with me,” XY recounted with a soft look of gratitude and affection in his placid blue eyes.

“He was really patient, and he taught me and helped me be a better person. My dad taught me a lot of bad things.” His eyes dropped to the floor as he confessed his past shortcomings. “I didn’t know they were bad until Luka told me so…so I owe him a lot. I’d do anything for him.”

Adrien nodded passively, averting his gaze as he wondered if Luka wouldn’t be better off with XY than himself.

Xavier-Yves could give Luka fortune and industry contacts, and while “Roth” wasn’t the most well-liked surname in Paris, it was worlds ahead of “Agreste” which had become synonymous with “dirt” a month previously when Papillon’s identity had been revealed.

Maybe Adrien should step aside romantically and focus on being a good, supportive friend to Luka.

“I’d do anything for him,” Xavier-Yves repeated solemnly, “…even if that meant bowing out and supporting his happiness with you.”

Adrien’s head jerked up again, and he gaped at XY in disbelief. “What?”

XY shrugged. “The most important thing is that Luka is happy, yeah?”

Adrien nodded, still not understanding. “Yes. Absolutely. But…what does that have to do with me?”

XY shook his head. “You’re important to him. We’re both really important to him. I can’t tell you how many times he’s asked me to try to play nice with you these past few weeks because he wants us both in his life, and he wants us all to get along.”

Adrien’s lips rounded into a small “o”.

XY nodded. “I want him to be happy. Even if you win, I want him to be happy, so I’m gonna try to be friends with you because it’s important to Luka.”

Adrien slowly began to nod. “Okay. I can’t promise I’ll ever really like you much, but I’m going to tolerate you for Luka’s sake. So, let’s make this work, okay?”

“Deal,” XY agreed with a wide grin, holding out his fist to Adrien for a fist bump.

Chuckling, Adrien leaned forward and touched his fist to XY’s.

“…So,” Xavier-Yves remarked after the moment had passed. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

Adrien shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

“How good’s your English?” XY asked, grabbing his laptop and opening up his video library.

“Not fluent, but I should be able to watch a movie without subtitles,” Adrien replied, moving to sit next to Xavier-Yves.

XY looked up at Adrien and tipped his head to the side. “You ever heard of Abbott and Costello?”

Adrien frowned, searching his memory banks. “…The comedy duo?”

XY nodded enthusiastically, a wide grin quickly spreading from one cheek to the other. “They’re super dope. You’ll love them. Let’s watch In Society. It’s got one of my favourite routines.”

“All right,” Adrien easily agreed, reasoning that he owed it to Luka and himself to make an effort. “Sounds good.”

 A little over an hour later, Luka returned to find Adrien and Xavier-Yves in a pile on the couch, leaning on one another to keep themselves upright as they chortled, “He’s not dead, Lady! He’s hiding!”

“I see you showed him Abbott and Costello?” Luka remarked, announcing his presence.

XY pushed himself up to grin adoringly at Luka. “Yeah. We were just thinking about watching another. Wanna join us?”

“Sure,” Luka chuckled, coming around to their side of the couch.

Adrien scooted over to make room for Luka between himself and XY.

“After all, it’s not every day that two of my best friends are able to spend time together without wanting to kill one another. We should do something to celebrate,” Luka reasoned.

“We’re not that bad. We just…verbally snipe at each other sometimes,” Adrien giggled, quickly snuggling up to Luka at exactly the same moment XY wrapped his arm around Luka’s shoulders.

“Yeah,” XY seconded. “The only friend of yours I want to kill is that Jacob loser.”

Luka groaned, rolling his eyes.

Adrien lifted his head to look around Luka at Xavier-Yves. “Jacob?”

XY nodded. “That bassist in his band. He’s Luka’s ex.”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow. “We can’t be civil with Luka’s exes?”

XY’s eyes narrowed. “Jacob’s one of the four he slept with.”

“Oh,” Adrien replied flatly, his opinion abruptly changing.

“Yeah. Those ones are dead to me,” Xavier-Yves snorted.

“Can we not talk about my love life?” Luka sighed, tipping his head back to stare up at the ceiling. “It’s really not that interesting. Let’s watch the movie.”

XY clicked his tongue. “I beg to be different. I am super interested in the people you’ve slept with.”

“Prune,” Luka groaned. “Drop it. I’ve been the adult in this household since I was ten. I’m allowed to sleep with whomever my little demi heart loves.”

“Would you sleep with me?” XY wondered curiously.

Luka’s cheeks flushed as he pointedly avoided Xavier-Yves’s gaze. “No comment.”

“Would you sleep with him?” XY pressed, jabbing a finger at Adrien.

Luka choked on air, making a wheezing sound of distress.

“No comment,” he managed with some effort.

“How about a threesome?” Xavier-Yves suggested amicably.

Adrien burst out laughing, snuggling in closer.

“For the love of whatever you hold sacred, start the movie already before I strangle you,” Luka pleaded.

“I could be into that,” XY replied, waggling his eyebrows.

Luka threw his hands up in the air, exclaiming, “Aaaaah!”

This caused Adrien to laugh even harder.

XY joined in.