#fucking life and then it’ll go right back to playing your heartstrings like a fucking fiddle

[problemeule]

back on my bullshit

[malleux]

idk if my request went through cuz my internet went weird just now-- but anyways, could I perhaps get a soft corpse x reader in which they're all playing among us and Rae or Sean invites (y/n), who none of them have every heard of, and she's just very shy but has an adorable childlike voice, and is an incredible imposter? Like she's just super convincing just like corpse, and can tug at the heartstrings with her voice? thank you!

spell. | corpse husband

part two ; part three

-> Pairing: Corpse Husband x Fem!Reader

-> Fandom: uhh youtubers? idk

-> Genre: Fluff, Crack

-> Warnings: Cursing

-> A/N: hi it’s a long overdue corpse fic :) it’s not the absolute best and for that i’m super sorry i’ve just got to get in the groove of writing for him!

corpse husband taglist is closed!

You were never one to enjoy the spotlight. Instead, you were often found in the background of things, just observing the extroverts who managed to get themselves in the middle of everything.

You had a nerve to admire them- their ability to just get out there and show their true selves, despite so many people watching their every move. Just the thought of it made you shudder. Yet you couldn’t help but also be rather envious of them.

Them, in question, being Sean McLoughlin.

You weren’t quite sure how you became associated with Jacksepticeye himself, choosing to focus on the present and future with your friend rather than dwelling on your past. He was just Sean, your internet friend. And also Jacksepticeye- a famous youtuber with millions of followers.

Sean was who you aspired to be in life. Outgoing, happy, out there, everything positive in life that Sean had, you wanted.

He’d confided in you often about how nervous he’d get before streams or videos, fearing that he’d say the wrong thing or upset his fans, but he still put on a brave face and went out into the chaos. That’s what you admired. His ability to conquer those anxieties.

You wished you could do that. You were simply too nervous.

Which is why when Sean facetimed you one night- morning, actually, seeing as it was 3am in California, where you were- asking you to join a game of Among Us for one of his videos, you adamantly refused.

“Why? Please, Y/N, we need one more person.” Sean begged, “It’ll be me, you, Felix, Ethan, Corpse, Julien, PJ, and Dave. Not everyone’s playing today, it’s a smaller crowd.”

“But it’s still a lot.” You groaned, “I don’t even know them. I just know you.”

“They’re nice! You literally watch their videos.” He argued back.

“That’s the point, Sean! They’re famous, I’d just be some random chick in the game that everyone asks where the fuck she came from.”

“No, you’ll be the girl that everyone adores. Now get on, we’re playing in ten.”

You sighed as the phone hung up and turned on your computer. A Discord invite was waiting for you- Sean must have invited you for you to talk to everyone as you played. You accepted with shaky fingers and put your headphones on, pulling up Among Us and typing in the game code.

“Hello everyone- wait, who’s pink?”

“She’s a good friend of mine,” Sean explained to Felix, “Say hi Y/N. We’re streaming live right now.”

“Hello,” You couldn’t help the meek tone in your voice, smiling shyly as if you were actually on camera. “Wait, you’re streaming? Sean, I thought you said it was a recording for a video.”

“I, well. It’s a video all right.”

The group laughed, but you stayed silent, fixating your attention on a lower voice that chimed in at the end.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Corpse.”

“The King of Imposters.” PJ joked, making Corpse laugh.

You giggled a bit, “Hi…”

Felix gasped. “Corpse, her voice is like, the total opposite from yours. Her’s is so cute.”

Corpse laughed as well. “Agreed. I like it.”

As the game loaded, your heart practically dropped.

Imposter.

As if your nerves weren’t bad enough as they were. But, on the bright side, you were with Sean as the other imposter. At least it was someone you knew.

You both split up, you heading towards Electrical. Corpse and Felix were close behind you, Felix following you into the room while Corpse left. You pretended to do your task for a minute before moving to your left a minute and killing Felix.

You rushed out of the room and then headed to Navigations, making sure to avoid anybody who could have seen you leave Electrical. A few moments later, a body was reported.

“Where was it?” Sean asked Julien, the reporter.

“Electrical.”

“I saw Y/N go in there with him at the beginning of the game.” Corpse joined in, “I saw them as I was going to the Reactor.”

“I was in Electrical with him,” You admitted, still acting a bit shy. What could you say, deep voices and new people made you nervous. “But after that I left and went to do my task in Navigation. Felix was still alive and there when I left.”

“Did you pass anyone sus on the way there?” Sean asked.

“No, if they came in after I did it must’ve either been from the other way or after I was already in Electrical.” You started picking at your nail polish- a habit of yours when things got a little overwhelming.

“So you’re saying that it could’ve been from the direction Corpse was in?” You could hear the smirk in Sean’s voice.

“Whoa, whoa, hold up. Why are you so quick to throw me under the bus? I’m just a crewmate.” Corpse questioned, “You’re pretty sus if you ask me.”

Sean scoffed, “I’m just inferring that the culprit came from your direction. Never in my words did I say it was you. Sounds like you’re getting a little too defensive for someone who’s ‘just a crew mate’.”

“Uh, guys,” You quietly spoke up. You didn’t expect anyone to hear you, but Corpse and Sean immediately quieted down at your voice. “I hate to interrupt, but we’ve got to vote. I don’t want us to argue…”

Sean laughed. “Oh little Y/N, you’re too sweet. I’m skipping this round.”

As you voted to skip as well, your stomach clenched when you heard Corpse quietly repeat “Little Y/N”.

꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂꧁꧂

“It’s Y/N, I’m fucking telling you! Y/N!” Julien was practically screaming at this point. You tried to stay calm, focusing on keeping your voice steady.

The group had been calling you cute and adorable practically all night, so you were seriously about to put that to use.

“I was in Medbay with Corpse, isn’t that right, Corpse?” Your tone was sweet and slightly flirty- hopefully he’d get the hint.

Corpse hesitated for a millisecond- long enough for your breath to catch, but short enough for nobody else to notice. “Yeah, she was with me.”

“She was with you after she vented there!” Julien cried, “I can’t believe this- she killed Ethan and vented away right as I went into the room! You all are fucking nuts if you don’t believe me.”

“I don’t even know how to vent…” You murmured innocently, but in reality you were smirking. Julien was definitely telling the truth, and you were internally beating yourself up for letting yourself be so reckless after a kill, but nobody was seemingly buying his story.

There was only you, Corpse, Julien, Dave, and PJ left. Sean was voted off after fucking up his alibi, leaving you alone with the rest of the group.

Corpse sighed. “You all heard the girl. She doesn’t even know how to vent.”

“Wh- she just fucking vented!” Julien exclaimed, “Corpse, man, she’s got you under some fucking magic spell if you can’t see all the evidence. Guys, back me up here.”

“She’s sus.” Dave admitted, “And Corpse defending her makes it even more sus.”

“The spell she tried on him obviously got the best of him. I say we vote Y/N.” PJ agreed.

“There’s no spell, guys, oh my God.” Corpse laughed, “I just don’t think it’s her. I’m skipping.”

“I can’t believe you guys don’t believe me!” You whined, deciding to go further with your emotional tactics, “I’m literally about to cry. It’s not me!”

And yet, despite your protests, Dave, PJ, and Julien all voted you out. Crewmates had won the game and you were giggling nearly like a maniac as everyone gushed about how you did as an Imposter.

A bit later, you had to say goodbye to your new friends and face the reality that their fans would definitely find who you were by tomorrow. Or like, in a few hours, because it was already 4am. Corpse was in California as well, wasn’t he? He should be getting some sleep too, you thought. But maybe sleep schedules were different for Youtubers. You didn’t know.

You pondered the thought for a moment before the notification sound for Discord alerted you of a new message on your phone.

Corpse:

Just letting you know, your voice definitely had me under a spell. I’d like to hear it more often

[allthingskakashi]

You said you don't write NSFW but what about a fluff "morning after" scenario for kakashi and a female S/O. Like, they had their first time the night before and they're waking up in the next morning and it's just fluff and cuteness all over. If you don't write this type of stuff either you can just ignore the ask. Take all the time you need if you're going to write it 💜

Hey anon! I’m good with writing a morning after! god it’ll be so fluffy and cute ugh and he’s gonna be the best!! Hope you like it! :)))

• The Morning After •

[Kakashi x Reader]

Languor takes over all your senses, making you barely aware of your surroundings. You want to get up, but it feels like you’re not even in control of your own body.

You squeeze your eyes tight as you feel the harsh bright rays of the Sun hitting your sleep ridden, heavy eyelids.  It must be well past when you usually wake up. You’re so sleepy, but you need to get up. This is your off day in a long time and you’ve got a lot to do. A list of all the things you need to get done once you’re up runs through your subconscious mind, perturbing you.

This fucking sunlight though, Jesus.

You force your eyes open just a slit. A blurry image of a room that’s not your own comes into view. Ugh I can’t even process anything.

You turn your gaze to your immediate vicinity and see an extended arm sticking out from under your head.

Oh.

Kakashi…

Images flood into your mind at the speed of light.

You and Kakashi watching TV…Kakashi carrying you from the couch to his bed… the two of you entangled in each other’s arms, kissing like it was for survival…him lifting your t-shirt slowly over your head…His mouth exploring your every curve and crevice…your sweaty bodies in rhythmic synchronization…both of your moans reverberating through the room…holding each other tight…falling asleep in his arms…

You feel the loud thud of your heart hammering in your chest as a montage of last night’s events plays through your mind. You’re fully awake and in your senses now. Your heart is racing as you recollect everything that happened just a few hours ago. Did that really happen?

Just the recollection sends a warm rush to your cheeks, followed closely by a feeling of overwhelming happiness in your heart. Yes, it did.

And with none other than Kakashi, the man you’re deeply in love with. The man you know loves you so much he’d die for you in a heartbeat. The man you know is the one.

You smile in contentment.

You take Kakashi’s hand sticking out from under your head and place a soft kiss on his palm, before intertwining your fingers with his. Judging by how motionless his hand feels, he must still be sound asleep. The thought of his beautiful face in tranquility, with his mussed hair sprawled all over it makes you smile to yourself. You slowly turn to your other side to face Kakashi, careful not to disturb him; anticipating a replicated sight of the image inside your head.

Facing him now, you rest your gaze upon him, only to catch him wide awake, staring at you with eyes so full of love and warmth, a subtle smile on his lips. His smile broadens as soon as your eyes meet.

He looks angelic lying there beside you, his ashen hair shining silver in the sunlight. You can’t help but smile back at him.

“Good morning”, you whisper, snuggling closer to Kakashi’s chest. “How long have you been up?”

He pulls you in further and kisses the top of your head. “A while. Did you sleep okay?”

“The best I’ve slept in ages” you answer truthfully.

“Me too” Kakashi says, firming up his grip around you, his tone husky from the sleep.

The Sun outside is starting to shine brighter now, making you just a tad clammy under all the covers. You bury your face in Kakashi’s chest, trying to block out the light.

He notices, indubitably. Nothing that causes you discomfort ever escapes the copy ninja’s observant eyes. He moves nearer, providing more of his chest as a shield to you. 

“I’m sorry about that. I was going to get up and pull the curtains but...” his voice drops low “but you were sleeping on my arm...and I didn’t want to move away” he finishes in a murmur, as if he’s almost embarrassed to admit it.

You raise your head to look at him and start chuckling.

  What did I ever to do deserve this guy?

You get an irresistible urge to just reach over and smother him with kisses.

“You’re so fucking cute, you know that?” you say, laughing. He flusters up, just as he always does whenever you compliment him.

“You might have mentioned it a few times” Kakashi says, trying to sound cocky but being deceived by the giddiness in his eyes.

“But still not enough” you say, pulling his face in towards you.

Holding his face in both your hands, you plant a kiss on his forehead, and then bridge of his nose, tracing your lips all over his face. His cheeks, his eyelids, the scar on his eye, his mole, and all across, before pressing your lips on his mouth. He immediately parts his lip, greeting your tongue into his mouth with his own. He requites, taking your face in his hands and pulling you to him as your tongues meet in fervent swirls.

You keep going till you’re completely breathless. You pull your lips apart slowly, panting and unwilling to stop, your lips like opposite ends of a magnet; but needing to catch your breath.

“Well that certainly makes up for missing out on our morning work out today” you remark with smile, your voice teasing.

Kakashi laughs. “More than makes up.”

You fall back down on the bed again, lying side by side on your backs in shared silence, taking in the warmth of each other’s presence.

“Y/n”, Kakashi’s voice breaks the silence after a while. You turn your face to see him looking at you, a solemnness in his eyes, almost as if he’s scared.

“You’re okay, right? I didn’t…hurt you or anything? Please don’t be afraid to tell me whatever you feel. I love you...I hope you know that, even though I may not say it that often. And I really hope that last night was just as great for you as it was for me.” He finishes, his tone genuine but tense.

The sincerity in his voice tugs at your heartstrings. No one has ever cared for you so much before. But then, no one before was Kakashi. You’ve been with guys before, but none of them ever made you feel the way Kakashi did. And you didn’t care much for how they made you feel either, they’d meant nothing to you. But Kakashi… he was perfect in every way. He was so considerate and patient with you, making sure you were okay and having a good time every step of the way. He had never even rushed you to do anything despite the two of you being together for almost 6 months now. He had never so much as hinted at anything.

You reach out and put your hand across his cheek, stroking it lightly.

“Kakashi… last night was the most beautiful night of my life. You were great. And I’m FINE. Better than fine. I’m really happy, and I’m glad last night happened. And i do know how much you love me. I love you too.” you say smiling as you stroke out the frown lines on his face. 

Kakashi’s eyes soften, relief flowing over his face, smoothing out his features. A strange stiffness that you had noticed in him all this while vanishes and Kakashi looks like himself again. Even better, he looks happy. He beams at you, leaning over and placing a kiss on your lips.

“Well, how about some breakfast? I’ll make you your favorite.” Kakashi asks, sitting up on the bed now.

“Oh no, that’s fine, you don’t have to. I actually better get going. I have a lot to do today” you say, sighing, sitting up yourself.

“No, you don’t” Kakashi says, flatly.

You look at him, befuddled. “What do you mean? Yes, I do. I have to get my laundry, do some grocery shopping, organise my kitchen cabinets, clean my—”

“It’s all taken care of.” Kakashi answers, in the same flat voice.

“Huh?” you look at him, your face scrunched up, completely confused.

Kakashi laughs at the look on your face and takes your hands in his.

“Well, Y/n…I really wanted to spend the day with you. We hardly ever get off days or get to spend much time together. I wanted to spend time with you today so I got some clones and my ninken to care of all that for you”

You look at him, open mouthed, completely speechless.

“what did you- how did you even know what all I needed to do?”

“just saw the to-do list on your refrigerator last time I was at your place” he shrugs.

You gape at him, trying to process.

“Wait a minute, you really got Pakkun to agree to do my CHORES?”

 “Well...” he pauses for a while… “eventually.” “you know I can sweet talk anyone into anything” Kakashi finishes, with a sly grin and a wink.

You laugh, staring at Kakashi in awe, completely caught off guard by all of this.

As the initial shock and confusion of the situation subsides , a sense of relief floods through you. You feel a little guilty for feeling this way but the realization that you now have no chores to do for the entire day and are free to spend a whole day with your boyfriend makes you way too happy to mull over that right now. Both your heart and your mind feel free of any worries. It’s just you and him now.

You crawl closer to Kakashi, climbing over his extended legs and positioning yourself on his lap. You wrap your arms around his neck, as his back rests against the headboard.

A mischief filled smile plays across your lips as you look deep into the eyes of the copy ninja.

“Well then...how about I sweet talk you into joining me for a shower right now, to properly express my gratitude... and then we can make breakfast and spend the rest of the day together?”

Kakashi pulls you in with a jerk, gripping your hips in his hands and returning your smile.

“no sweet talking necessary for that.”

[pies-writes-and-more]

accidentally ruining relationships

Word Count: 3,851

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Warnings: a very stupid Bucky? some terrible humour by yours truly? lol all fluff though I promise 

A/N: PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ON ANY SITES WITHOUT MY PERMISSION! (Reblogs are totally okay!) Look at me posting a WIP that’s been sitting in my drafts for literally forever haha. I hope you guys like it, I love these two idiots so much <3

(Not my gfif, creds to the original creator!!)

Y/N groaned, lying on her stomach and pushing herself into the pillow beneath her, burrowing her face into the fabric in hopes that she could suffocate herself and be done with this world.

“Doll, it’s okay. Breakups happen. I’m sorry I wasn’t here when it happened.” Bucky apologized, rubbing his hand against her back from where he sat next to her on the bed. He had just come back after a three month long international mission, only to find out that a few days he had gone off comms, Y/N and her recent boyfriend had broken up. The soldier moved his hand move to her hair, playing with a few strands like he usually did when she was in need of some calming energy . “I thought you were thinking about breaking up with him anyways.”

“I was,” Y/N frowned tightly, pulling her face from the pillow and looking back over her shoulder at her friend. “That’s not why I’m upset.” She sighed as she thought about it for a moment, wishing that talking about these things didn’t make her feel so frustrated again. Over the last few months, she had been healing, getting over the typical breakup feelings, but she knew that deep down, this relationship had been all fake anyways.

Bucky waited for a moment with raised eyebrows as Y/N moped further into her pillow. “So… why are you upset?” He finally asked after she didn’t continue.

Y/N huffed and pushed herself up off the bed, sitting up to look at him, “The problem is I expected to feel something... he broke up with me in the worst way, over a fucking phone call, and I feel nothing!”

Bucky blinked, watching as she whined and fell back into his bed. “And... that’s... bad.” Bucky responded slowly, attempting to catch up in her thoughts.

“Yes!” She exclaimed, her bottom lip pulling into a small pout. “It means that I just spent months of my life with this guy who literally made me feel nothing.”

Bucky thought about it for a moment before lying down next to her. “I mean it only happened a few weeks ago. Maybe you’ll feel it later.” He suggested, nudging her playfully.

“Maybe,” (Y/N) murmured, though she knew she wouldn’t. It had been a long time since she felt anything towards her now ex-boyfriend. Or anyone else really, and she had known this even before she met the newest ex. She had tried to bury it, tried to deny it, but it always came back the same way. She was in love with someone else.

The two laid in silence for a while, until Y/N’s fingers clicked onto her phone screen and found a playlist called ‘For the Brokenhearted’. Soon, soft melodies floated in the air, lyrics that made Y/N’s heartstrings feel numb. She felt guilty that she felt nothing, felt upset that there was nothing left over.

“Bucky?” Y/N asked after a while, glancing over at him. After the months he had just gone through, Y/N knew that he was probably sleep-deprived and mentally and physically exhausted, so she wasn’t surprised at all to find his eyes closed. But since there wasn’t his usual falling-asleep twitch in his leg, she knew he was awake.

“Mm?” The sound made Y/N’s lips turn into a small smile, watching the flutter of his eyelashes.

“Have you ever been in love?”

Such a simple question and yet, Bucky felt like he had just been smacked in the stomach, as if all the breath had just been knocked out of him. “S-Sorry what? Me?” His eyes opened to look at her, gazing at her thoughtful expression.

“Yeah,” (Y/N) nibbled on her inner cheek, a nervous habit of hers that Bucky had started noticing the first day they met. “Like heart skipped a beat, smile at the mention of their name, cheeks rosy when they look at you, giggles in your throat kind of in love,” Her voice was lofty, matching her head-in-the-clouds sort of facial expression.

Bucky scratched his head slightly, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to understand why she was asking, “That… sounds super specific,” he commented slowly, but he knew exactly what she was talking about. He had felt all that and more, starting the very moment he had met her, how could he not?

“I’m scared it doesn’t exist... every time I think I’m in love, it doesn’t work out. I feel flutters with someone and I think hey maybe these are the right kinds of butterflies in my stomach but it turns out I was just looking for something that wasn’t even there,” She sighed, turning onto her side so she was facing him and taking his hand, her fingers playing with his. “I don’t want the next guy I think I’m in love with to turn out to be an ass too. What if I think he’s this super amazing guy, like all the others, and it turns out he’s the worst person I could ever be with?”

Bucky thought for a moment and turned his head to watch her. “One day, you’re going to find some super cool, awesome guy who’s going to treat you like the queen you are, doll. You’ll know it when you’re with him… it’s like magic. Or a puzzle piece. You’ve got to find the person who fits you and your heart just right. Can’t just shove some other piece because it just wont work. But when you find them… it’ll just click.”

There was a pause filled with a sort of tender love in the air, coming from the romance that filled Bucky’s voice as he talked. Y/N watched his eyes sparkle and they shared a gaze for just a moment that made Y/N’s insides turn.

“But until then, you and I can hang out and gossip,” Bucky added in playfully, a smirk on his lips.

Y/N smiled, eyes dropping nervously away from his his but they kept falling t o his lips, as if unable to stop herself from investigating those incredibly kissable lips, “I don’t know how I’d live without you, Bucks.”

He grinned hearing those words, hoping she couldn’t feel his heart racing, “Well lucky for you, you’ll never have to.”

“Until some girl comes and sweeps you away from me,” she tried to laugh, tried to make that smile on her face as genuine as possible because he deserved to be happy. She wanted him to be happy. Somehow, not one single girl that had crossed paths with Bucky had seemed to catch his eye, all of them absolutely stunning. If they couldn’t make Sergeant Barnes swoon, the kind of woman that would must be out of this world incredible.

“Awh come on, no one’s going to be taking me away from you. Not anytime soon.” Bucky’s shoulders gave a simple shrug as his eyes started to close blissfully again, not noting the sadness growing in Y/N’s eyes as she thought about the kind of woman that could make Bucky Barnes feel the way that she herself felt about him.

For just a moment, Y/N watched as he breathed quietly. Her eyes admired every freckle, every piece of hair, every little part of him that she could. She could very much be in love with this idea of something she didn’t know, something new, she was aware of that. She had been so scared that she was just falling in love with Bucky because her relationship didn’t work out and she found solace and comfort with him.

But it wasn’t just because of this asshole breaking up with her. The more she thought about how she felt about Bucky, the more she thought about how often she had waved the idea away with I’m not good enough for him… but that wasn’t really saying she didn’t like him.

And there was more than just what he was like with her. She loved the moments he thought no one was watching, the way he smiled seeing families play together at the park, the immediate need to help someone when they needed it, like that time he had brought home a litter of abandoned kittens.

There was just something about him.

“You’re staring,” Bucky’s voice and cocky smirk broke her out of her thoughts, his eyes not even bothering to open.

“Can’t help it, you’re far too gorgeous,” (Y/N) shot back, hoping her playful tone would hide her true feelings as she quickly turned to her phone to find more music. She begged the universe to keep his eyes shut, hoping he wouldn’t notice how nervous she got all of a sudden.

Bucky peeked an eye open at her words, smirking slightly, “Says the most perfect girl in the universe,” he tested. He just wanted to see that smile once more.

And there it was. Her lips turned into a bashful smile, her lower body squirming shyly. Bucky closed his eyes again, smiling as he saved the picture of it in his mind somewhere.

He felt her shift on the bed and suddenly there was a weight on him. He opened up his eyes to see her straddling his waist, staring at him. “Oh I’m sorry, did I wake you?” She teased, the playfulness in her eyes sparkling.

Bucky swallowed hard, feeling a deep lust for her itching inside of him. His thoughts wandered off for a moment, imagining different scenarios in which she was straddling him. “Nah, can’t fall asleep. Gotta watch after you and that broken heart of yours,” he finally managed out with a smile.

He watched as she slowly leaned down towards him, her eyes hiding a curiosity behind them as they followed his facial expressions. Their faces were so close at this point, Bucky couldn’t help but think about kissing her. Showing her that no other guy she’s dated was worth her.

Y/N moved some hair out of her face as she continued to examine his expression, his eyes, his lips. She couldn’t tell what had come over her, where this confidence had come from, but here she was, closing in the distance between their lips. Bucky’s eyes saw her gaze flicker towards his lips and the back to his eyes. Were they thinking the same thing?

“AND THEN WHAT?” Sam asked with wide eyes, watching as Bucky paced up and down his room. He was at the very edge of his seat, as if Bucky was retelling the most dramatic story of a lifetime (which he was)

“And then nothing!” Bucky groaned, shaking his head. He let out a sound of frustration, kicking at the air.

“What do you mean nothing? Sounds like she wanted to kiss you.” Steve’s eyebrow raised in confusion, leaning back into the couch he and Sam were sitting on.

Bucky sighed and after a moment, he finally threw himself onto a nearby chair, “I couldn’t do it, Stevie. She just went through a breakup. How is that fair of me to take advantage of her feelings like that?”

“I mean, you could’ve been her rebound.” Sam offered. “And then she just so happens to fall in love with you. You two get married, have kids, be disgustingly adorable-”

“That just sounds like I’m using her emotions to my advantage. She deserves better than that.” Bucky sighed, putting his head in his hands. “That was my one chance, wasn’t it?” He moped.

“Bud, everyone can see that you like each other. There’ll definitely be another time for it. Maybe when she’s not dealing with a breakup,” Steve nudged his friend, attempting to be comforting. “It’s only been a few weeks, give it some time.”

“I mean to be fair though, maybe that was her trying to tell you that she likes you and when you didn’t kiss her, she took it as you not liking her. I mean she did make the first move,” Sam thought out loud. Steve grabbed the pillow seated next to him and swung it out right beside him, hitting Sam smack in the face, glaring at the now laughing Sam Wilson as Bucky let out a whine.

“Dammit!” The dark haired soldier yelled out, his voice echoing into the room, thinking through his options. “The hell do I do now?”

“Well what happened after you didn’t kiss her?” Steve asked as Bucky hit his head against the back of the chair frustratedly.

Bucky sighed and looked over at him, “She just smiled kinda sadly and said she wanted to go talk to the girls or something.”

“Okay so why don’t you ask her if she wants to go get some snacks or something from the grocery store. Do that movie date thing you guys normally do.” Steve shrugged, not at all worried by the situation. He had seen the lovey-dovey glances these two sent each other all the time, and to be honest, he was getting so sick of it. It frequently disturbed meetings, ruined plans on missions, and right now, it was ruining what was supposed to be a peaceful Sunday night. With his luck, this would continue for a long time, so there was so need for his best friend to be worried.

Before Bucky could decide if it was a good plan, there was a knock on the door and Y/N peered in. “Bucks?” She blinked, surprised to see the three men sitting around and Bucky looking depressed. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”

“Not at all,” Sam smirked. “Sorry to hear about Johnny...Mark...Marcus?” He offered, stretching his mind.

“Tommy.” Y/N responded with a laugh.

“Right, Tommy... the... doctor?”

“Dentist,” Y/N laughed, raising an eyebrow in his direction. “Seems like you put in so much effort to remember my dates, Wilson,” she teased.

“What can I say, I just don’t think they’re that memorable compared to other guys,” Sam grinned, wiggling his eyebrows in Bucky’s direction when she wasn’t looking. “Well, sorry anyway,” Sam added in with a smile.

“Aw, don’t be sorry,” (Y/N) shrugged, sighing as she let her thoughts lead her words, “Any boy who breaks up with me over working here, isn’t really worth it.” The words spilled out before she could stop herself, smiling brightly until she noticed all the boys turning to look at her with wide eyes. “What?”

“He broke up with you because you work with the Avengers?” Steve frowned tightly. “What’s wrong with working with us? Did we do something? Is he one of those guys that doesn’t like us?”

“O-Oh-” (Y/N)’s eyes widened, “U-Um like, partially because I work with you guys.”

“Who the hell doesn’t like the Avengers?” Sam scoffed. “What’s so wrong with working here?”

“I-It wasn’t so much working with you guys as it was... you know...living with you.” Y/N admitted nervously, avoiding Bucky’s gaze as she desperately tried to put out a fire she started but only really making things worse. He stared at her hard and she knew it was because he was surprised she hadn’t told him this earlier.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Bucky’s voice was quiet but it sent a little shiver down Y/N’s spine. Sam and Steve shared a look, attempting to sink back into their seats, twiddling their thumbs.

“It’s not really that important,” Y/N told him quickly. “He just...got jealous that I’d be hanging around you guys and that I’m always with you and that I talk about you all the time and-”

“So it wasn’t so much the Avengers he was jealous of, but...Bucky?” Sam sat up straight as he spoke up, trying to contain the smirk on his face but it was hard. He didn’t need any clearer sign than that that these two were pining after each other - even Y/N’s idiot ex boyfriend could see that. Bucky’s face lit up like a tomato, which made it harder for Sam to contain any laughter.

“I-I mean...” Y/N scattered for a good excuse. Tommy had hated her relationship with Bucky and always felt like he came second to him... he wasn’t wrong.

“Did I do something?” Bucky asked nervously, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to come between you and your relationship-”

“No no!” Y/N burst out, shaking her head, “Please don’t think like that. It’s not like this is the first time it’s happened!” She laughed nervously, but the boys were still staring at her. Goddammit, stop talking! she begged herself, letting out a quiet groan when she realized what she had admitted.

Bucky’s heart was falling. So he had been the reason for all those nights she cried and wondered if she’d ever find love? “It’s happened before?” Bucky asked slowly, shoulders falling. “Fuck, how many of your relationships have I ruined?”

“Bucky-” Y/N started.

“I think this is our cue to leave,” Sam mumbled, nudging Steve’s arm. The two of them patted (Y/N) on the back before sliding out, Sam sending Bucky a supportive grin and a thumbs up before closing the door behind him.

“How many?” Bucky asked again, standing up stiffly.

“What?”

“How many times have I ruined a relationship with a person you really liked?”

Y/N swallowed hard, her mind racing as she tried to find the words to explain what it had all been about, “Bucky please, it’s not what you think-”

“Not what I think? You’ve been in and out of flings and relationships this whole time and now you’re telling me that this isn’t the first one to end because of me? What did I do? Is it because I’m around you lots?” Bucky looked angry and desperate for answers. Y/N’s heart broke seeing him like this, unsure of how to explain.

“B-Bucky, please, let me explain-”

“Damn, what kind of friend am I to be in the way of all your relationships? How could you not tell me? You could’ve told me to back off or something! How many of them did you actually like and I fucked it up?” Bucky ranted, his voice raising.

“Bucky stop!” Y/N yelled, eyes desperately following him. “I-It’s not like that. It’s not just because we’re always together. These guys just get jealous and...and...” Y/N swallowed hard, trying to figure out what to say. Was now a good time to admit all the feelings that were bottled up?

“Jealous of what? Of how you spend time with me here? Of how you take care of me? Is it because of who I was? Because of what I did?” Bucky pleaded, begging for answers. Why wouldn’t she just tell him the truth? “All those nights you spent in my room, crying over boys, and it turns out it was just my fault all along-?”

“Bucky Barnes, it’s because I’m in love with you!” (Y/N) yelled out, a desperate attempt to pull him out of spiralling.

Bucky’s eyes shot over to her, wide as he processed her outburst. There was a dead silence as the two of them stared at each other.

“You what?” His voice was barely louder than a whisper.

Y/N sucked in air, heart pounding against her chest. There was no turning back now. “I-I’m in love with you, Bucks... and they all knew it. I tried to play it off as them just being jealous of my best friend being a guy but... I’ve always known I was in love with you. Even the girls knew,” she sighed, thinking about how Nat and Wanda were so relieved to finally hear Y/N admit she may have feelings for the soldier.

Bucky suddenly felt incredibly lightheaded. He searched her expression for any sort of sign that she was lying, but she sounded so genuine. “Y-You can’t,” he told her softly. “Not me.”

(Y/N) felt defeated, her heart was falling every second, “Because you don’t love me back,” She stated softly and Bucky’s eyes looked like they would pop out of his head.

“No! Of course I’m in love with you, doll, who the hell wouldn’t be?” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. His shoulders fell from his normally straight posture, eyes dropping to the floor. “My heart’s been yours since the first time you smiled at me. But what could I give you? I’m an old man, I don’t understand anything you grew up with, anything we’re going through right now. Not to mention the obvious,” he scoffed, closing his eyes slightly. “I couldn’t live with myself if one day I snapped back and you were scared of me.”

(Y/N)’s heart was in turmoil. On one hand, he had just admitted he loved her too. Her heart soared at the thought of them being in love, at having a chance to be with her best friend. And then it fell. Bucky was stepping away from her, as if distancing himself would do anything. “I can take care of myself,” she said firmly, frowning at him. “Do you really love me?”

Bucky looked at her with a sad smile, moving to sit on the armrest of the couch. “With everything this broken body has.”

“Then kiss me,” she demanded, surprising herself with how confident the bold statement sounded.

Bucky stared at her for a moment, his fears and his feelings mixing together. He was in such turmoil, watching as she stepped closer moving to stand between his legs. “Doll, I-”

“Do you not want to?” She asked quietly, watching his eyes. She needed to know how those lips felt on hers, if the spark that she had fantasized about was real.

“Of course I want to-” He insisted, searching her earnest eyes. “But what if-”

“Then kiss me, Sergeant.”

Bucky watched her for a moment, deciding that this was the one moment that he got. Steve told him that he deserved to be happy, especially after everything that happened. Did he? Did Bucky Barnes, a trained assassin that became a murdering tool deserve to be happy? He stared at this woman standing in front of him, a glow on her skin after such a passionate confession, eyes fiery with confidence and demand.

“Fuck,” Bucky muttered to himself. He stood up swiftly, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her to him. And he did it. He kissed her. His lips eagerly pressed against hers, her arms finding their way around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer.

It was everything the two of them had dreamed of and more. Y/N thought about all those people who said you know it’s love when there’s sparks flying. The comical idea of fireworks off in the background played in her head as his lips moved along hers. It was magical, it was fantastic, it was everything.

The two pulled apart for a moment, eyes fluttering open to see each other, to make sure that this wasn’t just a dream, “I really really like you, Bucky Barnes,” Y/N whispered against his lips, pecking them again gently.

Bucky smiled, brushing her hair from her face as he tried to bring himself back to earth. There was no way a girl like this wasn’t an angel, he had to have been brought to Heaven or some etherial plane,“I really really really like you too, Y/N Y/L/N.”

** ** ** ** ** ** **

I hope you guys enjoy this!! I’ve been toying with this WIP for a while now and just figured it was time to post it :) Please let me know if you like it! I love to hear from you all!

Masterlist

[konohababy]

a losing game | iwaizumi h.

warnings: mentions of sex but nothin explicit word count: 1.2k notes: cliché plot line but i wanted to do my take on it bc i just be writing out here,, but i suggest listening to this song by NIKI while ur at it too :)

‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.° ｡˚𓆛˚｡ °.𓆞 ·˙‧̍‧̍̊˙· 𓆝.°

I love you.

The words claw at Iwaizumi’s throat every time your fingers brush against his, desperate and hot as his mouth drags along the delicate skin of your neck. He’d say it a million times over if you’d let him, kissing poems onto your lips that’ll leave you breathless even after you leave his apartment in the morning. He’d burn the words into your memory if he could, writing you love letters to list out the reasons why he broke his promise, and why he’s been lying to you about it ever since. But instead, he’s leaving bite marks across your body, figuring that the shallow bruises of blue and purple are as close to bleeding droplets of ink as he can get. He’s pressing your back against that one awfully gray wall of his apartment, knee between your legs as you reach for the button of his jeans and he’s thinking that this is as good as it’ll ever be. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love with you, you’d made that clear. But he did anyway, crossing that line only to find himself straying further and further from it each time you show up at his door. 

I love you.

It’s just sex. Iwaizumi’s heard the words spill from your lips countless times before and he supposes it’s his fault he never really listens. To him, you’re more than just a fuck. He wants to be able to walk down the street with his hand in yours, his name laced into your heartstrings. He wants to hold you when your clothes are on, your chests touching through heavy fabric, and know that at the end of the day you won't be walking out the door to a life that doesn't involve him. He wants to write you those love letters, those poems, and not have you regret a single word of it. He wants you, all of you, but he finds that there will never be a good time to tell you this. 

I love you.

There’s a shift after he introduces you to Takahiro Hanamaki, something that can only be compared to the feeling of moving all the furniture in your house two steps to the left—the feeling that things aren’t quite the same as before. Because the way you look at Hajime now pales in comparison to the way you look at Makki, eyes gleaming with a certain brilliance that Iwa had once thought was reserved for him. Your sleepovers at his apartment begin to lessen, with you instantly scrambling to gather your things the moment you catch your breath. The kisses you press against his jawline afterwards are absentminded, no longer filled with the care and sweetness they used to have. You start to flake on the dick appointments you set up, apologizing profusely over the phone because Makki’s always somewhere waiting on you. He knows it’s because you’re better, happier with his strawberry blond friend, and Iwa’s in no position to feel pissed about such a thing but if he’s digging his own grave then fuck it. Seeing you fall in love with someone else will never sit right with him, but it’s not his job to love you.

I love you.

Iwa’s gotten skilled at pushing the words back down his throat, letting them die in his stomach before they ever pass his lips. Things are beginning to get serious between you and Takahiro, according to what the boys tell him. It’s only solidified on the days Iwa’s hips still against yours and you’re pressing your foreheads together, panting, whispering something along the lines of, "We shouldn't be doing this." But you still continue to show up at his door and he’ll still continue to dig the whorls of his fingertips into your body, pushing himself inside you as you breathe out his name and clutch onto his arms. He knows it’s stupid to get his hopes up during these moments, for searching for meaning between your soft smiles and gentle laughs, but the words he wants to hear never leave your mouth and it’s enough for him to know it’s just his imagination. He’s playing a losing game now, one where you’re pulling all the strings and peeking at his cards, and he won’t hesitate to play into your hands time and time again if it means you’ll stick around for just a moment longer. 

I love you.

“You can always stay the night, by the way,” Iwa breathes out one night, collapsing into bed beside you. “It’s not like you’ve never done it before.”

You turn to face him, face aglow with the aftermath of sex before pressing an apologetic kiss to his lips. “You know I can’t. Makki’s waiting for me.”

Iwa scoffs, sitting himself up in bed as you rise to gather your clothes off of the floor. “Makki didn’t just fuck you into oblivion either.”

A teasing smile pulls at your lips then, glancing at him after you shuffle your shirt over your head and tug on your pants. “Look, Haji, I know you’re in love with me, but I gotta go.”

It’s a just a joke to you, but he wonders if you know that it’s also nothing but the truth. Iwa slumps against his headboard and tugs the blanket over the lower half of his naked body as he presses on. “If I admit it, will you stay?”

“Nope,” You grin, narrowing your eyes at him with a challenge. “But I’m not opposed to hearing it.”

He watches you fix yourself in the mirror, patting your unruly hair into place and smoothing out your clothes, erasing any hint that you’ve been here with him. He swallows, hating how much the gesture makes his heart ache.

“What’s the point if I know I won’t hear it back?”

You grab your keys from his bedside table, smiling. “Try me.”

He bites his tongue. 

I love you.

“Get going idiot, before he realizes something’s up.”

You laugh then, offering him one last kiss before you’re sliding out the door, leaving him alone in his apartment. He closes his eyes, picturing your bare figure beneath his sheets, glowing in the silver moonlight as the shadows of his blinds drift across your skin. He's imagining your shoes sitting in their usual spot by the front, your bag tossed casually on his kitchen counter, and your favorite flavor of ice cream sitting in the freezer—an image of something close to a domestic life with you. He knows it’s out of reach, but he’ll keep pretending for as long as you let him.

I love you.

It’s not until another two months pass that you decide you’re done playing.  You’re folding your cards and cutting the strings, throwing Hanamaki’s hoodie back over your head one winter morning as you’re getting ready to leave the warmth of Iwa’s apartment after an accidental sleepover. He’s observing you in silence from the kitchen table as he sips on his coffee, noting the way your eyes dull at the sight of yourself in the hallway mirror, how you sheepishly fix your hair back into place, fingertips distant and face solemn. There's light breaking around your shoulders when you reach for the door, turning towards him ever so slightly as your gaze drops to the ground.

"This is the last time, Iwaizumi," is the only thing that you manage to say in the moment.

And despite the fact that he's heard those words before, he can only nod in response. He knows you mean it this time. And all the words he's been meaning to say seem to get caught in his throat as you step outside and gently close the door behind you.

I love you.

[cakesunflower]

Reach For You [Dad!Calum AU] Ch. 10

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9

Chapter 10

GETTING A GOOD night’s sleep just didn’t seem to be in the cards for Aspen, it seemed, ever since the night she told Calum the truth. Ever since the night they slept together. It had been days, and she felt like a zombie when she went to work, not entirely there and just absently doing what she was supposed to, as if her duties had been pre-programmed into her mind. But her thoughts were all on Calum, on what she did, on what the consequences of everything would be. He hadn’t spoken to her, didn’t try to reach out, and she didn’t push it. What she had told him had been a lot, to say the least, and she was well aware it would take him a while to process everything. To comprehend that, while Aspen was to take the blame as well, it was his own mother who put everything into action.

His reaction had any semblance of resentment she may have felt for Calum melting away, not for the first time struck with the realization that, at the end of the day, she didn’t have much of a reason to be angry at him. What Aspen was, was nervous. They hadn’t spoken in days and she had no idea what kind of mindset he was in. They had so much to figure out, talk through everything that transpired that night, and Aspen was two seconds away from anxiously biting her nails off to the stub. Never in her life did she want to talk to Calum, to see him, so badly.

Things had already been so rocky between them; now it just seemed like everything worsened tenfold.

“I can’t fucking believe you slept with him!”

And Jodie’s incredulity over everything wasn’t helping too much.

“How many times are you gonna say that?” Aspen hissed, shooting her best friend a look from across the table. They were at Smashburger, both of them on early lunch breaks, as Jodie, for the hundredth time, guffawed in disbelief.

Jodie shook her head. “Until it starts making sense,” she returned with an incredulous laugh. “What the hell happened, man? Weren’t you two just barely tolerating this co-parenting thing? Now he ended up in your fucking bed?”

Aspen let out a breath, dipping her fries in some ketchup as she muttered, “Believe me, I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, too.” Though, Aspen very much doubted she’d be able to comprehend it at all, since so far she was still thrown in for a loop.

She didn’t necessarily regret what happened between her and Calum, but she was conscious of the fact that it could definitely make things a lot more complicated. Throw in the fact that Calum now knew of what happened that led to Aspen leaving him, and she just was not sure what to expect. He had left in a rage and hadn’t spoken to her since, leaving her stomach in knots since that night. Calum was the only one who could undo them.

Later in the day, Aspen’s shift ended and she had planned on running some errands before heading home when her phone began ringing. When she saw that it was Luna’s school, Aspen’s heart thumped as she answered the call, still sitting in her car in the parking lot of the clinic. And when she hung up, Aspen headed straight for the school, grip on the steering wheel tight as she wondered what possible incident could’ve happened involving Luna that required her to come in during the middle of the school day.

The secretary had said it involved another student, and Aspen clenched her jaw because she had a pretty good idea who that student might be.

When she got to the school, Aspen made her way to the main office after pulling on her jacket over her scrubs, hair now falling over her shoulders as she hurried down the halls. She entered the office, a light buzz in the air between secretaries, as she approached the one that had called her. “Hi, Mrs. Gregory,” Aspen greeted kindly, “I got a call about coming in to see Principal Wallace?”

Mrs. Gregory looked up at her with a smile. “Go right in, Ms. Russo.”

Thanking her, Aspen headed to where Principal Wallace’s office was further inside, pausing when she sat the two girls sitting on chairs opposite of each other in the small hallway. Aspen took in a breath at the sight of Brooke Clarkson sitting with her arms crossed over her chest with a frown and pout on her face. She was glaring right at Luna, who sat innocently opposite of her, sitting on her hands as she looked down at her lap. It wasn’t until Aspen neared her daughter that she saw a slight rip in the left knee of her pants.

Her jaw tightened significantly, the sight of even a small scratch on her daughter heating her blood, as she crouched down in front of Luna. “Hi, bubba,” Aspen greeted softly, watching as Luna’s head lifted ever so slightly. She, just like Brooke, had a pout on her lips, though hers was a lot sadder than Brooke’s annoyed one, and Aspen felt something tug at her heartstrings at the sight of her daughter looking so upset. “You okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m okay,” Luna mumbled quietly, dropping her gaze back to her lap, some curls escaping her ponytail and framing her baby face. “Principal Wallace is mad.”

Aspen was quick to reassure her. “I’ll talk to him, yeah? It’ll be okay, baby,” she soothed, hands coming up to rub Luna’s arms before tucking a strand behind her ear. Her gaze dropped to the way Luna was sitting on her hands, before lightly grasping her daughter’s wrists to pull them from under her. Luna resisted, a mumble of a protest escaping her, and Aspen prodded with a gentle, “Luna.”

Luna nibbled on her lower lip and Aspen’s eyebrows drew together, worried, before Luna let her tug at her hands. Aspen turned them over, inhaling sharply as her chest tightened at the sight of the redness of her palms, like Luna had used them to break her fall on the pavement. Her daughter was physically hurt and Aspen was pissed off.

Kissing Luna’s hands, gently said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes, okay?”

Luna nodded, an expression way too somber for a four year old to have still on her face. As Aspen stood up, Luna said, “Daddy’s inside.”

Pausing, Aspen couldn’t help the way her eyes widened at that, her head turning to the door leading to the principal’s office. Calum was already there? Aspen’s heart began pounding. How did he even get here from the city so fast, unless he was already in New Jersey? Aspen tried to swallow down the dryness in her throat, patting Luna’s head before forcing her feet to move towards the door. No doubt she suddenly felt anxious going inside, knowing it wasn’t just Principal Wallace and Brooke’s parents she’d have to face.

But right now was about Luna and her scraped palms and knee, and as soon as that thought came back into Aspen’s head, she pushed away any of her nerves and anxieties and settled on the anger boiling under her skin. Shoulders straight, she knocked sharply on the door once, hearing the principal call for her to come in and she opened the door, three pairs of eyes now on her. “Ms. Russo,” Principal Wallace greeted from where she sat behind her desk, a welcoming smile on her face. “We were waiting for you. Please, have a seat.”

Shutting the door behind her, Aspen’s eyes immediately landed on Calum, leaned back in his chair with arms resting on the wooden armrests, in an unsurprising black ensemble of jeans, boots, shirt and jacket. He didn’t look at her, keeping his gaze on the middle aged woman across from them, and Aspen pursed her lips as she sat down in the chair next to him. There was an open seat to her left, and then at the end was Bailey Clarkson in her fitted jeans and blouse and coat. The other mom side eyed Aspen, who refrained from rolling her own eyes at the sight of her, as Principal Wallace began, “Your husband’s won’t be joining us, Mrs. Clarkson?”

“No, he’s got an important meeting,” Bailey answered haughtily before letting out a dismissing laugh. “Honestly, Principal Wallace, is this even necessary? There was no harm done—”

“Excuse me?” Aspen interrupted harshly, turning to scowl at Bailey, uncaring of Principal Wallace’s raised eyebrows and oblivious to Calum looking at her as well. Aspen was ready to bite Bailey Clarkson’s head off. “Luna’s knee and hands are scraped so I would argue that there was definitely harm done.”

Bailey scoffed, hands gesturing as she argued, “They’re little kids! They get scraped knees all the time, it’s part of being a child.”

Aspen gritted her teeth, incredulous at this woman’s ignorance. “Yes, Mrs. Clarkson, but not when they’re caused by kids deliberately pushing others,” Principal Wallace cut in, her hands linked together on the table as the three parents looked at her. “Several students saw your daughter push Luna off of the swing.”

Bailey let out a breath, giving a shake of her head. “Who’s to say Brooke wasn’t just giving Luna a push on the swing? To go higher, I mean.”

Nails digging into her palms, Aspen was two seconds away from grabbing something and throwing it at Bailey. The woman’s blatant and purposeful actions of turning a blind eye pissed Aspen off, even more so that her daughter was out there with scrapes on her skin. It was one thing if Luna got hurt playing around, it was a completely different story if some kid intentionally hurt her—especially if that kid was one known to harass Luna before.

“Our daughters clearly have issues with one another—it’s obvious they weren’t just playin’ around.” Aspen pressed her lips together at the sound of Calum’s voice, glancing to her right to see him staring right ahead, not even bothering to look at Bailey. His accented voice was smooth, but Aspen could hear the edge in it, could see the muscle in his jaw jumping. She knew he was just as aggrieved about this situation as she was and for a moment, Aspen forgot the shit they were going through and was relieved that, for the first time, she had a partner in a situation like this.

Bailey’s eyes narrowed, looking past Aspen and to the man sitting on the other side of her, lips turned downwards in disdain as she tilted her head. “I’m sorry, but I’ve never seen you around up until a few months ago—how is your opinion relevant?”

Principal Wallace started. “Mrs. Clarkson—”

Calum sat up at that with a glare twisting his features and Aspen could practically feel the fire rolling off his body—or maybe she mistook it as her own, because Bailey’s incomprehensibly rude words had her muscles going rigid in disbelief and offense. Aspen felt the desire to jump to her feet, but she stayed seated, back straight and a fierce scowl narrowing her green eyes. “He’s Luna’s father, why wouldn’t he be here?” Aspen snapped, coming to his defense without a moment’s hesitation. Letting out a scoff, Aspen raised an eyebrow. “At least he’s involved enough in his daughter’s life to actually show up to something like this.”

Bailey’s jaw dropped, clearly not liking Aspen’s insult towards her husband, and Aspen felt a smug satisfaction settle in her veins. She and Calum weren’t married, weren’t together, but he was her partner and Luna’s father. She wasn’t going to let the likes of Bailey fucking Clarkson try to undermine his role in any sense.

“Ladies, please, we’re here to discuss your daughters,” Principal Wallace spoke up, and Aspen pressed her lips together and leaned back in her seat, averting her gaze from Bailey. From her peripheral, however, she could see—and feel—Calum looking at her, his gaze burning her skin. She chanced a glance at him, noticing the subtly stunned expression he wore, probably because he hadn’t expected her to jump to his defense. But neither could think anymore of it because Principal Wallace spoke up once more. “Of course, your girls are just four, five years old but we do take bullying seriously.”

At that, Bailey let out an incredulous huff, “Oh, that’s ridicu—”

Both Calum and Aspen shot her a glare, neither of them wanting to hear anymore from the woman who didn’t want to do anything about the fact that her daughter was bullying their’s. Calum linked his hands together at the bottom of his stomach, though his grip was tight and jaw was clenched. He knew Luna had problems with Mrs. Clarkson’s kid, but the sight of her scraped knee at the hands of someone else, even though it was a young kid, had his body tensing. This was still new to him, and for a moment he felt stupid for being so worked up over it. But seeing Aspen look just as furious made him realize his reaction was justified.

Luna was being bullied by some other little girl and Calum hated that it got to the point of being physical where they were stepping in.

“Which means,” Principal Wallace continued, cutting off Bailey purposefully. “We’re going to be monitoring your daughters for their own goods. Teachers will be advised to keep them apart in class, and I will assign specific aids to keep an eye on them during recess. We want to put an end to this before it escalates even more. The safety of our students is our number one priority, and we will make sure to prevent any more instances such as this.”

Aspen pressed her teeth together, taking a breath before releasing it in hopes of calming herself down. These girls were just little kids so she knew there wasn’t much they could do except what Principal Wallace said as well as making sure Luna was okay. God knows what the fuck Bailey was going to do with her kid—probably nothing, knowing her—but so long as Brooke was kept away from Luna, Aspen would be satisfied.

“If it stops these preposterous meetings, then that’s fine with me,” Bailey huffed, picking up her bag and fixing her coat, raising an eyebrow. “Are we done here?”  

Aspen pressed her tongue against her teeth, refraining the scoff threatening to escape at Bailey. The woman didn’t even fucking care, and it baffled her. When Principal Wallace dismissed her with a sigh and Bailey left, Aspen cleared her throat as she stood up. “Thank you, Principal Wallace,” she said as Calum stood up as well. “Is it alright if we sign Luna out for the day? She looked upset and I don’t really want to leave her.”

Principal Wallace nodded. “Of course, Ms. Russo. Have a good long weekend.” Oh, right. Tomorrow was a teacher’s workshop so school was canceled.

Aspen nodded, shaking her hand with a smile as Calum stepped forward as well, tattooed and ring clad hand reaching out as he shook Principal Wallace’s hand as well. “Thank you for your help,” he said with a nod.

They left the office then, catching sight of Luna still sitting with her backpack on the floor next to her. “Hey, baby,” Aspen smiled. “Wanna go home?”

Luna looked up at her and then at Calum, green eyes wide and a bit afraid as she asked in a timid voice, “Am I in trouble?”

Aspen began shaking her head as Calum spoke up. “Oh, bug, no, no you’re not,” he assured her, his accented voice smooth and gentle and calming as he scooped her up in his arms. Aspen watched how Luna clung to him and he smiled at her, loving and adoring that made Aspen’s heart jump. “Mama and Daddy just wanna spend time with their little star, yeah?” He then leaned towards her, bumping his nose with Luna’s, before grinning, “I’ve got a surprise for you at my place.”

At that, Luna’s eyes lit up, her previous fright and trouble washing away as her hands rested on Calum’s shoulders. The two of them, grinning at each other, were melting Aspen’s heart, too wholesome for her to comprehend. “Really?” Luna giggled excitedly. “Can Mama come?”

Aspen’s lips parted at that; today was Calum’s day with her, and as much as Aspen wanted to talk things out with him, she wasn’t sure if she was entirely prepared—or if Calum even wanted her around. There was definitely still some tension between them, but right now their focus was on Luna.

Which is why Aspen was surprised when Calum glanced at her, his dark gaze raking over her once, expression frustratingly unreadable as he answered Luna, “’Course Mama can come.”

Aspen blinked at him, a bit astonished with wide eyes, but Calum cut their gaze as he bent down to pick up Luna’s backpack. He wanted her to come with? Aspen swallowed the dryness in her throat as they began walking towards the front of the office. She walked behind him, watching as he and Luna talked, smiles on both of their faces, and her stomach churned. Aspen prayed that, after whenever she and Calum had their talk, that things with him and Luna wouldn’t at all be affected.

She doubted they would. So she prayed that things between her and Calum would work out for their daughter’s benefit. At the end of the day, it was all about Luna.

                                                              *****

The drive to the city had been. . . Civil.

After signing Luna out from school, they had to first head back to Aspen’s apartment to get Luna’s things since the long weekend meant she’d be with Calum until Sunday. Calum waited in his car after Aspen parked hers, taking Luna upstairs to change her out of her clothes and putting some ointment and a bandaid on her cut, while giving her a small talk of coming to either her or Calum if any kid tried to hurt her in any way again. Aspen quickly changed out of her scrubs as well before they headed downstairs where Calum would drive them to the city and Aspen would just take the bus back to New Jersey later.

Calum had a playlist made, complete with all of Luna’s favorite songs, Disney or otherwise, and that’s what they listened to on the drive. Aspen hadn’t been in a car with Calum in years, feeling awkward after everything that’s happened with them. Neither of them spoke to one another; if anything, Aspen stayed quiet as she listened to Luna and Calum sing along. The smallest yet fondest smile upturned Aspen’s lips as the other two sang along to the Tangled soundtrack; she’d forgotten how Calum could sing, his voice raspy yet smooth. And he did so happily, grinning at the little girl in the backseat through the rearview mirror, indulging in a duet. Aspen almost felt like she was intruding.

Arriving to the city, Calum parked his car and the three of them made their way up to his apartment, pausing when they reached the door and Calum smiled down at Luna. “Ready for the surprise?”

Lune was practically bouncing on her feet and Aspen smiled at her enthusiasm, wondering what this surprise was. “Yeah!”

Calum chuckled, using his key to unlock the door. As soon as he did so, Aspen’s ears picked up the sounds of something clinking and what seemed like clattering on the floor as they walked in. It wasn’t long until a little ball of black and white fur rushed into view, running up towards them and Aspen’s eyebrows shot up in surprise as Luna giddily cried out, “Puppy!”

Calum grinned as Duke skidded towards his feet, happily sniffing about him as his dark eyes peered up at his owner. Duke then excitedly trotted to Aspen, who was staring at the little dog with wide eyes and parted lips turned upwards in a smile. His own grin lessened a little, watching silently as Aspen crouched down and tentatively reached to pet Duke’s head. Calum held his breath, finding himself hoping his pet didn’t act out because he wasn’t the most welcoming. But Duke practically melted under her touch, leaning his head more into her palm and Aspen let out an almost awed breath.

“Hi,” she cooed, rubbing at his head. “Hi, you’re so sweet. Oh, yes, you totally are.”

Luna glanced between her parents, an excited gleam in her green eyes. “Can I pet him?”

Calum tore his gaze away from Aspen and Duke, the smile returning to his face as he crouched to the other side of his daughter. “Duke’s been waiting to meet you.”

Luna’s smile was bright, a wonderful change from the pout he’d seen her wearing at school and didn’t at all like the sight of. Calum had kind of been waiting for her and Duke to meet, and as Luna’s gentle hands—a lot more than a little kid’s would be—pet a compliant Duke, Calum felt his heart melt and his smile widened as he bit his bottom lip. His left arm rested on his thigh, right hand on Luna’s back as he watched, smiling, relieved to see Duke happily licking at Luna’s chin as she giggled. The sound was sweet, one of Calum’s favorites, as he gazed at his adorable daughter, his heart swelling. They seemed to be getting along already, Duke giddily loving on her and Luna hugging him close.

And as he watched Luna, Calum’s gaze involuntarily flickered, a fraction of an inch, and landed on Aspen. She was smiling at Luna and Duke, an adoring glimmer in her eyes—until she felt Calum’s gaze on her and their eyes locked. The smile on her face faltered a bit, catching sight of his observant gaze; stoic yet. . . thoughtful, and Aspen wasn’t sure how he managed that. Her heart picked up, lips pressed together as she inhaled through her nose. His gaze always rendered her paralyzed, especially when he was so clearly thinking about something. Something having to do with her? Aspen was both hesitant and eager to find out.

Then Calum left her breathless as he asked, almost hoarsely, “Will you stay for lunch?”

“Stay, Mama!” Luna cheered before Aspen could even think of an answer, too stunned to even form one. The only time they ate together was on spaghetti Sundays, and going days without any contact with Calum had her realizing how much she missed his company.

Aspen went five years without Calum. The past few days, she was realizing now that he was right next to her, had just. . . Sucked.

She looked at Calum, trying to find any hits of as to why he wanted her to stay. But Luna had a rough day and Aspen wasn’t quite ready to leave her. “Okay,” she breathed, rolling her lips into her mouth before quickly averting her gaze from Calum to smile at Luna.

She’d already had lunch, but she wanted to stick around for Luna—it was a surprising bonus that Calum was offering.

“Alright, bug, how ’bout you start your homework while I make lunch, yeah?” Calum suggested, and Luna nodded before taking her backpack and running into the liking room, her designated homework spot, as Duke ran after her. Calum’s gaze flicked to Aspen after looking at Luna. “Help me out?”

Honestly, Aspen was getting a bit wary from all this civility. Sure, they’ve been tolerating one another for the past few months, but Aspen had been expecting the cold shoulder or fierce glares, judging by how he had left her apartment the other night. The lack of it was throwing her in for a loop. She was definitely glad there was no yelling, no glares, deciding over the past few days that she didn’t want to fight with him anymore. But, as per usual with Calum, Aspen had no idea what to expect. He’d avoided looking at her at the meeting at school, and now he was asking her to stay for lunch.

Men were weird.

Following Calum into the kitchen after taking off their coats and just double checking with Luna to see if she needed help with anything, which was a no, Aspen stayed silent while picking at her nails, feeling a sense of not belonging. Her eyes were on Calum’s back as he washed his hands, glancing at her over his shoulder as he asked, “Turkey panini okay with you?”

Aspen blinked. He was asking for her opinion? “Yeah,” she cleared her throat. “Sounds good.”

Fighting any awkwardness she felt, Aspen washed her hands after him, listening intently when Calum told her where some of the ingredients were. Aspen got the onions and garlic, before pulling out the greek yogurt and cheese from the fridge. They gathered the ingredients onto the counter by the stove, and Aspen swallowed the lump in her throat as she grabbed the knife Calum offered her and began dicing the onions.

Silence fell upon them, the only sounds coming from their knives chopping, some space between their standing figures. But Aspen could feel his body heat, could smell hints of his familiar cologne over the onions.

“Thank you,” Calum’s gruff voice broke the quiet.

Aspen paused at that, glancing up to her left at Calum, who kept his attention on what he was doing, biceps under the sleeve of his fitted sweater and pursed lips too inviting for this moment. “For what?”

A muscle in his jaw jumped, his focus on the chopping. “What you said to Bailey.” He looked at her then, and Aspen felt her heart jump at the sincere, appreciative look in his dark eyes. “Thank you.”

Aspen swallowed, grip on the knife tightening before offering the smallest smile. “Of course.”

She wondered if he could hear the guilt in her voice.

It wasn’t until they finished mixing the ingredients, cooking the turkey and finished the paninis that the silence broke. After Calum thanked Aspen, they had quieted down once more and continued making the paninis, lose in their thoughts and wondering if they wanted to voice them. Aspen began feeling a bit jittery once they finished making lunch, her nerves acting up because she knew she and Calum had so much to talk about, but she didn’t know what his mindset was. He just seemed all over the place.

As Calum pulled out the mango juice—both Luna and Aspen’s favorite—she found herself blurting, “I’m sorry about what Bailey said.”

Calum paused before closing the fridge, turning to look at her with a frown. “Why’re you sorry ’bout something someone else said?”

Aspen’s throat was dry, once again picking at her nails as she gazed at him guiltily. The question was on his face and for some reason it just made her feel worse. “Because she wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t kept you away.”

The frown on Calum’s face smoothed out in realization, broad shoulders straightening and chin lifting in understanding. Calum could see the regret swimming in her green eyes, the tug of her lip as she most likely bit in the inside of it. It seemed like, for as long as they reunited, the only thing the two of them felt towards each other was guilt, awkwardness, regret, hurt, betrayal, and even a bit of resentment. Constantly walking on eggshells around one another, adjusting to having the other back in their lives. For Calum, it mostly consisted of him trying to move past what Aspen did, occasionally finding himself aggravated for not being able to hate her.

But she wasn’t the only guilty one. It was so much more complicated than what he thought, and he just wanted it to be done. To be settled.

And as he gazed at her, eyebrows drawn together sadly and eyes wide with guilt, he knew she was sorry. There was a time in his life where he knew Aspen better than anyone, and sometimes he still got that feeling, and he just knew that the woman in front of him regretted hiding their daughter with every fiber of her being.

Aspen shook her head, licking her lips and sucking in her breath, neck tensing before she whispered in a quiet, almost broken tone, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” She played with her fingers, taking a tentative, hesitant single step towards him, and Calum’s stomach twisted at the sight of her glassy eyes. “What I did was unforgivable and I’m just—I’m so sorry, Calum. No deserves what I did to you. And I just—I’m a terrible mother for—”

“No,” Calum cut her off, his tone hard and firm, putting down the bottle behind him before taking the few steps towards Aspen. There was a glare on his face, lips turned downwards as he approached her in quick, purposeful strides. She was a bit startled to see the sudden change of expression—she wasn’t sure why, seeing as it wasn’t unfamiliar or unexpected. It wasn’t until Calum continued did Aspen realize why she felt that way.

Calum was so close, making her tilt her head back a bit to maintain their gaze despite the slight burn she felt in her eyes. Maybe it was from Calum’s heated stare. “You’re not goin’ to apologize to me by shitting on your capabilities as a mum, alright? You’re a fuckin’ amazing mother, Aspen, and I’m not goin’ to hear you say otherwise.”

Her lips parted, taking in a shaking breath as her heart picked up at his words. He was defending her against herself and it left her fucking speechless. “Calum—”

“What you did. . .” He interrupted once again, taking a deep breath as he glanced up at the ceiling, Adam’s apple bobbing in his exposed throat before locking their gazes once more. Fuck, he didn’t want to see her cry. “Is in the past.”

Aspen’s eyes widened, eyebrows shooting up as she let out a quiet gasp, and Calum felt light. As soon as he said that, he felt himself relax, like a pressing weight was finally lifted off his chest. God, he didn’t even realize he was. . . Okay. . . Until this moment. He didn’t want to hold onto his anger towards Aspen, wanted it gone, if he was being honest. It was so painfully obvious that she regretted what she did, which was so much more than he could say about his own mother. But for now, his focus was on the pretty, teary eyed woman in front of him, and how he was done holding onto his anger and done pushing her away. Because it was done. It happened. They couldn’t change the past, but he could stop being angry from now on.

“I don’t want to fight with you anymore, Aspen,” he breathed out, his voice familiarly husky as he shook his head subtly at her. “I was pissed about what’s happened but I just—being angry isn’t goin’ to get me anywhere. And besides—” Pausing, Calum looked off to the left, eyes catching sight of Luna doing her homework, the mere sight of her quirking his lips upwards. “I have her now. A few years late, yeah, but I do. And all I can do now is just be the best dad I can be.”

There was an overwhelming sense of both relief and incredulity flooding through Aspen at Calum’s words. He was. . . Forgiving her? The mere thought of that was dizzying, wonderfully so, even if she felt like she didn’t deserve his forgiveness. She may have showed him hostility when he first showed up again, but Aspen knew towards Calum, it was unjustified. He hadn’t done anything wrong, had reacted just as outraged as she had been when he found out the truth, which only helped her realize just how unfair towards him she was being. How he had every right to hate her, to never forgive her.

But he was. And Aspen was slowly learning how to breathe again.

“You are the best dad,” she found herself saying, her words earnest, her hands automatically finding his to grasp. The touch had Calum looking down at their joined hands and then at her, and Aspen’s throat worked at his pretty brown eyes but she didn’t let go. She offered a smile, gentle and assuring. “Luna loves you, can’t stop talking about you. You. . . You give her everything, Calum. You’re a natural at this, you’re. . .” Aspen let out a soft breath, nodding and smiling up at him and hoping he believed her words as much as she believed them. “You’re amazing.”

Calum’s throat worked at Aspen’s compliments, his fingers tightening their hold on her hand, adoring the feel of her skin against his. His skin felt electrified, heart pumping and wondering if it was because of their reconciliation, Aspen’s words, or Aspen in general. A combination of all three, maybe.

Which is why he let go of her hands, before his own came up to cup her face. He felt Aspen take in a sharp breath, brushing his thumbs against her cheekbones, her skin warm and soft as always. His heart picking up, Calum leaned his head down towards her until their foreheads touched, their gazes never leaving one another, the silent so calming and peaceful. He could smell her fruity, delicious scent. “I’m still learnin’,” he responded softly, noses brushing, sending heat through his veins as her green eyes remained on his brown. He loved the specks of gold in her irises. “But you’re already an amazin’ mum, Aspen. Don’t doubt that for a second.”

She took a breath, her gaze dropping to her hands which were now on his chest, fisting the material ever so slightly to keep him close. She wanted him close, needed him to be. With his hands gently holding her face, their bodies so close that all she could smell and sense was him, Aspen fucking missed him.

For five years, she missed him. Everything about him, and she was coming to terms with it at a rapid, breathless force. She could feel his breath, his heart under his chest, and she found herself yearning to feel his lips against hers once more.

“What’re you doing?”

Eyes popping open, Aspen and Calum took a step apart from one another at the sound of their daughter’s voice. Her face warm, Aspen caught sight of Luna lingering in the open entryway, looking up at her parents with bright green eyes and a tilt of her head. Aspen knew they could tell their four year old daughter literally anything and she’d believe them, but she still felt herself flushing as Calum ran his fingers through his hair, and she averted her gaze to stop herself from drooling over his bicep flexing under his tight shirt.

Aspen needed to breathe. Her feelings were attacking her way too fast all of a sudden.

“Uh, nothin’, bug,” Calum chuckled dismissively. “You finish your homework?” When Luna nodded, Calum made a mental note to check it over later and motioned her over. “Come on, let’s eat.”

They moved to where the center island was, and Calum picked up Luna to set her in the middle of it, with Aspen and Calum leaning their fronts against it on opposite sides, each of their plates and glasses in front of them. It was peaceful moment between the three, the two parents watching their daughter happily eat her panini while occasional soft, fond looks were exchanged between them—looks that hadn’t seen the light of day for years.

Calum couldn’t help but feel how right this was. In his kitchen with Duke circling his feet, his daughter and the mother of his child enjoying his cooking. He felt content, more than he had in a long time, feeling lighter now that he and Aspen were moving past everything that happened. Holding onto all that anger wasn’t doing him, or anyone, any good. At least, holding onto his anger towards Aspen. His mother, however, was a different story. But he didn’t want to think about that; not right now, when there was no tension in the air and he could enjoy a peaceful meal with Luna and Aspen.

He couldn’t keep the smile from his face even if he tried.

“Baby, you’re dropping your turkey,” Aspen laughed, putting her panini down and reaching forward to fix Luna’s, who giggled sheepishly as Aspen slid the turkey back inside.

Calum grinned, catching sight of the yogurt smeared on the corner of his little one’s mouth, swiping his thumb as he commented fondly, “You’re so silly.”

Luna shook her head, curls tied back into a ponytail swinging as she replied, “No, you’re silly.”

He stuck his tongue out. “You’re sillier.”

“Mama, who’s sil-sillier?” Luna asked, her little lisp melting both of their hearts as she pouted at Aspen, who’s put Luna’s panini back together again. “Me or Daddy?”

Aspen looked between the two, eyebrows raising and an amused smile forming as both of them looked at her, a pair of brown eyes and green waiting expectantly. Luna was pouting and Calum was smirking as he chewed his sandwich, and Aspen kind of wanted to slap him for looking so sexy while he ate. “Daddy’s definitely sillier.”

Calum coughed out a laugh, swallowing his mouthful as Luna giggled happily, satisfied, while Calum pointed at Aspen as she and Luna high-fived. “Traitor.”

Aspen winked as she took a sip of her juice. “Sisters before misters, Cal.”

His heart thumped, hearing her call him by his nickname after so long giving an unexpected tug at his heartstrings, and he felt himself smile fondly. God, this day. . . It was turning out to be fucking wonderful. No more glares, no more anger, no more back talks. Just the two of them being parents to their daughter. Just the two of them definitely feeling something so much more.

Their moment was broken, however, when knocking began sounding on the front door. They all looked over to it as Calum frowned in confusion, not expecting anyone, as he put down his half eaten sandwich and cleaned off his hands before heading towards the door. He looked through the peephole, and as soon as he did, Calum felt his heart drop to the pit of his stomach and the blood in his veins turn to ice.

His jaw tightened, not even the sounds of Luna and Aspen’s giggles from the kitchen warming his skin, as he reluctantly gripped the doorknob after unlocking it. He didn’t want to open it, didn’t want to do this right now, didn’t want his girls around this.

Calum reluctantly opened the door, muscles and jaw rigid as his eyes landed on the person on the other side of the door. “Hi, Mum.”

tags: @crownedbyluke @gotta-try-something-new @rishlo @bitchinbabylon @ghstofcalum @dxmncalum @letsfxckindance @unsexilexi @calumthoodsyonce @grreatgooglymoogly @therainydays4 @sadbreakfast-club @lifeakaharry @codycasperky2 @biggestslutforcalum @complete-trash-101 @kinglyhemmings @empathycth @friendly-neighborhood-michelle @cxddlyash @checkeredcalum @lovelettercalum @nostalgia-luke @captain-what-is-going-on @slimthicccal @bloodytbs @miahelizaaabeth @ghostofhood @elsysoza @writing-in-riverdale @tourettesboi @angelbbycal @bbteamlove @xoforeverx @stfujace @thebodaciouscth @helplesshood @runawaywithme-xo @lietomemyvalentine @emma070900 @cosmixcalum @babygirlcashton @calumamongmen @5sos-stan4lyfe @ihatemyself21 @lipstickstainfading @crystalisinfinite @misskarynie @wrappedaroundcal @wcstethenights @michealcliffturd @akacalciumhood @clum-thomas @poppedpins @dollbitxhes @5saucewho @hearts-to-the-sky @booklove-2 @walkedhomealone @andreabjoerg @qualitylu @softboycal @early-thoughts @5saucefanfic @dher216 @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you @babyloniancal @xlov3quotingx @aybbblondie @rexorangecouny @flowerchild8341 @romanticalumhood @kaxseychill @babyloncalm @calistheloml @calumh-excess @egyptiangoldhood @irwinkitten @soulmatecashton @gettingjillywithit @asht0ns-world @visualm3nte @xhaileyreneex @cal-pal-cuddles @invisiblexcth @cliffordcntrl @mermaid-merrick @5secondssofssummer @cals-babylons @mysteriouslycali @hoodcentral @cathartichaoss @inlovehoodx @gigglyirwin @roselukes @thepixiedreambitch @calumhoodless @paqueretteash @antisocialbandmate @sunnysidesblog @escap0-with-me @rosa-aurum @thewhitestbitch-u-know @rosecoloredash @biwriting @calteahood @2k17muke @theagenderwhocriedwolf @caelumhood @kinglycalum @fucking5sos @ohhmuke @ghostofch @isabella-mae13 @5secsofsomewhere @meangirlsmum @danielaaaa1997 @tupeloohoneyy @yeah-idk-why-not @sublimehood @shower-me-with-roses @hotmessmichael @xx-cuddlemecalum-xx @pauliip @jetblackyoungblood @astroashtonio @valentinelrh @softforcal @glitterprincelu @meetashthere @youngblood2019 

[imagine-a-killingharmony]

S/O Who Doesn’t Want To Talk About Their Issues (Kokichi, Rantaro, Kaede and Kiibo)

Kokichi, rantaro, kaede, and kiibo with an s/o who doesn’t want to talk about their issues and insecurities, thinking there are going to sound like an attention seeker and that they have a friend who hates it when s/o talks about their problems because they haven’t been through worse than what the friend had. s/o basically starts to think their life isn’t as important to someone who suffers more than just ‘a small deal’ like their own troubles.

Alright... This is a bit detailed so whoever wrote this, anno? I hope your life out there is truly beautiful and going pleasantly, I hope me writing this despite how late it makes your day better if anything remotely or exactly like this happened to you, you know what? Happened to anyone! 

Okay? Never be worried to say your problems, no matter what, sure some people have worst problems than you but that just doesn’t change the fact that what you go through hurts...! Talk to it with someone willing to listen, someone you deeply trust... 

that’s my stupid ted talk... May you have a amazing freaking day!

-Mod Shuichi

Kiibo

Kiibo hadn’t quite understood you... you said you were completely fine on days you cried, said you were doing incredible when you texted him about why you couldn’t come to school, Kiibo had checked on you more than daily about anytime he had seen you “frown” by the hundredth time or so you had to finally tell him about how your issues weren’t problems that needed to be dealt with... they weren’t important, you’d just be soaking up attention.

“E-Eeeh? T-That’s not true at all! W-Who told you that... it’s highly illogical sense of reasoning, when you bottle up feelings like that you’ll only be making yourself feel much worse, there’s already a percentage of how much suffering you can take... you’ve held in such pain for how long (S/O)?”

Despite how you tell him of how none of that even pertains to an inch of how your friend felt, how it really wasn’t that important he held strong, putting his hands onto your shoulders with a strong voice to compensate for any lack of height.

“... (S-S/O!) please... listen to me, look me in the eyes! I wish to be your boyfriend... to be there for you, no matter how harsh the situation shall get, you know this correct...? That’s why... I don’t mind listening to any issues you may have... I only want your happiness... as from the bottom of my... er- antenna I swear that... I’ll listen to you.”

“Antenna...?” You ask, Kiibo’s face goes beet-red as he looked down with a muffled: “that’s robophobic”, he gets down from tippy-toes to put a hand on his hip, with an accusatory finger pointed in your direction.

“I shall remedy the situation is... what I mean to say, so please- let us have a heart-to-heart with one another like real couples do, with holding hands... comforting each other... s-soft... blankets... I-Iii... all that. I promise I’ll listen, I’ll even record it t-to make sure I don’t regret it! I swear!”

Kiibo looks up to you with bright blue eyes filled with determination to make your day feel brighter, you meekly take his hand in yours, he grins at you leading you towards the couch so you could deal with your problems together...

Like a real couple! Which you are...

Kaede Akamatsu

Kaede unlike what most people perceive her as, can usually tell when somebody is feeling... down! She’s very empathic, trying her best to help you open up to her, promising that she won’t tell another soul, promising that it’s seriously no issue since your the one she adores most in this world with a kiss.

“... It’s okay (S/O)... just imagine, do you remember the time I played “Chopin, Spring Waltz for you? Let that melody envelop you in it’s soft hold.” Kaede tugs at you, pressing her head against your heart. “... I always imagine an favorite song of mine whenever I want to cry, but sometimes that’s not enough, we can’t hold everything that hurts inside.”

You try to tell her otherwise, she presses her finger against you mouth with a quiet hum. “... I love you, so much, you mean the world to me... That’s why... it tugs at my heartstrings whenever I see you sad too. Your life means everything to me... I’d trade my life for yours in a heartbeat.”

Kaede’s warmth envelops your entire body, tears drip at the edges of the pianist eyes as she goes to cup your face in her palm, all her touches are with precise care.

“... I won’t judge you, I want to hear what’s wrong, whatever hurts... The caphony that’s raging inside your heart so I can tune it back into what it’s intended to be...” Kaede flashes off that warm caring smile. “... Okay? So don’t worry! Tell me everything.”

Kaede holds you closely, enough so it doesn’t hurt... as you vent all your worries off to her, she’s listening intently to every single word that makes it way out of your mouth promising you that it’ll be okay.

Rantaro Amami

Rantaro wasn’t an fool, he’s already spent enough time with you to know when you aren’t feeling at your very best... that enough made his insides stir, so he tried to help you out... as your boyfriend and all... he knew what it had been to make you so... sad, you bottled up your emotions.

That wasn’t any good, so naturally he brought you to his room on the thought that it was just another “date”, but that was a lie... he began off with the issue at hand, despite how you tried to avoid it... he presented evidence towards how you had been looking terrible lately... you cracked telling him everything from how your issues weren’t a big deal, people suffered more.

Rantaro crosses his arms, an somber look coming into his features... his eyes peer back into your soul. “... Do you really believe that’s the case, (S/O)... I... I’m sorry... that you felt like this, that I hadn’t noticed till now... but...” He takes your hand, his grip is tight, he forces eye-contact.

“... I won’t do that again... okay? I promise, as my role as your boyfriend I’ll make sure you never have to feel like this. I’ll do an better job, so... I need you to know that... thinking your below anyone isn’t good, kay’?”

“... Everyone gets hurt... goes though their fair share of cruelty from the world, even people like me... but I know holding all those emotions all to yourself doesn’t feel nearly as satisfying as... as...” Rantaro looks down to your hands both interwined, he smiled a bit. “... As having someone to share them with, I’ve told you a lot about me... so it’s only fair you do the same right?”

He nervously rubs the back of his neck, he tended to have that nervous embarrassed smile. “... I’m serious, okay? If I see you doing anything like that again I won’t be as nice next time... haha...” Rantaro extend his hands out to wrap you in a tight hug. “... please, know I’m here for you.”

Kokichi Ouma

Kokichi knew when people lied to his face, it had been even easier to do with you, considering how long he had been with you... he could tell these things from first glance, you clearly had a case of: “liar liar pants on fire”! So... as the only liar around these parts he had to do... something about it, tch, so damn annoying.

Hands. They wrapped around your waist, lurched you backwards, it was a normal afternoon, he had asked to come over... You couldn’t see the expression on his face, only felt his face press against your back... his tight grip held you in place.

“... Hey... (S/O) you know, I hate liars don’t you? Loathe em’ with all my heart, only I can lie otherwise it’s not fun... Did you think I don’t know the price of being a liar?” His tongue clicks, his hands loosen from your waist. “... It hurts sometimes, feels weird when you smile like you just went to a carnival when you really wanna cry till the world turns numb.”

“... Liars crush under the weight of those pesky lies, you shouldn’t do that as my special second-in-command you can’t... I need you by my side.” Kokichi’s voice stops... you can hear his chilling laugh after it... “... Soooo... hey. I know I’m not all that trustworthy... but I know what terrible travesty your going though! So... So as your Supreme Leader it’s totes my job to make you feel better for whatever reason...”

“... We can even make it fair-trade, tell me the truth- I’ll give it back in return, promise, look.” Kokichi shows you his hands. “No crossing them, swear- so tell me what’s wrong- it hurts to see you like this you big damn dummy- even more stupid than Kaito-fucking-Momota!”

Wet. Touching your side is oddly wet, Kokichi sniffles, you want to turn around but he puts your head on his shoulder to reveal his slightly tearful face. “... Fess up’ okay? I’m letting you see a gross side of me right now.”

You both connect to each other as you listen to the countless dilemmas that have crossed your way, you grow closer that day.

[piracytheorist]

Colin’s M&G

Long, so under the cut. If you have more questions, don't hesitate to ask ;)

Edit; you're totally welcome to reblog this, if you want it even as a bookmark in your blog. I don't intend to delete it any time soon :)

Ok so this is kinda pointless to point out but. After he sat down and greeted us, he said "Any questions?" and I was like "Lots of them" and held up the paper I'd written mine down on. It was small, but he still went like "Lots of them?" with raised eyebrows and smiled.

The first question was by an aspiring actress who was asking his advice, and he started with self-confidence even when you're being rejected. She also asked him about being a musician and he said that he hasn't given that up, he still loves playing but it's just that his acting career took off. He says he's an actor because he's seen that people prefer seeing him act than listening to him play...

And my ass butted in and said "We want both." And the other attendees laughed and Colin said "You want both? Well, we'll see."

Then someone talked about how they liked seeing him play and sing in The Dust Storm and asked him if he would do it again.

Then the translator started translating the question for the Italian speakers, and when she was done Colin said "Yes." Cue laughing.

And THEN he said "I'm working on something that I can't talk about." And earlier he'd mentioned the Heartstrings thing, that it's a Western with Dolly Parton and stuff... so I'm wondering if it's Fairytale of New York (kinda unlikely since he said he's actively working on it, plus if I'm not mistaken there have been official stuff about him playing in it) ooooooor something else :D

Then someone asked him if he'd like to play in Broadway or something and he said he'd love to even though it's quite different from what he does now... and then he said "Have you got a job for me?" And BISH he did the same when someone asked him something similar in the panels XD I love one (1) nerd. (By the way, in a later panel he mentioned how he would like it but it would also be hard for him)

AND THEN IT WAS MY TURN.

I picked up my paper and Colin looked at me and said "One of the questions!"

So I start. "Some of my favourite moments with Hook were the ones where he was very angsty and even... beaten up and very sad..." At which point he gave me a look and some attendees giggled XD "like the scenes in the Underworld, where he's being tortured. Do you like playing that kind of scenes as much as some of us (I pointed that out lol) like watching them?"

And his first reply was "Yeah, it was fun. I might like it for a different reason than you" I NEARLY DIED DID I SAY I HAD MY COOL I LIED SORRY

And then he said about the makeup he wore in those scenes, that it took about two hours to put on. I asked him how it felt acting with the prosthetic over his eye, and he said it was weird because he couldn't open it - and he even covered his eye briefly with his hand, that peanut - and still ended with "But it was fun, it was great."

AJsjdlshwosehi2bsoaHaigz7fie

Ahem.

(People going to Enchanted, please ask him questions about whump! Let us be heard!)

Then someone asked about how does he choose which roles to play, and he said he tries to envision himself play this character with the script he's given, and if it doesn't feel good for him he doesn't take it.

Then another aspiring actress asked him for advice, and his answer summed up to getting to know your craft and focusing on it.

Then someone asked him if he had the possibility to be another person, who would it be... and though I found it kinda silly as a question it brought up some amazing reactions as he struggled for an answer. Then the questioner limited it to a musician, however the amazing reactions continued, then he finally chose the leading singer of Pearl Jam. And he finished with a "Wow! That took ages!"

AND THEN. AND THEN. A blessed woman asked him about Kiss Me Judas being listed on his IMDB page. And he confirmed it! He did say "I can't say much about it", but he called it one of the best scripts he's ever read. She asked what was it that attracted him to it, cue laughs, and he said he liked how different the character was, how dark the story is, but because it's an independent movie it'll take quite some time to be finished. He said he likes playing characters that push the boundaries, and he started talking about the protagonist (meanwhile I was screaming internally) and of course he added "It'll be fun."

(For a guy who doesn't like taking his shirt off he chose to play a character who gets very very naked, by the way)

The very next person asked him if he would be interested in directing or writing, and he immediately said he'll also be a producer in Kiss Me Judas. He said he'd be interested in directing, if it's something he liked and he could do it well.

Then, favourite scene as Hook and THAT'S where he chose Hook singing to baby Alice. It felt really real for him due to having had a daughter a bit before that. Aw!

The next question was how it's like to have a normal life as a famous person. He said he doesn't think himself as famous. He said he wants to do his job, then go back to his family and - in his own fucking words - wash the dishes. And he said it's easy to have a normal life if you choose to, and he connected that with an answer he gave during the panels about not being very active on social media. He's not the type that will take selfies often and be an influencer, and that helps with him continuing on with a normal life after work.

The next question was how would the show be like if Emma had chosen Neal. He immediately made a face and shook his head. Think of sdcc 2013 where he gave a thumbs down in a similar question. I don't want to make his answer public, because even though it was obvious he wasn't perfectly serious, I have my reservations. Ask me privately for that ;)

But he does miss MRJ.

All the while, the girl who was sitting right next to him was very very nervous and started turning away from him. (On his other side was the translator so that first girl was the fan actually nearest to him) Then he brought his chair closer to her and hugged her!

The next question was what he liked about the fans. He said he never expected to be where he is now... seeing people come and want to turn away from him - and he looked at the girl next to him with a smirk - but he finds it amazing that people respond to something he's doing. He appreciates it so much. Aw!

Next question was about his cooking and what he would cook if he had all of us (20 people) for dinner. He said he has a pizza oven at home and really likes making his own pizzas from scratch, dough, sauce and all that. But he'd probably make roast chicken or beef, since he likes making that too. He cooks every day, he says.

Bruh. A guy who works hard, adores his family, cleans the dishes and loves to cook. Get you a guy who.

Next question was if he'd like to play in a trilogy, like Lord of the Rings or Star Wars and what his relationship to sports is.

He said he loved that aforementioned stuff, but he also mentioned that Hook was a character he was meant to play (Aw intensifies!). He said he loves sports and plays football often.

Then @darkcolinodonorgasm asked him if the blacksmithing was for a role, and he pretty much shut all our expectations down. It's just a hobby.

However I really liked his answer, he said he loves the idea of craft, like with cooking, he loves drawing and painting and generally making things on your own. He even mentioned how some arts have eclipsed due to industry.

I mean, what more can he say to make us adore him?!

He then was asked about his opinion on the finale of the show. He said it was fulfilling, well-done, everything was tied up, and he was happy that they had the opportunity to close the show.

Last question, and actually only people who had already asked before raised their hands to ask. Sadly, he didn't choose me T_T

But anyway it was if he would do a prequel about Hook. He said yes, he loved playing him, but it would have to be right for him to play. He misses the eyeliner.

And that's it. Yeah. It was awesome. 10/10 would spend 270 euros again (though not immediately, lol)

[amazildoessomethingstupid]

Chapter 96: Unspoken Rule

Man I thought it would be a lot longer before I did another of these, but as it turns out I fucking hate in between pages.  Y’know, those pages between the actual good and interesting shit?  Y’know the parts that are in between the fun parts, but you have to have them to actually move characters to the good parts? The parts that are boring and filler?  Yeah as an artist/writer I hate those too and it took me most of the week to come up with a page to make it not boring as sin.  Sadly this means, ANOTHER RANT!  And this time we are taking a look at Unspoken Rule. But before we do, I’d like to share with you the bit of panic that set in and what kind of pressure I had on me when trying to force an update.  For a second I thought that this rant was going to be about…

And I was very, very, scared.

Thankfully a friend notified me that I don’t know how to count, so we’re talking about this chapter instead!  Boy what a relief that was, I thought.  But it seemed a bit disappointing.  I hadn’t heard anything of this page, seems like it’ll be a short rant.  That won’t do.  So I figured, “hey if there’s not much to say.  Fuck it, we’ll do a double feature with the carnival…”

Sadly, I have something to say.

And we start with a good lighthearted joke.  Although, that expression in the first panel throws it off a bit.  The dialogue on the initial read says snark and sassy, but the face says honest concern, but then we show it is snarky.  So the face is just, confusing.  Not worth kicking up a fuss about, but definitely a headscratcher.

Anyway, on to what’s actually happening.  Which is Mike is being nervous and back and forth about wanting to talk to Lucy and apologize.  And it’s so weird to me.  This is such a serious plot point, and major conflict in the story, yet this is played for laughs. And not even good laughs, just hollow jokes it feels almost tasteless.  But not as tasteless as this:

BIG OOF  

Alright guys, see this?

I am absolved of this being uncharacteristically brash and open.  If Taeshi can do that kind of rudeness, so can I.  Lucy is just so cold now, it feels bad.  Not out of character, not unrealistic, just…bad.

But moving from that, we get into these two.   And…

Awww…th-this is actually pretty sad. And engaging.

HEY! I SEE YOU REACHING FOR MY HEARTSTRINGS! YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY!

But seriously, this a very nice scene. It’s kind of touching, and it’s a moment I wish we had more of.  

It’s…actually very nice. The characters are finally airing their grievances, and we’re getting somewhere. I…I actually like th-

OH YOU BACKSTABBING, HACK WRITING, BITCH! ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS RIGHT NOW?!

WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?! WHY ARE YOU STICKING YOUR DICK IN A GAS STATION MILKSHAKE?! BITCH,

ARE YOU FUCKING F’REAL SHAKES RIGHT NOW?!  WHY ON EARTH WOULD YOU FEEL THE NEED TO ADD THAT?!  THIS JUST DESTROYS ALL IMMERSION, I ALMOST FELT SOMETHING THERE FOR A SECOND! BUT THEN YOU HAD TO DO SOMETHING SO DUMB!  THIS ISN’T EVEN ON THE CHARACTER, THIS IS A STRAIGHT UP WRITING ISSUE!  EVEN I WOULDN’T DO SOMETHING THIS DUMB!  IT’S SO OUT OF PLACE!  IT GIVES ME MENTAL WHIPLASH CAUSE I HAVE TO DO A DOUBLE TAKE TO MAKE SURE I’M NOT JUST FUCKING SEEING SHIT! AND YOU KNOW WHAT’S THE WORST PART ABOUT THIS FUCKING PANEL?!

IT’S IN THE PRINTED BOOK! Taeshi saw this, drew it, posted it, and got whatever feedback from it.  Then later came back, saw it, and edited a bunch of things for the book, and decided, “No that’s fine.  We’ll leave it there, that’s perfectly okay.”  And just left it there!  WHY?!  You had a good scene, an actual honest to god, good scene.  And you had to just make a dumb joke, and ruin the whole mood.  This is the sort of bad run and gun cheap gag sort of shtick that you’d expect to see from Volume 1!  Except, even Volume 1 knew when to take itself seriously, and maintain that serious tone!  I mean imagine if this happened in something like Zach’s talk with Lucy.

Any good graces this scene had, in setting up these two working out their problems and moving in a nice direction is thrown out the window now, and for what?!  What’s the purpose?  Why would yo-

Oh…Oh no…

Please, have mercy! You already stabbed my back, please don’t stab me in the heart! Please, not like this!

Aaaugh, no!  Not like this!  Poor Rachel!  It’s not fair I can’-

Wait….

I-is…Is that it?

Are you kidding me?

That’s it?  Two pages?  Really? That’s how you’re breaking it off?  This is how you’re going to stab me? Look, there’s like 3 more inches left in the knife, come on.  Push it deeper.  Twist it, I know you want to.  WHY ARE YOU HOLDING BACK? FUCKING WORK THIS SCENE AND MAKE ME CRY!  

NO FUCK YOU, WE’RE NOT MOVING PAST THIS!

YOU WROTE RACHEL’S BREAK UP. IN

TWO

FUCKING

PAGES!?

YOU WROTE OUT ONE OF THE MOST GROUNDED, HEALTHY, PRODUCTIVE RELATIONSHIPS IN YOUR COMIC IN TWO PAGES LIKE IT WAS NOTHING!  WITH A HORRIBLE ONE-SIDED DIALOGUE, WHERE RACHEL IS TALKING TO PAULO WHO HAS SUDDENLY INHERITED THE EMPATHY AND UNDERSTANDING OF A BRICK WALL!  HOW COULD YOU DO THAT AFTER EVERYTHING YOU DID IN BUILDING THIS CHARACTER’S ENTIRE ARC AND DEVELOPMENT!?  AFTER TRANSFORMING A CHARACTER WHO WAS PORTRAYED AS UNLIKABLE, BITCHY, ANNOYING, SLUTTY, AND DUMB.

To fleshing her out, to be deep, thoughtful, caring, and supportive.  Rachel is my favorite character, and it’s not because she’s a slut it’s because she represented something in this comic that had been absent.  

Natural character development.  That wasn’t brought on by some big event shaking their entire core, and changing them. In fact, one of the best things about Rachel is that despite how differently her character’s reception is from Volume 6 compared to Volume 1, her personality, her attitude, and her core is mostly unchanged.  

She’s still slutty, she’s overweight, she’s silly.  But a big part of why I love her as a character, and why I think many others do as well, is because never does it seem to be a negative to her.  We don’t see her get upset, or self-conscious about her weight, or her sexual behavior, because she’s confident in herself and accepts herself. Not only that, but she’s shown to take charge, stand up and not be afraid to call out what she sees is wrong. And outside of her character…

She was a role model for Paulo.  Unlike Jasmine whose relationship was more Paulo bending himself to fit her lifestyle, Rachel was a character who accepted and supported Paulo’s lifestyle, but at the same time helped steer him to do the right thing.  And in a comic where almost every fucking character is so intent on dancing around their issues and waiting until it blows up in their face, Rachel served as an example of someone who had it together.  A proactive person, who didn’t want to see these characters get worse.

I have ranted and gone off on a lot of decisions and actions that these characters have done, but not once did I ever scratch my head or think twice about something that Rachel did. Her character didn’t need a bunch of insight, and excuses about hormones or “they’re teenagers, lol!” to understand her.  She simply was who she was, and I respect that.

In short…

Despite everything that my history with this comic gave me, the feelings I developed from all the bullshit that has happened in this story, despite all of that.  It was this one character, what she brought to the table, and what she did for the comic and its characters, that gave me something I thought I’d long lost, and never thought I’d ever regain.

She gave me hope in this comic.  That it would finally have its characters be proactive, regain its humor, and bring itself out of the slump it made for itself.  With this character, and the writing behind her, I believed Taeshi was finally on the right track, and was setting up something great that would grow the characters and build upon them naturally.

But that’s not what we got. And the real bitch of it is, this could’ve been a real emotional moment. A well executed front-stab.  We knew it was coming, we saw the writing on the wall, but we still needed to face the music.  It was set up to be a wonderful tragedy, where both parties are well aware of the futility of their relationship.  They understand each other, and why it won’t work, but also don’t want to let go.  And I was going to make a comparison to Two Kinds, because they had a similar scenario with Trace’s wife and the whole idea of moving on is a recurring theme… But looking back I realized something.  I don’t need to bring a comparison to Two Kinds or someone else’s comic, and no I’m not even going to draw a comparison of what I would’ve done in this situation by drawing a comparison to False Idol’s future scene (although I was thinking about that).  No, we don’t need to look too far because you know what the real sad part about this is?

We’ve had this conversation before.

And just look at it. Look how heartbreaking this is.  This is how it should’ve been.  You see that Paulo understands what she’s saying, he knows what she means and how bittersweet their relationship is.  It is one of the best moments from the newer volumes, and their inevitable breakup should’ve been a turning point.  It should’ve marked a big life-changing moment for Paulo.  Where he is sad about how he’s making Rachel feel, but he’s unsure about his own feelings. Maybe Rachel makes the decision for him and breaks it off, and Paulo realizes how hurtful his behavior is, and that he can’t play games with people anymore, that it’s not fair.  It could be the moment Paulo turns a new leaf and becomes more mature, and in seeing that; Rachel can let go taking some solace in knowing that he is a better person now.

But instead we got this…

We’re not even halfway through this god damn chapter. Well where is it taking us now?

Huh…and it seems that the writing is not going to change pace either, I wonder where this is going.

Oh boy, everyone’s getting into teams!  And oh man, Lucy’s going up against Mike!  And boy is this contrived.  And what’s even worse, is that despite how much Taeshi has shunned Volume 1 and its stupid sense of humor, and how shoddy it was.  Volume 1 wasn’t THIS contrived, and when it was, it was pretty tongue in cheek about it.  In fact!

This sounds like something Volume 1 would MAKE FUN OF.  But let’s give the benefit of the doubt maybe it’s not that bad.  It might have something going on, an-

(It’s interesting, I think I have like 3 reaction pics of Sam trying to shoot herself, but this one just can not be matched.  And it’s not even meant for the rants.)

You know what?  I’m not even gonna bother going over this part. No one will be seated during the harrowing “Will they won’t they” inconsequential dodgeball fight. Although I will say,

Not gonna lie, that actually got a laugh out of me.  Good job. Anyway, Lucy catches the ball and wins the game who cares.  But then…

First of all

Look at those arms. Damn Lucy what happened?  You’re looking like two toothpicks in a marshmallow.   But more than that.  Did I read that right?

Yeah!  It’s not like you stopped practicing Martial Arts!  Why would you?  It’s not like you had some serious physical trauma happen to stop you-

OH WAIT!

RECOVERY PERIOD? PHYSICAL THERAPY?  PFFFT WHO THE FUCK NEEDS THAT?  YEAH SURE, YOU’RE TOTALLY FINE AND CAPABLE BEING A FUCKING BLACK BELT IN TAE KWON DO.  SURE!  NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT! WHAT THE FUCK ARE STITCHES AM I RIGHT?

But I’m just combing cotton here, this all just fluff.  There’s really only one thing left to talk about here.

And I’ll be honest.

This.

Is…

Pretty good.

This is honestly really well done.  There’s nothing I can say about this.  It’s a very serious moment, I can feel Taeshi reaching for my heartstrings but I…I’m okay with it.  This was the moment I wanted to see.  Finally these characters air out some of their grievances.  We get insight to how they feel, we are finally getting somewhere. It’s not nice, but it’s progress an-

…

THAT’S THE TH-….

*sigh*

Fuck you too, Taeshi.

Three times.

Three fucking times in one chapter, that you set up something good.  Had a good thing going, and then decided to fuck it up at the end. That’s a new record.  Even when I expected nothing out of this chapter, you manage to let me down.  You astound me with how much you disappoint me.  If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were doing it to intentionally troll me. But I’m not that vain.  Fuck you Taeshi, I’ve said this before but always with the tone of hyperbole, and a bit of optimistic cynicism.  But this time I really mean it.  I have no more faith in you as a writer.  Whatever you come up with, however this ride ends.  I don’t think you will pull it off anymore.  I don’t think you have the competence to tie this up in a proper way.  At one point you could’ve.  At one point, I think you had it in you with the mindset, the creativity, and the emotional drive to tell a well-crafted story.  But not anymore, and I despise what you’ve become.    Let’s get this stupid chapter over with.

What’s next?  What are we doing huh?  What are we getting at?

Oh…

I see.  This is where we’re going huh? That’s what all this was for?

ALRIGHT! Y’KNOW WHAT? FINE! I GUESS THIS IS WHAT WE’RE DOING BOYS!  THIS IS THE NEW DIRECTION FOR BCB!  LOOK! SHE CALLED PAULO CUTE! OMG THE SHIP IS SAILING, DON’T YOU GET IT?  IT’S JUST SHIPPING! THAT’S ALL THAT MATTERS! THAT’S HOW WE’RE DRIVING THE PLOT!

FUCK ALL THAT CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT, THIS IS WHY RACHEL GOT DROPPED!  IT WASN’T CAUSE OF CHARACTERS NATURALLY CONCLUDING RELATIONSHIPS, IT’S ALL BECAUSE LUCY’S HERE AND WE CAN’T HAVE PAULO’S RELATIONSHIP WITH RACHEL CLASH WITH THAT!  SHE’S OUTLIVED HER USEFULNESS! NOW IT’S ALL ABOUT PAULO X LUCY, OR PAULO X DAISY WHICH IS IT?  THIS IS THE REAL DRAMA YOU ALL ARE LOOKING FOR!  THIS IS HOW WE REALLY MOVE THE PLOT AND CHARACTERS!  CHOO CHOO BOYS!  ALL ABOARD THE SHIP!  LET’S JUST GO ALONG FOR THE RIDE WHERE WE GOING TAESHI?  I’M READY!  I DON’T HAVE ANYTHING LEFT TO FUCKING LOOK FORWARD TO OR LIVE FOR!  SO COME ON, WHERE ARE YOU SAILING US?

I give it a 2/10.  Until next time, guys. 

[angelinwhy]

Leaving Hurts Less

Description: Harry is about to go on tour for his second album, and breaks up with girlfriend Y/N, because he doesn’t want to leave her alone with pain. Because after all, him leaving her will hurt less.

Warnings: none!

(Angst and a little bit of fluff!)

Harry wasn't going to deny it. He was completely in love with Y/N, more then he had ever loved anyone before. She was all he needed, and she, him. When he looked at her, he almost felt emotional. She was a literal angel from above, that just filled his world with so much love and light. She was a beacon of utmost happiness and Harry absolutely adored that about her. He was truly in love with her.

They had met two years back. Her, a shy and hardworking university student who was studying art and design, and him, a megastar who had taken the world by storm. In the real world, two people like that wouldn't work. He was busy getting ready to tour for his first solo album after being in a band for a good few years, and she was graduating. People told them it wasn't going to work, but there wasn't any harm in trying was there? So try they did, and they made it work. Despite Harry being in so many different countries and barely being able to see her. Each night they FaceTimed, or texted because of the time zones. Through phone screens, their relationship had developed massively. He even flew her out for the last few dates of tour so she could see him.

And on the last date, they made it official in his hotel room after the show.

Ever since then, the relationship has been filled with nothing but joy. Harry found her the most captivating person ever, he could sit and stare at her for hours on end for her beauty was unlike any other. It was unmatched to the other girls he had dated in the past. He found himself watching her when she slept, when she just sat quietly on the couch sketching away in one of the many pads she owned. And she felt the exactly same about him. He had this alluring and sensual look about him, that absolutely drew Y/N in. Her favourite feature of his would be his jade eyes, that shone when they light caught them. Whenever she looked at him, she always found herself getting completely lost in the depth of his eyes. Though, she didn’t mind. She could stare at them for hours on end.

Two years has gone by, and she couldn’t be any more proud of Harry. He had come into himself and really found who he is after leaving One Direction and starting a solo career. He knew who he was, and he had expressed that through his new album which the fans loved. He had never felt more like himself and he loved his fans being there for him.

Now, he was getting ready to go on tour.

Y/N sat on her bed in her and Harry’s room, as she sketches away in her pad. She didn’t really know where she was going with this photo, but it was going to be a present for Harry so she wanted it to be perfect. Speaking of, he sits on the floor, packing the rest of his comfy clothes into his suitcases, as his suits are being taken care of by his stylist. This was his second solo tour, and it was bigger than his first one, and Harry couldn’t deny the fact that he was extremely fucking nervous. (Despite being one of the most confident people ever). He had a lot playing on his mind. The biggest thing was leaving Y/N for just under a year, as she wasn’t allowed to join him on the road. For one, Harry just wanted to be around her all the time so she could pose as a distraction, and two, Y/N had a life too, and she needed to stay in London.

Leaving her would be hard, and Harry knew that.

“Alright,” Harry sighs, the deep rumble coming from his tattooed chest, as he leans on his black suitcase and starts to zip it up. “That’s everything packed.”

Y/N smiled as she watched Harry stand up from the spot where he was sitting, and he saunters over to the large bed, carefully placing himself down so he doesn’t knock her accidentally and mess up her sketch. She almost felt some sadness pull at her heartstrings when she realised that in a few hours, Harry will be starting his tour. She’d only see him one night out of all the shows - that was one of his two shows at the O2 in London. Their home. For the rest of it, Y/N would be sitting at home, watching him live the life he loves to live, through a computer screen.

He shuffles up next to her, trying to get a closer look at what she was drawing, but when Y/N felt his presence behind her, she tilts the pad away. “Do you mind?” She questions as she cocks her head, til’ she’s looking at his gorgeous face. He smiles softly.

“Just tryin’ to see what you’re doing, my love.”

The pet name still made her heart flutter to this day. She remembered when he first called her it, and how she felt like a giggling little school girl when she rang her best friend and told her. When she first met Harry, she was completely smitten for him (she still is now obviously), but back then, she was a lot more shy around him. Anything he did was enough to make her cheeks flush red as she hid her face from him. He had many pet names for her - bab, lovie, darling or darlin’ because of his accent, baby. Some of them were standard names to call your partner, but some of them were evidently Harry. “I would show you, but, it’s a present for when you leave. Just thought that if I drew you a nice photo or something, you’d have something to look at when you miss me,” she then told him, feeling a little embarrassed by it.

Harry chuckles, leaning over to press a kiss to the side of her head. “You’re too good to me, Y/N, you really are,” he praises, and she gives him a warm smile.

“It’s almost done though,” she tells him, tongue poking out the side of her mouth as she does a little shading on the drawing that was coming together perfectly. “Just a little more then it’ll be done. I’ll fold it up for you so you can keep it in your wallet, or maybe your suit pocket. Whichever you like. I don’t mind,” she rambles. A habit of hers. Especially when she’s in a tricky situation or when she’s upset. Harry loved it though, he found it oddly sweet in a way.

He looks at her again and sees all he needs sitting right in front of him, but he knows that what’s about to come next is going to completely break her heart. They never argued. Sure, there had been the odd little scrap over something minor, but within an hour they were apologising to each other and talking out their problems in a more mature way. This time was going to be different though. Harry had to break some news to her, and he knew that she wasn’t going to take it well. Y/N was too sweet, too soft, too gentle. Sometimes it was her downfall, being a little too sensitive. Evidently, she wore her heart on her sleeve and although Harry absolutely adored that about her, he knew that it was a burden to her. She just wished she could be a little bit tougher.

“Y/N?”

She hums, not really paying attention as she carries on with her drawing. “I need to talk to you, about something before I leave, okay?” His then serious tone catches her attention, and she looks at him with worried eyes. As she nods, she places the pencil in the book, before closing it over and placing it on the bed next to her. Y/N then turns fully so she’s facing Harry, legs crossed in front of her as she stared at his face.

What’s going on? She then asks herself. “Are you alright, H?”

“I need to speak to you about something.”

That’s when her heart sunk, but she tried to remain positive. She knew that whatever it was, given that it was bad or not, they’d be able to work past it. “Ok,” she sighs as she fixes the collar of her hoodie. Harry just watches her with sad eyes, knowing that in a few moments, she was going to be in his arms sobbing, and he was going to have to hold her through it all.

Harry grabs one of her small hands gently, brushing his thumb over her soft skin. “You know how much I love you, right?” He asks and that’s when Y/N knew that something was definitely up. That something wasn’t right. She nods, watching him with a careful expression to try and gauge a certain reaction out of him. “And you also know that you’ll only see my once when I’m on tour, even when I’m back in London for about four nights. I didn’t want it to be that way, but my management decided it was for the best, considering how well it worked out the first time we spoke when I was touring. So, I’ve done some thinking, and I’ve came to a decision, and I hope that it will be a mutual decision on your part too when you hear my reasons, is that alright?” He asks gently.

Despite feeling incredibly nervous, Y/N nods, yet tries to focus on Harry’s thumb still moving against her hand, thinking about that action as she lets it soothe the anxious feeling in her body.

“I think, and please don’t be mad at me when I say this because I think that it’s best for both of us, we should go on a break or break up when I’m touring.”

After he had said that, Y/N felt the sting in her heart when the words ‘break or break up’ rang through her head like a broken record. Like an annoying alarm. Why would he think that breaking up would be best for us?! She asks herself, as her mind races with thousands of thoughts. Harry’s heart sinks when she suddenly yanks her hand out of his, and he knows that this was going to be hard - having to explain why he feels that this is best for the both of them. She shakes her head, as she feels the tears prick at the corner of her eyes. She didn’t want to cry, she didn’t want to be weak in front of him. Especially not now.

Her voice came out hoarse. “In what way would that be best for us, H?” All that came out of her strained tone, was utter pain and confusion.

“Y/N, just hear me out, ok?”

“No!” She pouts like a child and Harry sighs. How could their be a plausible reason for his idea? That was the biggest thought dashing through Y/N’s mind as she stares at the man she’s so in love with. All she could see when she glanced at him was her future, and everything that made her happy. She thought about the night in the hotel room, after his last show of his first solo tour, in Los Angeles. It was her first time travelling out of the UK, especially to see a boy who she had completely fallen for. She was nervous of the plane but she knew that what was waiting for her on the other side was going to be worth it.

Harry was still on an emotional high after the last show of his first ever solo tour. He had done it! A sold out solo tour and he hadn’t felt that amazing in a long time, and his team were incredibly proud of him. Normally, after something like that, he would’ve gone to a bar with his team and all of his friends to get drunk and celebrate his achievement, but instead, he went to a hotel.

What was waiting for him in the hotel, was his crush, Y/N Y/LN. He had had met her a few months before his first tour, and because she wasn’t allowed to join him on the tour, they used the power of technology to talk the whole time. Sometimes she’d sacrifice her sleep just to talk to Harry, to facetime him after the show and watch him with a smile on his face as he ranted about stuff that happened. Like yelling his iconic one-liners from the 1D days (like ‘two bananas for a pound… three bananas for a euro!) and loving it when the fans joined in. Or holding up the trans flag or the pride flag and hearing the crowd scream in pure happiness when he did that. It was amazing seeing him so happy, and Y/N didn’t mind messing up her sleeping schedule for Harry.

Now, he was standing outside the hotel room, where Y/N waited for him on the other side of the door.

He had no reason to feel nervous, it was just her. So, he pushed the door open and immediately he saw the girl who he had fell and scraped his knees for, placed on the bed as she watched the television. But when she heard the door open, she looked up right away, and the biggest smile painted itself onto her face when her eyes landed on Harry. She wasted no time before scrambling off her bed, and throwing herself into his arms. He had chuckled and gave her a huge hug back, and kissed the top of her head. “I have missed you, so much!” She had laughed cutely as they both pulled away from the hug. Harry smiled down at her as he closed the door to the hotel room.

“Missed you more, bab.”

She had felt the butterflies in her stomach at the pet name, and just his voice in general.

After a while of just sitting around in the bed, watching random TV shows, Harry and Y/N had got into the bed, ready to settle down. She lay next to Harry, the dim light from the rubbish hotel light, lighting up his beautiful face. Even the artificial light shown his god-like features, and his sparkling jade eyes. She reached her hand out, and touching his cheek. He smiled at the sweet action, resting his hand over hers and grabbing it lightly. Y/N felt a rush of nerves and excitement when she was around Harry, but this time was so much more different, as she hadn’t seen him in a good while. “You look so beautiful, just laying there,” he whispered, like they were in a roomful of people, but they weren’t. They were in their own little bubble, sheltered from it all.

“Stop it,” she laughed slightly, feeling her cheeks flare up in embarrassment.

Harry wet his lips with his tongue, before bringing their conjoined hands between them. “Just tellin’ you the truth, Y/NN.” He explained shortly, kissing her hand. She giggled, hiding her face in the crook of his neck, and he smiled even wider than he already was. He just wanted all of her to be his already. The many months of seeing her face through a computer screen made him realise how much he did like her. Hearing her talk about her day or show him the drawings she had done during the day, was enough to make him happy.

This was all they needed.

“Y/N, please babe. Just hear me out, it’ll start to make sense when I explain it a little bit more.”

She was suddenly snapped back into reality, and her heart was heavy. Y/N looks at Harry, swallows her pride and nods her head. He lets out a sigh of relief under his breath, before taking her hand again, and this time she doesn’t yank it away from him.

“When I’m on tour, you’re all I think about. Knowing that you aren’t allowed to come to the second one, given that the circumstances are now different and you’re my girlfriend, really fucking hurts. I just want you to be there with me the whole time, cheering me on and singing along. And I know that you’re coming to the first London date but will one day really change the fact that after that, I’ll be gone for months again?” Every word was like a dagger in her hear, but she nods nonetheless. “And I know you’ll think about me too. That you’ll want to speak to me any chance you get, that like the last time you’ll lose sleep just so you can talk to me. It’s different this time, yet, it’s still the same. Does that make sense?”

Y/N nods again, knowing what he meant.

It was like the first tour all over again - being absolutely smitten and besotted by each other, but this time, they were dating. They spent every hour of every day together, so being away from each other for months on end was going to hurt a lot more.

“So, I think we should break up.” He said shortly, and Y/N felt the tears brim at her eyeline at those words again. Harry notices, and pulls her in gently by the hand he was holding, until she was sitting right in front of him. So close that their noses almost touched. He cups her face in his large hands, rubbing his thumbs over her cheeks, just in time to catch the first tear that fell. “It’ll be easier, y’know. We can still talk, just less often because I want you to focus on yourself too. If we aren’t together, we can focus on ourselves instead of each other. Because if we’re still together, our priority will always be the other person. I know you don’t like the sound of it, but I spoke to mum and Gemma about it, and they think it’s good of me to be putting your interests first too. It’ll be good for us, Y/N, I can promise you that right now.”

When he stops speaking, that’s when Y/N let out a sob. To her, crying over this seemed pathetic, but since the first tour, it had been them. It always had. He went everywhere with her. She was with him when he recorded the new album - they did it all with each other. And Harry having to say the words ‘break up’ to his girlfriend, hurt him more than she would know, but, he was just better at hiding his upset.

She looks up at him, and his heart shatters. “I-I don’t understand, we were so good the last time.”

Harry sighs, feeling himself get a little emotional.

“You can focus on yourself if we aren’t together. I can focus on tour. I want you to do what you need to do without me standing in the way, without you ruining your sleep just to speak to me. As I said, we can still speak, but I am doing this more for you. I want you to focus on yourself when I’m gone, getting a better job then the one you have now, doing something you love doing. Focus on your family, focus on rekindling what you have with Shannon. Does that make more sense, my love?” He asks to her in tbe sweetest tone.

A sense of understanding washes over her, yet she still cries. Why does it seem so bloody difficult?

“I just don’t like the fact that we’re breaking up.”

“Hey,” he gets her attention softly. “None of this will change the fact that I love you more than anything, hm?” He hums.

Y/N nods her head as she leans into him, and he places a hand on the back of her head, the other going to her waist. Her cries are muffled by his shirt, that she clings onto like she’s going to lose Harry forever. He rocks them side to side gently as he presses little kisses to the top of her head. Moments like these were the ones he had to cherish with her. He knew that at the London date, he was allowed to spend the night with her, so he’d come home. They’d do whatever she wanted. Harry wouldn’t care if they slept the whole time, wrapped up in each others embrace. He couldn’t care less, as long as he was with her. Her cries slowly subsided, but she still clung to Harry like a koala. She was going to miss him more than anything, but she knew that he’d come home.

“Please don’t hook up with any Brazilian models or French bombshells,” she then mumbles against his tear stained shirt.

Harry lets out a loud laugh, and it was like music to her ears.

“Never,” he muses, “I only have eyes for my British love.”

[winteriron-trash]

The (Un)Wanted Kiss [Chapter 1]

A/N: This chapter does contain the part from the prompt, but that’s only about the quarter of the chapter. 

Summary/Warnings

-

Bucky kept his arm around Tony’s hip. “Why do we have to do this again?” He hissed, whispering in Tony’s ear.

Tony’s smile was more professional, easy and suave. That didn’t make it any less fake, though. “I told you. After the video leaked of you murdering my parents, we have to prove we’re all chummy for the cameras. Just smile and wave, let me answer a few questions, then you can go back to brooding.”

Bucky mumbled something to himself in Russian, but nodded, and brightened his smile a bit.

Tony dragged Bucky onto a podium, and Bucky only half listened to a speech Tony gave about acceptance and how Bucky couldn’t be blamed for his crimes. Bucky nodded and smiled at the right cues, just waiting for when he could get away from these damned reporters.

“Alright, any questions?” Tony asked, finally wrapping up. Bucky held in a sigh of relief. There was a pandemonium of shouting, and Tony chuckled. “Well, I don’t think we have the time to answer all of those. But…” Tony’s grip on Bucky tightened. “Bucky and I do have one more thing we promised we’d do.”

Then, then Tony grabbed Bucky’s chin. And fucking kissed him.

Bucky might’ve ripped Tony’s head off his body if they weren’t in public. Too many memories of HYDRA agents forcing themselves onto him pushed to the surface, but Bucky choked them down. He let Tony kiss him, resolving he’d kill the man after the conference.

“The truth is, I’m dating the Winter Soldier.” Tony flashed a blinding smile, then dragged Bucky off of the podium again while reporters shouted at them.

As soon as they were alone again, Bucky punched Tony so hard he went flying across the workshop. “What. The hell. Was. That?” Bucky demanded.

Tony groaned, pushing himself to his feet. A bot was already offering him ice. “It was a tactical move, Barnes.”

“Tactical move?” Bucky seethed. “Tactical move my damned-”

“Look!” Tony cut him off with a harsh shout. “I sure as hell didn’t want to do that either, Barnes! And while I may not be particularly keen on your company, Rogers is, and he’s up my ass trying to get me to fix this hellhole of a mess.” Tony started to pace, ice pack pressed to his ribs. “Do you know how many countries you’re a wanted fugitive in? How high bounties are on your head? Just because you were disproven as the bomber in Wakanda and we’re rewriting the Accords doesn’t make all that go away. This isn’t the forties anymore, Barnes. You can’t just smile, say you’re sorry, slip the officer a twenty, and be on your way. Things are complicated now. And I don’t have a shadow of a chance with the UN telling them you’re ‘just a friend’, they won’t fucking buy that bullshit. Maybe the cameras will, but the people who matter won’t. If I can say I’m fighting for the man I love, tug on heartstrings, I might, maybe have a shot at getting you a deal that doesn’t end in twenty-five to life.” Tony wiped a hand over his face. “Look, I’m sorry. And trust me, no matter how much you want to chew me out, it won’t even compare to what’ll come out of Rogers’ mouth when he finds out, so scream at me all you fucking want. I did do this for your own good, believe it or not.”

Bucky stared at him for a long stretch of silence. As infuriating as it was… Tony had a point. “Fine. But next time, give me a fucking heads up.” Bucky stormed out of the workshop at that.

-

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Bucky jerked his head up from watching Tony work on his arm to see Steve, red in the face.

Tony didn’t miss a beat, didn’t even look up. “Would you like a working list?”

Steve folded his arms, taking a stance. Bucky closed his eyes and sighed. “What the hell was that? What on earth were you thinking, kissing Bucky on tv like that?” Steve hissed. Bucky had only ever seen him that pissed when he talked about HYDRA. “Even if I believed for a second that you and Bucky really were a thing -and I know you aren’t- that? Doing it in public? That’s out of line in every sense, Tony.” He was seething, fist balled so tightly Bucky could see his white knuckles pressing through.

Tony finally set down his tools, lips twisting into an exasperated frown. Bucky flexed his fingers, watching the storm brew. “Rogers, I’m endeared by your never-ending care for your long lost love, but if you stopped for a second to think about it, maybe you’d realize I’m doing the best thing for him.”

“Excuse me?” Steve demanded, taking a step forward. “Are you out of your damned mind?”

“Language, Rogers.” Tony snarled. He stood up as well, but with Steve having almost a foot on him -as Steve was wearing shoes and Tony wasn’t- it didn’t quite have the same effect. “Look, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Barnes doesn’t exactly have the best PR-”

“And you do?” Steve shot back.

Tony rolled his eyes so hard they went into the back of his head. “Yes I do, actually. Of all the Avengers, I’m the second highest, right behind your patriotic ass. And if you’d let me speak, I would tell you how I’m using that to his advantage.” Tony jerked a thumb toward Bucky. Bucky resisted the urge to grab that thumb and rip it off.

Steve made a ‘go on’ gesture, eyes narrowed.

“As I explained to Barnes, with the leak of him offing my parents, people are even antsier than before.” Tony threw his arms in the air. “Howard was a bit of a titan, and knowing that the man who murdered him is walking free, it’s putting everyone on edge. If I can show, as the only living connection to Howard and Maria Stark, that I forgive him, it’ll make our fight that much easier.” Tony ran a hand through his hair. “That’s what the press conference was for. And if it was just the press? The media we were up against? That would’ve been enough. But do you have any idea what we’re up against?” Tony started to pace, arms moving, as if he were unsure what to do with them. “The entire UN. All 117 countries who signed the Accords- which just because I was able to get them up for revision doesn’t mean they went away, Rogers. That’s not a fight I can fight with a press conference and a cute little speech about acceptance. But a kiss? That tugs on heartstrings, Rogers. Convinces people that he’s capable of being loved. Of loving others. It seems small but trust me, we need every single fucking push we can get to even have a chance at this.” Tony’s voice was desperate, and it reminded Bucky of the airport fight they’d had. It’d only been a few months, but it felt like a lifetime. “Damnit Rogers, I’m trying my damned hardest! I’m sorry it’s not up to code with your standards, but things can’t always be done the All American way.”

Steve was silent for a moment, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Are you so self-absorbed that you think painting Bucky as another one of you little flings is what’s best for him?” Steve’s voice was barely a whisper, deadly and out for blood. “Are you willing to invade his personal space, threaten his mental health, just for what you think is best?” He took a step forward, and damnit, Bucky knew that look. He knew that look from countless back alley beatings. Stupid punk.

“Hey,” Bucky spoke for the first time as if reminding both of them he was even in the room. “Punk, look. I’m not happy about this. I’m just as pissed at Stark as you are.” That was a bit of a lie. Bucky knew for a fact his rage was minuscule in comparison to Steve’s. “But he’s right. He’s an asshole about it, he didn’t even ask me, but he’s right.” Bucky glanced at Tony, glaring a bit. “If anyone knows how to play the media like a fiddle and get ‘em wrapped around his twisted little finger, it’s Stark.” His words held a nasty bite for Tony even if he was talking to Steve. “Let him be. Not like we can undo it. He’ll regret it when he’s forced to keep me on his hip for the next for months. Or however long this takes.” Bucky sent Tony final look that said he’d make it his life goal to make Tony miserable, then stormed out of the shop before Steve could get another word in.

-

“I’m sure you've read over the current proposal for what to do with Mister Barnes,” General Ross said, pacing around the room. Bucky tried not to glare at him or the other foreign representatives, at the stupid UN meeting Tony had dragged him to. “It's quite the fair proposal, Mister Barnes won't even face prison time.”

Tony let out a noise between a scoff and a snort. “Yeah, I read it. It's a pile of trash. And would it kill you to treat him with a bit of respect? It's Sergeant Barnes. A member of the Howling Commandos, you might recall.” Tony's voice held a nasty bite but was still perfectly under control. Bucky had to admit, he knew how to put on airs. The entire room shifted. “But as I was saying, a pile of trash.” Tony took the stack of papers with fine print and tossed them across the table in an unamused sort of way. “You want to do to him the same thing you tried to do to Banner. Make him your personal little super soldier pet, just like HYDRA did.”

Ross faltered but covered it with an offended look. “Are you implying that the US military is comparable to a Nazi terrorist organization?”

Tony didn't even flinch. “You're the one who wants to know his code words. You tell me.”

Bucky tensed at the mention of code words. It must’ve been more noticeable he would've liked, as Tony grabbed Bucky’s hand, holding on the table with his thumb rubbing soothing circles. It almost might've been worth appreciating, if Bucky knew it wasn't just for show. Bucky held back bile and thought of the way Tony's blood would look on his favourite knife.

“That's a safety measure.” Ross countered.

“No,” Tony rolled his eyes. “The Avengers watching him? Us trying to use BARF technology to get HYDRA out of his head? Those are safety measures. What you want is power over him.”

The UN leaders shifted again, making Tony arch a lazy eyebrow.

“Oh? Didn't you read this? Because the part about the underground prison torture centre is really captivating. Almost as good as the part about the US military having the right to experiment on Bucky however they please.” Tony's tone dripped with sarcasm. Bucky wasn’t sure if his want to throw up was now coming from having to hold Tony's hand or the proposal.

Tony stood up, never letting go of Bucky's hand. “Here's what's going to happen. You're going to rewrite that,” he flicked a finger toward the proposal. “With the UN this time. Then we can talk. But until then? You can kiss my titanium ass if you think I’m letting Bucky sign that.”

“With all due respect, Mister Stark-” Ross started, face turning red.

“Ah, Doctor Stark, thank you.” Tony corrected.

“Doctor Stark,” Ross was positively seething. “Sergeant Barnes has committed an endless list of crimes. By all means, he’s a monster. Are you really defending the assassin of your parents? A man rumoured to have killed JFK?”

Tony dropped Bucky's hand, walking over to Ross with slow steps. “Bucky didn't kill my parents. HYDRA did. You want to go hunting monsters, be my guest. I can give you coordinates to the nearest HYDRA base. But if you ever call Bucky, a man who has been victimized, tortured, and taken apart, a monster again? You'll find out just how hard I can push against you.”Tony warned, his voice barely above a low growl. “Bucky, come on. We’re done here.”

Bucky pushed himself to his feet, taking Tony's hand as they walked out of the conference hall. Ignoring the urge to vomit, Bucky kissed Tony's temple. God, he was going to need to break some punching bags when they got back.

As soon as they were back in Tony's private jet, Tony already had his tablet out, typing away while he muttered profanities to himself. Bucky grit his teeth together, fingers flexing. As much as he hated to admit it, and god he fucking hated to, Bucky hadn’t realized how hard Tony was fighting for him. The mere idea of what might’ve happened if Tony hadn’t been there if Bucky had just given in and signed the contract was sickening.

Bucky sat back, glaring ahead. “Nice job, Stark.” It was genuine but still held a bite. Bucky glowered ahead harder when he felt Tony's eyes on him. “You almost even had me convinced you actually care about me.”

-

@socialtendancies @justjessica131

[resurrged]

AN ANALYSIS OF CHARACTER DECISIONS THE WARRIORS    /     AND WHY YMIR CHOSE ‘THEIR SIDE’      —

                   first and foremost, let me just address some incredibly important tidbits on my own interpretation of ymir’s characterization,  just because it’ll set the fact that this whole post is pretty ?? against the grain to everything i’ve seen on ymir so far & affects a lot on how i play her.

one :       her death was necessary, and she was likely set to die from the start.

this manga is meant to tug at your heartstrings, and ymir’s death, to me, is probably the best one to hit that bullet.  no one’s getting a truly happy ending, and ymir’s was beautifully forlorn.  the best isa has done in building a character just to crush them in the worst way possible, imo. and i mean, yeah, sure— would it have been NICE to see ymir overcome this and find a happy medium? yeah, totally. BUT THIS ISN’T THAT KIND OF STORY ???? it’s not like she really has the chance to work on it fully & like holy shit y’all we literally watched the main protagonist get EATEN within the first 4 chapters what do you expect ????

two :       ymir leaving does not, in any way,  “go entirely against her character”  by choosing R&B over historia

in fact, it aligns perfectly with every aspect of it —  as per isayama’s given outline / point focuses when it comes to her.

as much as she cherishes, supports, and loves the girl, YMIR IS SO MUCH MORE THAN HER ATTACHMENT TO HISTORIA OH mY GoD

THE WHOLE RELATIONSHIP IS LITERALLY A PRIME EXAMPLE OF WHO SHE IS NOT HOW SHE BECAME THAT WAY.

now back to randy with the news

PERSONALITY     /          ymir had always been looking out for others, with a particular emphasis on historia, sure, more on that later— but we see how someone like reiner was instantly able to clue into how something apparently crass, such as laughing ruthlessly at connie’s “idea”,  had been done to look out for him.  

she’s clearly close to her comrades, and we see her being physically touchy with both connie and eren without either of them twitching away / reacting like this is strange.  even though she’s known to behave boorishly, she has this level of closeness with them, something that wouldn’t be a thing if they were truly on bad terms, as her bluntness would often imply.  they seem to all have a comfortable friendship / understanding, one that recognizes she isn’t inherently looking to shit all over them 24/7.   even when she had the chance to simply save historia alone during the CoT arc, she went out of her way to ensure she got all 4 cadets that were left on the tower.   not to mention she saved erwin despite being right pissed at him at the time, something she honestly had no reason to do.   so no, historia isn’t the only person on her mind 24/7.

as much as ymir has said her goal was to live her new life for herself, she was never able to.  we see time and time again that ymir tries to be crass, tries to be blunt, gives in to being selfless, and then tries to play it off.  she’s trying to force herself to change, but it doesn’t work.  at no point in the series had it ever worked.  nothing about her inherent character changed, she never received ‘character development’ on that end, but guess what? that’s actually an incredibly realistic development. she realizes & succumbs to the fact that she was doomed from the start. i cannot emphasize enough how hard it is to change something so integral about who you are as a person. it takes a lot to do that.  we have an entire section of our brains dedicated to not doing it.  

in fact, no character in snk has gone through dramatic change without struggle or major prompting ( levi had to watch his comrades die, mikasa had to break her superior’s leg, and most importantly in this context, historia had to watch her best friend leave her ) .   and NONE of these happened in a flash, either. we have a 6-year skip to levi’s current behaviour, which is still crass / cold even if it is more selfless.  mikasa needs to be reminded of watching how her attachment plays into her choices during the serum bowl before succumbing, and (listen up this is important) historia only truly listens to ymir’s words of advice when confronting her father.  don’t forget that these two had known each other for years before current events, and ymir had been trying to get historia to stop acting the way she does the entire time.  WHICH MAKES SENSE.  in real life, PEOPLE DON’T JUST CHOOSE TO ‘CHANGE’.  it happens naturally, with a shitton of effort and mistakes, if at all. and i’m convinced isayama knows this.

in the end, ymir succumbs to her own state, a doleful  ‘i guess some things never change’  in giving herself up for reiner & bertolt to take.   she feels indebted to them, and knows she can’t deal with the guilt of it, and she’s done trying.  she got her second shot at life and couldn’t ever complete the one task she set out for herself : to just live for her own sake.  

she is pathetic, and i think that’s what porco was getting at in referencing her memories in the marley arc.  and i think his choice of words are really intriguing here? because he uses “を返し[て]くれ[た]” to refer to ymir giving her his brother’s titan back, with both を返し and くれる being things you typically say about someone who’s doing you a genuine favor, like out of good will.  the way he’s saying this aligns heavily with how ymir felt she was indebted to them, despite how he clearly disagrees with her views by calling her straight up pathetic for them lmao.  

the last things we hear her say are that it “doesn’t feel so bad to be a goddess”, again emphasizing that she does these things because they are, in essence, what makes her feel nice.  she feels genuine happiness in giving herself up.  a feeling that goes unmatched by any selfish deed she could ever do.  she even mentions in her letter that she has no regrets, likely through finally realizing this very fact and being able to put it into words, as before we see she doesn’t quite understand the behaviour herself.  and she mentions she regrets nothing, save for getting to marry historia, as if saying maybe this was the very thing that would have possibly felt just as nice.  

so again, i emphasize— she wanted to live selfishly for the rest of her new life, knows she should be happy that way, like everyone else seems to be — but in the end, she couldn’t.  not because of stupid plot devices, but because she genuinely couldn't live with herself unless she did.  when she apologizes to historia, i’m convinced it’s not just for abandoning her, but for proving she’s been nothing but one huge, fake hypocrite this whole time.   after all, ymir’s just like her ;  she wants to do good, wants to help others, and can’t fathom the thought of ever feeling worthy enough for a shot at true happiness.  really, she was being selfish to the end, as she was chasing what made herself feel good as opposed to what someone like historia might have preferred from her, or what R&B even offered to let her do.

HISTORIA     /          now another point i feel i should bring up is that ymir was actually going to bring historia with her, but only under the pretense that she’d live a better life.  

don’t forget ymir lived lavishly up until she was caught as a false prophet, and she likely assumed that with her royal blood, historia would too.  she thought paradis was done for, but when she realized they weren’t, she made the split-second decision to both sacrifice herself for reiner to have something to bring back with him ( thus preventing him from possibly going after historia in place of eren again ) as well as letting historia continue her life as historia, where she was already happy.  

at this point, ymir had seen historia finally spit back the words she’d spoken for so long, and was likely under the pretense that she would be fine, that they had finally stuck.  she saw no reason to keep herself present in hisu’s life ; she’d finally been able to break through to her.  but no matter what, at that point, she had already chosen to sacrifice herself for historia’s sake, and the more she listened to R&B, the more she solidified this idea.

EMPATHY     /         ymir felt fucking bad for R&B.  we get a ton of cutshots to her expression when eren tries to confront bertholdt’s morality, and practically defends him by telling eren he’s being childish for immediately wishing death on him.  we see her getting quiet when she brings up marcel,  and then again showing empathy for bert’s position in all of this.  this is again emphasized when bertholdt asks why she saved him.  but the last two don’t even matter, because by the time they begin leaving the forest she had practically already cemented the fact that she was going to go with them in believing she would never see historia again. 

of course, we might still get more insight on ymir and her motifs, but for now, this has always been how i interpreted her actions, and i never once questioned them.   yes, it would’ve been nice for her to finally set aside that aspect of herself and return with historia, but as i mention in my paradis verse, doing so wouldn’t have cured the innate guilt she feels towards living.  especially now that she’s spoken to R&B.   she realizes she took this from them and feels undeserving of this second shot at life when she couldn’t even do anything with it.  she was supposed to live for herself, and there she is doing everything in her power to save historia instead.  i’m sure ymir feels like a failure over that, and i’m sure it really fucks with her psyche, and factors into why she’s so willing to literally accept death by going back with them.

so by having ymir choose R&B over historia, she was going against  ‘development’  her character literally never had. every single ymir cut shot / flashback in these chapters literally emphasize just how much she does for others, all while trying to hide it under a mask of false ambiguity for her own sake. 

so yeah.  i love ymir.  she deserved better.   thanks for listening to my TED talk.

[deanssweetheart23]

Cross My Heart

Title: Cross My Heart (Soldier!Dean AU)

Summary: Dean Winchester is a man who’s been to war and back, a man that’s lost loved ones and has seen too much to believe in love or fate or destiny. But when he meets a girl that radiates kindness and warmth, one that’s ready to love his shadowy corners and accept him for the man he really is, he begins to change his mind. And, when she shows him the darkness in her light, he promises himself that, no matter how hard things get, he’ll never let go of her. Because, he realizes, he loves her. And that is the beginning and end of everything. 

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Mary and John Winchester (both mentioned), Benny Laffite, Sam Winchester

Word count: 7026 (I know, I know it’s a monster fic, but I promise, it’s worth it)

Warnings: Fluff. Angst. Some language. Implied smut. Death of a parent. Loss. Mentions of blood and of the warzone (nothing too graphic). Bad marital relationship (not Dean associated). Domestic Dean Bean (yup, this should be a warning)  

Author’s Notes: This is my submission for @jpadjackles Double Birthday Challenge. My sweet B, thank you for letting me participate. I had the time of my life writing this and I can promise you, it ended up being a fic very close to my heart.

Special thank you to my twin @ravengirl94 for answering my stupid questions about the US Army, and being such an amazing best friend and beta. Without her, this story would have never been posted.

My prompt for this was Falling In Love At A Coffee Shop by Landon Pigg.(I am not American so every detail about the US Army in this fic is the result of research. If there’s a mistake in it, I apologize in advance.)

And, without further ado. Enjoy <3

The first time Dean sees her it’s on his mother’s birthday.

It’s a sunny day, sky a soft shade of blue, summer slowly creeping its way into his life and, even though he’s not sure of a lot of things, he somehow knows she would have loved this day.

He can almost see her, standing in the middle of their garden, sundress blowing with the wind, a smile gracing her lips while he’s whining because there’s no pie, and it’s all so tangible, so real, that he thinks he can reach out and touch her.

Her image disappears as soon as it’d appeared though, and he’s back in the middle of a crowded street, on his way home from training, all alone, with no plans for the day and no mum to celebrate with because his mother’s gone and nothing can bring her back.

The thought pulls at his heartstrings and he can feel it again, that sickening sensation of missing someone so much that all of his body cells are aching for her and he curses under his breath, already loathing the day.

And then she catches his eye.

She’s just sitting there, at the bay window of the old coffee shop that always seems to have some jazz melody pouring out of it, nose buried in a book.

She’s beautiful, he can tell that much, but what really stuns him is the way she’s holding the dog-eared book, fingers grazing the paper gently like it’s soft skin, eyes skimming the pages as she bits her bottom lip, a wrinkle in her brow. It’s been a while since Dean has seen someone so engrossed into something and he loses track of time, forgets that he’s burning holes on her until she looks up and her eyes meet his through the window.

And Dean is speechless, he’s terrified because he’s caught staring, but she smiles at him, soft and warm and genuine and it’s the purest, most breath-taking thing he’s ever seen.

So, he does what he’s never thought he’d do on a day that hurts him so much.

He returns the smile and watches as she goes back to her book, fingers tucking strays of hair behind her ear, then steals one, two, three long glances and leaves, mind already drifting to work and how he really needs to call his kid brother to see how he’s holding up.

He pretends he doesn’t think of her for the rest of the day.

Dean doesn’t believe in fate.

He doesn’t believe things happen for a reason and he’s seen enough to know that good things happen to bad people and bad to good ones and that there’s no one out there who gives a damn about how broken this world really is, no higher power that protects and loves and saves.

He’s seen kids dying, seen soldiers that had been laughing at his jokes the night before spitting blood from their mouths in the midst of a blaze of chaos and bullets. He’s seen his mum dying, his father turning into a shell of his old self and he’s returned from war only to wonder why.

Why the hell did he survive while others died?

And he knows, that there’s no one to answer.

So, yeah.

Dean doesn’t believe in fate.

But the next time he passes by that coffee shop, a couple of weeks later, he still stops for a second and lets his eyes drift to that bay window.

It’s stupid, he knows that, and makes him feel like he’s a character in a stupid Hallmark chick-flick, but he goes for it anyway, because, oddly enough, he feels like he’ll end up regretting it, if he just walks away like that.

But she’s not there, and for some reason, the day doesn’t seem as bright anymore and meeting with Benny for beers later doesn’t sound as fun.

Trying to swallow his disappointment, he crosses the street, pointedly ignoring that little building that has always seemed like a little piece of another world in the middle of his town.

He doesn’t go back for a month.

Dean’s almost convinced he’ll never see her again.

It makes sense, of course, because she’s nothing but a stranger that caught his eye for just a split second, one of those people that are somehow supportive characters in someone’s story without even knowing it, but it still baffles him a bit, still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth when he thinks of her.

Not that he thinks of her too often.

Nope.

He doesn’t.

But she’s a nice memory, lively and serene, and the image of her lost in her own world, scanning the pages of a book like it holds the world’s most precious secrets always manages to put a smile on his face in the darkest of hours, because, admittedly, he doesn’t believe in magic, but it’s comforting to know there are still a few people in the world that do.

So, he stops by the coffee shop a couple of times, but she’s never there and he loses all hope.

And then it happens.

He’s leaning against his shiny muscle car, right outside Benny’s house, arms folded in front of his chest, eyes focused on the front porch, when he hears a loud thump, followed by a string of extremely colorful expletives he doesn’t even know existed, and he stops and takes a breath to remind himself that he doesn’t have to reach for his gun, that he has no gun, because he’s safe, he’s back home in the States and his mind is just playing tricks on him.

He doesn’t have time to really dwell on it though because-

“Fuck. Fuck, fuckety fuck, fuck.” Someone mutters, voice soft and surprisingly pleasant.

And he doesn’t even realize it at first, but he’s already next to Sailor Mouth, and when he mumbles an  are you alright, ma’am and she turns to look at him, he swears that his whole world stops for a minute because it’s her.

It’s the girl from the coffee shop, cheeks a little flushed, hair a little disheveled and he wants to say something, he wants to say anything, but he can’t seem to find the words.

She smiles.

It’s gorgeous and genuine and a bit sheepish and he notes that if he’s thought she was beautiful before, now he knows she’s stunning.

“I’m fine. I’m just… Did I say all those things out loud?”

He laughs.

Even he is surprised at how easily the sound seems to bubble up his throat.

“Yeah, pretty sure you just did.”

“Oh God. I’m… It’s been a long day and I-”

“’S okay, kid.” He chuckles because she’s flustered and it’s the most adorable thing he’s ever seen. Then. “Here, lemme help with that.” He offers and crouches to the ground to pick up the books she’d dropped, eyes sweeping over the titles quickly.

“Interesting.”

“What’s interesting?” she implores, brow raised.

“Nothing, just,” he smirks a little, smug and playful, then licks his lips, “I didn’t really know people are still into Elizabeth Barret Browning. Since this is, you know, the 21st century.”

“Hey.” She whines, but there’s a smile playing at the corners of her lips. “Elizabeth Browning is frigging awesome, man.”

“Sure she is.”

She’s bothered now, forehead puckered and eyes ablaze with a sort of brightness that surprises him.

“Are you –how can you not like her? What’s next, are you going tell me you hate Shakespeare?”

“Well,” he chortles, shoving his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, “I wasn’t going to say anything but-”

“Oh, c’mon. He’s Shakespeare.” She chants, spread-armed shrug as she stares at him in shock.

“Hmmm. Bit overrated if you ask me. Now Vonnegut on the other hand…”

“Of course you’d say that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? What could you possibly have against Slaughterhouse 5?”

“What could you possibly have against Hamlet?” she retorts, waggling the book she’s been holding.

“Look,” he tries again, titling his head to the left, “all I’m saying is the guy just whines too much, you know? And.” He jabs a finger at her. “He’s disgustingly sweet.”

“Right.” She huffs out, sarcasm laced in her voice. “Do you have a pen?”

“What?”

“Do you have a pen? It’s a simple question.” She states, then thinks about something and reaches for her bag. “Never mind, I got one. Just give me your hand.”

“I, uh,” he pauses, eyes drifting to the letters sprawled over his palm, “Sonnet 138?”

“Uh-huh.”

“What are you-”

“You should read it. Pretty sure it’ll change your mind on your whole disgustingly sweet thing.” She gushes, pink lips curling up in a self-satisfied smile that was one of the most beautiful things he’s ever seen.

“You’re-”

“Awesome. Yeah, I know.” She says, Y/E/C orbs drifting up to meet his, and beams so brightly he can’t really argue with her.

So, instead, he grins and just stares because there’s nothing else he can really do but search for colors and light and life into her eyes while he listens to her speak, about Shakespeare and the sonnets and how she’s definitely gonna prove him wrong.

He stops by the bookstore on his way home that day.

Dean’s nervous.

Sitting right next to her, he drinks in the way she throws her head back when she laughs at his joke, the way her perfume blends with the fragrant smell of fresh coffee and, even though he’s so forever stunned by how easy almost everything seems to be with her, part of him is still terrified that he’ll mess something up and make a fool of himself in front of her, like a teenage boy that just had a girl say hello to him for the first time.

“So,” she says, drumming her fingers on the table, soft smile gracing her lips, “I got an important question for you, Dean.”

He hums and arches a sly brow.

“All ears, sweetheart.”

“Apple pecan, blueberry buttermilk or coffee, walnut and chocolate chip?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

She laughs.

“They’re muffin flavors.” She explains, reaching for the catalogue. “You said you’ve never been to this coffee shop, right?” A nod. “Well. You got to try the muffins. They’re the best in the entire town. So. Apple pecan, blueberry buttermilk or coffee, walnut and chocolate chip?”

“I don’t really, uh… I’m not a muffin guy.”

A scowl.

Eyes rolled skywards.

“Not a muffin guy?”

“Yeah. I… Pie. I love pie.”

“That’s because you haven’t tried these muffins.”

He chuckles, corner of his mouth curving up in a smirk.

“Kid, no offense, but ain’t nothing in this world that’s gonna make me give up pie.”

Her lips twitch at his words, something he can’t quite put his finger on dancing in her eyes.

“You mean like there was nothing in this world that could make you come to this place?”

“Nope. See, that’s different.”

“It’s different because…?”

He smiles, a boyish grin that makes him look, at least, ten years younger.

“The only reason I agreed to this is because you said you loved this place.”

“And?”

“And I’m clearly trying very hard to impress you.”

“Clearly.”

“Now, what is that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” she says, mischief  coating her features, “that when the girl you’re trying very hard to impress wants you to try the muffins, you try the muffins, Dean.”

He laughs at that, but his eyes soften as they flicker over her face slowly.

“What? What was that look for?”

“Nothing…” he replies, scratching the back of his neck. “You just… You really love this place, don’t you?”

A breathless smile.

“Yeah, I really do.” She whispers, looking at him from the rim of her mug.  She pauses for a second, seemingly thinking about something, then licks her lips and continues. “My dad… He and I don’t really get along, -we never did quite frankly, so when things got a bit tough at home, my mum would bring me over here for breakfast. It was kind of our thing, you know?” she grins at the memory and looks at the table, seemingly counting the grains of sugar she’d spilled minutes earlier. “We still stop by when she visits.”

He sees the serenity that has settled into her eyes then, notices the tenderness that’s basically strapped into her soft voice, and grins, because it’s almost as if her love for that place seeps into his bare skin and makes him feel lightheaded.

Glancing at the silver band he never takes off, he twists it around his finger and just thinks for a minute.

And then-

“My mum used to take me fishing.” He tells her, absentmindedly cracking his knuckles. “See, my dad has always loved it, but he’s pretty bad at it. And I mean pretty bad, kid.” He chuckles, rough and low at the back of his throat, eyes glancing out of the bay window. “She’s always lied to him about it though. Didn’t want to hurt his feeling. So, when he said he wanted to teach me, she just took me to the lake one day and said Son, I’m gonna show you the ropes here but if your dad asks, this was all him.”

Y/N laughs at his words, nose scrunched up in the cutest of ways and leans closer, fingers tucking a strand stray of hair behind her ear.

“She sounds amazing.”

Her words are like a stab in the heart.

“Yeah. She, uh, she was.” He rasps, averting his gaze. “She died. When I was four.” He pauses, hoping that she didn’t hear the way his voice wavered. “Fire accident.”

And he waits for her to look at him like he’s a lost puppy, waits for some pitiful comment to leave her lips but instead-

“God –I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“No, it’s –you’re fine, don’t worry.” He cuts her off but she hesitates, looks at him like she might want to apologize again, so he reaches for her hand, his knuckles scraped against her soft skin. “Seriously. We’re good.”

Cracking a small, grateful smile, she traces the back of his hand slowly.

“Well. I know it’s not what you want to hear but she… She would have been proud of you.”

And she might think it isn’t much, but he feels so overwhelmed, so absolutely floored by that statement, by the kindness in her eyes and that genuine smile she’s wearing that he wants to lean over and kiss her.

He doesn’t.

“Give it a little time, kid. You might change your mind.”

“That’s not gonna happen.” She blinks. “Unless you’re a serial killer.” A chuckle. Brows raised in question. “You’re not a serial killer, right?”

“Nope.” He grins, playfulness coating his features. “But you know what they say. Got to keep my options open.”

She barks out a laugh at that, the sparkling sound spilling from her lips and filling the space in between them with nothing but gleam and sunshine and, despite the fact he’s at a coffee shop with colorful walls and jazz vinyl records, all he sees, all he can see is the bright girl in front of him, the one that’s still holding his hand and smiles the most radiant smile he’s ever seen.

He’s never felt quite at home until now.

It takes him six more dates to kiss her.

He’s walking her back home from a carnival, small hand in his large one, fingers soundly intertwined together, and she looks so absolutely breath-taking under the moonlight that all he can do is stare, at the way the soft glow dances across her face, the way her eyes shine like diamonds, the way her lips curve up into the perfect smile.

So, when they stop under a lamppost and he says something that makes them both laugh until they can’t breathe, he gathers every ounce of courage, presses his forehead against hers, clasps the side of her face with his hand, and when her eyes flutter shut for just a second, he slowly ducks in and brushes his lips against hers.

It’s a ghost of a kiss, breathy and attentive at first, but then she whimpers into his mouth and he deepens it, winds an arm around her waist and, God, she tastes like whiskey and cinnamon and that cherry pie they shared earlier.

He’s never tasted anything better.

Dean’s happy.

It’s been there for a while now, he supposes, hidden in secret smiles and quiet afternoons spent in that coffee shop she loves so much, but it hasn’t really hit him, not until he sees her in his kitchen on a Saturday morning.

She’s just standing in front of the counter, dressed in one of his crisp white shirts, coffee pot in hand while she hums a familiar tune under her breath and he stares at her, bones turning into liquid at the way she moves into the little room like she’s always belonged there, and he can feel it, he can feel happiness and serenity and warmth pulling at his heartstrings.

Quietly, he wraps his arms around her waist and presses his lips against that soft spot on her neck that never fails to make her shudder.

“Mmmm. Good morning to me.” He mumbles, the words caressing her skin while they make their way into the fresh morning air.

She laughs then, that bright, lively laugh that he’s come to love and turns around to face him, hands finding their way around his neck within seconds.

“There you are, sleepyhead.” She murmurs, pecking the corner of his mouth. “I thought you’d never get out of bed.”

Instead of replying, he smirks, all playfulness and mischief, lifts her up and sets her on the counter, long fingers caressing the side of her face gently.

“Yeah, well” he starts, tucking a strand stray of hair behind her ear, “I didn’t exactly get much sleep last night.”

“Or maybe you’re just getting old.”

Growling, he rolls his eyes at her raised brows and gets an arm around her shoulders.

“’M gonna pretend I didn’t hear that because you’re cute and last night was pretty awesome.” He gloats, nudging his nose up against hers.

“Awesome, huh?”

“Kid, you have no idea.” He hums and leans in to kiss her, lazy and soft, grinning a little into it because, dammit, it’s a good day.

It’s all pastel touches and warm lips after that and when they finally break off, he braces his forehead against hers and takes a deep breath.

“You look good in that shirt by the way.” He whispers, parting her legs with his thigh and wrapping them around his waist.

She beams at him, cheeks going a bit pinkish.

“I do?”

“Yeah. As a matter of fact,” he starts, fingers undoing some buttons as they work their way down her breasts, “I think it looks better on you.”

She chuckles at that but then he latches his mouth on her neck and she sighs, that little sigh that lets him know he’s doing everything just right, the one he loves to pull out of her whenever he can, and, Jesus, he wants to-

“Easy there, cowboy.” She chuckles. “We got a date with your brother in a couple of hours.”

“Yeah, I know.” He says, tone matter of fact as his lips move along her sternum. “He can,” another kiss, “wait.”

“No, he can’t.” she objects, but he can feel her heartbeat against his chest, knows exactly the kind of effect his ministrations have on her. “D., I’m serious about this.”

“Hmmm,” he hums, sucking a kiss into her collarbone.

“Okay, you really need to,” she pants a little, “you need to stop that. We can’t be late.”

“Why not?” he implores, pulling back.

“Because I can’t just… I mean, I want…” she huffs out a breath in frustration, clearly struggling with her thoughts, then purses her lips and drops her eyes to the floor. “What if your brother doesn’t like me?”

“Not like –kid, how could someone not like you?”

“I dunno,” she shrugs, clutching at his arm, “why don’t you ask my dad?”

And he knows it’s not supposed to sound bitter, he knows she’s just being sarcastic, but he can still taste the sourness in his own tongue, because it’s something that could have dropped from his lips, because sometimes he can see shadowy corners of himself in her lightness, can see scars that for some messed up reason match his.

“Yeah, but to Sam’s defense, your dad’s a dick. My brother’s a good kid.”

“I know that but-”

Warm lips brush up against hers, soft but persistent, and for a moment, she loses herself completely in him and everything he is.

“You worry too much, sweetheart.”

“Well, I can’t really-”

“Sssh. Lemme help with that.” He breathes against her ear as he nibbles on her lobe, hand sliding from her waist to the inside of her thighs.

“You are so not helping.” She chuckles, breathy and loose.

He hums.

“D., you really have to stop. I have to go back home.”

“You know,” Dean says as he tugs her closer, pecking her forehead sweetly, “this would all be easier if you just lived here.”

The words are out of his mouth almost immediately and she freezes and goes tense under his arms while the whole room falls silent.

And, so, he waits.

He waits for one, two, three long bits and, when she still doesn’t speak, he begins to second-guess his own self, and starts to think that maybe it’s too big of a step for them to make, or that perhaps she doesn’t want to move in with someone who can’t even whisper those three little words to her, someone who’s less than anything she’ll ever deserve.

“Are you…” she lets out a chuckle and grazes his back with her fingers nervously, eyes wide and confused. “D., do you really mean that?”

Licking his lips, he nods and tucks some hair behind her ear.

“You spend most of the time here anyways.”

“Yeah, but do you want me here? Because what we have right now-”

“What we have right now is great.” Dean interrupts her and intertwines his fingers with hers soundly, smiling when he feels her squeezing in response.

“That’s what I’m saying. And I don’t want you to-”

“No, just…” he shushes her with a finger on the lips and chuckles a little at her adorable pout. “You asked me what I want, right?”

She nods.

“I want to have this. Every day. With you.” He explains, kissing her wrist. “So,” he locks eyes with her, all openness and softness, “move in with me.”

And he expects her to say yes, expects her to laugh and squeal and giggle in his arms, but instead, she ducks in, smooths her thumb over his jaw and kisses him, deep and ardent, and when her fingers sink into his hair he thinks that, yeah, he could really get used to this.

“I guess we’re doing this then.”

“God, yes…” She breathes, face breaking into a breathless smile, so bright and so sunny that it reminds him of spring and sunflowers.

So, he chuckles and kisses her, fingertips traveling to the junction of her thigh and hip slowly.

Moaning a bit, she squeezes her legs around his waist and he smirks against her mouth and hoists her into his arms.

“Dean, what on Earth are you-”

“’M taking you back to bed,” he hushes her, pressing his lips against hers.

“Your brother is-”

“Don’t care. Want you, sweetheart.” He rasps, mouth up her jaw. “Want you so much.”

Being late for lunch turned out to be just fine.

Dean’s in love with her.

He has been for a long time, maybe even since the very beginning, but the deeper he dives into her, grasping quirks and scars and warmth, the freer he falls, feelings he didn’t even know existed wrapping around his heart like vines and reviving every withered, every dead cell.

It’s something that’s always there, in boisterous afternoons spent within the crowds, joined hands a cardinal proof that he’s not alone anymore, in quick kisses and witty remarks whispered during hurried coffee dates on bustling days, but the sentiment is always louder, always purer in moments like this, moments of stagnation, when his whole world is wrapped up in her scent and the sound of her voice and the feel of her skin on his.

As if she’s just read his mind and knows he’s thinking of her, Y/N stretches out in the hammock, cat-like, and nuzzles his chest adorably, prompting a soft chuckle from him.

“You falling asleep on me, sweetheart?” he whispers, combing his fingers through her hair.

“Mmmm… ‘M just tired.”

“Told you we shouldn’t have driven four hours to see this place.” He teases and before he even has the chance to add anything she opens her eyes and growls at him, irritation coating her features. “Can’t see why you love it so much.”

“New Hampshire is gorgeous and you know it, heathen.” She gushes, ruffling his hair.

“Pffft. ‘S okay.”

“Yeah, right.” she huffs out, looking up at him. “You love this view.”

Grinning, he pulls her impossibly close, and locks eyes with her, in love with the way they shine brightly under the afternoon sun.

“Yeah,” he whispers, not averting his gaze. “I do.” A kiss on the tip of her nose. “I really do.”

He expects her to laugh, waits for her to blush or smile or call him a cuddly ol’ teddy bear like she usually does in occasions like this, but she just looks at him, Y/E/C orbs burning into his with an intensity that reminds him of lazy mornings and tender glances, of the nights he loves to spend plugged deep into her, smoothing calloused hands over bare skin, exploring edges and curves and pulling shaky whispers of soft love out of her.

It’s that look that pulls him right in, the one that mesmerizes and terrifies him at the same time because he knows exactly what it means.

So, he lets out a nervous laugh and mumbles a what? under his breath, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Nothing I’m just… I don’t know how I got so lucky with you.”

And he’s never thought that he could be that one good thing in somebody’s life but it’s so genuine and sweet-spoken that he believes it.

“You going all cheesy on me, kid?” he grins, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Shut up.” She whines, smacking his arm. “I mean that. Before you I thought I would –I didn’t believe I’d get to have something like this. The way I grew up, I-”

“Hey,” he cuts her off, thumb brushing against her bottom lip, “we’re not your parents. We’re never going to be your parents.” He promises, clasping the side of her face.

“D., -”

“Don’t. Kid, you have no idea how much I want this to work.” He objects and reaches out for her hand, interlocking their fingers together. “God, you don’t even know how much I-” he pauses, and swallows, all kinds of pent up emotions running through his veins, threatening to spill into his voice.

“How much you what?”

He takes a deep breath then and looks into her soft eyes, drinking in the way they’re staring back at him like he’s her entire world, the way her lips are pursed in an adorable frown, the way she furrows her brows in concern and she’s so unbelievably pure in that moment, so real, that he wants to let go, wants to stop holding back, to stop being so frigging afraid.

And so-

“How much I love you.” he whispers, just three little words, out in the open. “Sweetheart, I-”

“I love you too.” She cuts him off, propping herself on her elbow to straddle him, hands cupping his face as she leans in. “I love you so much.”

And then she kisses him like she’s never kissed him before, deep and demanding and a bit desperate, and, he grips at her, lets his hands wander beneath her sundress, and he knows.

She’s been the one for him all along.

Dean’s going to break her heart.

He should have seen it coming really, should have known that nothing good would ever come out of a relationship with him, but he’d been so fascinated by her kind heart and her sweet acceptance, he’d fallen so stupidly and insanely in love with her that he’d forgotten he was practically poison for everyone and anyone around him.

And yet, now that she’s looking at him, soft, wide eyes curious and concerned, he knows he’s going to break her in ways no other man ever had.

“D? Everything okay?” she implores, hand reaching out to touch his and he shuts his eyes closed for a second and lets himself get lost in her softness.

He blinks and nods, squeezing her fingers in response.

“Was that your dad? You sounded kind of-”

“No, that was –kid, that was my CO.”

“Your CO?” she repeats, forehead puckered. “But I thought you said you had the day off .”

“I did. I do…” he sighs, running a hand over his face tiredly. “He, uh, he wanted to tell me that I…”  A glance that’s filled with sorrow and regret. “I got called back on active duty.”

Silence.

Everything around them, every single sound fades into the background until there’s silence and nothing else and even though she doesn’t say anything, Dean swears that every single thing she’s feeling floats across her face like a lonely cloud on the pristine sky.

“But you’re on reserve duty, right? They can’t just do that.”

“’S not that simple, Y/N. If they need me, they can do pretty much anything.”

She nods, eyes a little lost and face white as a hospital sheet and, God,  he wants to take her in his arms and tell her that’s everything is going to be okay, but he can’t lie to her.

“So, you have to go.” She whispers slowly, eyes drifting to the spilled coffee in front of her.

“So, I have to go.”

“How long do we-”

“A month.”

She hums, biting on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, orbs dark and misty.

His stomach plummets.

“You’re leaving in a month.”

He mumbles a yeah under his breath and notices the tears in her eyes.

He almost chocks on dry air.

“Hey,” he whispers softly, running a hand over his jaw, “don’t go crying on me now, sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry.” She whines, sniffing a bit. “I’m just… D., I can’t-”

“You’re not going to.” He objects, reaching up to wipe away the wetness. She leans into his touch, almost absentmindedly, and he smiles just a little, despite himself. “’S not my first rodeo.”

She laughs, bitter and wrecked.

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Well, it should.” He smirks, all smug and swagger, even if he’s dying on the inside. “I’m not gonna die, kid. I love you too much to just leave you like that.”

She looks at him, looks into his eyes, searching for something.

“Do you promise?”

Instead of replying, he smiles, soft but honest and reaches out for her, manipulating their fingers until they’re laced together, then brings their joined hands to his lips.

“Cross my heart.” He vows and kisses her knuckles sweetly.

He lets himself store the feeling of skin against lips on memory but the serenity that simple intimacy gives him evaporates almost immediately, because his mind drifts to the small velvet box that’s been hiding in the pocket of his leather jacket for almost a month, the one with the elegant diamond ring his mum used to own.

And he prays to God he’ll get to keep his promise.

Dean’s been gone for 240 days.

He sends letters, even calls when he can, but she misses him, misses his scent and his smile, the way he throws his entire body into laughter, the way his eyes shine like caramel when the light catches them just right.

But she holds on.

She reads all the messy scribbles he sends, no matter how bedraggled and jumbled they are, listens to his gruff voice as it blends with the sound of static when he tells her he misses her and he can’t wait to kiss the hell out of her again, drives around his Baby with love and makes sure Sam’s doing okay just like she promised him she’d do.

And she waits.

She waits and hopes, no matter how much it tears her apart, because there’s nothing else she can do.

And then there’s a knock on the door one day.

She’s in the kitchen with Benny, making dinner for them and his girlfriend, when she hears it, a loud thump that sounds like a porcelain heart breaking.

Slowly, she reaches out for the towel, but Benny beats her to it, laying a hand over her shoulder.

“I got it, Muffin. Emily’s probably here early anyways.” He tells her, blue eyes lighting up in adoration and she chuckles a little at how love-struck he looks, and goes back to stirring the pasta, throwing a Call me if you need anything and for God’s sake, don’t have sex on my couch over her shoulder.

And she waits for Benny’s warm voice to echo in the rooms of the house, waits for Emily’s laugh to fill the place, waits for them to come into the kitchen, Benny’s hand wrapped around her waist, no matter how much the blonde woman claims to hate it, but nothing happens and she knows something is wrong.

So, she almost storms into the living room and stops dead in her track as soon as she sees them.

Sam standing at the door, tears in his eyes.

Dean’s dog-tag in Benny’s hands.

And she knows what that means, they all know what that means, but she still shakes her head, wraps her arms around her middle and mutters a broken no under her breath.

“Y/N, I-” Sam starts, taking a step forward, voice hoarse and numb.

“No. This can’t –there must have been some sort of mistake. Dean can’t –he’s not…” she chocks, despite the tightness in her throat.

“There was a road side bomb.” Sam tries to explain, taking a tentative step forward. “Dean –he was at a convoy somewhere with his team.”

“No.” she almost screams, bumping into the sofa. “He’s not…. He promised me. He said he’d come back, he…” she pauses and takes a deep breath, tears streaming down her face, then runs a hand over it. “I got one of his letters yesterday, he can’t just-”

“They were ambushed, Y/N. No one –only one person survived the explosion and he’s in critical condition. The bodies, they’re…. charred up, no one can know-”

“So maybe he wasn’t there.” She cries, hope floating across her face “Maybe this is some sort of mistake and he’s-”

“He’s not. He’s… Y/N, my brother’s dead.”

My brother’s dead.

The words echo soundlessly into her head as Dean’s smile flashes before her eyes.

She remembers the first time she saw him, remembers how bright his eyes were as he helped her pick up the books she’d dropped and teased her about Shakespeare.

There was a road side bomb.

She remembers the look of pure interest and concentration on his face as she talked to him about her favorite book on their first date, remembers the way his eyes sparkled every time he talked about Sammy.

Dean –he was at a convoy somewhere with his team.

She remembers the way his lips felt against her own every time he kissed her, the way their bodies always fit together like pieces of the same puzzle, the way he worshiped here, passion and lust blending with tenderness and love every time he wrapped himself around her.

The bodies, they’re…. charred up

She remembers the nights they spent laying side by side after he’d woken up from yet another nightmare, looking at each other’s eyes and muttering secrets to one another until they fell asleep,  the days of pure bliss spent by the lake at New Hampshire, filled with swimming and love-making and laughs and soft, tender touches.

My brother’s dead.

She remembers every graze of skin, every whispered promise, every smile and every tear and she realizes she’ll never have that again.

My brother’s dead.

My brother’s dead.

My brother’s dead.

She falls into her knees and begins to sob.

She’s sitting there again.

The girl with the Y/H/C hair and the bright Y/E/C eyes that found love in that small coffee shop is sitting next to the bay window, a Vonnegut book in hand while she sips at her beverage leisurely.

But she’s different now. She drives a 67 Chevy Impala and always wears a dog tag around her neck. She doesn’t radiate hope and bliss like she used to and doesn’t believe in magic anymore.

It’s the first time she visits the coffee shop in six months. She’s tried to stop by before, tried to go there with Benny or Sam but she never made it to the door because everything hurt too much.

Everything reminded her of Dean, of the day everything started, of the day that signified their end even if they both hadn’t realized it back then, and she couldn’t let herself be buried in that blur of emotions that just wouldn’t let her be, wouldn’t let her breathe properly.

Today’s different though.

Today she knows that they would have gone there together, so she’s there, sitting at the table they used to sit, pretending that he’s there with her, that he holds her hand and whispers jokes into her ear, laughing that rich, warm laugh of his that she misses so damn much.

The bell above the door dings and pulls her out of her thoughts, but she’s too overwhelmed and too spent to care.

She hears footsteps, feels someone burning holes at her from behind and, God, she wants to yell and cry at the same time because she’s so tired, so absolutely drained from all these people that look at her like she’s a beaten puppy.

But then-

“You know for a birthday girl, you look pretty miserable.”

And she freezes because that voice is so familiar, it’s the one that has been sneaking into the corners of her mind for months, the one she wishes she could hear again, just once, and it’s loud and clear and there.

So, she turns around slowly and when freckles and broad shoulders swim into view the breath hitches in her throat because the man standing in front of her might look older than he really is, burdened with death and ghosts of loved ones and loss, he might look worn out and tired, but his eyes, those eyes that can turn into a million different shades of green in the blink of an eye, are as bright as she remembers them when they lock into hers.

“You’re –you’re back. You’re alive.” She stutters stupidly, tears glistening as she gets on her feet.

“Well,” he smiles that crooked smile she’s missed so much, scratching the back of his neck nonchalantly, “I promised, didn’t I?”

And it’s all she needs to hear, everything she needs to know, it’s an answer that’s so simple, so solely and uniquely Dean, that she breaks into sobs in the middle of the coffee shop until his large hands wrap around her waist, pull her to his solid chest and squeeze like he’s afraid she’s not real, that someone will take her away from him again.

“Ssssh,” he coos, kissing the top of her head softly “it’s okay. I’ve got you now, sweetheart.”

Another sob rips through her and she clutches at his shirt, body wracking with defeat.

“They said –they told me you were dead.”

Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Dean drops another kiss on her hair and then cups her chin and forces her to look at him, eyes dark and filled with unshed tears, a fading scar between his brows.

“They thought I was.” he explains, dabbing away the saltiness. “After the bomb went off, I was... I was trapped behind enemy lines. Busted my leg real bad too.”

“Are you-”

“’M fine. The pain –I could take that… But knowing I couldn’t get to you… Knowing you thought I was dead, it killed me. And I was worried… When I finally found a way to get back here I thought you’d have-”

“Don’t,” she pleas, cupping the side of his face, “don’t say that. You’re…”

He nods slowly and sucks in a breath.

“Just,” she sighs in a whose, grazing his jawline gently, “never do that to me again.”

He smiles, the first real smile in over a year.

“Never again, kid.” He promises, voice wavering, mouth millimeters away from hers. “Never again.”

She laughs the laugh of a mad woman, broken and relieved and overwhelmed, and he leans in, brushes his nose against her jaw and ever so slowly, he captures her lips with his.

He tells her everything she needs to know with that kiss, takes everything she has to give, pain and tears, love and longing, and it’s like she breathes life into him all over again, it’s like that first kiss under the lamppost in the middle of the street on a summer night, a kiss that’s able to put all of his broken pieces back together and make him feel whole again.

And Dean tastes everything, drinks everything in and gives it back tenfold, knowing that he’s really back and she’s real and she’s his, she’s always been his and he smiles against her lips.

He’s right where he belongs.

Forever Tags: @jpadjackles @supernatural-jackles @ravengirl94 @percywinchester27 @hannahindie @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @trexrambling @pickupthatamulet @impala-dreamer @imagining-supernatural @becs-bunker @wordstothewisereaders @winchestersnco @sgarrett49 @myrabbitholetoneverland @iwriteaboutdean @ruprecht0420 @captainemwinchester @mogaruke @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @wellthatsrandomkek @jayankles @keepcalmandcarryondean  @escabell @thevioletthourr @kathaswings @tiny-friggin-human​ @winchesters-flannels​ @akshi8278​ @atari-writes​ @emilywritesaboutdean​ @ofloveandlonging​ @mandilion76​ @polina-93​ @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester​ 

Cross My Heart Tags: @jensen-akf​ @samsfabuloushair​ @shamelesslydean​

[ikonislife]

Soulmate 2

- OT7 x Reader

- It’s not all honey and sunshine in the world where soulmates are something of God given will. Will the boys be strong enough to get through the day with their better half or will the relationship will tarnish with the tick of the clock.

-Fluff, slight angst, soulmate au, soulmate!iKon

-Chapter 1: Chanwoo - The Boy with the Baseball Glove

-Chapter 2: Hanbin - The Boy in the Red Flannel

-Chapter 3: Yunhyeong - The Boy in the Chef Apron

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man (or woman) in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a mate. Just in this universe, this time and space, that truth is a bit more complicated than most. It seems as though everyone around you were raised on the rigid schedule of school, career, marriage. People stumbling and bumbling around like fools waiting for that special someone to drop on their laps and be merry as if their sole purpose in life is to find a mate. Sure lots of time it works out for the better but more often than not, it entails a string of heartbreak and tears that perhaps is nobody’s fault but the outdated belief that your soulmate gets assigned to you for a reason so just accept it and let it be. The ridiculous belief that the meaning of life is to get a fortune, or as close to one as you could in the modern days meaning a good career, then getting hitched off to some stranger for the rest of your life and be merry for all eternity.

That’s right. This is one of those world that soulmate comes to you neatly wrap in a bow by some sort of higher divine, cosmic bullshit. You had always wonder had it been any other way, in some other universe where soulmate is what you decided or the idea of soulmate is altogether preposterous, would it be any better. The idea of stumbling through life searching for the connection to the person you’re suppose to spend your life with is curious yet intriguing. How many times, trials and errors would you have to go through before ending up with that person. Whatever it is, seems better than having someone popping up out of nowhere like a flower in spring and just “Tah dah, I’m your soulmate, love me.” Where’s the romance, where’s the passion. Sure this was efficient when the human race was on the brink of extinction but now with it thriving like a horde of unstoppable cockroach taking over Earth and moving onto outer space, why was looking for your own love so radical.

You had heard the story thousand, no, millions of times of course. When you meet the one that was meant for you, your heart will just know. How could it be any more cryptic than that. Come on, couldn’t the ancestors had asked the Gods for something more obvious like a sign,their names appearing on your skin as a tattoo, the sound of their voice, the world bursting out with colors, anything. Nope! All you got to go on is heart palpitation or something like that. You scoffed at the girls huddling together excitingly sharing the tale on the playground at age 6, cafeteria at age 11, again at the gym locker at age 16. Some girls are so hellbent on “saving themselves heart and soul” for their soulmate that they would turn down completely good men and happiness times again. You sigh as the fleeting giggle as a group of girls murmur amongst each other, something about the girl named Hani finally felt that heart clenching moment.

Maybe you’ll never feel it, maybe it’ll be tomorrow but who knows… Whatever it may be, you’re in no rush to find out.

The Boy in the Red Flannel.

Admittedly, you’ve never bought into the whole soulmate idea nor were you ever a romantic… but sitting here in this boring beige room on your own, braving the pity eyes and that strange scent of hospital, this has got to be the lowest of low.

The road that lead to this point unraveled faster than anyone could’ve expected. You sure didn’t even know how it got to this point in a mere four months since the first time you felt that soul crushing, heart clenching moment. You sure didn’t at all.

It was just another busy night at your uncle’s small bbq joint. His wife out of commission courtesy of a brand spanking new baby and the 4 hours of sleep combined between the both of them, also thanks the the brand spanking new baby. Sleepless yet on cloud 9, they both had somehow guilted you into helping out on your spare time, just until they could figure out a better solution. A slight curve tugs at the corner of your lips at the distant memory of the night you met him… Kim Hanbin.

There used to be something so sweet, so deeply satisfied about the way his name rolled off your tongue. Just the fact that you knew you could utter his name and he’d turn around, be at attention to whatever it is you had to say. Used to. Lately, the utterance of his name just brings on tears and irresolute within your heart. The discomfort in your chest brings you back to the sound of the clerk at the front desk calling for your name.

“Miss Y/n?”

On your feet immediately, you near trip on the way to him, hands clutching a yellow manila folder that quite possibly will change your entire life.

“Before I enter your application, I am require by law to ask, Are you one hundred percent certain you want to go through with this.” He speaks up, a bit more wary this time unlike the bright smile he had given when your name was being called.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Is there anyone you’d like for me to call?” The vagueness in his question just goes out the window the second you caught onto the glance he passes at the place where Hanbin’s name would be.

“No one.”

“Alright, miss Y/n. I will now processed your request of dissolving your soulmate title application. If you can go ahead and go through door number one please. The doctor will be with you shortly.”

He smiles politely but you could see underneath that facade, a hint of sadness of a man watching a few too many times the breaking of soulmate. How or why someone would want this fucked up job, you honestly can’t understand. With one last glance and a small thankful smile for not prying at your sadness, you shut the door to room number one.

Now you know why the whole damn place smells of disinfectant. The room white, blindingly white from top to bottom, a black leathered medical bed sits neatly in the middle of it all, typical of a doctor office. A few monitors dark and silent, cabinets with locks and identical bottles inside lined the wall. The sanitary paper crinkle with the weight of your body sinking down onto the black leathered bed. Laying back, your eyes flutter shut from the impossible brightness of the room, seriously, how could a room be brighter than the sun outside.

Perhaps out of the sheer exhaustion of spending the last three nights staying up crying while pushing yourself to go through with this god forbid procedure that has your tired mind running back to that night.

You had heard a commotion, something about someone famous but at the time, the Queen of England herself could be sitting in front of you and your brain wouldn’t connect the dot even if she was wearing the crown and totting her corgi herd. No preparation would be enough to get you ready for food service job. Prop to all the food service worker, or any service worker out there really, ya’ll amazing. One second you were running dishes to table 3 then all of the sudden you were taking order at table 8. You felt like a rag doll being thrown in the tornado of hungry mouths, too impatient to be polite enough to be in public let alone a dining establishment. Your hands holding onto a tray full of those blue plastic cup filled to the rim with water, struggling a bit because who knew this job required you to have the physique of the Rock. You were struggling of course, all the way up until the tightening of your heartstring had you stop dead in your track.

There it was.

The rate your heart were accelerating had you mistaken it for a race car engine then Boom. One strong hammer left you paralyzed as noise blurred into distorted mumble. Your chest felt like it was ripping itself open to release all the pressure built up from what you had no idea. For a moment, you thought this was it, this is where your short life will end, heart attack at a tender age with no legacy to leave behind, no asset to your name. Then Boom. A second hammer had the tray of water tumbling out of your grip and you clutched your chest, eyes searching the crowd for something you didn’t know yet.

There he stood.

Kim Hanbin. So handsome even with just grey sweat, black worn out Converse, a red flannel that compliment him like a dream,  a bit of blond hair peeking out from underneath a black beanie to play. He stared at you, right through you and into your soul. His hand too, was clutching his chest... you wondered, was he nervous too? Did his palm grimy with sweat like yours were? At that moment you could feel the second heartbeat steading fast in your ribcage and everyone else disappeared. All you could see was those doe eyes, pale skin lit under the moonlight, glowing from the dirty yellowed light bulbs from countless night spent mingling with the scent of meat and smoke. Even with the open atmosphere of the outdoor bbq restaurant, your lungs felt like there was no oxygen left in the room as he parted the crowd toward you.

“Hi.” was all he said as he stared you down, eyes almost scrutinizing against every part of your body and soul.

“Hello.” You had replied.

The door creaking open reeling you back to the drab reality of the white room. A lady, can’t be much older than your sister saunters in with her Louboutin heels and a pristine white lab coat. She introduces herself as Janice, the state doctor before taking a seat next to where you’re laying. She rambles on about what you had no fucking clue as your mind tries its best to recall every sweet, albeit rare moments you had with Hanbin. Judging from the twenty signatures you signed before this and the ominous warning of every worker you dealt with so far, something tells you Hanbin won’t mean much after Janice is done.

“You’re certain you want to go through with this? No harm in backing out now, Y/n. I’d understand if you need to reschedule... Maybe speak to someone first about your decision?” She speaks with care dripping from her voice and for a split second you doubted yourself. The memories of those warm, loving brown eyes and the adorably shy smile drown your senses, forcing a smile on your lips. They were so excruciatingly loving that you wish with all your might it was you at the receiving end of them. You wish so hard that the first time those eyes laid upon you there was love but they were just blank, void of any emotion beside shock. Shock that you found out all too soon why... Sohee. He was so head over heels for the model with those elegant long legs, figure of a goddess, skin whiter than feather of swans, and giggle like sunshine. So much so that even the thought of meeting his soulmate was fearsome, then to actually finally meet you... Well, make sense why you’re sitting here in this room with some woman named Janice that was about to shove a giant needle into your heart from what you’ve read on the pamphlet in the waiting room.

“I wish everyone would stop asking me that…” You timidly speak up, chuckling slightly to lighten the mood, afraid of hurting the good doctor feeling but judging from the regret twisting up her soft features, it didn’t work.

“We just want to make absolute certain you’re okay with everything because once you started, even just one dose, everything could be altered.” You nod again and a silver box is now being pull out from one of those cabinet with lock. Janice opens it up, revealing 5 small glass vial and a syringe you now wish you didn’t have to befriend with. Explanation of details ensue but Hanbin fading smile is now permeating all your senses.

It was the awkward smile he had given you the 3rd time you had met up. He hadn’t intended for it to gone down this way, his soulmate in the same room as his crush. You knew that first night that something was wrong when his heartbeat failed to match up to yours but you chose to ignore it. From the grand story your best friend had told then retold then reiterate for safety the night she met Chanwoo, you knew that was a sign and it was nothing good. Big mistake on your part as you watch him followed her around like a lost puppy. Great shiny curls bounced as she waltzed around the party in that skin tight red dress. Her makeup glimmered in all the right spot under the soft light of the grand chandelier. They talked, they danced, they laughed while you sat, then grew green with envy, before walking home alone.

Hanbin was always nice. But that was it, he was just nice... a little bit guilty, feel sorry for you even. Unlike Chanwoo and your best friend, they were head over heels in love with each other, so much so that he cried for a whole hour straight the first time he had to tour and she was too busy to come with.They went on dates and he made the best effort to get to know her and cater to her needs. He camped out at her house, spent time with her family, and honestly, they might as well be married. Hanbin, he’s just nice. Who could blame him though, between a hot model crush and you, the girl who met him in tattered boyfriend jeans, an oversized t-shirt, hair in a giant messy bun that couldn’t save itself from embarrassment. You would honestly chose the other girl if given the choice. You felt, still feel guilty for tearing him apart. The idea of dissolving the relationship officially had been toying on your mind for awhile now but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it… After all, that was the only red string tying you to him, even if it’s unwanted, the only connection you got to still see his face once or twice a week.

Your resolve was true and clear until you overheard him talking to Jinhwan. You believe his precise words were “I couldn’t have met Y/n at a wronger time, truthfully. I mean, it’s so messed up, this whole thing.” You weren’t dumb. You knew something was wrong that night you met, as his eyes weren’t glossed over with hope and dream like yours did but again, stupidly, you couldn’t bring yourself to accept, too stubborn too prideful to admit that you’re just holding onto a hopeless reality.

Well, jokes on you now as your brain made a big long way back to Janice as she finished filling the syringe with the drug and was now rubbing a pad of alcohol over the skin above your heart.

“Are we ready? If you want to stop, say it now. This can leave permanent damage. Even just one dose, it could leave irreversible damage.” You nod again and a rush of pain worse than anything in this world rained down upon your already aching heart and you black out.

Somewhere in the same city, Hanbin collapses mid practice from a pain so great he could only has time to utter your name before he too being carry away to the bench at the corner of the practice room by Chanwoo and Junhoe. The pain feels so much like the first moment he had seen you, so similar yet why is there an ominous, almost morbid souring rising inside his chest. Hand over his chest, cold sweat breaking all over his body, Hanbin stares blankly at the rest of the concern plague boys with the utmost confusion on his face. The doctor had cleared him with a perfect health at last month check up so what the hell is this throbbing in his chest that feel awfully close to a heart attack.

Then it hits him… “Y/n!” Cold sweat breaking, he screams before tearing out of the room faster than rocket straight to your house. He didn’t know how many times he had pressed the redial button on the short 20 minutes drive to your house. He just remember pestering his manager to step on it despite the poor man pushing the speed limit to the max without risking any life. Hanbin spends the rest of the short walk to your front step praying to God you’d open up the door and complains about being too busy with work as always. If the 3 calls and 6 texts he had sent you this morning wasn’t alarming enough, this jolt to the heart is church bell apocalypse alarm going off. He had thought you were just busy even if it is a bit weird you had ignored him for that long. If there was anything hanbin could count on, it’d be that you’ll always answer his texts and calls no matter the hour. Before he could tap on the doorbell, the red wooden door to tour humble abode had already swung open but to his disappointment it was your mother behind it.

“Hanbin! What are you doing here?” Your mom has more glee in her eyes at the sight of her could be son in law visiting than she had when you came home from a month long trip.

“Uhm, hello Mrs. Y/l/n. Is y/n home?" He feels the wind being knocks out of his chest from running, and from not knowing.

"She didn't tell you? Oh my goodness this girl will give me a heart attack someday. I told her so many times to tell you before she leaves." Hanbin will get a heart attack right now of your mom didn't tell him where you were soon. If he didn't find you in the next second, it'll be a second too late.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Y/l/n. I'm kind of in a hurry and she's not picking up her phone." He smiles guilty for interrupting your mom but right now is not time for chit chat.  

"I'm sorry. Old lady trait, we just talk till oh gosh, we don’t stop talking now do we. I don't know where she is but her best friend should know. They said they were going away together for awhile seeing how it’s summer and all. You should ask your brother, what was his name chankyung, chansung?” She muses, you would’ve call her petty if you had heard because she knows his name but refuses to remember it on the account that somehow your best friend had gotten herself a soulmate before you.

“Chanwoo. Thank you so much. I’m sorry I have to rush out. I promise I’ll stay next time for dinner.” Hanbin runs off all the while bowing to your waving mom mom. His steps heavy with each passing second... Your mom had always been so lovely, reminding Hanbin so much of his own. He could see she loves you very much and you do her despite the constant bickering like cat and dog not even a second into a conversation. More than once he had found himself smiling like a fool watching the small quarrel you’d have with your mom as the the red door closing, before you squeezed in one last wave goodbye and a smile as a thank you for dropping you home. Yet never once did he let himself accept the dinner invitation to a home cooked meal despite the way your eyes sparked with hope and happiness every time your mom asked. Slowly, you stopped bother to wait for his answer and just head straight inside. Now, now he might never get that chance anymore if he surmises correctly.

“Jung Chanwoo, put your girlfriend on the phone.” He yelled, no sense nor patient left to be nice even though he knows the maknae had done nothing wrong except for being in love with the one person you confide your deepest secret in. Judging from the noise, the poor boy scrambles to give his love the phone without questioning.

“What do you want, Hanbin?” Your best friend sasses back, never was one to be gentle when it comes to Hanbin. She heard you cried too many times over not being the soulmate he asked for.

“Y/n, where is she?”

“Oh, not even a hello? wow, I’m hurt. I-”

“GODDAMN IT, WOMAN. WHERE’S MY SOULMATE?” Hanbin had always been a gentle soul. He never had the gut to hurt your feeling so never once did he admit to having a humongous crush the size of mount Everest on someone that wasn’t his soulmate. He kept you around with the small nice gestures and his kind words yet little did he knows, it hurt you way more to have false hope then only to watch him delicately wrapped the sweater warmed with his body heat around her dainty shoulders.

“S-She’s at the airport... her flight is in an hour and a half, go to terminal 3 right now if you wanna catch her.” Your dear best friend feels chill running down her spine from the low grunt of his voice rather than the usual sweet tone.

If he has any mind for mundane thought right now, Hanbin would be in utter shock at the ability of his spent legs to tear through the airport with such speed, all in hope of finding you on time. He’d also thanks heaven that you chose the slowest day and time to fly out of the smallest airport in the city, though at the moment, he couldn’t care less if either fan or pester reporter see him. He can’t be late, not now, he can’t let you down again.

Terminal 3 burst into view, bright from the glass panes lining the wall. His eyes frantically searches for the familiar tousles of hair and the figure he had come to memorize, never mind the worsening pain in his chest and the aching that has beginning to settle in his legs.

“Y/N!”

He screams and you feel yourself frozen in a pocket of time. Sure you had dreamt that he’d run to you, stop you from leaving like those iconic romcom scenes but realistically, how could he when you had left without a word. You chuckle to yourself before continuing your heavy steps toward the gate, in complete disbelief that you could still imagining such thing even with the shot of medicine to the heart. Even when you feel your shoulder being tug back, tumbling backward surely to hit the ground hard, the thought of Hanbin was stopping you were still preposterous. You had prepared to attack whoever it was but then how could it be... How could his voice still sound so realistic next to your ears... How.

“Y/n, stop, please... Please...”

Your body was being hold on tight yet you weren’t scare, why aren’t you scare? Fearful, your eyes avert the stranger’s gaze yet they’re also drinking in the sight of that familiar fabric and that comforting scent.

“H-Hanbin?” There he is, panic fills his eyes as they searches for any sort of emotion on your blank face... “Huh... so this is where this old thing had been.” Your eyes soften after a good minute of just staring at the face that was slowly losing meaning in your mind, listening to his pants as your heart tingles rather than the full blown palpitation you were used to whenever he faces you. Your fingers tracing out the edge of old red checkered flannel he had worn the first time you saw his handsome self. “I’ve been looking for it you know...”

“I, you left it at the dorm last time you were over.” He sighs, forehead resting against yours, hot breath fanning your face from the endless time of running.

“Ah... I thought I lost it.”

“I thought you didn’t want it anymore... Seeing how you’re leaving me and all.”

“How could I not want it... It’s the only thing left I have of you.” Your voice barely there, eyes relearning the lines of his features one last time before they lose all meaning. “So,you come to this neck of the wood often?” You ponder, wondering why is he being so affectionate with the way his left arm wrapping tight around your waist, right hand rubbing gentle circles on your back. Honestly, if anyone see now, they might really mistaken a boy seeing his girlfriend off, unwilling to let go of his love.

“How could you still joke right now... Why, Y/n?” His voice pained and truthfully, your heart feel at peace. No pain, no clenching, nothing. Wow, this drug really is miracle.

“It’s alright, Hanbin. I’m fine...” A dejected grin blooms on your lips as your fingers continue to trace out the seams and buttons of the endearing worn flannel. “I know you don’t like me so-”

“Don’t go and decide who I like and don’t like. Doing something this crazy, and on your own? You really are insane.” Before you could even finish formulating your thought, Hanbin stabs you in the heart once more.

“I- You don’t have to lie, Hanbin. I know you love Sohee... Wait, how did you-”

“Know you went through with the procedure?” He stole the words off your tongue before pulling down the collar of the white tee he had been wearing down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the sharp red lines etched deep onto his skin where his own fingers had clawed in desperation to alleviate the pain . Blooming dark on his perfectly milky skin a deep bruise mirroring the same one you have over your own heart, although his lacks the scab where the needle of the syringe once was. Your eyes widen in shock, fingers gently caress his silky soft skin with the utmost care, wincing as he flinches slightly from no doubt pain. “Y/n, how could you do something like that without telling me first? Are you crazy? Did it hurt a lot? I can’t imagine how much it hurt for you... Must be ten, hundred times compare to mine.”

“Hanbin, stop it.” Your voice wavering, breathy. How could he destroys all the resolve you had for the past 2 weeks with just a few sentences and one hug. You could feel your legs giving out even if your heart stilled and calmed under the affect of the drug.

“Does it still hurt? Let me see.” His words caring, accompany by the hand that was now pressing tight over the one you have atop your heart. “Can I see? I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m serious, Hanbin. Stop it.” Your words like ghost to his ears as he continues whatever it is he had planned.

“Please? How are you feeling?”

“Stop.”

“What’s wrong? Are you hurting again?”

“STOP. STOP. I SAID STOP. What do you think you’re doing.” Against everything you had ever wanted, you push him off with all your might, ripping the comfort and serenity he’s providing away. “You don’t love me. You’ve never love me. Please... Just let me go. I don’t want to be hurt anymore.” You exasperate and Hanbin feels his heart creaks wide open, bleeding raw yet at the same time he’s angry, angry you’re so blind as to not see it.

“Where is it?” He grumbles suddenly, tone changing faster than you could even comprehend.  “Y/n, where’s the rest of the drug. I know there’re more doses.” Before you could even realize what he was asking for, his hands already digging deep into your duffle bag, pulling out the silver box Janice had so carefully packed for your long trip. He opens it in haste without a  care in the world and before you could act, hanbin’s already dropping it on the floor and with all the pent up anger and sadness, he smashes them to pieces with each stomp of his feet.

“No, no, no, no, Hanbin. No stop.” You lunges at the bleeding vials, wanting, needing to salvage whatever that was left but he holds you back, with all his strength and love, he holds you in his arms.

“How could you be so fucking blind, Y/n? I fucking love you. How could you not see it, for months now, I fucking love you.” Rather than the reaction he had hoped for, his words only enraged you further, adding fuel to your already raging flames. You punch him hard in the chest before diving onto the useless pile of broken glass and stained box. You mutter words of incredulity that this was happening, that all the pity you endured, the hours of pain, the time you spent blacked out on that stupid hospital chair bed after shot, and most of all the effort it took to ignore all his attempts at reaching you. It was all a waste, spilling out like the medicine running free of its confinement, soaking through the box.

“Did you know how hard it was for me to get these? Kim Hanbin you crazy person.” You shot a glare his way but instead of guilt, anger upon fury was what evident on his face. “Calling me blind? what the fuck do you know about blindness... It’s not like you’ve ever see me when she’s around.”

“I don’t- Wow, honestly?” Frustration taut on his forehead as a grunt passes those lips that you thought only could whisper honey drip voice and sunshine. “You want to know about blindness? I’ll tell you. Blindness is when you’re so fucking obsess with staring at Sohee you completely missed out on all the things that’s wonderful about yourself. Blindness is when you could work toward love yet instead you chose to pity yourself while staring at Chanwoo and his girl. Blindness... Blindness is when you’re so hellbent on me not loving you that you’d go do something this fucked up without letting me know first.” His body drops onto the floor, hands reaching to stop your still frantic hands searching for any remnant of the medicine that could be salvage. Hanbin knows the tale all too well, after all, he was always a romantic unlike what you’ve come to believe about him. He’s all for the notion of meeting that someone he’s fated to be with for the rest of his life, to get to know them, learn to love the good and the bad. So it was natural that he decided to learn about, what he considers to be one of the most heartbroken act in the world, to rid yourself of your soulmate. He knows how the medicine would affect the host body, the pain, the aching, or at least to the extent the witness accounts explained in the many books he read. He also knows that each time a heart is subjects to the medicine, it loses a bit of its capability to love and that is the last thing he wants for you. He wants you all to himself, to have all the love your heart can produce and the thought of you going through that archaic torture all on your own shatters his soul. Even if it’s it’s not him that has your heart, Hanbin needs for you to be able to love with all your heart, to be happy. His voice soften as he pulls you to rest on his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. Elated that he got a chance to kiss you even if it’s not to your lips, sadden that this might be the last time he’s able to.  “You know what fucking blindness is? It’s when you’re so busy staring at everyone else that you missed all the glances I stole when you’re around. It’s when you chalked all the small things I do for you, all the love gestures I planned out because I’m so fucking infatuated with you, as me pitying you. It’s when you’re so blind to your own feeling that you dismissed mine because you think it’s somehow impossible for me to love you.” He sighs, this time gently onto your lips where he had just placed his own for a delicate kiss.

“I-I just thought you felt bad because...” You mutter back against his lips, not quite yet returning the kiss but in no way rejecting his touch.

“I fucking love you.  Nobody is pitying you, Y/n. I. Love. You. How many time do you want me to say it?” He pulls away, slightly ashamed that he had forced himself onto you even if it was in the smallest way he knows how. His eyes blown from being so close to you, he could still detect the floral perfume you had put on so many hours ago, and the slight hint of rose scented lip balm that always made your lips look so delectable. There wasn’t a hint of doubt nor that this was all an elaborate joke. His gaze, his voice, even the way he breathes are all so sincere.

“For the rest of your life...?” You whisper back, putting what little left your heart could still feel left for him on the statement, betting it all away for another chance. Hanbin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Moments ago you were pushing him away, hours before you were turning him down in the most hurtful way you could but now...

“Wha-?!”

‘For... the rest...of our lives?” Your voice loses its confidence as the boy still holding onto your limp body begins to retreat at the bombshell statement.

“This... you can still joke right now? Okay. I love you. I love you.” His embrace constricting, pressing your heart close to his and there it was again. The tiniest clench, like a baby being born into the world, so vulnerable yet so magnificent. Eyes wide, Hanbin pushes you away just enough to study your expression that was mirroring his, complete and utter shock. “I love you.” He said again, once more pressing your chest to his, bursting out in the heartiest of laugh when the kitten like jolt resonates through his heart again. He laughs, then cries, then something that sounds awfully lot like “I did it, I fixed your heart” ushers out of his lips as he pulls you onto your feet, hand clasping tight in yours. Yet when he begins to walk, a dead weight holding him back in place, wiping that smile off his face.

“I’m not leaving with you, Hanbin. I got a flight to catch.” A sudden rush of memories swirls in the air, stopping your happy reunion short.

“What? But, Y/n... I, we, our hearts synced... How could you still deny that I love you.” Appalls by your stubborness, he croaks out for the umpteenth time today, words of disbelief and shock.

“Just because my heart malfunctioned doesn’t mean anything changes.... Or anything you said to Jinhwan that one night” Your hand retreats from his loosening grasp, no doubt your words struck a nerve.

“How much did you hear?”

“Enough... enough to know this is all a lie.”  His mouth closing then opening like fish out of water, trying his best to tie it all together but you interrupt his thought once again. “Save it, Hanbin. Just admit to yourself that what you feel for me is pity. Go back to Sohee, I’m sure in time she’ll becomes your soulmate.”

“Shut up for one second, will you?” He retaliates. “This, this is exactly why I called you blind. You see- You hear one part of the whole then fill in the rest with your messed up view of everyone. You wanna know the rest of that story? or are you going to run away and sulk, risking a lifetime of happiness over a misunderstanding.” Fingers carding through his soft blond hair frustratingly, he stands his ground, awaiting your answer and when none came, he sighs in relief. “Good. I told hyung you couldn’t come at a worse time because yes, I didn’t love you when I first saw you. Because I was so occupied with trying to get over Sohee. She had found her life long partner and I was just a little boy crushing on her helplessly from the shadow. I said that because I knew I didn’t give you all that I could, all that you deserve from a soulmate. I know I neglected you but I was scared of messing up. I wanted things to be perfect and I guess I waited too long to tell you. ” He chuckles but his expression conveys perfectly how much pain he’s in, how messed up this whole situation is, and how much he blames himself. “I just want everything to be perfect for my perfect girl. If you had picked up your phone today, we would be on our first date right now. I had this whole big plan, take you to the zoo, then maybe a bit of shopping before we go to dinner. Then we’ll go to the pier at night, they’ve been having that food festival there. Have some food, a drink or two, maybe then I’ll have enough courage to kiss you.... Not breaking up in an airport. Now it’s too late.” Hands shoving deep in his pockets, his gaze averting yours onto the boring white tiles, scuffed up with endless stream of passenger. A small sniffle reaches your ears and  before you know what was happening, your heart had overridden your brain as you lean forward to pull the shivering boy into your arms.

“It’s not too late...” Was all you could say before he already captures your lips in another kiss. His hands rough against your body, like a kid desperately clinging onto the thin restraint of his favorite balloon that could float away at any second but you didn’t mind it one bit. It feels so good to be hold, to be needed after months of standing on the sideline. Hanbin didn’t really care that he might come off as desperate with the way his lips hastily catching yours the second you pull away. His kisses like blows to your heart and head as your mind dizzy with the weight of everything that had just happened. Your hands found purchase around his tear stained cheeks, holding him back just enough to search for his eyes.

“Hanbin... Stop for a second.” You whine when he crashes his lips against yours once more, not caring that your hands were doing their best to hold him back.

“No, Y/n. You’re gonna overthink again if I stop. Just a little bit more, baby.” You almost hated when he use that whiny voice of his, almost.

“Baby? Where did that name come from?” You quip, a small smirk tugging at your lips as your fingers work their best to wipe of the few lingering tears raining from those beautiful eyes, well more like struggling to wipe his cheeks as he resists, wanting nothing more to continue his show of affection.

“I- uh... I... Shhh.”

“Let’s go, lover boy. People are beginning to stare...” You eyes the passerby warily, acutely aware of the fact that you two had just put on a very public and dramatic show. “I’ll come home with you if I can have the red flannel back, deal?”

Glancing around, his face suddenly lights up brighter than a red Christmas light at the small giggle and whispers of an older couple something about “puppy love”. Suddenly your resistant was being fully accepted as he pulls you up in his arm, hoisting the heavy duffle bag onto his shoulder. Arm holding you close, Hanbin insisting on pressing kisses to your forehead and hair as you both step toward a future radiant with hope and love. “Deal! deal! You can have this one, and my whole closet. Whatever you want, baby. Just, come home. We’ll figure it out together, okay?” Shedding quickly the old worn thing he had never think twice about throwing onto the ground after a sweaty game with Chanwoo, or stuffing it in the corner of his room till it takes on a strange scent, Hanbin is just glad you’re finally listening to him, finally looking at him. If he can’t get the damn thing over your body in the next second, it’d be too late. “Are you sure this is the only thing you want, babe? I can get you new one, better one...” Taking a moment for yourself, you silently bask in the overflowing warmth as Hanbin wraps the red flannel with the slight scent of sweat around your body, happily chatting away.

“I just want this one.You know, I didn’t think you would be this cheesy...” You quip, feigning disgust at the embolden wet kiss he just landed on your lips, deep down overjoy that your heart has begun to learn the rhythm of that foreign beat of his heart.

“Did you think the boys were kidding when they complain that I’m too clingy, or into skinship way too much?” Cheeky with a smirk on his lips and playful glint in his eyes, he pulls you close once again, pressing your face into his chest as you both awaits the arrival of his manager.

“I mean, I didn’t think it’s this bad...”

“Well, get used to it missy. From the look of things, you’re not leaving my side for the next couple years, just for safe measure, in case you do something crazy again.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Crazy in love with you is what I am

The boy in the Chef Apron. (Coming Soon)

[mortalaura]

A Little Wicked [a Starscream playlist]

- No one calls you honey when you're sitting on a throne -

Edit: Spotify version  by @dusty-shelf​ (not a perfect match but mostly complete)

[Song list under the cut]

Valerie Broussard - A Little     Wicked

No one calls you honey when you're sitting on a throne

One of these days a comin', I'm gonna to take that boy's crown

There's a serpent in these still waters, lying deep down

To that King I will bow, at least for now

One of these days a comin', I'm gonna to take that boy's crown

Bishop Briggs - Dark Side

Acting like I'm heartless, I do it all the time

That don't mean I'm scarless, that don't mean I'm fine

Twin Shadow - To The Top       

Oh I know it’s not the right time tonight But I won't move until this stops We go back to the top

Mikky Ekko - Watch Me Rise       

I'm still standing, I'm still climbing Even when the best are falling, You say, say my name Cause once I get my head above the clouds I'm never coming down

Tove Lo - True Disaster        

Keep playing my heartstrings faster and faster You can be just what I want, my true disaster

Grace [Ft. G-Eazy] - You Don't     Own Me

Don't tell me what to do And don't tell me what to say Please, when I go out with you Don't put me on display

Halestorm - You Call Me A Bitch     Like It's A Bad Thing

You call me a freak like that means something Can't get your way so you insult me I think we know the rest Get it off your chest I don't give a shit

I love it when you call me a bitch like it's a bad thing

Lady Gaga - I Like It Rough

Cause it's a hard life With love in the world And I'm a hard girl Loving me's like chewing on pearls

Porcelain And The Tramps - King     Of The World

'Cause I'm the fucking king of the world Do as I please So get up and get out and I'll show you What it takes for me to control you

Kerli - Hurt Me

Hurt me! See me crawling on the floor, Is that what you've been longing for? Is this enough, do you want more? Go on, if it makes you soar!

Halsey - Castle

And now my neck is open wide, begging for a fist around it Already choking on my pride, so there's no use crying about it

Bebe Rexha - Cry Wolf

Where the grass is green, but underneath you're cold and hollow Yeah, the words are sweet but no see they're hard to swallow So sick of your crooked smile and your counterfeit soul

Fall Out Boy - I Don't Care     (Machine Shop Remix)

I don't care what you think, As long as it's about me The best of us can find happiness in misery

GUNSHIP - Fly For Your Life

I got spirit, I got wings

I got fire in my lungs

I don't know what you're fighting for

You better fly for your life

Sia - Unstoppable

All smiles, I know what it takes to fool this town I'll do it 'til the sun goes down and all through the night time Oh yeah, oh yeah, I'll tell you what you wanna hear

Porcelain Black - Pretty Little     Psycho

You're lookin' crazy, you're lookin' wrong It looks like we're gonna get along And once I've got you, it's a fact Baby, there's no turning back

Archive - Hatchet

Every time I see you Look me in the eye I look straight back 'Cause a part of me will die

Simon Curtis - I Hate U

Betrayed me, played me, slayed me Hurt me like I've never been hurt before Disowned me Only For the other people you decided that you wanted in your life more Made your bed now lie in it

Mother Mother -  Reaper     Man

Oh yeah I'm an ugly mess Not in the face, but in the head I'm thinking that was best not said But I say it anyway, then I say it again

Melanie Martinez - Mad Hatter

Over the bend, entirely bonkers You like me best when I'm off my rocker Tell you a secret, I'm not alarmed So what if I'm crazy? The best people are

Egypt Central - Backfire

If I could leave this town forever It seems like no ones on my side Duck your head and run for cover Cross that bridge and just move on Save myself but lose another All my innocence is gone

Digital Daggers - Out Of My     Head

I know what's underneath the mask What seemed so good at first is under attack I'm in the wreckage, damage done It almost killed me

Downplay - The One Who Laughs     Last

This is a battleground, I'm caught in the crossfire

My words are weaponry and I'm waiting patiently

You win the battle now but I will return the fire

'Cause I'd crawl on broken glass

To be the one who laughs last

Susanne Sundfør - Delirious        

I hope you got a safety net 'Cause I'm gonna push you over the edge The strangest thing, deliberate Done with intent, without repent

Marina & The Diamonds -     Blue

No, I don’t love you No, I don’t care I just want to be held when I’m scared And all I want is one night with you Just 'cause I’m selfish I know it’s true

Of Monsters and Men - Human

Cage me like an animal A crown with gems and gold Eat me like a cannibal Chasing the neon throne

First Aid Kit - Master     Pretender

I always knew that I was young But with a head held high and a shotgun I could fool almost anyone

I never expected to be struck By the fatal hands of fortune or by sheer bad luck

Snow Patrol - What If the Storm     Ends?

Just for a minute The silver forked sky Lit you up like a star That I will follow

AURORA - Murder Song     (5,4,3,2,1)

He holds the gun against my head I close my eyes and bang I am dead I know he knows that he’s killing me for mercy

Royal Deluxe - Born For This

I get hit, and I might start bleeding But I'm not on the floor staring at the ceiling I'll give you something to believe in About to show you now that it's more than just a feeling I was born for this

Rihanna - Sledgehammer

I hit a wall, I thought that I would hurt myself Oh I was sure, your words would leave me unconscious And on the floor I'd be lying cold, lifeless But I hit a wall, I hit 'em all, watch the fall You're just another brick and I'm a sledgehammer

Laura Mvula - You Work for Me

Dragged up, kicking and screaming Tied to the bottom of the sea I really don't care what you believe in Just remember one thing You work for me

Zedd, Kesha - True Colors

All my life, one page at a time I'll show you my, my true colors No, no no no I won't apologize for the fire in my eyes

The Prodigy - Spitfire

Fitz and the Tantrums - Burn It     Down

Let's sit behind this fortress I built it just to keep the whole world out It wasn't meant for you Look who's left a prisoner

Bishop Briggs - River

Tales of an endless heart

Cursed is the fool who's willing

Can't change the way we are

One kiss away from killing

Don't you say, don't you say it

One breath it'll just break it

So shut your mouth and run me like a river

Hoobastank - First of Me

I here a voice inside It's crowning to a scream 'cause I can live the lie I am just what you see I'm not the next of them I am the first of me

Lissie - I Don't Want To Go To     Work

I don't wanna go to work You don't pay me what I'm worth Can't make me go home now and go to bed I don't want to go to work All my dreams just turned to dirt 'Cause pretty soon there won’t be none left

Sia - Never Give Up

And I won't let you get me down I'll keep gettin' up when I hit the ground Oh, never give up, no, never give up no, no, oh

Lauren Aquilina - King

You've got it all You lost your mind in the sound There's so much more You can reclaim your crown You're in control Rid of the monsters inside your head Put all your faults to bed You can be king again

[anxious-armadillo]

My head and heart are torn into pieces.

The Devil comes to my doorstep again, falling apart. Again. I start shaking and my anxiety flares just before I see his truck in my driveway. Makes sense. I always start shaking when he's around, because I lose all self control when I'm in his presence, and I know today is going to be bad.

I walk out to meet him in his truck. He's shit faced. Sobbing. Ash from his cigarette all over his pants. I hand him the pocket watch I gave him months ago. The one he threw in my face a few hours ago before he screamed "Fuck you and fuck you." And called me a whore. I was sitting in the passenger seat of her car. He'd spit on her hood and punched it. Twice. Because he'd been figured out. Because I'd made out with a random guy in front of his face. Just to spite him. I knew he wouldn't hit me. So I stood in front of the guy I'd kissed, while she held him back and we glared at each other like animals waiting to pounce through it all. But that's a different story for a different day.

He stumbles out of his truck. Eventually. Hands me ciders, cigarettes, and a flower. I set them aside and he comes at me quick. I'm not sure if I should dodge him or catch him. I'm so shocked by the sudden movement that I freeze up. His arms wrap around me and he hugs me tighter than I've ever felt him hug me before. His whole body shakes against mine and he repeatedly apologizes.

I'm so confused that all I can do is hold him. Offer him a little bit of peace. He'd been talking about killing himself on Sunday all week. And it happens to be Sunday. He tells me again that he's leaving today. That he's going up to the mountains where no one will find him. That he's not scared. And that it'll all be okay. And not to be sad.

We spend time outside laying in my yard and I watch him as he speaks of killing himself in such a way that makes it seem okay.

As if he's accepted it. As if the mere thought of no longer existing puts him at peace. He's borderline catatonic. And for once in my life I'm scared to the point of being numb.

In some horrifying way, I've almost accepted the idea of him no longer existing. It feels like he's come to say his last goodbye. And part of me is okay with that. Part of me is frantic trying to keep him here without diving back into to the cycle.

He picks me more flowers from my yard and shows me how spit bugs live inside those balls of spit. I never knew they did. I'd never seen one before. And it blows my mind.

Shortly thereafter he's pacing in my yard, and a tiny grasshopper lands on my hand. I jump a little before I start really looking at it. When I mention it, he walks closer bends over to look at it, and quickly licks it off my hand. I don't know how. And I'm both shocked and amused. I don't know what to say. So I just gasp. Sigh. Call him by name, "Oh my gosh _______! You're insane! Why?" Its pathetically cute and utterly unexpected. He opens his mouth to say "He'll be fine." And the damn thing jumps off his tongue unhurt. It's hard not to laugh. It's hard not to admire the fearlessness and wild that runs within him.

He takes his shirt off and lays in the grass next to me. He knows. He knows that I have no self control and that my loneliness will always get the best of me. He knows that his tan tattooed skin shines beautifully in the sunlight and that I cannot help but to touch things that glisten.

I know his drunk though. I know it comes with waves of happy and sad. So I take these moments of peace and silliness as they come. Ride it out with him.

Hating someone and somehow loving them at the same time is a nightmare. A week ago I was disgusted by the thought of him. Now he's at my house. His head on my shoulder, my hands in his hair. He cries as he says, "How do you calm me? Nobody calms me... but you. You do. I don't understand it."

Was he setting the stage?

I try my best to remain distant. Until I accidentally knock a bottle out of his hands and jump as it hits the concrete. I begin to apologize profusely. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I didn't mean to knock that out of your hands. I'm sorry."

He stops me and asks, "Why do you apologize like that?" Instinctively I look down, and tell him "I don't know. I just do." Gentle hands lift my chin and I look at him and halfheartedly smile. He looks right passed it. Straight into my soul. And damn near jumps back off my patio when he finds what he's looking for. I feel it. I feel him pull it out of me. He gasps. And the look in his eyes suddenly changes.

He both of my hands in his and says, "Your ex..." and the fear in my eyes shows. The blood in my face drains and I grow cold and pale. I try to look away but he puts his delicate hands on my face and guides my eyes back to his. "Look at me. Don't look away...your kids dad... did he? It all makes sense. Everything makes so much sense now. Oh sweet girl..." he drops to his knees and wraps his arms around my waist, leans his head into my stomach and cries. "My mom was abused by my biological father. I can't fucking stand people who abuse women. I'm so sorry you went through that. I'll beat his ass. That makes me so angry. I'm so so sorry. Don't EVER apologize to me or ANYBODY like that. You don't have to. I'll kill them if they ever put their hands on you like that."

And suddenly why he wants to kill himself makes sense. But even that doesn't make sense. And I am so caught offguard that I'm dumbfounded. Speechless. Scrambling for words.

He starts in with stories of his childhood... and it's painfully honest. The kind of honesty that had kept pulling me back in. I try to not let it affect me. But it does.

We go back inside and he notices my keyboard. He looks at me and asks if he can play it. I know how he plays. It's beautiful. Emotional and dark. It pulls on my heartstrings and makes me want to fall in love. But I hand it to him anyway. He plays all the pretty things. And fools around with funky sounds.

We laugh and cry together that day. Fuck on and off for hours. Until we fall asleep together again.

The next morning he leaves when I have to go to work. I work through the day before I have a complete mental breakdown in my car outside my house.

I screamed the whole way home. And when I finally got to my house I sat in my car for hours crying. Not wanting to go into my house.

He feels it though. He's in my head. He ends up driving out to my house. Brings me cigarettes and his homemade bath bombs. He comes up to the passenger door and sits with me in my car for another half an hour or so.

I don't understand how the person that makes me hate myself so much... brings me so much comfort at the same time. I don't understand any of it. I don't understand why I can't tell him no. Or why I turn into a spineless shit show when I'm in his presence. Or why I could somehow justify hurting an innocent woman I deeply care about.

I feel guilty and ashamed because of what I did to her by sleeping with him. I told her. And immediately sensed the disconnect. And THAT is what started the mental breakdown. I wanted to help her and I failed.

So when I get home from the coast the next day and find he's on another drunken bender trying to get out of the house, I react instinctually and offer to take him on a drive. I don't want to go home anyway. Of course he obliges.

We argue back and forth over where we're going. Finally settle on drinks at Carlos's. And he turns mean. I tell him that we need to leave. That if we're going to fight, we're going to do it outside where we don't cause a scene. He says he'll walk home. But he can hardly even walk straight. Eventually I'm able to get him in my car. It takes a lot of arguing and asking him "What the fuck?!"

We head toward the mountains. But he wants his truck. I tell him no. He grabs the door handle and I slam on the brakes. (You wanna act crazy, we'll act crazy.) I tell him that we've done this before. And ask him how it turned out. He shakes his head and releases his grip.

We finally settle on going back to his house to get his truck, on one condition; I'll be the one driving it.

While we're there, he needs to grab some of his stuff. We end up spending roughly an hour in his bedroom. He cries over the anniversary of his dogs death. Holds the box containing his dogs ashes as he sobs loudly. I can't push him right now. I sit with him and reassure him. I tell him that we'll be in jussss truck and if he wants to, we can take him with us. He wraps those ashes in a blanket and declines that offer. Lays what's left of that dog on his bed and walks toward the bathroom.

I watch him slam his head against the bathroom door and I jump up off the bed and yell, "Knock it the FUCK off! Get your shit and let's go." He says he needs to brush his hair. That he hadn't showered yet. Not since he was at my house on Monday. He struggles pulling a brush through his hair and says, "Oh I know! Let's cut this all off." And reaches for trimmers. I grab them out of his hands and tell him to knock it off again.

I end up brushing his hair and roll my eyes when he says "I don't let ANYBODY brush my hair", pull harder and make his head bow when he starts talking shit. And after the sun sets, we finally get ready to leave.

I grab his keys and step into the driver's seat. He fights me on it. He wants to drive. But I'm not giving in. He takes a seat in the passenger seat and pouts. He says he hates not driving. That he's got passenger anxiety. I tell him I know that, but he's too drunk to drive. I start his truck and put it in reverse.

We get going and he asks if we can stop at the little store on the way out. Okay, fine. So I pull in. I notice he grabs his spare truck key on the way in and I take note of which pocket it's in. While we're in there he tries to grab the keys out of my hand. But he's unsuccessful I always slip a finger through the keyring. And while he's not paying attention I slip my hand in his pocket and grab the spare.

I pay for my shit and stay one step ahead so I can get to the driver's door first. It works. We head out before he tells me to pull over. I do.

We sit for almost another hour before we come to the agreement that he can drive the back roads but if he fucks up once, I'm taking over again.

He drives perfectly up the mountain. We park, start looking for firewood, and he tries to start the fire about 6 times before I tell him to move over. I tell him, "Men don't like it when women can start fires when they can't." I know that the backhanded insult won't give him the chance to deny help. It's a challenge he doesn't think I can back up. I get it started first try.

He tells me "That's... actually really impressive. I'll never admit you started that fire though." I laugh and say "Of course not. I know you too well to think otherwise."

Once the fire is roaring, he lays out a sleeping bag and we lay down. His whole attitude changes. He becomes grateful instead of hateful. Tells me, "This is incredible. I've never done anything like this. Ever. Normal people don't do this. This is awesome." He thanks me repeatedly.

And then we dance. We dance to sentimental songs. I put on Oxygen by Dirty Heads. And he tells me that his roommate, our mutual friend, torments him with this music whenever he disappears. Because whenever he disappears he's always disappearing with me. And I tell him that I put this song on because I like the way his body moves to it.

By about 2:3o we're tired of scavenging for wood. The fire is going out and It's beginning to rain. He misses his bed and he tells me he's sad that we have to leave because he was really enjoying this. Andi know that's true because the inner child in him was at play all night. From pretending to be gay to pretending to be a cowboy to just being in awe of the situation. It's a sight to see when he's happy.

As soon as we hit cell service he says, "Don't judge me, but I really want to listen to this song." And he turns it on. We roll through our little small town blasting Artpop by Lady Gaga. He's smiling now. And dancing in the driver's seat. The way his body moves to the music is one of the things that initially drew me in to him. And I'm in awe again. The guitarist for a death metal band is dancing, singing, and smiling to a Lady Gaga song. Hitting all the notes, "We could, we could belong together." And as we drive under streetlights I forget about how truly fucked up things really are.

That happiness on his face and the lyrics to that song make everything disappear. And it shouldn't.

I wonder if I took living in the moment too far. Or if the alcohol use has clouded my brain. I look away because I don't want to fall in love again and I can feel myself smiling in admiration.

But the next morning, we make love. We hit together twice. He's one of few men that have been able to make me orgasm on their dick. The ONLY one who's ever hit it at the same time with me. And it happened twice this time. That fucks me up today...I wonder again why I can't say no. But I know that's probably the main reason right there.

I'm so fucking torn between this shit that I don't know what to do. But I'm realizing patterns and cycles I keep falling into and I'm ready to consult a professional for help now. I am so tired of hurting other people because I can't say no. I'm tired of hating myself for acting on impulse. Something has got to give. Something has got to change. And I've proven to myself that I can't do that alone.