#hey everyone who feels doomed like me. we’re not. i’m finally realizing it
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apathyfairy · 1 year ago
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life is so fucked up because everyone wants you to be someone at 17 and have your life figured out by the time you graduate high school at 18 but let me tell you!!!! only now in my late 20s am i finally starting to understand who i am as a person and what i want from life!!!! society literally dooms us by telling us that if you don’t have your shit together by 25 you might as well give up but they’re wrong!!!! 20 and 30 really are still so young!!! you have to grow and learn and that all takes time it doesn’t happen in your teens!!!!
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seeminglyseph · 7 months ago
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I beat Nere fucking twice but the first time I realized I forgot to barter a deal for the dueger the team up with me, and I lost out on a bunch of stuff, and then at the last fucking second I fell in the fucking lava and it was *just* Cin, and he would not be revived and would not get out fast enough to not die and so I could not revive them and I just got trapped like. No main character.
And like. I guess Withers will only revive people for your main character not your party members??? Bitch. Absolute asshole behaviour. Or I came at it all wrong. No idea. Either way I had finally cleared the stupid thing despite accidentally aggroing the whole room a couple times by detonating the wall too soon and suddenly everyone is like “hey! Stop blowing up the wall and being an enemy! Time to attack!” I which is a pain in the ass like fucking back up I said I was detonating the thing. Your fucking fault. Gods almighty.
Is very fun playing a Lolth Drow and interacting with other Lolth Drow and they’re still your enemies and the dialogue that best covers it is like “try to take it as a compliment.”
I think I absolutely adore that kind of fictional shithead. “Honestly, you’d be insulted if I didn’t try.” Is some of my favourite sort of “I come from a backstabbing society of sociopaths and assholes” it’s part of the appeal of playing Lolth Drow. Just being like “yeah, I am Drow, I have absolutely no allegiance to the other Drow, I expect absolutely no allegiance from them. We are are all doing the crab in the bucket thing to such a high degree that the closest thing to seeming like we’re on the same side is that if something else falls in the bucket we all team up to tear it apart. That’s why everyone thinks we’re on a team, if they get trapped in the bucket with us we will fuck them up together but it’s because we’re so desperately out for ourselves that outside competition has even less right to survive than inside competition.”
This is not a commentary on real life I just think they’re delightful as characters. They can be evil angst and murder factories. The way Astarion got abruptly kidnapped out of his absurd murder den is how I’m imagining Cin. It’s like “one second I was part of this stupid ‘Menzoberranzan’s Next Top Model Assassin’ and now I have to figure out how to make friends and influence people while trying not to feel like the sky is going to eat me. And I have literal brain worms. What the fuck. Absolutely bullshit.”
And like. No I’m not aiming for the “evil” playthrough. Just the like… asshole playthrough. I don’t know how much the game is programmed to have a difference but the point is like. Doing morally ambiguous things to effect a positive result. Team up with the Ogres… and lead them into an unbalanced fight so I still get that circlet, and also eventually destroy the goblin camp and help the Tieflings. Lie cheat and steal so I have enough power to eventually blast my way through things, make allies with questionable people and let some people get killed if in the game it seems reasonable for my character to be apathetic. (Sorry those two brothers who are hassling Auntie Ethel, you were doomed by the narrative anyway, one day I might rescue your sister, depending on my level)
I like the way BG3 is approaching morally grey options because a lot of games are just like “these are the bad options and these are the good options” from what I’ve played in my limited experience, so far playing this it’s been a lot of fun to just be like “this is the shithead option” where the shithead option still lets me gain approval and advance things and be like. An overall good force in the world while being kinda a shit. They’ve realized that a lot of folks who play DnD really wanna backtalk people. I know for a fact I was bad for it at the table and I’m eternally grateful I managed to get laughs instead of pissing people off.
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versadies · 4 years ago
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Hello! Can i request scaramouche x reader (before dating) where the reader is very optimistic and happy-go-lucky and a scaramouches assistant?
—THE TERRIFYING AND THE JOYOUS, a hc.
penpal: i love opposite attract relationship so thank you for this request 👊👊👊
pairing/s: scaramouche x gn!reader
sypnosis: in which the loneliest harbinger of all has one friend.
warning/s: ooc scaramouche (?), toxic (this is scaramouche we’re talking about), threats (harmless?), mild swearing.
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-> everyone who knows the terrifying scaramouche will agree that whoever is his assistant must’ve suffered a lot from the harbinger.
-> consider them surprised when they realized that one of the most joyous fatui members known around the organization is scaramouche’s one and only assistant and the fact that you don’t act like you’re his assistant.
-> i think he didn’t intend on having an assistant, since he has his subordinates to do the dirty work. he probably has one just to handle his busy schedule or because he got so annoyed with a subordinate that he decided to hire an assistant to not deal with any subordinates at all.
-> during your first months with the guy, he’ll treat you like how he treats everyone. harsh and insensitive.
-> “hey, call one of those idiots who are assigned on that mission and tell them to go here— oh and drop that look on your face will you?”
-> “cancel the trip to liyue. you better do it right now or you’re fired.”
-> and people are wondering how the hell you’re still sane from how scaramouche treats you
-> as his assistant, he def makes it hell-like.
-> when you arrive to his office, he’ll give you many duties such as: visiting a visitor that he’s supposed to meet but doesn’t want to because the visitor is an ass, acquire some resources for a mission, buy some items in case scaramouche doesn’t have the time for it, clean up his office while he’s away, etc.
-> honestly, it’ll probably take a year or so for scaramouche to act comfortably around you. when he does, it’s most likely because of how he’s used to your presence to the point where he always calls your name and didn’t realize you’re somewhere far away.
-> he’ll still treat you harsh though— just not threatening like before.
-> scaramouche won’t get used to your attitude at all. he feels weird whenever you get so joyous for little reasons but never comments on it anymore.
-> as he starts to notice you a lot, the harbinger will start to wonder why a person who is full of positivity be a part of the fatui. he’ll be suspicious of you and think that you’re a spy.
-> at first, he wanted to request for another fatui agent who can be his assistant instead, but after hearing from you that the tsaritsa is the one who sent you, he knew he was doomed.
-> but after many investigations and logic, he’ll be frustrated with how there are no signs of you being a spy. all he has is information on your background (which didn’t help at all). he then decided to not dwell on you being a potential threat to him and just be cautious around you.
-> most of his suspicion washed away when u protected him from a certain astrologist’s attack when you two were investigating on meteors that have fallen and made people fall asleep. the fact that you’re willing to sacrifice for him is definitely something a spy wouldn’t do.
-> “i’m just doing my job as an assistant, boss.” you’d say happily when scaramouche asked harshly why you protected him (despite you knowing he can handle by himself just fine).
-> by the time scaramouche is finally comfortable around you, he’ll treat you nicer than the others. he’ll start to increase your payday, will ask if you have eaten yet, make sure you’re by his side by glancing on you whenever you two walk together around the lands teyvat could offer, etc.
-> and yes, the way he does this is not as affectionate as you might think.
-> “what do you mean i increased your salary? i don’t even care how much you get paid.”
-> “did you eat lunch yet? wait, no? are you an idiot or what—?! when you’re getting hungry, don’t try to escape your duties as my assistant just to eat. it’s your fault for not eating yet.”
-> “why am i glancing back at you? well obviously i’m just checking if you’ll stab me in the back! just because you’re my assistant doesn’t mean i trust you wholly.”
-> scaramouche doesn’t know why but he often feels guilt swallowing him every night whenever he speaks ill at you.
-> me? feeling guilty for some assistant? pathetic, he’d thought.
-> since you’re a happy-go-lucky and optimistic person, you’d give compliments to other people right?
-> well congratulations, you’re now scaramouche’s ego booster.
-> “well done sir, your enemies are no match for your powerful vision.”
-> “the tsaritsa will be pleased with the outcome of this mission, boss.”
-> ngl, scaramouche would find your personality innocent. he’ll either have the urge to protect you or have dark thoughts about it.
-> he’ll definitely defend you if he hears a single person badmouthing about you. whether or not it’s a harbinger, a fatui agent— he’ll use whatever he has to his advantage and make them regret in even looking at you in such a bad light.
-> if there’s somehow a time when scaramouche falls in love with you, he will take a long time to even confess about it. why, you ask?
-> it takes a long time for this man to finally accept that he fell in love.
-> i’d think scaramouche would soon realize that he does love you when you’re away for a long time. when he does, he’ll try to either keep it to himself or try to ignore it until it becomes too irresistible.
-> he’ll start to lowkey try to get closer to you by taking his advantage as your superior. oh, you do your paperwork in your home? well would you look at that, you now have your own office besides scaramouche’s. oh you don’t follow scaramouche whenever he walks around inazuma for his errands requested by the tsaritsa? oh looks like you have to follow him and assist him in every way you can.
-> the choice of being oblivious to scaramouche’s (failed) advances is definitely up to you. either way, it’s either you wait for a longass time for him to confess, confront him about your feelings yourself or none of you are planning to confess at all.
-> either way, when the time is right, you’ll definitely be considered as someone he considers as a companion, if not friend or lover.
-> cue slow burn 🤌🤌
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hannahhasnofriends · 3 years ago
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happier | dream
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summary: based off the song happier by olivia rodrigo!
pairing: dream x reader
warnings: angst, break ups, this is just fucking sad lmao, real names are used (srry not srry)
word count: 1.2k
a/n: i love olivia rodrigos new album i literally have not listened to anything else since it came out omfg😎 also i think i like this fic?? idk gimme some thoughts n feedback :)
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We broke up a month ago Your friends are mine, you know I know You've moved on, found someone new One more girl who brings out the better in you And I thought my heart was detached From all the sunlight of our past But she's so sweet, she's so pretty Does she mean you forgot about me?
"Hey guys! I've missed you all so much." I hug Sapnap tightly and move on to the next person I was greeting.
A "reunion" we were calling it, it'd been a year since the SMP ended and everyone wanted to get into touch again. It was bittersweet seeing everyone , it seemed like we'd grown up so much since then. Hell, I know I have.
"Hey darling, " I turn and see Niki, I missed her so much. We were the first female streamers on the SMP, she'd been my best friend. "How are you?"
"I'm good, really." I could see the sympathy in her eyes. I pretended not to notice when everyone did a double take when I walked into the room, they really thought I wasn't going to come today.
"That's good, I've missed you." She had a tight smile on her face. "You know he's coming today, right?"
I swallowed the lump in my throat, I knew someone was going to ask. It was fine, I had prepared myself for the questions and stares. It'd been 6 months, half a year, 6 damn full moons since we'd ended. We share the same friends, it was hard knowing they were going to pick sides, we both knew it wasn't going to be mine.
"Clay? Yeah, I know. Don't worry, we've both moved on. We're adults and I don't need to hide from him. We're friends!" I was lying through my fucking teeth. I saw his instagram posts, the subtweets, and everything else that had her named burned into it.
"Ok, I just wanted to check in. I know we all took the erm- break-up pretty hard." Her eyes avoided mine but I know she truly meant well by everything she was saying. "Anyway, I'm going to say hi to a few others. I really want us to talk more, ok?"
She squeezed my arm as she was walking off, I nodded my head even though I probably wouldn't be able to bring myself to message her after this.
I took a deep breath and eyed my other company. I was sticking out like a sore thumb, everyone was laughing and enjoying themselves. Honestly, it'd probably be best to make a cowardly dash before he showed up.
Just as I'd made up my mind, I saw it. The main doors opened and there they were. Well. Too damn late for that.
He was as tall and gorgeous as he was 6 months ago and she was stunningly perched on his arm. The worst part wasn't how goddamn good they looked, it was how you could just tell they were right. You could simply glance in their direction and tell she was nice and kind and he was completely devoted to her.
Oh, I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier
Just like that, all the air in the room had been sucked out. I was doomed.
As he made his way around the room, his eyes finally found mine. His smile faltered and I could tell he was taken aback. I averted my eyes quickly, this was so stupid.
“Y/n! Hi!” I jumped as I heard his voice, sneaky little bastard. I forced my best smile on my face as I turned to face them. She was standing next to him, still arm in arm but she stayed silent.
“Hey! How’s it going.” I pressed my lips together, he seemed so… ok? His eyes no longer had those dark circles and the cuts on his knuckles look healed.
“I’m good! How about you?” He tilts his head, curious.
“I’m doing good, too. Pretty busy, but you know.” I nodded along to what I said, it wasn’t a complete lie.
Abruptly, she clears her throat and side eyes Clay, obviously wanting something. “Oh, right! This is Grace.”
“Hi, I’ve heard great things about you.” She smiles so warmly, she seems so great. I could feel the jealously sinking into my skin, it was suffocating.
“Hello, it’s really nice to meet you.” This time I really was lying. But I couldn’t tell her the truth. How I couldn’t let her boyfriend go.
And do you tell her she's the most beautiful girl you've ever seen? An eternal love bullshit you know you'll never mean Remember when I believed You meant it when you said it first to me? And now I'm pickin' her apart Like cuttin' her down will make you miss my wretched heart But she's beautiful, she looks kind She probably gives you butterflies
She kept up the small talk with me. I learned she was an artist and slightly older than him. She taught art to kids on the weekends and her parents were still married. She even volunteered to help me move.
I noticed the rings she wore and thought about whether he gave them to her. If he gave her the same gifts he gave me. Maybe she knew too. Maybe she knew he took her to the same places we went. Did the same things, laughed at the same jokes. I hope she did.
But the conversation continued, and I kept searching for a flaw. Something to make him realize she wasn’t meant for him. Something I could point out and have my aha moment.
But she was perfect. And I had nothing that would make him pick me instead of her.
I wish you all the best, really Say you love her, baby Just not like you loved me And think of me fondly when your hands are on her I hope you're happy, but don't be happier
The music picked up again and they excused themselves to the dance floor. It was a sappy, corny love song. It fit them perfectly. I could see him whisper in her ear and rock her back forth to the beat. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes.
As they swayed, I was hoping he was thinking of me. I hoped he would drop her right then and there and grab my hand and lead me out of this mess. I hoped he would lock eyes with me and pretend none of this happened. I hoped they weren't as happy as they looked.
I hope you're happy Just not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier
As I watched them, I swear every memory we shared came fleeting into my mind. Every smile, every laugh, every fight, everything. The way he’d let me wear his sunglasses in the car and the time we danced in the rain and we’re sick for days after.
As I watched them I wondered wether they were truly happy together. If he was in love, if he loved her more than he loved me. If he ever thought of me when he was with her.
I wonder if he watched me as I left.
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Hey, you once mentioned something about Tom Riddle being a little suicidal. Your new post reminded of that and I wonder why you think that. It’s the complete opposite of what the books want you to think.
Alright, it’s time, let’s do this.
My standard disclaimer whenever we venture into the dark pit that is my thoughts on Tom Riddle: I’m going to say a lot of controversial stuff that fandom generally doesn’t agree with, I will say so much of this shit that I simply do not have time to explain it all, I expect 99% of you to disagree with me and the other 1% to be so horrifyingly offended that I dare to contemplate a world in which Tom isn’t always an overly competent psychopath that they leave me notes telling me to take this trash out of their character tags.
We good? Alright.
So, when I say a little suicidal, I mean that he is suicidal.
Not on the level that he’s going to kill himself tomorrow, or even has plans to kill himself, but in that he makes very strange decisions for someone who desperately wants to live.
And yes, I realize I speak blasphemy given that Tom Riddle’s entire m.o. is supposed to be his crippling fear of death.
Oh man, this one’s going to be so long.
So, my reasoning comes down to a few things:
The location of the horcruxes and the nature of their protections.
The events of Deathly Hallows and Tom’s final actions in the novel
The nature of horcruxes and what it means to not only be able to create one but what it does to you (caveat that I am going to headcanon hard here and speak utter blasphemy)
So, let’s start in order this time, because I think the first two are actually far easier for me to explain.
The Location and Nature of the Horcrux Protections and the Trouble with Backdoors in Security
So, first, the horcruxes are all conveniently located in Great Britain. Not even just in Great Britain, all in places that Albus Dumbledore and later Harry Potter can track down with relative ease, all fairly close to each other.
Now, part of this is undoubtedly attributable to Tom’s overly romantic nature. 
Yes, Tom Riddle is a giant romantic, though not necessarily in the traditional sense everyone thinks of. The film “Patton” and its treatment of Patton comes to mind. Tom Riddle is a man enamored by a sense of greatness, of being remembered in this world rather than fading into oblivion, by the significance of places and times in history not only of the world but of himself. He creates an entire, grand, persona for himself because to live an ordinary life for him is to be worthy of nothing.
So, given that, of course Tom places the horcruxes in sentimental locations that have personal meaning to him.
However, it also makes them perilously easy to find and collect.
By itself, this wouldn’t spark my notice.
The ability to destroy horcruxes are not easy to come by. There’s only one basilisk and it’s by chance/Lucius fucking up that Harry gains access to the necessary basilisk venom. Using Fyendfire is an incredibly dangerous thing to do and just as likely to blow up you and the next three towns over as it is to destroy a horcrux. And if there are other means of destroying a horcrux they’re just as hard to come by or just as dangerous.
It’s not quite throwing it into the fires of Mt. Doom from which it was forged but it’s pretty damn close.
So, really, without JKR’s convenient Deus Ex Machina giving both him and Dumbledore the means to actually destroy these things, Tom Riddle’s horcruxes are pretty damn safe no matter where we put them. As we see from the locket, which Regulus manages to collect but Kreacher cannot destroy even after several decades.
However, what does spark my notice, is that the horcruxes can be collected by someone other than Tom Riddle when it appears as if they were never intended to be. What do I mean by this?
From what we see, there’s no benefit to Tom if the original horcruxes are found by anyone. He doesn’t seek them out to restore his original body, they’re just anchor points that should be hidden at all costs. So, he’ll never need a Death Eater to go collect them for him should he be indisposed (indeed, to do so would require a tremendous amount of trust in people he has very little trust in). 
So, why hide them in such a way that others can access them? There are canon based options which would have prevented anyone else from reaching them. Given the existence of age lines, I imagine Tom Riddle could make some arbitrary barrier keyed only to himself. There are mokeskin pouches, such as the one Harry is given in the seventh book, which we know can only be accessed by whoever they’re keyed to. There’s the Fidelius Charm which, true requires a secret keeper which Tom would be very meh on, but options exist.
Tom Riddle could wipe the locations of his horcruxes off the face of the map. He chooses not to. Which leads me to believe that, at least on some unconscious level, he wants the horcruxes to be found.
Then we have the protections.
Specifically, I’m thinking of the locket here.
Yes, the protections are very formidable, but they’re also goddamn weird. 
Rather than make the horcrux simply inaccessible, kill all those intruding, instead the intruder has to go through a very “Saw” like puzzle in which they drown themselves in despair until they finally get the locket, at which point they likely suicide by zombie.
More, there’s no hint that there’s any other way to retrieve the locket. 
Backdoors in security are a very bad idea. What they do is weaken the security as a whole and, if you can take a short cut is, it means that someone who is clever enough and motivated enough can to. Dumbledore is both clever and motivated enough, and I imagine if there was a way to get the horcrux that involved not doing this ridiculous task he would have done it.
More, we’d be back to the land of Tom making sure only he can access the horcrux by requiring a password, keying it to his magical signature, or something so that no one else could get it.
Which means, that’s right, if Tom wants to get the locket he’s drinking the goddamn despair juice just like the rest of us.
What kind of a person would do any of this?
I’ve gone over this before, but I don’t think Tom Riddle’s crazy. Rather, in this case, I think he’s driven by an unbelievable amount of nihilist rage and is also quite depressed.
Tom goes to collect his horcrux, “Ah, it’s time to remember what a miserable life I’ve led and the sheer awfulness of my own existence. Good, I was starting to feel a little too happy. Let’s see if I get eaten by my undead, vengeful, victims today.” 
The Events of Deathly Hallows and Tom Riddle’s Death
I think Tom Riddle’s final death in the books was suicide.
Tom takes over the Wizarding World, finally, and it’s as miserable as ever.
He’s trapped in this sham, barely functional, probably very painful body. His Death Eaters are completely out of control and for all that he wanted society to burn it’s now burning and no one’s even learned anything from this. Children in Hogwarts are being routinely tortured and have now staged a rebellion in which he’s having to slaughter them (I have reasons to believe that this is not what Tom Riddle wanted, at all, but that’s best saved for another post), and then he learns his horcruxes have all been destroyed without him even noticing.
There’s so little left of him, he has accomplished nothing, and there’s Harry Potter back from the dead yet again, gloating at him that love conquers all and Tom Riddle will never understand.
And Harry’s right, Tom Riddle will never understand, the world is meaningless and flat to him now and he finally understand that there’s no point to it. I think Tom Riddle decides he’s done. He’s just done.
He enters in a duel with Harry Potter knowing the weird nature of their wands. Now, it can be assumed he used the Elder Wand, but we know they get locked in Priori Incatatum , and that makes no damn sense with the Elder Wand (well, wandlore in general is silly, but I’m working with what JKR gave me here). So I choose to take JKR at her somewhat established canon and say that, no matter what Harry thought, Voldemort was using his original wand.
He throws out the killing curse, despite having now witnessed Harry resurrecting twice to this thing, and within two seconds it rebounds and kills him.
Voldemort’s death is a lot like this scene from the recent, terrible, 2020 live action Mulan (10/10 do not recommend).  Now, we’re supposed to think that this scene is the witch saving Mulan’s life and thus showing her hope for the next generation. In actuality, the witch literally flies into an arrow she could have easily deflected from Mulan’s path. It’s a suicide that Mulan is too stupid to notice.
Tom chooses suicide in the most ridiculous, flamboyant, and easily written off manner one can and no one even notices. Instead Harry crows that he has personally defeated Voldemort, with the power of love no less, HUZZAH!
And the castle parties.
The Nature of Horcruxes
I almost don’t want to include this because it’s so... well, I’m really drifting far from canon and fandom now.
However, with horcruxes, there’s always an overriding question of why Tom is able to make so many when we don’t see anyone else with these things around (especially as it’s clear that murder doesn’t simply happen for those that now have horcruxes).
Usually, you have fic authors just sort of shrug and go, “Well, he’s that evil, I guess.” Sometimes you have them go, “No one else is crazy enough to keep going, and that’s why Voldemort’s cuckoo bananas.” 
One very good explanation I’ve seen is that it’s because most people, when they murder, feel remorse immediately. The soul split happens, but they’re haunted by the murder for the rest of their life, and thus the horcrux isn’t made. Voldemort, feeling nothing when he kills anyone, is thus able to make them even for when he’s only indirectly associated with the death in question.
However, to me that never really jived philosophically.
Mostly, I simply cannot imagine that tearing apart your very soul is an act of indifference. Here’s how I see it: to do something like that to yourself, you must care, you must care beyond all imagine and human endurance. Your soul literally cannot abide it and saws itself in half, purging what you cannot stand about yourself the most. 
The remorse part is, yes, remorse for the act and the victim but more to the point it is the ability to forgive and reaccept the worst part of yourself. That part of yourself that you purged and destroyed, which is nearly impossible to do and might very well destroy the fabric of who you are). 
In other words, while creating a horcrux is an abominable act of hatred, it is also one of profound self-hatred.
Tom Riddle loathes himself so much that he is able to do this over and over and over again. 
As Tom Riddle goes on he makes himself into less and less and less of himself until he probably doesn’t even know who he is anymore. He just knows, whatever is left of him, he loathes that too. 
And then, of course, he gives up, runs into the nearest flying arrow, and dies.
TL;DR: Tom Riddle’s is a miserable existence that ended in a miserable if unintentionally hilarious manner
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fleursdemeduse · 3 years ago
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Remembrance AU: Fighting For the Right Side
Warnings: Nightmare [Depiction of child death] ; Mention of death ; Allusion to mass murder and bombs
Words: 3.3k
You were quick to settle into your position in Pogtopia. Every day was primarily spent with Techno, but it was relaxing. You farmed, took trips to the bastion you two had met at, he protected you in fortresses, you two even went mining together. He was a comfortable constant in your world. Even when the voices got to be too much, you were with him. But that might have been what caused it all in the first place.
Settling into the small alcove Tommy said you could use, you decided that you could take this brief moment of quiet to read. You felt safe in the ravine, so much so that you had shed your armor back in Techno’s hidden stronghold.
Once sat in front of the fire, you tossed another small log in the flames. You'd have to go find more wood tomorrow but this was enough; The fire burning was bright enough you didn't need to light a torch and waste extra materials they might need, and the air warm enough you only needed a small throw blanket for added comfort to cuddle during the parts of your book the suspense physically got to you.
And so you got comfortable. You relaxed against the wall and you opened your book. Page 47.
Suddenly, sounds bombarded the child - a mad rustling, and then, twit twit, echoing over and over. They were familiar sounds, not particularly frightening, but unplaceable. A heartbeat was louder than anything else and the small nine year old could only wish that the sound were quieter. That everything was quieter.
The maze was an overgrown thing. Something so large that anyone who encountered it knew they could never escape. The shadows kept moving though; rushing faster than legs could ever hope to outrun. Faster and faster they crawled like vines all around. And soon the child was engulfed. Darkness spread to every limb, smothering wails that spilled from parted lips. There were no cries for help or alerts to any who would listen. Soon, nothing remained.
The crash had startled you awake. Your nightmare releasing it’s hold from you at the sudden sound. You relaxed quickly, however, seeing Wilbur in a heap next to the stairs. He must have fallen again. You pressed your lips together, remembering Techno’s words. “We used to have railin’s but Wilbur, he just really enjoyed fallin’ to his death.”
The brunet slowly got up and pat himself off before looking up at you and smiling. A smile like that could have made sunflowers turn to revel in its glow.
“Oh, hey. Sorry for waking you.” His voice was soft, probably to not wake anyone else if they hadn’t already been awoken already.
"Don't worry about it. It wasn’t a very good dream.” He nodded at you in understanding. “What were you doing out? On a secret mission?”
The teasing smile on your lips grew bigger when his smile soured and he scoffed, grumbling to himself about how every mission was technically a secret one.
Yours fell away when he started walking off, his softness darkened with the thought of what happened during his outing. You hesitated. You didn’t want to wake Techno. You two were only just growing closer and you didn’t know how the hybrid reacted to missing out on the little sleep he was actually getting. But you didn’t want to be with your thoughts. Despite not being even remotely close to the man now leaving you behind, you reached out for him. “Hey Wilbur?” He turned to look at you. "Can you stay? Just for tonight, please. I don't want to be alone after that."
You watched his brown eyes brighten and a boyish grin overtake his lips. It reminded you of Tommy’s. You briefly wondered if his mood always swung this dramatically. “I'll stay for as long as you need." He made his way to sit with you and you added another log to the fire, sitting up so the rock digging into your spine shifted away. Wilbur sat across from you, his presence immediately making you relax.
"So, Mr. Leader," You taunted once more, "What was the secret mission?"
In the coming days, you and Wilbur spent more time together. He’d tell you the most random facts about himself whilst you two worked, but you couldn’t bring yourself to pay it any mind.
-
"Hey [y/n], guess what?"
"Hm?"
"I was born on September 14th. That makes me a Virgo."
-
"Did you know I can play guitar?"
"I think everyone knows that about you, Wilbur. Why do you ask?"
"I just thought you might wanna hear me play you something sometime..."
-
"You know, I was once married to this wonderful salmon named Sally. You remind me of her sometimes."
-
���With you on our side, [y/n], I know that we’re going to win L’manburg back. And I promise you’ll have a spot in my cabinet.”
It was decided. Techno and yourself would attend the festival while Wilbur and Tommy hung back and watched from a safe distance. You were nervous. A bad feeling grew like a stone in your stomach as they all prepared.
"Hey [y/n], come here a moment, will you?" Sighing as you stood from the chest you were going through, you felt your back pop in a few different places and you hissed before walking to where Wilbur stood. It was silent in the ravine, everyone just as anxious about the festival as you.
"Yeah?" You asked, resting a hand on his arm as you peeked around him at the paper on the table. It was a map of Manburg with “x”s scattered across it.
"Are you prepared?" He glanced down at you, watching the crease in your eyebrows deepen as you examined the plans.
"Mhm." You hummed, finally looking up at him. His eyes were so warm when they looked at you, just like Techno’s. Even if he didn’t have a smile, they were always filled with that same warmth that made you feel important. The two were more like brothers than either cared to admit. "Why?"
"Can I tell you something and you keep it a secret from Tommy and Techno?" Everything around you felt like it had stilled. Everything waiting for the other shoe to drop. The stone suddenly felt heavier.
"What is it?” He continued looking at you and you found it almost hard to breathe. "Wilbur?"
His hand reached to cup your cheek gently. They weren’t calloused like Technoblade’s. They were the hands of a poet, of a musician, of someone whose hand reached for the quill not the sword. They smelled of gunpowder. Your heart felt like it was in your throat when you realized what all of those “x”s were.
“You would risk letting all those people die just so you could have L’manburg back? Why?”
His voice came out hoarse when he finally brought himself to speak. "Because if I can’t have it, no one can, [y/n]. I'm so sorry."
Your lips trembled. You thought of all of the innocent people who would never see it coming. You thought of Tommy and Techno, getting ready in another part of the ravine who wouldn’t know until it was too late. You thought of the man before you who probably felt like he was doomed to keep repeating this action again and again. When had blowing something up ever worked in his past lifetimes? He had to know that this was crazy, right?
Wilbur continued to stare at your frightened face for a moment. He looked so serious. His dark eyebrows drawn together and lips turned just the slightest bit downward. But his eyes? The warmth that filled them seemed to be slowly draining and being replaced with dark melancholy. You hated that look on him and drew your hand up to hold the one cradling your face. “You don’t have to do this, y’know. There is always another way.”
Wilbur stepped forward, pulling you into an embrace that smelled of cedar and leather. His hand left your cheek to instead hold your head to his chest. You didn’t like this hug. This hug felt like he knew things were going to go horribly wrong and he didn’t want you to see the aftermath of it. “If there were one, we would have found it by now.”
Your hands gripped the soft material of his trench coat and you pressed your face into his sweater. You didn’t want this. You were happy to help where you could, but you didn’t want to be a part of the destruction of a nation. You just wanted to help your friends overthrow a tyrant. “I wish I were as brave as you, Wil.”
The soft huff of a chuckle reverberated through his chest as he squeezed you tighter. “Did you know that that’s the first time you’ve called me something other than my name?” His voice was uplifted at the end. He almost sounded happy by the thought. It was squashed when he sighed, pressing his face into your hair. “I wouldn’t call it bravery, though. Still, I promise that we’ll all end up on the other side of this together.”
You tilted your head up a bit to look at him. “Where else would we be?”
He didn’t answer you, just held you tighter.
If there was one thing Wilbur couldn’t describe himself as, it was good.
In previous lives, he had been a cruel, sadistic god. He forced hundreds of people to compete for his entertainment. They were rats, moles, ants, sometimes even just humans while he played the part of omnipotent creator. He had been a king sometimes, or a hero. And time and time again, he was just an older brother. But no matter what, he couldn’t seem to save the people who loved him the most. He couldn’t protect the ones who looked up to him; be it because he found sick joy in their deaths, or because he wasn’t strong enough.
He never felt strong enough.
When Technoblade had told him of the strange person whom he had met in the nether, he almost brushed it off. There was no way he had met someone whom he hadn’t shared at least one lifetime with. There was no such thing as new players who weren’t just NPCs.
However, when you stepped into the ravine, inventory absolutely filled with different items that you just willingly handed over to the pink haired hybrid with a smile, he was utterly floored. The curve of your lips, the tone of your voice, even the look in your eyes were all new to him. He had never once met you.
He approached the two of you with hurried steps, wondering what kind of trick you were playing, only to freeze when you turned your gaze to him. He could hear his own blood rushing through his ears and, for a moment, he wondered if you could hear it too. The expression you wore unnerved him. It was as if you had seen every lifetime, every possibility. Yet you still had the nerve to smile shyly at him. When you waved at him in silent greeting, he knew Technoblade had been completely correct in his assumption. Your lives were missing from your wrist.
You were an investment.
But no one made him feel as powerless as you did.
You were able to try things over and over and over again. You weren’t held back by memories of mistakes or fears. The tiny flits of trauma they all seemed to feel were just… absent in your being. You were unapologetic about running errands in Manburg and doing reconnaissance whilst you were out, seemingly unafraid during the recounts you had given him of meeting Schlatt and Tubbo for the first time.
And this seemed to hold true in your interactions with Tubbo. He didn’t treat you with the same feral energy he shared with Tommy or the attitude he put forth for his leaders. When you weren’t spending almost every waking moment with Technoblade, the soft murmur of your soft voices being heard through the stone walls that led to the farm, you were interacting with one or both of the teenagers that helped fuel the rebellion. Tubbo told you about new ideas he had, or described to you his day, or even just explained to you things that even he himself knew he would have trouble understanding, despite Tubbo being the one to explain them. Wilbur noticed that you just did that. You listened patiently while someone talked, despite the knowing look in your eye that made him feel like you already knew exactly what they were about to say. And this seemed to carry over into your relationship with Tommy.
You paid rapt attention to the blond, reminding him that even if he was still technically a child, that doesn’t mean he didn’t deserve to be listened to. The oddest part he found, though? Tommy actually returned the favor in kind. It wasn’t so much that you would go on long-winded tangents and he’d be forced to sit there and listen. It was that when you asked or told the sixteen year old to do something, he did it without too much of a fight. That’s not to say he wouldn’t talk back to you, he did almost every time, but it was the point that he would still do what you said without much hesitation. And every single time, Wilbur felt the sharpest stab of envy.
He had questioned Tommy after the first couple instances of it happening before him. He had cornered the very person who had been his younger brother in many previous lives against the cold stone wall on one of the walk ways while you and Techno were out gathering things from the nether and demanded to know why. However, the young soldier just shrugged in response. “They just usually have very fun ideas.” He had stared long and hard at the blonde, the other fiddling with the hem of his dirty shirt. He made a mental note to ask if you’d be willing to do laundry for them when you next went to Manburg. “That and…”
“And?” Wilbur had immediately prompted, knowing the time he had to question the younger was running short.
“They just have that tone of voice. And something makes me feel like I should listen when they tell me to do something.” Wilbur rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to berate him. “Sometimes it feels like they know way more than they should. Like they already know what’s going to happen.”
The brunet’s words died on his tongue.
They all felt like that.
But if you knew so much, why did you never talk about any of your past lives like the rest of them did? If you knew what was going to happen, why were you so patient and let them make mistake after mistake?
The thought sat bitterly at the forefront of his mind as he pat himself off, having fallen off the side of the walkway yet again. He almost regretted removing the child-proofing, but he was an adult, and he didn’t need them, and he certainly wasn’t going to recant his insistence that they didn’t need them. He turned when he heard shifting and saw you slumped against the side of the ravine.
In the dim lighting, you looked different. You were cuddled under a thin blanket, eyebrows furrowed and mouth pressed into a pout that reminded him of a child. He must have awoken you. You looked rather cute like this, though.
He smiled at you despite himself. He was still a little hesitant about being around you. He didn’t need help in his daily activities like Technoblade, he didn’t need a guiding hand like Tommy, and he felt plenty listened to daily, unlike Tubbo.
But somehow, he didn’t feel as loved as you were.
“Oh hey, sorry for waking you.” The words had slipped from his mouth before he had had a chance to stop them. Now he’d be forced to converse with you. He watched your eyes look away from him, even in the dim light.
"It wasn’t a very good dream.” You didn’t have good dreams? What was there to have a nightmare of? He tucked that piece of information away for later, your eyes were back on him. “What were you doing out? On a secret mission?”
His mood immediately dropped, especially when he saw the mocking grin that planted itself on your face. It was as if this were a game to you. “Every mission we pursue is a secret one, you of all people should know that.”
The grin just grew and he felt his chest tighten. How could you act so lax when you seemed to know exactly what happened when he was out there? He turned to walk back to his desk to write about the events that had transpired and quell his anger. He wasn’t truly upset with you, he knew that, and he didn’t want to take that out on the one person that seemed to be holding together his fellow usurpers, but you almost irritated him. His soft steps reverberated through their base.
“Hey Wilbur?”
His steps faltered. Despite your previous mood, you suddenly sounded so small. Afraid. He looked at you from over his shoulder and was surprised to see your extended hand.
“Can you stay for tonight? I don’t want to be alone after that.”
A new feeling sparked in him.
You wanted him? The one who had been so helpful for everyone else, to the cause, even to him on occasion, needed his help? How bad had your dream been? You looked so distraught, so powerless. He didn’t feel so weak when you looked at him like that.
“I’ll stay for as long as you need.” Your eyes held a warmth that could rival the fire in front of them. You moved to feed it and he sat across from you. You two weren’t close in either sense of emotionally or physically.
When had that changed?
He felt compelled to check up on you more after that night, use you as the investment that he believed you to be. No one in Manburg knew of your status, and he was planning on using it to their advantage.
Or, he had been.
But you made him feel safe about sharing things about himself. You were easy to talk to, easy to work around, easy to listen to. You would have been so easy to use.
Maybe that’s why he told you of the plan he and Tubbo had come up with.
You had found your way into much more than his good graces, just like the rest of them, and he didn’t want you to get caught in the crossfire. You were so susceptible to influence, he feared you’d start to see him as a villain. He knew what people would say about him. He wanted you to know his thoughts and feelings before you could be tainted by their remarks.
He had shared memories with you before. They all had. Words seemed to fall unencumbered whenever you were around and they were all victim to it. But you hadn’t judged any of them on the actions they had taken in their previous lives. You didn’t even judge them on the actions they had taken in this one. Despite this, he was still scared you’d be turned against him if he wasn’t the one to tell you.
“I think everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves.”
It was his turn to prove that they were fighting for the right side.
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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago
Text
The Pact - Date #3
Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS
Word Count: 7.7k
Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?
Warnings: none, BUT THE FLUFF IS COMING DOWN FULL FORCE YA’LL
a/n: don’t forget, I taking your guys’ comments/reactions into account for this series, so please let me know what your thoughts are! of course, at the end we’ll really take a deeper look at all of the dates and what stood out the most, but I would love to hear from you about this one!! love you all, enjoy!
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Date #3
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The more time has passed, the more you fully come to realize that if you have been that affected by two dates, you are in no way prepared for the five that remain.
Nope. Not one bit.
It was Thursday when Jungkook finally texted to check that you were free around eleven. Your heart leapt, finally. A date that you wouldn’t have to spend all day moping around waiting for.
So obviously, you were ready by 9. You know, just in case.
You’d been instructed to wear casual clothes, something that you rejoiced in. Donning your sweater with the word Harvard in thick blue letters spanning the front and a pair of skinny jeans, you felt right at home.
The boys never missed a chance to tease you about your Harvard sweatshirt, and for some reason they never believed your lie that you actually went there. Of course, that might be due to the fact that they were very much aware of your current schooling situation and it was most definitely not Harvard.
But hey...attending one of the top universities in South Korea wasn’t bad, either.
Currently you were perched on the end of your bed, partly due to the fact that if you went anywhere else you would most certainly just end up staring out the window at every car that passed by. Not wanting to look like a nosy neighbor, you’d confined yourself to your room to wait out the morning.
In the hours that pass, your thoughts are completely occupied by the two boys you shared the last couple of Saturdays with.
It would be a lie to say that you don’t replay the image of Taehyung standing in your doorway every night as you tried to sleep, his hair a fluffy mess and that cable knit sweater proving to be your doom.
Your thoughts were usually interrupted as you took your bracelet off and stared at it, imagining Hobi delicately placing each individual bead it it’s place. It’s when your hand burns with the memory of his gentle kiss on your palm that you finally set the bracelet down and let out a frustrated sigh.
Yeah...Jimin was wrong when he invited you to just think of these as nice, friendly dates.
He probably knew it, too.
“Ok,” you breathe out, closing your eyes and focusing on the rise and fall of your chest. “Just...enjoy it.”
Enjoy it you shall.
That’s the thing that carries you through the waiting, still just breathing in and out and mentally preparing yourself for all that awaits you today.
You get so carried away in your attempts to calm down that the knock on your front door comes before you realize how much time has passed. Taking one more steadying breath, you get up from your bed and amble down the hallway to the door.
Pausing for a moment, you realize that you truly have no idea who might be on the other side of that door. The thought makes you smile. You’ve always loved a good mystery.
Cracking open the door, you can’t help but smile as the figure before you has their back turned to you. At the sound of your quiet giggle, they turn around, eyes a little wide.
A nervous smile in place, Namjoon leans forward ever so slightly. Almost as though he’s being pulled in by your personal gravity. “Morning,” he says almost as an afterthought, his voice low.
“Good morning,” you respond, throwing the door open the rest of the way. “So you’re lucky number three?”
“Well, you know what they say.”
You busy yourself with grabbing your bag and double checking that you have everything. “What do they say?”
Namjoon shrugs, his nervous smile growing until it’s bordering on giddiness. “Third time’s a charm.”
Indeed.
Once you’ve ascertained that you have everything you’ll need (you made sure to replenish your mint stash earlier this week), you’re stepping out into the slightly brisk air and locking the door behind you.
The sound of keys jingling near your ear has you turning to face Namjoon, who wears an oversized, dark plaid shirt that’s open to reveal his black t-shirt beneath it. The picture of casual coolness, paired with his dark wash jeans and sneakers, the look is complete with the way his dimples poke out as he holds up the keys to your eye level.
“Guess who’s driving?” He teases in a sing-song voice, making you laugh as you swipe the keys from him. As the two of you descend the stairs toward the car, you tilt your head to the side.
“How did you get here?” Then, turning to him with wide eyes, “You didn’t drive yourself, right?”
He’s quick to shake his head, pointing out a car that’s turning around at the end of your street and slowly making its way back toward you two. “The guys dropped me off.”
The thought of Namjoon in a car with some of the boys and the rest trailing after them in a separate vehicle is endearing, while also hilarious. “All of them?”
“Yep,” he confirms. “Every last one of them.”
As the car draws nearer, you see the windows roll down and someone with familiar black, fluffy hair sticks their head out. Like a dog pile, another head hovers beside them.
Taehyung and Jimin.
Oh, and there’s Jungkook somehow managing to wiggle in between them.
“We apologize in advance, jagiya,” Jimin croons loudly with a teasing smirk. “At least try to enjoy yourself.”
You snort, clicking the button to unlock the car and laughing even harder when Hobi jumps at the sound of the horn. He sits in the passenger seat beside Jin, who drives. The two merely wave before mumbling something to each other that makes them laugh.
“Where’s Yoongi?” You ask, frowning as you do a head count and not finding him anywhere. In response, a pale hand coming from what must be the very back row of the car worms its way forward to the open window. You swear you can almost hear his disgruntled greeting, but it’s drowned out as Taehyung excitedly speaks up.
“Good luck trying to beat me, hyung,” he teases, shooting Namjoon a sweet smile that’s at odds with his teasing comment.
Namjoon just shrugs, utterly unphased as he follows you around the car and opens the drivers side with smooth precision. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”
This encourages a round of ooh-ing that only serves to make you laugh even as you tuck away the momentary competitive side of Namjoon. Calm, calculated, and - if you’re reading that steely look in his eyes correctly - utterly in the zone.
Oh, you’re definitely enjoying this way more than you should.
“Drive safe!” The boys shout out amidst jeering comments directed toward Namjoon and his lack of driving abilities. With a final wave, they’re speeding off down the street. Once they’ve disappeared from sight, you notice the way Namjoon’s shoulders relax. He hurries over to the passenger side, hopping in and buckling up before fiddling with his phone.
“So...where to?” You ask, buckled up and ready to go. You tap the steering wheel excitedly, already feeling hyped up from the short interaction with everyone.
You miss seeing them all together. There’s a reason why you’re friends with the entire group.
“I put the address into the car,” Namjoon explains. “It should give you directions as we go.”
Arching a brow at him, you don’t shift into drive just yet. “So I’m driving us there, but I don’t get to know what the end location is?”
Smiling softly, Namjoon nods. “Exactly. You’re so smart, have I ever told you that?”
Scowling, you press the green button that appears on the screen and a warm female voice instructs you to drive to the stop sign and turn left.
You hum, pondering the slightly sarcastic question. “I’m not sure. But that’s definitely a sign that you should tell me more often.”
“I’ll make note of that.”
With a glance at the screen, you see the estimated driving time. “We’re leaving Seoul?”
From your peripheral, you notice Namjoon’s worried expression. “Is that alright? We can find something to do around here, it’s just-”
“No,” you rush to reassure him. “I was just surprised, that’s all.” It won’t be a particularly long drive, just over an hour, but you certainly weren’t expecting that.
Something tells you that there are plenty more surprises waiting for you today.
It doesn’t take long before the two of you slip into an easy conversation, Namjoon relating his latest experiences in his efforts to add something eye-catching to his studio.
“Like what?” You ask. “I love your studio the way it is.”
Namjoon looks over at you, smiling softly. “Really? I don’t know...I just feel like something’s missing.”
“Well, we’ll keep an eye out for something today,” you promise, relaxing now that you’re on the freeway and in the flow of traffic. “Like, do you want something to hang up? Or something to go on your desk?”
He shrugs, taking a moment to roll his window down and close his eyes as it runs through his hair. “I already have a bunch of stuff on the wall, and if I put anything on my desk-”
“Right, you’ll spill on it.”
“Exactly.” You keep your eyes on the road, entirely missing the fond look he gives you.
“So basically, you don’t need anything.”
He huffs a sigh, rolling the window back up and sinking down into the seat. “No, I do, I just don’t know what.”
“Mmm.”
“Hey,” Namjoon cuts, giving you a dramatic glare. “Don’t mock me.”
Feigning innocence, you peek over at him. “I’m not!”
“Yah, just drive.”
“I am!”
Despite the bickering, you can’t fight the smile edging its way onto your features. A glance over at Namjoon shows that he’s having the same issue, his face turned away from you but failing to hide the silly grin he’s attempting to hide as his fingers curl at his lips. It’s a habit he’s had for as long as you’ve known him, one that often makes its way into many photos.
“Prepare to take exit 14,” the voice instructs, and you make your way over to the far lane, eyeing the looming sign that will announce what exit it’s for. Once the sign comes into view, you give Namjoon a puzzled look.
“We’re going to Anyang?”
It’s not that you have anything against the city, it’s just that...well, what is there in Anyang that isn’t in Seoul?
“See? Super intelligent.” It’s the only response you get from Namjoon, but it has you rolling your eyes in an effort to counter the butterflies that erupt in your stomach at the way he’s looking at you.
In a couple of minutes you’re turning onto a relatively quiet street, only a few random people mulling about, enjoying their weekend. Namjoon points out an entrance to a parking lot that you would have completely missed due to its hidden nature. Once you’re parked and dwarfed between the buildings surrounding the little lot, you jump out of the car and make a show of stretching your legs.
Namjoon mimics you, a loud yet satisfying yawn coming from him. “Hey, are you hungry now or are you good to wait a little while?”
You pause, internally wondering. “I think I’m good for a while.”
“Great.” Rubbing his hands together, he comes to stand beside you. “Let’s go, then.”
You fall into step beside him. “Woah, you still haven’t told me where- oh.”
The two of you have rounded a corner and now stand in front of a nondescript building. Its sage green paint is chipping a bit, giving it a rustic feel that is only accentuated by the gold lettering above the door.
Wanderers & Travelers
However, it’s not the homey feel or the tasteful name that has you stopping in your tracks. It’s what you see inside, through the large windows.
Without a single word, you step forward as though in a daze. The little bell above the door chimes as you walk in, announcing your arrival. And, as though the entire thing couldn’t get better, the scent hits you.
The smell of old and new books, some leather bound and some hard backed, dives into your senses and leaves you whirling.
The walls in here are painted some shade of sky blue, complementing the deep wood shelves. It’s quiet in here, the only sound being that of shuffling feet.
If you blink, you’re afraid it might all vanish.
“Oh! You’re here!”
Turning to your left, you see a woman with flecks of white in her hair, smiling warmly at you and Namjoon. If you’re being completely, honest, you’d nearly forgotten that Namjoon was there.
The woman descends the final few steps of the creaky staircase, keeping a friendly distance as she nods at the two of you. “You were right,” she remarks to Namjoon. Then, to you with a teasing smirk, “You look like you’ve never seen a bookstore before.”
You sputter for the right words. “I- yeah, but this-”
“Is no ordinary bookstore,” Namjoon finishes for you, a hand at your elbow. You can’t help but lean into his touch, momentarily forgetting the rows and rows of shelves just a few steps away as Namjoon involuntarily steps a little closer.
“Ah, right. Well, first thing’s first: I’m Choi Min-jee. And this is my bookstore,” she gestures to the endless rows of bookshelves, and you wonder for a moment how all of these can fit in the building. It looks so much smaller from the outside.
Min-jee motions for you to follow her, and she leads the two of you to the nearest bookshelf. “These books range in languages and age, you never know what you might find. This shop has been in my family for five generations now - we’ve collected our fair share of books and other antique items.” With a little wink, she steps back. “Take your time, and let me know if you have any questions. Oh, and the upstairs is open now.”
Namjoon perks up at this, looking over from where he’d pulled a book off the shelf. “Really? We’ll have to look up there!”
“Please do! I’m off to practice piano.” With that, she whisks away, leaving you to your own devices.
You stare after her in awe, mouth slightly ajar. It makes Namjoon chuckle quietly, he must know the feeling.
“I wanna be her when I grow up,” you whisper, earning a louder chuckle from the man.
“Same.” Namjoon heads deeper into the shelves, and you follow after him. He glances back at you over his shoulder. “This is my favorite place.”
“I take it you’re a regular?” You ask, eyes catching on a bright blue book with frayed binding. Pausing, you ease it from its spot. “Hm… ‘The Cottage by the Sea’.” You run my hand over the shiny inlay, a seashell glinting up at you. “Why do I feel like I just entered the world of ‘Little Women’?”
Namjoon snorts, wandering back over to you and gazing down at the book. He grabs the one that occupied the spot next to it on the shelf, the deep red absorbing in all the surrounding light. “You’re definitely Jo.”
“Really?” You ask, gently flipping through the first few pages and trying to find a publish date. “I always thought that I was more of an Amy.”
Namjoon looks appalled, tearing his eyes away from his book. “What? No. In what world are you Amy?”
“Hey! Don’t act like she’s a bad person,” You whine, bringing the book close to your chest. “She was just...trying to survive.”
Huffing loudly and obnoxiously, Namjoon heads over to the other aisle, peeking at you through the gaps in the shelf. “She got everything she ever wanted, without hardly having to ask for it. Are you telling me that you have everything you ever wanted?”
There’s a skylight above you, allowing the lazy afternoon sun to filter in and play with the lighter tones in Namjoon’s hair. He looks at you with his ferociously focused gaze, something that you had never squirmed under before but now find your cheeks burning as he doesn’t look away.
You sigh contentedly. “More or less. Look at me, I’m surrounded by books.”
Namjoon gets closer to the shelves, leaning down to be eye-level with you through the shelves. “So what’s missing?”
“Hmm?” You hum, getting a little lost as music starts up somewhere. You realize with a start that this must be what Min-jee meant by practicing piano, as the soft sound comes from somewhere hidden.
There’s a little smile on Namjoon’s face, just enough for a dimple to appear. “You said more or less. What are you missing still?”
Edging a little closer and nearly closing your eyes at the smell of leather, you’re tempted to reach through the shelf and poke at the little indent in his cheek. “Just your glasses, I think. I love it when you wear your glasses.”
The statement takes him by surprise, Namjoon’s dragon-like gaze dropping and a flush taking over his features before he steps back. “Hmph.” With that, he continues down the aisle, the red book still in his hands and the blue in yours. “I still think you would be Jo, though.”
“Why?”
The two of you match footsteps, languidly walking along the seemingly endless rows. You catch glimpses of him through the books, a soft dimpled smile on his face as he looks down at his feet. It’s enough to make your coy smile grow, and you clutch the book tighter to your chest.
Finally, Namjoon comes to a stop as another book catches his eye. You take the opportunity to round the corner and enter the aisle he stands in, feet carrying you closer to him. Just as you’re about to reach his side, he speaks.
“Jo is...well, for one, she’s a dreamer. And we both know you’ve got a lot of dreams in that head of yours.” He taps your forehead for emphasis, side-smile growing when you scowl. “But she’s a realistic dreamer. You’ve given up a lot for your dreams, but I believe that you’d leave it all behind if someone you loved was in need of you.”
You blink, unprepared for the genuine compliment.
“And,” Namjoon says breathily, sliding the book back into its place and turning on his heel to walk away. “You two share a tendency to be oblivious to others feelings for you.”
He keeps walking, leaving you to become a sputtering mess before launching yourself after him. “I- we what?!” You all but screech, wincing as you sound twice as loud in the empty shop. “I am not oblivious-”
With a triumphant smirk, Namjoon heads down a little slope that leads toward a sitting area. “Be honest with yourself. You wouldn’t have had any idea about the pact or anything if Jungkook hadn’t spilled it.”
“But that’s not my fault!” You defend, glaring defiantly at his back. “You guys had that under lock and key!”
Diving into another row, Namjoon looks contemplative. “Ok, that may be true. But tell me the truth: did you ever once suspect that...I don’t know, there might be something more going on? Even just once?”
You stand out in the main walkway still, frozen by his question. “Er…” Pausing to think, you squint down at the book still in your hands.
Of course there were moments that had your heart pumping a little faster and a blush rising to your cheeks. Movie nights always meant some form of cuddling, but you quickly just assumed that it was all part of the friendship. Good morning texts that made you sink back into your pillows with a lazy smile, or the little facts that one of the boys would remember about you always made you stop and wonder.
But you never actually entertained the idea. It all seemed too…
“Unrealistic,” you mumble aloud. When Namjoon looks at you quizzically, you walk down a few rows until something catches your eye. You delight in the fact that now he’s following you. “I guess I had little moments where I wondered, but it just seemed like wishful thinking.”
Stopping near the end of the row and looking up at the top shelf, you wiggle on your tip-toes trying to grab a book. Your fingers barely graze the spine of the book before a warm presence overshadows you and Namjoon’s fingers ghost over your own before tugging the brown book from its spot. Still pressed against your back, his light breathing makes the hair on the back of your neck tingle as he lowers the book into your waiting hands.
“Moments like this?” He whispers, hands coming to rest just above your hips.
Suddenly, you recall a moment from months before, when you’d been in a similar situation. The boys had invited you over for some breakfast on one of their rare morning’s off. You’d wanted some cereal, only to find the bowls on the very top shelf. Namjoon had come to your rescue, pulling the exact same move before awkwardly pausing and looking as though he’d wanted to say something. He hadn’t, and instead rushed out of the kitchen before you could even utter a ‘thank you’.
Turning around in his grasp, you can see that he wears a similar expression as before. This time, however, he looks determined to say whatever comes to mind.
With a quiet voice you whisper, “Who in their right mind puts bowls on the top shelf?”
Namjoon’s grip on your hips tightens as he throws his head back and laughs, the kind of laugh that sinks right into your bones. All you can do is watch him, feeling like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen him. Perhaps it’s the first time you’ve ever allowed yourself to look freely.
“Ah, so you did notice,” he whispers back. “You acted like nothing happened, so I figured I was in the clear.”
With a roll of your eyes, you’re stepping out of his grasp and taking a look down at the new book in your hand. “With you, Mr. Kim, we’re never in the clear.”
He lets out a low hiss, but lets you walk away. Not like you realize he’s not following you anymore, you’re idly wandering around while thumbing through the mystery novel. It looks like it might be an original copy from one of your favorite authors. One that passed away in the 1950’s, but still stands out among the countless authors that have come after them.
You’ve made it down to the small sitting area, where a large fireplace is crackling.
“Huh,” you smile. As if this place couldn’t get any better. Plopping down on the couch, you let out a sigh at how the cushions sink and welcome you into their warm embrace. Setting the blue book off to the side, you open up the brown one and begin to read.
You’ve nearly completed the first chapter - knees tucked to your chest as you lean against the arm of the couch - when you hear footsteps approaching.
Expecting it to be Namjoon, you glance over your shoulder with a smile. It’s Min-jee, who returns the smile with a knowing look. You listen closely and realize that her piano practice must be over. Classical music plays over the speakers in the shop instead.
“Namjoon’s gone upstairs,” she explains, coming to adjust something in the fireplace. “He said something about finding an item for his studio.”
You close the book softly, stretching before sitting up straight. “What’s upstairs? More books?”
“No, we’ve expanded our antique selection, there’s an assortment of desks and chairs up there, among other things.”
Making an ‘o’ with your mouth, you get up. “This place is amazing, by the way.” You hold up the brown book with an excited expression. “I found this - I think it’s an original! How much is it?”
Min-jee makes her way over to you, smiling softly as she recognizes the book. “You’re a fan of this author too, huh? My grandad used to read these to me back before I had to start running the shop.” She offers you a fond look. “Oh, and Namjoon told me to put whatever you like on his tab. So don’t worry about it. Take the book.”
She must notice your shock, because she places a comforting hand on your shoulder and squeezes it gently. “He also told me that you might be hesitant to get anything because of that. But honestly, get it. And ‘The Cottage by the Sea’. That’s one of my favorites, actually.” Min-jee nods at the blue book with its golden seashell.
“Ah, he knows me too well,” you sigh. “This might be silly to ask, but...do you think it’s alright? You know, to just get them?”
Min-jee, to your eternal gratitude, doesn’t laugh at your question. Instead, she sees right through you, to the worry in your heart.  The last thing you want is to take advantage of any of the boys. “It would make him happy,” she responds, watching your reaction carefully. You immediately let out a sigh of relief, nodding and picking up the books.
“Alright,” you concede. “I’ll get them, then.”
“Great! I’ll take them up front and hold them for you, if you’d like.”
“That’s perfect.”
While she whisks away your books, you follow after her until you reach the staircase. She nods encouragingly, and you head up.
Clearing the stairs, it doesn’t take long to locate Namjoon. He’s standing in front of a large wardrobe, inspecting every inch of it. The sight makes you smile, enjoying the way he’s chewing on the inside of the cheek.
“Don’t tell me that’s what you’re getting for the studio,” you drawl, making your way toward him. He looks back at you, a wide smile interrupting his cheek chewing.
“I mean...no, but look at it!” He exclaims. “It’s beautiful, isn't it? Honestly, if I moved some things around, I could probably make it fit.”
You reach the wardrobe, marveling at the expert craftsmanship. “It’s gorgeous. But what would you even put in it? It’s not like you take all of your coats to the studio. And you want your trophies to be visible, don’t you?”
This thing must weigh a ton, the wood is thick and the hinges smooth. “Hmm...no, but I can think of something else I could hide away in here.” The way Namjoon glances over at you with a sly grin makes you stumble back, red rushing to your cheeks as you suddenly become preoccupied with a very old typewriter.
“What would that be?” You venture, running your fingers over the keyboard. You’re waiting for his answer, which you’re sure will be a single word - you. However, just as he’s opening his mouth and looking like he’s garnering the courage to say it, the creaky staircase announces someone’s arrival.
At first you think nothing of it, but Min-jee’s voice is loud. Loud enough that you know she’s trying to be heard.
“I told you, we don’t sell anything BTS related in this store.” She says, and you and Namjoon share a puzzled look.
A couple of voices respond, but one in particular stands out as she raises her voice. “I swear, I saw Kim Namjoon walking around in here just a few minutes ago!”
Their footsteps are growing closer, and you suddenly realize that this is Min-jee’s way of warning you two.
Rushing over to Namjoon’s side, you look around frantically. “Is there another way out?” You whisper. Clearly the staircase is blocked at the moment. When he shakes his head, you’re about ready to suggest causing a distraction but he suddenly gasps.
Quickly and quietly, he’s swinging open the wardrobe and nudging you inside, quickly following. You raise your eyebrows, mouth opening to ask him just how this is going to help anything, but he allows the door to swing shut and presses a hand against your mouth.
Back pressed against the back of the wardrobe and Namjoon looming over you, the two of you hardly dare to breathe as you strain to listen to what’s going on outside.
“I’m pretty sure I would know if he was in my shop,” Min-jee is saying, sounding much closer now. “And right now the upstairs is off-limits, so please-”
“Look, I know I must sound crazy, but I’m absolutely positive that I saw him in here. I was just outside and he went up the stairs! And now you expect me to believe what you’re saying?”
You keep your eyes trained on the thin opening where light is streaming in, trying to see what’s going on. Namjoon, however, shuffles a little closer, hand slipping from your mouth and staring down at you. He braces his hands on either side of your head, needing to bend over a little bit due to the small space.
“For the last time,” Min-jee defends, “the upstairs portion of this shop is closed. As you can tell, nobody is up here besides us. If you wish to continue this conversation, I would simply ask that we do it downstairs.”
You bite your lip, looking up at Namjoon and about to whisper something about how Min-jee deserves a raise. The words die on your tongue, however, when you finally catch sight of him.
Namjoon is slouching a bit, and you realize that his hands are on either side of your head. His hair is slightly mussed, from what you’re unsure. However, that’s not what has your breath catching in your throat.
He’s looking down at you in a way that suddenly makes you aware of just how small the wardrobe is, and has you mentally cursing yourself for coming up here in the first place. Namjoon is looking at you, looking at you in a way that you immediately recognize.
Like it’s the first time he’s allowed himself to.
You watch the way his eyes follow the way your throat constricts as you swallow, the way they trace the slope of your nose and the dip above your lip.
The voices fade away as Namjoon’s fingers feather through your hair, light enough to make your heart melt. He does so slowly, eyes reading your own in order to see if he’s somehow crossed a line that he shouldn’t have.
You, however, are sick of all these dumb lines and boundaries that have been set. Somehow, Namjoon must see that, because he’s opening his mouth and whispering out what he’s been thinking this entire time.
“You,” he mumbles as he watches the strand of hair he tucks behind your ear. Almost as though to verify that this is real, that it’s actually happening. “I’d tuck you away in here, and nobody would find us.”
Breathing has become impossible at this point.
“No prying eyes, no invisible lines to make sure I don’t cross,” he’s tracing the line of your jaw now, and you don’t miss the slight tremor in his hand. “Would you like that as much as I would?”
His eyes land on yours, eyebrows coming together as he awaits your answer. You would smile if you could, but you find that you’ve turned to putty at his touch. Instead, you slowly nod before breathing out, “Yes.”
That’s when you realize that Namjoon is just as tired of rules as you are. Namjoon, the dedicated leader that always makes sure everything is in order. Namjoon, who constantly forgets things like his phone and wallet, but never forgets to say please and thank you.
Namjoon, who leans impossibly closer until you’re closing your eyes for fear of going cross-eyed. His breath fans across your nose, acting as your only warning before his lips find yours.
Light as a feather against your mouth, Namjoon kisses you.
As you sigh against his lips, you suddenly understand why kissing was prohibited. Because right now, all that you can think of - every breath, every heartbeat - it’s all saying the same thing.
Namjoon.
Just as your hands find their way to his chest and bunching up the fabric, he’s jumping back with a gasp and stumbling through the door of the wardrobe. You see his wide eyes, but you’re too busy standing there completely frozen and praying that nobody is up here still.
He looks around frantically, but looks at you with utter horror as the same voice as before pipes up from downstairs.
“See! I’m telling you that someone is up there-”
“Oh! Did you see that? I think I just saw him taking the emergency exit!” Min-jee retorts, and you can picture her frantically pointing out the window in an effort to distract the girls. “Hurry! He looked like he was running!”
The bell above the door chimes, excited voices fading as the group exits the shop. However, their timely exit does little to soothe the raging heartbeat pounding against your ribs.
“I- I’m not supposed to do that,” Namjoon reminds himself aloud. “Please, I’m so sorry-”
“They’re gone!” Min-jee calls out, poking her head up as she ascends the stairs. She spots you still standing in the wardrobe. “Oh, so that’s where you were hiding. Anyway, I’ve locked up the front, so we shouldn’t be having any more trouble with that.”
You can only offer her a weak smile, Namjoon still staring at you with that horrible, guilt-ridden expression, which you’re dying to erase.
“Thank you,” you say when Min-jee begins to notice the odd silence. “We’ll be down in a second, I think.”
Namjoon nods along, finally looking away to check the time. “Actually, we’ve got a reservation,” your stomach flips at the thought of sitting through an entire meal with his guilty apologies, “is there a way we can sneak out of here without being seen?”
Min-jee blinks, looking between the two of you but not saying anything. “Ok...um, yeah. The back alleyway should be clear, it’ll lead to the parking lot.”
Finally stepping out of the wardrobe, you look back at it with a glare.
“So much for Narnia,” you mumble, closing the door.
ˆˆˆˆ
Min-jee quickly places your books in a bag - Namjoon ends up getting the red one as well - and offers it to you with a smile. Automatically you reach out for it, but so does Namjoon. The second your hands meet you can’t help but jump, and the bag falls to the floor.
“Oh no,” you whimper out, feeling sorry for the old books. Before you can lean down to get them, Namjoon’s swooping them up and keeping a firm grip on the bag. He mumbles out a soft, “sorry” before following Min-jee toward the back exit.
The two of you thank her profusely for the day, and you promise that you’ll return soon. There’s no way you can leave a place like that alone for very long. Namjoon smiles for a moment, looking pleased that he picked a good place. However, once he catches your eye, he’s back to chewing on the inside of his cheek.
Slyly sneaking down down the alleyway, it’s quiet between the two of you. No matter how hard you pinch yourself, your thoughts keep zoning in on the way Namjoon’s lips felt on yours...the way he looked at you just before he leaned in...how perfect everything had been until he’d come to his senses-
You’ve made it to the car, and you click the unlock button, jumping back as it honks. Man, you’ve got to get out of your head.
Namjoon hurries to set the bag in the backseat before rushing to the driver’s side, opening the door up for you with significantly less flourish than before.
Knowing Namjoon, it’s eating him up alive. And there’s no way you’re about to let a kiss - something to celebrate, in your opinion - ruin the rest of this date.
Especially when it may very well be the only one you get.
“Namjoon,” you say, walking slowly toward him. His eyes jump up to yours, and you can already see that he’s hard at work trying to pretend like everything is fine.
“We’re going to be about an hour early for our reservation,” Namjoon admits, running a hand through his hair and immediately trying to fix it after. “I’m sorry for rushing you out of there, I wasn’t thinking straight. You can go back in, if you want. I’ll wait out here until you’re ready-”
“Namjoon.” He quits his rambling, red cheeks somehow turning redder as you stop before him. “I wanted you to kiss me.”
At this, he lets the door fall shut. “You...did?”
Wanting nothing more than to dispel the awkward tension, you laugh. “Of course I did! I’d be an idiot if I didn’t! So please...it’s nobody’s fault. So what, you broke a stupid rule-”
“And I’ve hurt the guys in the process of breaking that rule,” Namjoon explains, looking at you with clear, pained eyes. “Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t me regretting kissing you because- w-well, that’s not the point!” Leaning back against the car, you follow suit just as a large stormcloud blocks out the sun. It’s going to rain soon.
“Namjoon, you’ve all found ways to skirt around the rules in some way,” you confess, remember Hobi’s sweet hand kiss and Taehyung’s forehead kiss. “Sure, you actually broke the rule, but nobody is going to hate you for it. Nobody. Least of all me.”
He leans his head back, closing his eyes as he lets out a long breath. “It’s just, we all agreed to give you enough space to make a clear decision if you felt like you wanted to make one at the end of all this,” he confesses, not seeing the way your eyes widen. Oh. “And I’ve completely screwed that up.”
Sighing, you squint as a fat raindrop lands on your nose. “Well, we’re on a date, aren’t we? People sometimes kiss- I mean, honestly, we could have done a lot worse-” Namjoon chokes on his spit at that. “But if you need something to blame, please don’t blame yourself. Because I love this date, and as far as I can tell, the kiss only made it better.”
He peeks one eye open at you. “Really?”
“Really.” You shrug. “And see? I really am Amy! I always get what I want!” You don’t add the fact that that wasn’t quite true with Hoseok or Taehyung. “If anything, blame the wardrobe. Wardrobes are wacky, anyways.”
Namjoon snorts, rolling his eyes. “Blame the wardrobe? Really?”
“Yeah! Sometimes they transport you to Narnia, sometimes they mess with your common sense,” you give him a pointed look, which he avoids. “So if the boys get all upset about it, just tell them it was the wardrobe. I’ll back you up on it.”
Finally, Namjoon laughs. Like, the annoying little hyena laugh that he hates but you secretly love. And when he looks back down at you and opens up the door, he doesn’t look so upset about it.
“Be honest, would you have rather gone to Narnia or been stuck in there with me?”
You feign annoyance. “Ugh, just get in the car.”
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From the way your stomachs were rumbling and the rain was pouring, the two of you decided to bag the reservation. It was for some posh outdoor restaurant in Seoul that Namjoon pretended to be excited about.
Which is exactly how you ended up going through the McDonald’s drive thru and bringing it back to your place.
“Aren’t you on a diet or something?” You ask around your fries, eyes not leaving the television screen. The two of you had decided on Gone With the Wind, completely forgetting just how long it was.
Namjoon makes a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat, taking a swig of his drink. “Yeah, something like that. Today’s my cheat day, though.”
“Aw, you decided to spend your cheat day with me?” You tease. Namjoon rolls his eyes, finally deciding that maybe you really are Amy from Little Women. However, he can’t fight the feeling that he’s the Laurie to your Jo.
Not that he’ll be telling you that anytime soon. He’s certainly done enough today.
“More like our date happened to fall on my cheat day,” he bites back. “And I heard that they have really good cheesecake at that restaurant we bailed on.”
You hesitate before taking another bite of your food. “Should we have gone? They probably would’ve given us our food to go if we didn’t want to sit under the umbrellas. I feel bad, you made reservations and everything.”
Namjoon shrugs. “No, this is way better.” He holds up his McFlurry for emphasis. “They even had the cheesecake McFlurry back in season! Coincidence?”
“I think not!”
You both chuckle before falling back into the companionable silence you’d been in before. Over the course of the drive back to Seoul, you’d taken your time, stopping at a handful of little parks along the way. Namjoon had imitated the ducks before realizing how silly he looked, then hiding behind his hands for a solid five minutes before he could look you in the eyes again. Overall, it had been calm and relaxing.
As you watch Scarlett O’Hara flirting it up with different suitors on the screen, you can’t help but wonder if that’s you.
Sure, Gina told you back at the haunted house to just enjoy it. Chances are it was all just a phase, anyways. There was all of this romantic tension between you and the boys that would naturally fade away as their curiosity diminished after their dates.
At least, that’s what you assumed. However you’re quickly coming to realize that you’re a little out of depth here.
“You alright over there?” Namjoon asks, pulling you from your thoughts. “You have your thinking face on.”
You blink. “I have a thinking face?”
“Of course,” Namjoon replies as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You gonna tell me what’s got you so stressed?”
“No,” you say a little too quickly. “I’m just...thinking about the movie.” Not entirely a lie.
You know he won’t push it if you don’t want to talk about it, but you take a little bit of enjoyment in the way his lip pouts out. “Alright, if you say so.”
Only a few more minutes pass before he speaks up again, sounding a little hesitant. “You know that this is a long movie…”
“Oh, should we end it here?” You ask, a little disappointed because you were just getting to one of your favorite parts. “You don’t need to feel like you have to stay-”
“No, not that. I’m gonna finish the movie. It’s just,” he wipes his fingers off on a spare napkin before scooting a little closer to you. “Long movies call for cuddling, don’t you think?”
You nearly choke on your saliva. “You- you, as in Kim Namjoon, want to cuddle? You’re into cuddling?”
He laughs, tugging on your arm until you give in and collapse against his side. You hope that your content sigh isn’t too noticeable when he drapes an arm around your shoulder. “It just depends sometimes. But yes, I am. At the appropriate times.”
“Ah, and long movies-”
“Are the epitome of the appropriate time,” he explains, lightly pinching your arm when you let out a wry laugh.
“Hey!” You cry out, only to be shushed by him.
“Shhh, I’m trying to watch this.”
You just can’t find it in you to be annoyed.
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You’re asleep before the film is over, despite the fact that the sun barely went down. Something about having a full stomach and leaning your head on Namjoon’s shoulder just lulled you right to sleep.
You stir a little when Namjoon fidgets, pulling his phone out to call someone. His voice is deep and quiet, trying not to wake you.
“Hey, can you pick me up now?”
Despite your half-asleep state, you crack a smile. It’s quiet, but you can hear a familiar voice on the other side of the phone.
“Yeah, I’m close to there right now. Be there in a couple minutes. You’re at her apartment, right?”
“Thanks. Yeah, she’s conked out on the couch.”
There’s a laugh ringing through the phone. “Cute. Make sure she rests up, she’ll need it for our date next week.”
Namjoon sighs, not quite annoyed but not exactly pleased, either. “Yah, just hurry over.” He pauses for a moment. “Do you think I should wake her up to say goodbye?”
“Your call. But I mean, it’s not like you’re gonna give her a kiss goodbye. If she’s that tired, I’d just let her sleep.”
Your cheeks involuntarily turn red, and you can only imagine the way Namjoon looks right now. It’s his silence that gives him away.
“Hyung...what-”
“Text me when you get here,” Namjoon says, and suddenly the call ends.
Oh, he’s in for it tonight.
Stretching and trying to look like you totally weren’t just eavesdropping, you crack open your eyes to see Namjoon looking down at you with an amused expression.
“I would tell you that you missed the ending, but something tells me you’ve seen it before,” he drawls.
You chuckle breathily, yawning as you stretch your arms over your head. “Yeah, a couple of times.”
“I’m about to head out,” Namjoon begins, back to chewing on the inside of his cheek. “But thank you for going out with me. I seriously...it was just the best.” He smiles softly, and you wish you could have a picture of it.
Instead, you opt for nuzzling back into his side. “Aren’t I supposed to be the one thanking you? It was great, Namjoon-ah. I’ll have to read that book you got some time.”
He hums, returning the sentiment. “Yeah, we’ll do a book swap.” His phone lights up, but before you can see who it’s from, he’s snatching it up and jumping up from the couch. “They’re here.”
It’s tempting to not resort to begging him to stay a little longer - if only for the sake of his warmth which is quickly fading as he retreats to the door. However, you only pad after him, stopping him before he reaches the door.
“Thank you,” you whisper against his chest. “Tell everyone I say hello.”
“I will.” And with a rush of cool air, he’s out the door.
Gone, leaving you to stare blankly and wonder what just happened today.
And worse yet, what’s yet to come.
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Continuing my dissertation on why Supernatural is about Destiel even when Cas is not in the episode, and here is my analysis of 11x18 - The Chitters.
I initially had this episode on a “never watching again” because the monster grossed me out so much, but then I realized that the writers were giving us a literal Dean/Cas as husbands mirror story by doing this
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and hiding it in an episode with the most grotesque MOTW imaginable (seriously, name a worse monster than underground creatures who impregnate humans with their eggs via orgy and leave them in a damn cave; oh and cause them to shake, chitter, and have glowy green eyes.  BRB, puking).
A little trickster moment in the beginning starting this episode with two brothers, and the eldest - Matt - dying in a *shocker* supernatural way, and the youngest - Jesse - then going on to dedicate his life to avenging his brother’s death.  A lot of reviewers consider this intro to mean we are supposed to be looking for Sam/Dean parallels in the following narrative bEcAusE tHAt is WhAT thE boYS wOuLD dO, but I POSIT TO YOU IT IS NOT ONLY A 10000000 percent DESTIEL STORY, BUT ALSO THAT this is established in the very first scene - the conversation between Jesse and Matt in the flashback:
JESSE
It finally happened.
MATT
What? You didn’t get detention this week?
JESSE
Me and Jackie, we kissed.
MATT:
Okay, can I stop hearing about him every two minutes now? “You think he likes me?”, “Jackie looked at me. I-I think he looked at me.”
JESSE
He definitely likes me.
***I mean Matt’s comment -  does this not immediately remind you of Sam “I am in constant Destiel super hell” Winchester?
For reference, here is Sam’s “I am in super hell please stop now” face:
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**Also he LOOKED AT HIM?! What is 80% of Destiel if not subtextual pining and LOOKING.  I don’t make the rules.  Jesse is Dean.  And Matt is dead.  Matt’s death ENDS the “brother portion” of this story insofar as the parallel is concerned. (**please note I am not advocating for Sam to die.  the parallel is just NOT about the brother storyline in this episode - there are plenty of other “mirrors” for the brother storyline, but this is NOT one of them).
We cut to the real Dean continuing in FULL RESEARCH MODE ACTIVATED because Amara has Cas at this point and he is panicking.  
Was the red and black flannel an intentional wardrobe choice to mirror Jesse’s jacket?  We will never know. (Yes.  Everything is intentional.  This is Supernatural. We hate it here. Also Cesar is in a KHAKI vest because KHAKI means THINGS in Supernatural for REASONS). 
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Also I love FULL RESEARCH MODE ACTIVATED desperately trying to get Cas back Dean.  It’s real “I just started studying for my final the night before at 10 p.m.” energy.  He’s refusing to stop to even look at Sam here:
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Anyway, a few gross scenes of green eyed people, orgies, and a hilarious conversation about weed (or was it oregano?- 
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Jensen Ackles you slay me) later -
Jesse and Cesar save Dean’s bacon and the four of them end up in a bar chatting over beers.  Here is where it is INCREDIBLY apparent that Jesse is a mirror for Dean (also I’d watch a bottle episode of these four hanging out doing regular every day stuff a la How I Met Your Mother or Friends).  
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JESSE
One of them took my brother 27 years ago.
[Sam and Dean look surprised. Sam turns to Dean, and Dean is speechless.
DEAN
[looks to Jesse] I’m sorry to hear that.
JESSE
I’ve been waiting years to come back and have this shot at them. So, I hope you understand, I’m gonna ask you two to take a step back from this one.
DEAN
[nods] Well, catch us up. Where have you guys been?
JESSE
In the woods, where the action is, looking for their burrow and saving your ass.
[Sam is slightly taken aback, but he gives a look of approval. Cesar scoffs.]
JESSE
What?
CESAR
Well, one of the reasons we’ve been holed up in the trees is because Jesse hates the town and everyone in it.
JESSE
Because they’re ignorant and useless. [turns to Cesar] They didn’t believe me 27 years ago, they’re not gonna start now.
CESAR
[sternly] It’s boneheaded not to be following leads in town.
JESSE
Hey, nobody stopping you from talking to the whole box of crackers.
[Cesar sighs and looks away.]
***You could replace “Jesse” with “Dean” and the lines wouldn’t need to change an iota to stay in the character.  Cesar’s scoffing, the stern response, calling Jesse boneheaded, sighing, looking away exasperatedly - 100% Cas energy.  I really don’t make the rules. Cesar isn’t anything like Sam, and he isn’t meant to be.  This is not a brother story.  THIS IS A STORY ABOUT TRUE LOVE DAMMIT.
Dean makes that red herring comment about them bickering just like brothers , then:
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Which by the way is EXACTLY how Dean and Cas bicker.  Hence why Sam is always in super hell.  
I can’t find a better quality image of this montage, but I really wanted to bring attention to the EXPRESSION on Dean’s face:
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***Sure, Dean. You’re curious about what it’s like to live with a hunter.  Okay. 
Also, whoever made this, you get it.
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They start arguing on the next step - questioning a former sheriff, or going back to the woods to search for the creepy crawlies’ hidey hole.
JESSE
[sternly] We need to find the burrow.
CESAR
[patiently] Jess, we’ve been beating around the woods for two days.
JESSE
[stubbornly] That’s where they are. You saw the tracks.
CESAR
I can keep searching on my own. We’re losing.
****sternly-patiently-stubbornly <- it’s like a never-ending Destiel refrain.  Cesar’s willingness to continue on what is purely Jesse’s quest for revenge so Jesse can move on is also so very Cas-adjacent.  I LOVE A SUBTEXTUAL PARALLEL.
Anyway, then they split into twos, pairing Sam with Jesse and Cesar with Dean for the next few scenes.  Lots of reviewers tracked this as a brother-brother (i.e. Sam is paired with the version of himself and Dean is paired with the version of himself) parallel, but THIS scene with Sam, Jesse, and the old sheriff SCREAMS otherwise:
JESSE
[angrily pushed Cochran down the chair] You son of a bitch.
[Sam moves forward to get Jesse back.]
JESSE
You knew the whole time! You knew where they were when everybody was suffering.
COCHRAN
[pushes Jesse off him] I was suffering too!
SAM
[pulls Jesse away from Cochran and tries to calm him down] Jesse. Hey, hey. Hold on. Hold on.
***EXCUSE ME, did he just say DEAN’S CATCHPHRASE.  And how many times has Sam done this exact thing to Dean when he is in a rage?!?   I DO NOT MAKE THE RULES.  
ALSO something about THE JUXTAPOSITION of Cesar and Jesse in the following scene.  This is very Dean with Cas quietly waiting for him to me.
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A lot of creepy monster montage scenes and dead bodies later, the day is saved.  Cue adorable husband exchange, and the news that Jesse and Cesar are going to retire.  
SAM
So, uh, what’s freedom look like?
JESSE
Nice little spread in New Mexico. We’ve been paying on it for years. Set foot on it about … twice?
CESAR
Gonna raise horses. And if that goes bust, Jesse used to be an EMT.
JESSE
Oh, so now I’m supporting your ass?
[Cesar chuckles and looks at Jesse lovingly, before both men turns to the Winchesters. Sam follows the laugh.]
CESAR
 It’s time to start living.
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Also this SHOULDER touch.  And it’s the left shoulder.  (there is a great Casifer post out there about how Dean was thrown off specifically because Casifer touched his RIGHT shoulder, and Cas always touches his LEFT).  
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All I really need now is a FACE CUP, tbh.  
You want more parallels?  Recall that CESAR (aka Cas-adjacent) is the one who saves Dean’s bacon in the beginning.  
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Then he helps him get up off the ground. You know, as in he RAISES him from -
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(JENSEN YOUR ACTING CHOICES WITH THAT LOOK ON YOUR FACE ILYSM)
Dean, realizing that he is watching an AU version of himself and his boyfriend/future husband:
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Yes, hi, we are the same character.
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Anyway, I will always and forever love this episode for showing us the ending Dean and Cas deserved (WHAT WAS THE REASONNNN) - settling down on a small ranch together in New Mexico.  At least these two got their happily ever after.
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ALSO, MANIFESTING
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Maybe then Sam can finally leave super hell.
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BONUS:  
Sam: Couldn’t do it, huh?
Dean: [shakes head] No, didn’t feel right.
Sam: Yeah. I know what you mean. Two hunters who make it to the finish line?
Dean: Yeah, you leave that alone.
Saving this to my box of INCONSISTENCY TRASH DUMP FOR 15x20.
P.S. I am starting to develop a theory that the episodes we all like LEAST, and therefore tend to skip [or that have off putting plotlines/ don’t go with the general myth arc/creepy monsters/bizarre or even boring scenarios] are the ones with potentially the most subtext, and therefore the best underlying story line (so likely no Cas in the episode, random stuff like Red Meat, the creepy chitters monster that makes you want to cringe). 
So at the end of the day, the subtext was always the real story anyway.
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(OMG I JUST REMEMBERED THAT THE GIRL WEREWOLF IN BLOODLINES WEARS A FUCKING KHAKI TRENCH COAT THE ENTIRE TIME.  AM I GOING TO HAVE TO REWATCH THE ALWAYS SKIPPABLE BLOODLINES NOW?  And that definitely means I am DOOMED to rewatch the worst episode that ever was when I get to season 15.  Dammit.  What have I done?!?!??!?!)
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kaistarus · 4 years ago
Text
Crush At First Sight
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Pairing: Nishinoya X Reader
Words: 2K
Summary: Attending the boy's volleyball finals was a no brainer-you'd take any opportunity to ditch school. You didn't think you'd find yourself getting so attached to one of the players...
Notes: I don't believe that someone could watch Noya play and not instantly fall in love, so I did him right
Masterlist
The only time you’d heard about the boy’s volleyball team was when someone called them ‘flightless crows’ in the hallway, which you assumed was a bad thing. However, when your friends mentioned they were skipping class to apparently watch them play in the Spring finals you were all for attending.
You’d take any opportunity to ditch school-even if it was to watch some guys lose a volleyball game.
The stadium was more filled than you were expecting. As you slid through the crowd to find three open seats you realized perhaps this was a bigger deal than you’d anticipated. Once seated, Michimiya passed everyone noise makers she’d picked up from some guys near the stadium’s entrance. You tested the bright orange cone-shaped objects by lightly tapping them together.
“So, they must have really improved this year, huh?” You said as your eyes wandered around the packed stands, apparently you weren’t the only ones skipping school today.
“They got a new coach,” Michimiya said, bouncing lightly from nerves and anticipation, “and a lot of talented first years.”
“Not hard on the eyes either,” Aihara nudged your shoulder and gestured towards the team congregated on the sidelines around their coaches. You nodded slowly as you scanned the group, lingering on the unfortunate boy who got stuck with the orange jersey.
At least he could pull it off.
The teams took the court, their anticipation radiating into the audience and extending even to you as you clutched your noise makers tightly. After the whistle was blown, and the first serve made, the game of Karasuno vs Shiratorizawa officially began.
A few minutes into the match you found your gaze latching onto the guy in the orange jersey. Shiratorizawa was terrifying, especially the big guy with his powerful spikes. You winced the first time you saw it because you couldn’t imagine receiving something like that without breaking your arms, but the libero guy was doing it like it was nothing. He had adapted to the playstyle and for every ball that made your stomach drop he would appear from seemingly nowhere and make a save.
There was something about the way he could go from intensely focused on the court to relaxed on the sidelines within moments that had you mesmerized, as well. You couldn’t help the weird fullness in your chest as he guzzled down water and smiled goofily to some of his teammates after their first set as if the pressure wasn’t weighing on him.
“What are you so focused on?” Michimiya asked while bopping you on the head with her cone.
“Nothing,” you said as the boys began to take the court again, preparing for the next serve. “Hey, what was number four’s name?”
Aihara’s brow quirked. “Nishinoya, why?”
“I’m just wondering...” You said, subconsciously smiling when he slid and barely saved the ball with one hand. “He’s just pretty good is all.”
“Daichi said he’s their ‘Guardian Deity’,” Michimiya wiggled her eyebrows at you.
“Boys are so dramatic.” Aihara scoffed.
You couldn’t argue that one.
As the sets continued you found yourself growing increasingly attached to Nishinoya: heart dropping if he missed a ball, swelling with pride anytime he made a play, and you’d even find your cheeks warming whenever you caught sight of him smiling to himself or a teammate. It was becoming embarrassing, truthfully, considering you’d never even talked to him.
“Alright, at least pretend you’re not obsessively staring at him.” Aihara nudged you playfully as the fourth set wrapped up and the boys were switching sides on the court.
“I’m not.”
Michimiya giggled, bopping you on the nose. “You geek out every time he touches the ball. It’s not hard to notice.”
“You’re one to talk. As if you haven’t been fangirling over Daichi.” Aihara leaned back, sighing dramatically. “I’m trapped between a pair of lovesick fools.”
“I don’t even know the guy,” you felt your cheeks warming. “Even if I did he probably wouldn’t be interested in--”
“Have you ever met Nishinoya before?” Aihara interrupted you. “Like, at school or in any context? Heard about him or talked to him… anything?”
You shook your head and they both started laughing lightly before Michimiya put a hand on your shoulder. “Trust me, you’ll be fine.”
You tilted your head in confusion, but before you could form a retort the ref’s whistle signaled the start of the final set. Your grip on the noise makers were tight as both sides fought strongly, neither willing to lose a single point and give up their chance for nationals. It felt surreal when Karasuno pulled that final point. Everyone erupted into cheers as the three of you held onto each other, jumping and shouting, unable to contain your excitement while celebrating the boy’s well earned victory. Boys who were currently dogpiled in the center of the court while the third years had tears streaming down their faces in disbelief.
It was an honor to be a part of and you couldn’t have been prouder to have them representing your school. When they lined up in front of you and bowed to thank you all for your attendance you clutched your hands against your chests. They really earned the win.
You were pulled out of your randomly emotional train of thought by Aihara’s grip tugging you behind her as they shuffled out of the stands.
“Where are we going?” You asked when they left the gym opposite the stadium’s exit.
“We’re going to congratulate the guys!” Michimiya sent a smile over her shoulder and your heart accelerated to an unhealthy pace.
“I don’t know if I’m mentally prepared for that scenario,” you pointed toward the opposite end of the hall. “Maybe I should just meet you guys outside and-”
“Oh no you don’t,” Aihara began pushing you forward by your shoulders and you started to whine in protest. “You are strong and fearless and no boy shall knock you down.”
Michimiya giggled ahead of you where she remained completely useless in your time of need. You let Aihara guide you through groups of people finding their way toward the exit until you all spotted the boy’s team in their telling Karasuno volleyball club jackets.
You did a quick scan of everyone, but didn’t see the spiked hair you’d been observing for so long. You weren’t sure if it was relief or disappointment you felt.
“There he is,” Aihara gave you a squeeze, pointing near the far wall where Nishinoya was digging through his duffel bag on the ground, eyebrows furrowed and tongue stuck out adorably in concentration. Your heart started pounding at the sight of him so close. The bizarre realization that he was in fact a real person finally hit which made your palms sweaty.
“As it turns out. I have decided to denounce myself from boys and am going to live a life of celibacy.” You nodded confidently, trying to make a u-turn, but Aihara annoyingly spun you around.
“Shut up,” she rolled her eyes. “Just talk to him. I promise it will work out.” She patted your shoulder. “Trust me.”
You glared at her, mumbling insults under your breath as you slowly walked over to where Nishinoya continued to dig through his mess of a bag. You took a deep breath and decided your best move was to just deep dive straight into your doom. What could possibly go wrong?
“Uh, Nishinoya, right?”
He glanced at you briefly, looking you up and down before continuing to dig through his bag.“Yep, do need you help finding someone?” He triumphantly pulled out some IcyHot before pointing toward where the rest of his team lounged. “Most of the guys are over there.”
“I was actually hoping to talk to you.” You winced as you noticed the bruises that decorated his arms when he started to peel off his jacket.
“Why? Is something wrong? Do you have a message for me or something?”
“No… I just wanted to tell you how amazing I thought you were today.” You quickly glanced away in embarrassment when he finally looked up at you with wide-eyes. You dug your toe into the ground as you urged yourself to continue, “I was watching you and just thought you were really cool and--”
“Sorry,” he chuckled and put a hand up to stop you. “I was actually wearing the orange jersey. Number four.” He pointed to the others in the center of the hall again. “The guy you're looking for is probably over there.”
You blinked. “Nishinoya. Orange jersey. Number four. Libero. Guardian Deity or whatever.” Your embarrassment was dissolving into frustration. “Is that you?”
“Yeah?”
“Then I’m looking for you.”
He stared at his bag as his brain tried to process the situation you’d presented to him. Suddenly, his gaze whipped up at you. “Holy shit,” he pointed his finger at himself. “You’re talking to me.”
“Have been.”
He tensed and locked his eyes on the IcyHot he was currently trying to rub on his back. He quickly threw it near his bag and you felt another fond smile growing on your face. “I’m Nishinoya,” he said, extending his hand toward you before shoving it down to his side. “Wait, you know that. Shit, were you complimenting me? Did you just call me cool?”
“I did do that, yeah.”
His face turned a bright shade of red, “but you can’t do that it goes against all the rules.”
“What are you-”
“Look,” He pointed his finger between the two of you causing you to raise a brow. “I’m supposed to flirt with and compliment you, then you say something mean that hurts my feelings.” He smacked his shoes for finality. “It’s a strict formula.”
“What’s the formula for when I flirt with you then?” You asked, a sly smirk spreading across your lips. His shoulders went up to his ears and he stared at his hands longer than you felt necessary for such a simple question.
He looked up at you defeated. “I don’t know I’m bad at math.”
You covered your mouth to hold back the laugh trying to force its way out. He was just so cute though. “Well, so am I, but mutual flirting seems like a good solution. If you were an interested party that is.”
“I’m a very interested party…” He murmured under his breath while narrowing his eyes at you. “Did Tanaka put you up to this?”
“I don’t know who that is.”
He furrowed his brow in thought before pulling a flip phone out from his duffel and holding it out to you, “can I have your number?”
Your cheeks dusted pink as you created your contact under Nishinoya’s intense gaze. He hurriedly checked it’s existence when you returned the phone to him, staring at it skeptically while he cradled the phone in his hands.
“I promise it’s mine.” You reassured him and he embarrassingly snapped the phone closed.
“Okay,” he mumbled.
“(Y/N)!” Aihara yelled from where the rest of Karasuno’s team was grouped and not so subtly staring at you both. Your face slowly blossomed red and in your peripheral you saw Nishinoya flip off the ones waving at him. “We’re heading out. Are you done or do you need more time with your-”
“I’ll be right there.” You interrupted, glancing back to Nishinoya. “I’ll, uh, talk to you soon?”
He shot you a double thumbs up and you couldn’t stop from snorting at how adorable that was, especially when he started at them in shame. You waved a good-bye and narrowly dodged the small group already sprinting to Nishinoya while you weren’t even a few steps away.
Aihara wrapped an arm around your shoulder as your eyes lingered on boys rubbing Nishinoya’s head, bouncing around excitedly, or giving him suggestive looks. You felt your stomach rolling from embarrassment at all the attention he was receiving from such a small interaction.
“Ignore them. They’re just stupid boys.”
“I guess…”
“But one of them’s your stupid boy.” Michimiya said, poking you in the stomach. You swatted her hands away, and chewed your lip to keep down a smile when your phone vibrated. The ‘hello :)’ from an unknown number made your heart flutter.
Yeah, one of them was your stupid boy.
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aceofspadegrass · 3 years ago
Text
Third Times The Charm~
Characters: Hatter, Niragi Suguru, Chishiya Shuntaro, Last Boss, @a-simp-20 , @niragis-right-hand-rabbit, and Me
Genre: Dunno, but Hatter's out for blood. ♥️ Hey, at least there's some fluff at the end!
1.3k words
We're back at it again, except this is more aftermath than actual heisting. Time goes by and this rendition of Hatter is gonna murder us one of these days.
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Hatter thought it was the end of it all, he really did. The three that kept managing to slip underneath his nose, past the militants, would stop after a few times. No use in challenging fate too many times, there was always bound to be a slip-up somewhere.
Yet it happened again, and this time it was getting far too out of hand. He had just come back from a game, just as many of his loyal and dedicated people were doing at the same timeframe. Sweaty and exhausted from the Spades game he just had to push through — with an overwhelming success, he should add — he wanted nothing more than to sit back, relax, maybe have a nice bottle of that black cherry vodka he managed to win last week. What better way to relax?
Well, he wasn’t getting that privilege, as he steps into his room only to find something amiss.
“ Where. Is. My couch.” Hatter says to an invisible audience, eyes staring at the spots where his couches were. The funny part was, through the slow realization of the scene in front of him, was nothing else looked remotely out of place. Every little thing that he remembered leaving on the floor was still there, and nothing looked to be moved. The only evidence that anything was missing was the blank spaces, perfectly aligned in the sad shadow of his purloined couches.
Hatter slowly takes a slow, deep breath, eyes fixated on the spot — and perhaps a little bit of bloodlust was forming in his body, perhaps even more — and he lets it out, a smile of doom forming upon his lips. Oh, those three were definitely on his Super Duper Traitors list. Nobody was gonna steal his couches. Especially a second time.
Hatter strides away to his bathroom to wash up a little, finding zero reasons to not look good before he sends a search party for these three so he can finally get his hands on them. He splashes cool water on his face, washing away every bit of grime and sweat that remained on his face, sighing in relief as the water cooled him just a bit.
Not cool enough to dissipate the fire in his system, of course, but it was a good attempt on the water’s part. He straightens up, staring at himself in the mirror, smile curled on his lips as he nods to himself. “ Oh, this’ll be the day you’ll regret betraying me. I’m going to make sure traitors pay.”
Hatter turns around, his kimono swaying rather spectacularly as he begins his walk down to call a surprise manhunt. Sure, he felt a bit bad that he was sending out people just after finishing harrowing games for their lives, but it was for the greater good of him! After all, he knew what was best for everyone to get out eventually, and they all listened to him. He loved these people, how they willingly fought for the greater cause in support of him and the safe haven he created for all of them.
That support he got was going to a great cause, and that included finding the traitors. He passes by a few people, smiling as he relays the call to them, to spread the word to come back to the lobby so he could tell them all the important news. He doesn’t bother to check if they do as he asked, knowing full well that they’d do anything to help like the good people they were, making his way up to the floor where he usually spoke to the members of his beloved utopia.
Within minutes, the crowd filter left and right to hear what Hatter had to say next, Hatter smiling down at them as they all waited patiently for his news, a few chattering amongst themselves. Hatter raises his arms, a wide smile on his face.
“ Greetings everyone! I do sincerely apologize for calling you all here once more when you all deserve time to relax! Trust me, so do I, but this is quite important for you all to hear!” Hatter starts, voice clear and concise to attract even the most distracted of people. Eyes look up at him from below, Hatter raising his arms and clenching one into a fist. “ As you all know, there are three rules to this Beach!” One hand holds up three fingers, each one going down as he repeats them. “ One! You must always wear a swimsuit! Two! You can do whatever you want here! And three! Traitors will be killed.” Hatter lowers his arms to rest on the railing, leaning forward with a calm smile. “ This is about the third rule~”
That gets people chattering again, fear in their tone and faces. Hatter laughs, and he waves a hand to shush them. “ Do not fear! This isn’t about you, my beautiful and beloved members! No, this is about a certain group that continues to escape my grasp, ones that you may have seen before! They come in and out like cats in the night, frisking away my items like it is nothing more than candy in a candy shop! The horror!” He puts the back of his hand against his forehead, dipping down as if the sheer thought would make him faint. He straightens up again into that relaxed position near immediately, waving a hand out towards the crowd. “ But fear not, for I have a task that will require all of you, militant and guests alike! I want you to work extra hard in locating these dastardly fiends and bring them here so that I may properly hand them justice!”
The crowd grows louder as they continue to gossip amongst one another, and Hatter feels a wave of glee pour through him from the thrill of getting one step closer to catching these robbers. “ If you bring me them, I will reward you graciously! Consider this a bounty, a game without consequence on your end! You are all smart, capable people, and the power of many overthrows a few!” People begin cheering, Hatter looking through the crowd with his award-winning smile. “ Thank you for your patience and ears, you may all go have fun now~” He says, ending his rather passionate little speech as people cheered for him and chattered loudly, Hatter stepping away with a flourish.
Perhaps like this, he’ll finally capture the little thieves and he could finally rest.
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Meanwhile……
“ Holy fuck your fucking nails hurt-“ There was a light chuckle, Niragi scowling with his eyes shut tight as his hair was massaged with shampoo, head tipped back into the water basin as he rested on a reclining chair. “ Sorry! I haven’t trimmed them yet, wasn’t expecting you to have a slip ’n slide for hair so it was a last second decision! Now stay still so I can wash your hair-“ They said, going back to trying their best to be gentle but firm.
Niragi pouts, but he lets it continue. Besides him was Chloe, who was casually humming the Mentos ad song while trying to give him a manicure, having already finished his other hand. In the background was Last Boss and Chishiya, the latter of which was just there for the free strawberry milk that was brought in. Last Boss was merely waiting for his turn for a head scrub, despite having absolutely zero hair to actually scrub. The both of them were chilling on the freshly stolen new couch, with multiple empty bottles of milk and a few empty water bottles at their (freshly water foot massaged) feet.
“ So…. are we ever going to tell Hatter that we’re borrowing his couch?” The last member of the heisting squad, Ila, asks. Chloe shakes her head. The one still scrubbing the giraffe lizard merely shrugs.
“ Eh, he’ll never figure out anyways. We’ll get away like we usually do, and these three are not allowed to spill because we’re nice and offered them a free spa day.”
“ You said you’d break my dick with a baseball bat.” Niragi mutters, just loud enough for them to hear. “ The offer still stands~”
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kpopfanfictrash · 4 years ago
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Posting Date: July 8th, 6:00 PM CT (UTC/GMT-05:00)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers / College!AU / Humor / Smut (as requested in my fundraising initiative for BLM)
Pairing: Jungkook / Reader
Synopsis: Jeon Jungkook had messed with you for the last time. That was what you thought when the hockey team – led by the insufferable Jungkook – kicked your dance team out again from your reserved room at the gym. In retaliation, you planned a prank of epic proportions and were caught in the act by none other than Jungkook himself. Before the rift between you could grow any deeper, you accidentally overheard something you were not meant to hear. Something which overshadowed even your heated rivalry. Faced with the choice between obvious wrong and teaming up with your worst enemy – you reluctantly chose the latter. But what will you do when feelings you once thought of as hatred become something decidedly… not?
Estimated WC: 42K
Rating: 18+
Preview: 1,941
The back of Jeon Jungkook’s head was as infuriating as the rest of him.
In the last row of the classroom, you thought this to yourself while typing into your laptop. Notetaking was part of your official duties as Teacher Assistant for Professor Rosenbarr’s class. This, along with grading homework, proctoring exams, and a variety of other bitchwork.
Despite this, the job of a TA was the best-paying on campus, not to mention that Professor Rosenbarr personally wrote the recommendation which landed your upcoming summer internship. Junior year was stressful enough as it was, with everyone turning twenty-one and realizing with some shock they were halfway through University.
Only one summer remained before entering the real world – everyone you spoke to said that this summer internship was crucial. If there was a blank period between Junior and Senior year of University, you might as well type FUCKED AROUND in the blank section of your resume and be done with it. No, this TA role was worth all the bitchwork, if only because it directly led to your upcoming internship.
The presence of Jungkook in your class though, had you seriously considering the merits of quitting.
Glowering at his messy head three rows before you, you wondered if he had even bothered to shower before coming to class. Probably not, based on the state of his hair and clothes. Both were rumpled, with wrinkles permanently stamped into the fabric of his hoodie. You were so consumed by the state of his appearance that when he stretched, turning around, there was no time to look away.
Jungkook’s eyes locked with yours and he blinked, taken aback by your staring. While you watched, his gaze narrowed.
See something you like? he mouthed over the heads of the people between you.
Stomach plummeting, your gaze snapped back to the screen of your laptop. After a long moment of pause, you slowly looked up and found him still looking. Most infuriating of all was the smirk on his lips, as though you had acted exactly as he predicted.
Once again, you remembered why Jungkook was the worst. It gave him no small amount of pleasure to see you embarrassed. Just as it made your own stomach leap to see his brow furrowed with frustration, lips pressed together as he huffed in annoyance.
The two of you had been at each other’s throats since freshman year, a feud of such epic proportion, it was difficult to remember how it had begun. All you knew was that by now, too much blood had been spilled for you to ever go back. Jungkook hated you and you hated him. That much was certain.
Still looking at you, Jungkook arched a brow.
In response to this, you scowled. Pay attention, you mouthed, gesturing at the board.
Jungkook glanced over his shoulder.
Professor Rosenbarr was so absorbed in his lecture, you doubt he would have noticed if the fire alarm and sprinklers went off. There was a zone he reached while lecturing about statistical anomalies in economic theory which not even you could pull him out of.
More importantly, he definitely did not notice Jungkook’s lack of attention. A girl in the front row was buffing her nails, the guy behind her was paying a bill and the guy to his right was scrolling through Tumblr.
At least Jungkook had his notes open, even if he was not looking at the board.
Making a face in his direction, you shooed a hand forward. With a roll of his eyes, Jungkook finally got the hint and turned around to face front. Pulling his hoodie overhead, he slumped low in his seat.
Unable to stop yourself, you let out a sigh.
The girl next to you frowned. “Shh,” she said.
“Sorry,” you whispered, sinking even lower.
While stewing in your own embarrassment, a ping sounded from your laptop. Looking down, you scowled again at the familiar email address.
Subject: hey TA
Aren’t you supposed to be grading us? Maybe you should pay more attention to the lecture & less to the back of my head
Fury clouding your gaze, it made it difficult to see as you typed.
Subject: re: hey TA
Maybe if your head weren’t so big, I would be able to see the slides
Pressing send, you looked up and waited for him to respond. From the last row of class, you watched Jungkook open your email, snort and bend forward.
Professor Rosenbarr cleared his throat from the front of the room.
“Something amusing about economic theory, Mr. Jeon?”
Jungkook’s head snapped up; a deer caught in headlights. “Um. No, sir.”
The Professor arched a brow. “While I appreciate your formal language, perhaps you could extend the same respect to your dress code next class. Hood down,” he said, pointedly glancing at Jungkook’s large sweatshirt.
Dejectedly, Jungkook reached up to lower his hood.
Even from your seat, you could see his ears were bright red. A small pang of sympathy went through you before reminding yourself he deserved it. Jungkook should have been paying attention – just like you should have.
Bending forward, you resumed taking notes. Professor Rosenbarr continued his lecture, the class returned normalcy but still, Jungkook failed to respond to your email.
This did not surprise you. Jungkook had always been flaky – one of the many reasons you two did not get along. You preferred things orderly, with everyone following an agreed set of rules and Jungkook had his own expectations.
A message appeared in the corner of your screen. For a moment, your heart skipped and then you realized it was only your groupchat with Seokjin and Gina, your two best friends.
Seokjin: Y/N, stop ignoring meee [10:41 AM]
Gina: lol Seokjin, she’s teaching [10:41 AM]
Seokjin: she’s not the one teaching. Rosenblah is [10:41 AM]
Seokjin: Y/N, THIS IS AN EMERGENCY! [10:41 AM]
Y/N: his name is Rosenbarr, Seokjin. What’s the emergency? [10:41 AM]
Seokjin: finally [10:42 AM]
Seokjin: there’s a party this weekend. You in? [10:42 AM]
Gina: what night? [10:42 AM]
Seokjin: Saturday [10:42 AM]
Gina: okay, cool [10:42 AM]
Seokjin: why? What’re you doing Friday? [10:42 AM]
Gina: nothing [10:42 AM]
Seokjin: so, why did you – oh, never mind. Y/N, you in? [10:42 AM]
Y/N: this was the emergency? [10:42 AM]
Y/N: who’s throwing the party? [10:42 AM]
Seokjin: um. A friend [10:42 AM]
Y/N: Seokjin [10:43 AM]
Seokjin: okay, fine, the friend is Taehyung & the party is at hockey house. But Y/N, listen to me [10:43 AM]
Y/N: pass [10:43 AM]
Gina: lol Seokjin, you had to have known that would fail [10:43 AM]
Seokjin: I was hoping that by Junior year, we would have all become rational and mature human beings [10:44 AM]
Seokjin: aka, this feud you have with Jungkook is stupid, Y/N [10:44 AM]
Gina: *gasps* he said the name! [10:44 AM]
Gina: a plague upon your house, Seokjin! [10:44 AM]
Y/N: listen. While yes, I am a rational and mature human being [10:44 AM]
Y/N: his royal douchebaggery is not [10:44 AM]
Y/N: ergo, your wish was doomed to fail, Seokjin [10:44 AM]
Seokjin: sigh [10:44 AM]
Seokjin: well, do you at least want to get pizza with Gina and I after? [10:44 AM]
Y/N: that, I can do [10:45 AM]
Seokjin: okay, fine. It’s a plan [10:45 AM]
“We’ll pick up at the same place on Wednesday,” said Professor Rosenbarr, interrupting your train of thought. Head jerking up, your fingers fell from the keys. “Please read Chapter 4 of the textbook before then and complete the assignment online.”
As soon as he stopped, the class began to pack up, shoving books into backpacks and standing from their seats.
Rereading your notes, you struggled to recall who had last asked a question. Professor Rosenbarr liked to have that information to grant class participation points, but the conversation with Jungkook had thrown you off your game.
Before you could ask someone around you, a shadow fell over your desk. Looking up, you found Jungkook in the aisle, thumbs hooked lazily beneath the straps of his backpack.
Frowning, you glanced past. “You’re blocking the aisle,” you announced, shutting your laptop. Shoving this in your bag, you attempted to stand and found him still standing there. “Not to mention my way out of class.”
“Just came to see if you needed my notes,” Jungkook said, nonchalant. “You seemed pretty distracted.”
Glancing at him, you scowled. “I’m the TA here, not you, Jeon.”
“I know.” His smile widened and you repressed the sudden desire to smack it from his face. “Doesn’t change the fact that you were staring at me.”
“The only reason I was staring at you was because you look like you haven’t showered in days. Is the hockey team really that hard-up for wins? Resorted to repulsing the competition?”
Instantly, his smile disappeared.
Jungkook had recently been made Captain of the University hockey team and it was an endless source of gossip on campus, since usually only Seniors held the coveted title. Word on the street was Jungkook was just that good – or, the hockey team was that bad.
“I showered after practice,” he said, a bit sulky. “And we’re not that bad this year.”
Despite his words, the furrow between his brow deepened and Jungkook aimlessly shoved a hand through his hair. His fingers instantly became tangled, fighting a minute before he worked through.
Staring at him for a moment, you eventually blinked and tore free.
“Whatever,” you said, glancing past him. “Let me leave.”
Professor Rosenbarr was long gone, but he would expect your notes in his office by the end of day. You still needed to format them the way that he preferred, review them for errors and find the name of the last person who spoke.
Jungkook stepped aside and, pushing past him, you entered the aisle. As you climbed the steps, you heard him follow suit. The impending deadline began to weigh on you and – against all better judgement – you turned around.
“Hey,” you exhaled, coming to a stop on the last step.
Jungkook looked up. “What?”
“Did you… hear who asked the last question in class?”
Surprise flickered over his features, though he quickly composed them. “Uh, it was Nelson.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
You lingered for a moment, then turned around and left the room. Shoving open the door to the hall, you did not bother to wait for him to exit. Disappearing into the crowd, you kept your head low and placed distance between you. He had been startled into being nice to you, but you knew from experience this would not last for long.
Jungkook always found a way to have the last word.
Your theory was proven as soon as you entered the quad, phone dinging loudly to announce a new email. Sliding open the app, you finally found his response to your message.
Subject: re: re: hey TA
If you’re still wondering how clean my body is, feel free inspect it yourself. Hate to leave that kind of doubt on your conscience xx
Swallowing, your fingers hovered over the delete button before you gave up and shoved your phone in your pocket. You would not allow Jungkook to get under your skin so easily.
Such a feat was easier said than done, however. Jungkook had nearly two years of practice at pushing your buttons. By this point, you thought he might know your ticks better than your best friends. All it took was a well-placed wink from him to make your blood boil.
Still – you would figure out a way to get Jungkook back. You always did.
After all, you had two years of experience at pressing his buttons as well.
[ TO BE CONTINUED ]
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steve0discusses · 3 years ago
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Yugioh S5 Ep 19: Yugi and the Only Neck Accessory He Didn’t Really Want to Wear
Been busy! Hopefully stuff will open up soon as I’m taking a hiatus on a different quarantine project and will be finishing painting the entire roof of my car this week? One can hope. Sanding the rust off the whole top of a car takes a long time it turns out?
Also, fun Yugioh fact, I recently painted a book cover for an author who is older so she’s never seen the show, and she looked at my tumblr, saw my Duke Devlin fanart and was like “That’s him. That’s my main character. OMG. You captured him perfectly!” and I was like “Ma’am that is Duke Devlin, hence the single dice earring on his lobes there, but we can work with this.” and now a spiritual Duke Devlin is on the cover of a Wuxia-style fantasy trilogy on the Vella. Had to give him a top knot and delete the eyeliner for Wuxia reasons but uh, that’s just Duke.
So long story short, fanart can get you work, don’t even worry about posting that stuff online because most people don’t even know it’s fanart anyway and older ladies freakin love it.
Back in Yugioh, the team was doing their best to navigate a map through the woods and they do about as well as they normally do.
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And inside Tristan lifted up the floorboards and was like “I found the only way out, this is it, this is the only way.”
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And they ended up in something that has a color scheme I would actually associate with a jungle. Finally. We have finally left California (in order to go to another Hell.)
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Youknow, when we went to California, we visited Hell, and when we went to India, we also took a stop at the nearest death destination. There’s just so much death on this show and sometimes I forget because there’s been a ghost in our party for so freakin long it’s been normalized.
(read more death imagery under the cut)
Joey freaks out at a flock of crows and reveals in this episode something I never realized about him before.
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Like I’m not always the perfect observer as I’m sure you’ve noticed, but I love that this is canon for probably only this episode, but I will never forget it for the entirety of this series.
You go on hating birds, Joey.
Bro was like “Maybe it’s a deep cut about Mai Valentine because she’s a harpy lady” but eh...pretty sure we spent like an entire season of Joey telling us that Mai was a good experience? Would be incredibly funny if immediately after all of S4, Joey was like “You know what? Screw Mai, guys.”
So my thoughts...it’s probably just a literal bird experience. Like I had a friend who hated deer because once she went to a petting zoo, got some pellets to feed the deer, but her finger was sticking up, so when the deer came over to nibble on some pellets her finger went up it’s nose by accident. She was so disgusted by this event that was entirely her fault, that she brought up how much she hated deer basically whenever we saw one.
So like...maybe Joey fed a bird wrong at a petting zoo. I can see him getting bit by a parrot because he was too Joey Wheeler.
But now that we’re in a graveyard neighborhood, Pharaoh decides to hop out because there’s a lot of ghosts here and he needs to practice socializing with his peers.
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So that’s just a Yugioh monster doing the ostrich dance, right? Like this is a meme from like 2010 but on Yugioh in 2003(4?)
Good to see the Ostrich dance here in the land before Vine.
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So they pull out their Pokemon to do some antics, Tea looked like she was about to do something useful, and Yami does a yump across time and space to get her as far away from playing (not)cards as quickly as possible and y’all...sure was a position these animators animated.
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Holy crap.
And I was going off about that scene last season where they woke up in the same bed like...
...have these two been together this entire time? Like together together?
They’re like...way more comfortable than you’d figure they’d be considering Yugi nearly passes out every time he gets a hug. But Yami just like....How long has this been going on? As long as Joey’s fear of birds?
Like obviously this show would never cover what the hell Yugi may be thinking about this overreaching move here, because we’re gonna gloss right over that, and just run away up a flight of stairs. No one mentions this ever again. Which is mind blowing for an anime to do. I think in most anime I watch, the kids would be like “ahh ahhhh I bumped into a booooob!” like it does for I want to say every other episode of My Hero Academia. But in Yugioh, they saw that low hanging fruit and they were like “we expect a higher level of maturity out of our audience. Now here’s a fleet of ostrich dancing tree monsters with faces for crotches.”
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They decided to sprint up this flight of stairs, and it enough of a slope to deter the monsters who are only unbalanced weird legs.
I want us to take a moment and admire this background painting. I can’t unsee the rocks that are all the same size, just piled on top of eachother. Did Alexander the Great just plop rocks here--or was the mountain made up of tons of similarly shaped boulders?
Like there’s a lot of nice bg’s in this arc, don’t get me wrong, but this one...I’m just trying to wrap my head around the logic of it.
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At the top, they meet a pantheon, that is immediately blocked by this wall, because if this arc had a tagline, it’s “Yugi gets inconvenienced every 4 seconds.”
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Bro was like “Clearly they would have pushed it over if Tea wasn’t slacking off” and like...she is actually. Look at her. Only used one hand? Slacker.
Joey was disappointed he couldn’t push over a massive wall, and the team decided not to analyze how much Joey Wheeler thinks of his own strength and instead fixate on these statues.
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Usually in anthro characters they kinda look birdlike but act human. But what about an anthro that’s just a bird? Like human torso, but can turn his head 180 degrees? Yugioh made me ask this question.
And then Joey was like “wait, there may be a solution that isn’t just to use brute strength!”
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Youknow it is a bummer that Kaiba couldn’t witness Joey own a dragon while he himself only has a robot jet dragon. Although, the jet is probably faster, stronger and overall...better than this baby dragon. It would have been great for Kaiba to witness Joey under-utilize this dragon and forget he has it for like huge swatches of the episode.
And then Grandpa pulled some body horror out of nowhere.
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Wow.
I mean that is really gross.
I guess Grandpa can’t use Blue eyes, because Kaiba ripped it up, Grandpa can’t use Exodia because Weevil tossed it off a boat, and grandpa can’t use the card that’s just a building because...it’s a building.
So instead Grandpa has a bunch of meat and bones that look like something out of Doom. It’s probably from a more obscure Konami property, but I forget which.
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I’ve seen Tristan hold back Joey in this hold, first time it’s been Tea.
So much shipping in this episode, it’s wild.
It’s also wild how low my standards are for what could possibly be shipping when it comes to Yugioh because of how freakin tepid all of these characters are, which as I’ve brought up before, I really don’t mind.
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So Yugi decides that because Grandpa was folding his arms like one monster and it made a gem light up or something, to just do the video game thing and use the giant ass statues as clues.
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Why was this arc not a video game? Like parts of it really feel like it was meant to be.
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So Yugi falls down a hole, where the walls cave in like it’s that dumpster in Star Wars but like...it barely phases him.
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Also...Yugi might be able to see in the dark. It’s never been brought up but like...the more I think about it...has Yugi ever struggled to see without the lights on?
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After Joey disappoints everyone, he confronts death.
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And Pharaoh and Yugi decide to solve the puzzle of “how do I get out of this trap dungeon room” which, honestly, is probably what they’re doing every time they hang out in the brain pyramid.
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So they summon their mascot monster, and surprisingly the show decided its ability to fly cannot help them out here.
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Kuriboh manages to become enough of a doormat to push Yami up to the stone and they end up in a set of weird cuts that ended in this?
Like seriously it was like flashes of light and then they were just...up here like this.
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Hey like...
Alexander the Great, my man...
Were you planning to put that stone in the middle of a exhaust vent hoping someone would touch it? Because there’s no way anyone would rationally have done that. You would need to fly to do it. This is the world’s worst DM.
Like Yugioh pulls a lot of fantasy nonsense but this arc is a lot more like a “it’s a kid’s show, just go with it.” arc than most of them. It’s not a bad vibe, necessarily, it’s just not the vibe I’m used to.
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So once I witnessed maybe the most boring conversation I’ve ever witnessed about corn (this was on a twitch stream, by the way, a guy was playing an interesting game, and then a guest came on and started talking about corn and plants for 2 hours) and they would not shut up about how all taxonomy is wrong because there are no such thing as trees and how all animals are labelled incorrectly, and then they started comparing it to like all sorts of mushrooms and phytoplankton as you would if you clearly got a little bit high before dumping your corn knowledge on a twitch stream.
Anyway, after that bizarre experience I suffered so I could learn how to play an obscure video game, I think I can safely say, that while I know everyone here thinks a bird can’t be a dog. If you’re a high biologist: a bird is absolutely a dog. Apparently you can just do that if you’re the most boring biologist alive and no one will argue with you because to do that would involve talking to you. We’ll just say a bird is a dog and no one can fight me or I will talk about the corn book that this guest on this twitch chat was thinking about renting from the library about the different types of corn mutations inherent in freakin Indiana. Therefore, Joey’s fear of birds and dogs is same.
So they use Dark Magician to save them from the statues, and Yugi busts into the pantheon again because they got to open this casket before a time limit that I kind of forgot about, tbh.
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And inside the casket, is...this thing!
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(enjoy this line on the bottom of the image I don’t feel like fixing it)
And you may say to yourself...it looks like it’s just floating in mid-air, that’s silly, and so I want to introduce you to the next panel where you can see that it is...quite literally...just floating in the air like a video game.
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and it just slurps itself onto Yugi before he can be like “nonono.”
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Wasn’t there some horror movie where you were stuck in some sort of body brace that slowly tortures you (was that Saw?) This has that vibes. Like man that looks uncomfortable to wear over a jacket and two belts and a collar that is another belt.
That and I...I gotta appreciate that Yugi popped his collar while wearing body armor and chunky necklace. What 00′s fashion appreciation right there.
Bit like...this isn’t breathable, right? Like Yugi’s gonna finally take this thing off and his jacket will just be completely soaked in sweat?
Anyway, that’s it for this post, next week we’ll see if Yugi can walk through a doorway in that thing.
Also, I can’t bring up the ostrich dance without sharing the vines of my generation
youtube
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tbzhours · 4 years ago
Text
stargaze
sunwoo x you, high school au, angst, fluffy ending  
[summary] sunwoo is scared of his feelings for you, crosses the line one day and realizes how much he’s been hurting you [words] 2.5k [a/n] not sure how i feel about this but i hope you like this ♡
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Sometimes, having a crush isn’t so easy.
Sunwoo didn’t know when it started but when he found out you’re in his astronomy class, he couldn’t stop looking at you. You sat in front of him always so whenever you turned around to pass him his paper, he’d always have this weird straight face. It intimidated you but you quickly smiled and turned back to the front.
When it was time for partner discussion, you turned back to him because he didn’t have the effort to tap your shoulder or ask someone else from his side. It never felt like a discussion because you’re the only one talking and he’s just nodding. You wondered what went on in his mind but instead of asking that, you insisted, “What about you? Is pluto really a planet?”
Sunwoo paused, finding words to say except any compliments that would take away from the conversation. He blinked a few times with an “uhhh” then he finally responded, “I think it’s just a rock.”
“What about the characteristics and its orbitational shape? We have a few terrestrial planets. What makes them similar and not?” You asked, trying to see if he could explain more but he scratched his head and slightly pouted.
“I actually don’t know-”
Sunwoo got interrupted when your teacher asked for your attention to give some ideas from your discussions. He was still looking at you when you gave him a small smile. “That’s okay, I can help you later.”
You whispered to him before turning to the front. Sunwoo stared at himself, wondering if he’s just a rock.
After class, Sunwoo somehow ended up walking with you in the hall as you told him about the discussion question from class. You didn’t know if he was listening when you both stopped in front of your lockers, which were next to each other, but you continued talking while he stared at you.
“And that’s some of the reasons why Pluto isn’t a planet anymore.” You looked at him after opening your locker and switching some things out from your bag. “Interesting, huh?”
“Yeah.” Sunwoo smiled then he followed you, opening his locker and setting his stuff away awkwardly. He quickly closed it, the loud sound startling you. He sighed, “I gotta go.”
“Okay.” You smiled like always. “But hey, our end-of-semester exam is coming up so let me know if you want to study together.”
Sunwoo nodded with a hum then he walked away as if he was running away from you. You didn’t think of it much as you closed your locker and headed to your next class.
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All of Sunwoo’s friends were shouting in surprise when he told them about you asking if he wanted to study together. It was a routine after they learned of his crush on you because now, all of them wanted to help him. Sunwoo was lying on his bed and removed the blanket from his face to see their eyes widened at him.
“What?”
Eric walked up to him while holding a chip stick in his hand, shaking it at him. “Don’t you know what that means?”
“It doesn’t mean anything?” Sunwoo’s eyes moved to the side as his voice got quiet. His friends groaned at how stupid he sounded.
“Hey, Sunwoo, you don’t even do anything. Why do you even call that a crush?” Chanhee complained, scoffing by Sunwoo’s wardrobe. He had one of his hats on but he took it off and set it back where he found it.
“Yeah, I’d call that a rock.” Haknyeon joked, remembering every single thing Sunwoo had told them from today.
“Hey!” Sunwoo shouted at him and threw a pillow nearby at him but he caught it and laughed loudly.
Eric shook his head and crossed his arms once he sat down beside Sunwoo. “Seriously, what goes on in your head?”
Sunwoo sulked. He looked down at his feet and sighed, “I don’t know. I just don’t want to hurt them if I said anything wrong.”
“Bro.” Eric started while Chanhee rolled his eyes from where he was standing. Haknyeon noticed and he looked at the two sitting on the bed and listened to Eric continue. “Have you even tried?”
“Tried what?” Sunwoo looked at him. He didn’t hear Chanhee and Haknyeon sighing in disappointment as his eyes desperately filled with wanting to know everything, about how to manage his stupid heartly crush.
“Talking to them!” Eric argued in a strong tone, though his voice wasn’t as loud. With Sunwoo’s puppy eyes, Eric sighed and told him, “If you don’t do anything, then you’re going to end up hurting them.”
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The exam finally came up while Sunwoo rejected your study sessions. You understood him and let him off with your regular smile. When you passed the exam back to him, you whispered good luck.
An hour went by and the last person got up and handed their exam to the teacher. He announced that everyone had turned it in then everyone cheered. He got up and sat at the front of the table in front of the board.
“We still have ten minutes left though.”
Everyone groaned and sighed harshly because they wanted to get out early. Your teacher laughed softly at their reaction then he continued.
“As I was watching how hard everyone was taking their exam, I thought about how our future really stands in your hands and-” He pretended to choke in his tears with a fist pressing his lips. Your class laughed and asked him to stop because he was always like this whenever his classes take exams. The teacher got it back together and finished off class after announcing, “Anyway, remember when I said I might give extra credit points if you go see the stargazing event? Well, I’m allowing it, especially if you want to enhance your grade. You can go solo or in groups. All you need is a picture of you there, alright? Class dismissed.”
You were excited. You usually go see the stars at the weekly stargazing even at the local park with the elderly next door from your house once a month. You told Sunwoo about it, reasoning that you kind of want to go and get your grade up another letter and since your neighbor couldn’t go this month due to their visit at the hospital, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted to come along.
“What do you say? Do you want to go see it? It’s super pretty at night.” You explained, grinning once you both stopped by your lockers.
“I don’t know yet.” He scratched his head. All of a sudden, you handed him a note. He didn’t realize you were scribbling something on there when he was still in his head.
“Here’s my number. Let me know if you want to go before this Saturday.” You flashed a smile before you turned away into your locker.
Sunwoo could hear the rustle from your loose paper of notes that were stuck inside your notebook. He was losing his mind. He really thinks you’re kind, too kind that he couldn’t bring himself to say what he wanted to say. These stupid words were running through his head and wouldn’t come out. His heart was racing then he suddenly called out your name.
You looked at him, eyes slightly large from voice. You slowly closed your locker and set your backpack behind you and waited for him to say something.
“I don’t think I want to go with you. I mean, it sounds fun, really, but I don’t want people to think we’re dating, you know?” He chose the wrong words and laughed a little afterwards. Everything felt so wrong when you weren’t smiling anymore.
“Is that what you think?” You asked, slow yet so soft-spoken. You paused, watching how his eyes panicked. You let out a shivering sigh with your thumb scratching the strap of your bag. “You could have just said you didn’t want to.”
Sunwoo realized a second ago that he didn’t mean what he said. He couldn’t find the words to fix it. “I… I’m-”
“No, it’s…” You interrupted him. You didn’t smile like you used to and before you walked away passing him, you told a little lie. “It’s fine.”
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“Sunwoo, what the hell was that?” Chanhee was furious from across his room after Sunwoo told them what happened.
Haknyeon suddenly passed a Dating 101 book by Sunwoo’s feet. “Here, you’ll need this.”
Eric, who was sitting on the bed beside Sunwoo like before, kicked the book away and shook his stupid friend’s shoulders. “How could this happen? You just lost your chance!”
“I’m doomed!” Sunwoo cried when he got up and held onto Eric’s arms. “I don’t know what to do now!”
Haknyeon looked up at Chanhee and whispered, “He really just did that.”
Chanhee shook his head when he crossed his arms then he saw something falling from Sunwoo’s sweater pocket when he got up to stomp on the floor like a crazy person.
“Hey, what’s that?” Chanhee pointed at the floor.
“Is that (Y/N)’s number?” Eric asked then he slowly turned to Sunwoo, who was still looking at the note with his eyes wide open. “Sunwoo?”
Haknyeon was laughing by himself, surprised at how Sunwoo’s story was turning out. “Wow, you still have a chance.”
“To apologize.” Chanhee finished his sentence. He walked up to Sunwoo and picked up his note. He gazed at the number and smirked at him. “Do you want this to work or not?”
Of course, Sunwoo did. He wanted to make it work this time, especially when you’re always so nice to him. He couldn’t even tell if you liked him like how he liked you; that’s one of the main reasons why he didn’t try to talk to you. The other reason was just because he was scared but he realized being scared hurt you all of this time. He wanted to fix this when he nodded at Chanhee.
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His friends suggested him to call or text you to apologize but Sunwoo didn’t. He was still holding himself back but when he saw that you weren’t in school the day before the stargazing event, he finally texted you.
sunwoo: hey it’s sunwoo! i’m sorry about what i said the other day :( can i still meet you tomorrow at the park? you: sure
When that night came, Sunwoo was texting and sending you pictures of what he’d be wearing from different angles in case you can’t find him later. You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t help to smile because he’s probably thinking you’re still upset or something. You quickly took a picture of your outfit from your mirror but you didn’t send it back to him. Instead, you wrote a text.
you: i’ll give you one of my extra credit points if you find me later :)
Upon arriving at the park, there were already some people there, waiting to see the stars. It was luckily clear out and the sun was setting well over the ends of the sky. You opened a blanket down onto the grass, settling on the spot with other people at least ten feet away. There were many children out and you waved at one when one of them was looking at you.
After a while, you started to take random pictures of the sky and the trees around the park as you stayed sitting. It wasn’t until you turned back to take a picture of the wide dark sky near the parking lot when Sunwoo came into the frame. You set your phone down and saw him blushing his way to you.
“You made it.” You smiled then you patted the empty spot beside you for him to sit.
Sunwoo sat there and hid his hands in the pockets of his jacket, feeling awkward since the last time he saw you. He was ready to tell you his heart when he sighed. You turned to him when he slipped, “You owe me that extra credit point.”
You laughed at how nonchalantly he said. His lips curved slowly on both sides from the sound of your voice then you let him know, “I’ll tell our teacher about it.”
“Thanks.” Sunwoo sighed then he looked up at the darkening sky. “I still have a lot to say.”
“Well?” You tilted your head at him when he met your eyes.
He didn’t know where to start but he hoped that you didn't think he was trying to wing through. “I wanted to apologize for saying about what people would think of us. I think I was just scared of how I was feeling.”
“You're scared of your feelings? Of just being you?” You questioned, wanting to know more. Honestly, he looked really innocent right then because of his sad pout. You smiled a little as he smiled too.
“No, my feelings for you.” Sunwoo chuckled, shaking a hand at you. When he set it down, his eyes got soft. “I like you, I have been. I just didm’t know why I couldn’t show you how I feel about you.”
“I kinda figured.” You shrugged then you leaned back with your hands behind you. You started to look up at the sky, watching how the stars were beginning to show up. Sunwoo was so shook at your side that you could see him from the edge of your eyes.
“You did?” He gasped and leaned forward to see you. “How?”
“You don’t say much and you keep giving me that look.” You answered before getting up. Your face was so close to his that he could feel the rush on his cheeks.
“T-then what do we do?” He stuttered again, eyes falling on the ground for a moment. He peeked back up at you and asked, “Are we dating now?”
You burst into a laugh yet he didn’t join you because he was still feeling bad. You patted him on the shoulder and assured him, “Not yet but we’re heading there.” You crossed your arms, feeling the cool breeze as you continued, “I’m still a little mad about what you did so we can start here.”
Sunwoo took off his jacket, revealing his hoodie from under and he set it over your shoulders while avoiding your eyes. “Are you still mad?”
“Sunwoo, that’s not how it works.”
“How does it work?” He asked innocently still.
You wanted to tell him to follow his heart but you shook your head. “Just hold my hand for now.”
He complied as you smiled at the thought of how funny it would be to forget about taking pictures for the extra credit. You both gazed at the stars soon after. At least this was one way Sunwoo could open his heart to you.
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delimeful · 4 years ago
Text
the shapes in the silence (11)
new chapter at the behest of one of my patrons! hope you enjoy! >:)
warnings: terrible coping mechanisms, antagonistic but not "evil" deceit, semi-vivid panic attack, suicidal implications/thoughts, arguing, an antagonistic and also genuinely evil cliffhanger, take care for realsies
-
After a few days of solitude, Logan emerged from his room with a triumphant gleam in his eyes.
He dropped a comically large stack of paper onto the lounge table, interrupting their bi-monthly binge of Parks and Rec. Patton obligingly paused the television, smiling at the sight of the other Side.
Roman probably would have complained, except Virgil-- as Puff-- had been dozing on top of his head for the past twenty minutes, and one of his wings was draped over Roman’s face like a makeshift blindfold. So, he hadn’t really been watching anyways.  
“I’ve figured it out,” Logan said, gesturing to the meticulous lines of not-so-meticulous handwriting. “The shrinking.”
Everyone seemed to perk up in interest, and Virgil dropped onto Roman’s shoulder, kneading his claws lightly into the sash.
“You know why?” Patton prompted after another moment of Logan preening.
“Yeah, Specs, don’t leave us in suspense!” Roman demanded, valiantly restraining his gesturing for the sake of not accidentally unbalancing Virgil. The two of them had only had to learn that lesson once.
Logan nodded, adjusting his glasses briefly. “My current hypothesis is that our reduced states are the result of a sort of… mental lock. We shrink when the locking mechanism is triggered, and it takes a figurative key to restore our previous, normal stature.”
“A key?” Patton asked. “You figured out how to undo it?”
“Not for everyone. Think of it as customized locks. There’s a different key for each of us, and I’ve only discovered my own.”
Virgil tilted his head curiously at Logan’s words. The first bit was about what he’d figured, but a ‘key’ to change back? He used to think he only changed back in his room, but there had been a couple of occasions where he’d shifted forms unexpectedly. None of the others had had to be in their rooms to change back, either.
Roman was frowning in thought. “Wait, how in the name of Disney did you figure out your key?”
Logan looked delighted at the question. He moved to sit in his usual armchair, and then closed his eyes for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly and his mouth dropping into a frown.
In the next moment, he was doll-sized. “Extensive and rigorous experimentation,” he said, carefully getting to his feet on the plush chair fabric.
Roman and Patton immediately burst into excited chattering, each theorizing or commenting on Logan’s tiny stature, and Virgil quickly abandoned ship before Roman really did gesture him right into the air. He trotted along the back of the couch and kicked off of it, landing on the arm of Logan’s chair.
Logan looked up at him for a moment, before referring to a pile of tinier-than-normal flashcards pulled from his pocket. “Puff. I hope there’s no ‘hard feelings’ about my former hypothesis. It was nothing personal, I can assure you.”
It wasn’t like the theory had been too far fetched. Virgil hopped down to the seat of the chair and brushed against Logan’s side like a large, scaly cat. It seemed to do the job of convincing Logan that they were cool.
Logan looked back over at the other two. “Time to continue the lecture, I believe.”
With that, he clapped his hands together in a familiar pattern, one that had been used in countless classrooms in Thomas’s life. Two normal claps, and then three rapid ones.
Almost immediately, Patton and Roman clapped the returning pattern, paused as though registering what they’d done, and then turned to face Logan.
“Was… Did you just teacher-clap at us?” Roman asked, astounded.
Logan looked incredibly smug at his gambit working so perfectly, and Virgil barely had time to claw his way back up onto the armrest before the logical Side was back to normal.
“My key,” he said, “is being listened to.”
Then, as though he couldn’t resist, he added, “Who’s falling behind now, Roman?”  
Roman spluttered with exaggerated indignance, and Virgil was absolutely certain that Princey was going to spend the next several days rising to the challenge. He shook his wings out, the dragon equivalent of rolling his eyes.
Patton, on the other hand, clapped enthusiastically as though Logan had performed a magic trick. “Wow, way to grow!”
Logan sighed deeply. Patton grinned, and then paused.
“See, the only thing I’m wondering now is, why is this happening to us all of the sudden? It’s certainly not something we’ve had to deal with before.”
There was a terse silence.  
“I’m still working on theories in that regard,” Logan finally responded, mouth pinched slightly. “There have been many periods in the past where certain upheavals in Thomas’s life have led to our surroundings or our very selves changing. It’s entirely possible that this… ‘shrinking’ effect is a similar case. That brings me to my next point: we need to speak with Thomas.”
Virgil noticed Roman grimace for a moment. “Does he really need to know about all… this?”
“We certainly can’t keep it from him!” Patton replied as he walked closer to the rest of them and held out his arm. Virgil scaled it with ease, clambering up to perch on Pat’s shoulder like a parrot. For once, he agreed with Roman. He wasn’t sure this would end well, but... it wasn’t his job to bring up doubts right now. “He’s going to have to learn about it eventually, whether now or whenever he calls us up to talk about whatever is bothering him.”
“Precisely,” Logan agreed. “The more information we gather on this matter, the better.”
“I guess…,” Roman crossed his arms, but conceded. Patton gave him an encouraging hug.
“Plus,” he added as he pulled away, “if we go now, we can have Thomathy meet Puff!”
A beat late, Virgil realized just what that meant, and a flood of panic washed out the peaceful haze in his mind. They couldn’t take him to see Thomas! What if his host recognized him?
… What if he didn’t?
“It’s fine with me,” Logan added. “He does seem to be a rather permanent fixture in the Mindscape, though I’m not sure what that says about Thomas.”
“It says that he’s simply the coolest,” Roman shot back, his spirits seemingly lifted by the idea. He reached over and lifted Virgil off Patton’s shoulders, holding him in the air and spinning in a dizzying circle. “You’ll love Thomas, Puff, just you wait.”  
“Why wait?” Patton chimed in with an excited smile. “I’ll go let the kiddo know we’re coming!”
He sank out, and Logan spent a short moment making sure his tie was properly aligned before following. Roman tilted his head slightly as though listening to an invisible sound before smiling widely. “There’s our cue!”
Before Virgil could do more than feel a sense of impending doom, the world was blurring and shifting around them, and he was dragged up along with Roman.
The dizziness as he entered the real world was so heady that he nearly blacked out, his head spinning. When his vision cleared, he realized he was being held up like an infant Simba.
Right in front of his host’s face. He froze like a deer in the headlights, mind screaming wordlessly.
“Ta-da!” Roman announced. “The newest, cutest denizen of your mind! Aside from me, of course.”  
Thomas leaned in slightly, no trace of disgust or fear on his face. It made him look younger. “Woah. Hey there, little guy. Puff, right?”
He held his hand out carefully, and almost magnetically, Virgil placed a tiny, clawed hand on it. An encouraging smile was all it took, and then he was abandoning all caution and climbing right into the arms of the one who was supposed to fear him the most.
Thomas just shifted obligingly to create a better platform, and ran a thumb over his spine scales. Virgil craned his head up to look, and saw only quiet astonishment and awe on his host’s face.
There was no question. He didn’t recognize him.
Virgil had no idea what the emotion in the pit of his stomach was-- an amalgam of relief, disappointment, terror, sadness, so dense it was physically painful-- but after a moment, he let himself go lax. He could deal with it later. He could deal with everything later.
For now, his host was holding him close like he was something treasured, something precious. It was more than he’d ever hoped for and all he could ever need.
Whenever Thomas spoke, he could feel the words vibrating in his host’s chest. It was almost like a hug. He stayed there, content to listen only vaguely as the others explained what was going on and tried to work out the reason why.
After a while of circular discussion, Thomas went a little tense, catching Virgil’s attention. He hesitated for a moment before speaking.
“We’re trying to figure out what’s going wrong to cause this… inner turmoil, right? Why don’t we get Anxiety in on this? If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s coming up with worst-case scenarios.”
Virgil went still and frozen, and Roman’s gaze darted down to him for a moment before his expression firmed into a frown. “Absolutely not. That villain won’t have anything helpful to contribute.”
“On the contrary, I believe Thomas has a point. Anxiety could have a side to this story that we haven’t heard yet, but if we were just to ask him,” Logan countered, “he may share.”
“Kind of strange that he hasn’t popped up already,” Patton added with a concerned frown. “The kiddo doesn’t generally like it when people talk about him without him there.”
“Let’s at least give it a shot,” Thomas decided, lifting a hand. “Anxiety!”
No, no no no. This wasn’t how he wanted it to go. Virgil braced for the irresistible tug on his core, the breaking apart of his fragile peace--
It didn’t come.
There was no pull. Why wasn’t he feeling the pull? He couldn’t detect even the slightest call, which was impossible, unless--
Perfectly on cue, a dark figure appeared from thin air on the staircase, jumpscaring Thomas and offering a mocking smirk.
“You called?”
It… was him. It was Anxiety, dark hoodie and darker eyeliner, sneer and all. Virgil felt the strangest disconnect from his own identity for a moment before things snapped back into place. No summons, his own desire for secrecy, a perfect doppelganger.
Deceit.
A low, rumbling growl started up in his chest, and his hackles rose instantly at the sight of that liar daring to wear his face.
Thomas’s hands jerked away in surprise, and Patton reached over to soothe him. “Easy, Puff. He won’t do anything to you, promise.”
“That’s right,” Roman agreed in a completely different tone, stepping forwards to put himself between the fake Anxiety and the others, as though Virgil was pathetic enough to be worried about himself and not whatever bullshit Deceit-As-Anxiety was about to feed the others. His growl lowered in volume, but refused to taper off.
“Like I care about your newest pet project,” Fake-Anxiety said, rolling his eyes in disdain. “I’m just here to do what I do best: tell you how you messed up.”
Logan frowned at him. “You believe our current situation is the result of Thomas erring in some way?”
“Not just some way. All the ways. It’s obvious, isn’t it?” Fake-Anxiety said, gesturing widely to Thomas with one hand. “Something’s wrong with you. You’re broken.”
“That’s not true,” Patton said firmly, frowning in disapproval. “Anxiety, I expected better from you.”
Virgil felt his throat close up, even though he wasn’t really the one Patton was speaking to. It wasn’t like Patton knew that. How was he ever going to look anyone in the eye after this?
“Wait, what? How am I broken?” Thomas asked, not as indignantly as Virgil would have preferred. He gently butted his head against Thomas’s arm for morale-boosting purposes.
“I mean, think about it,” Fake-Anxiety said, spreading his palms open in a faux innocent gesture. “How many times have you screwed up in the past couple of weeks? Speaking with family, hanging out with friends, even just basic customer service interactions. Those were all your fault, and you know it.”
Thomas’s hands shook slightly. “I…”
“Falsehood,” Logan cut in sharply, his expression severe. “A person cannot be ‘broken’, particularly not for simple mistakes. In any case, there is no meaningful connection to be drawn between your baseless accusation and our current conundrum.”
Before Fake-Anxiety could respond, Patton’s hands flew to his mouth. “Wait. Kiddo, you don’t really think that about yourself, do you?”
All eyes turned to Thomas, who hesitated just a beat too long. “No… I mean, not entirely. Not all the time.”
“Thomas…” Roman looked stricken. “There’s no reason to feel bad about yourself!”
“Emotions… are often without reason,” Logan said, sharing a look with Patton. “This is important information, though. It’s entirely possible that a negative sense of self could affect us, as aspects of yourself. This could be the cause.”
“Then… How do I fix it?” Thomas asked, voice strained.
“You can’t,” Fake-Anxiety said, inspecting his nail polish as though bored. “You’re going to be stuck like this forever.”
“The first step,” Logan said, with a complicated glance towards the figure on the stairs, “is not letting negative thoughts control you. I was hoping Anxiety would be able to shed a light on our discussion, but it’s become clear that he’s… not in a helping mood.”
Fake-Anxiety clicked his tongue. “I’m helping. Helping you not make an even bigger embarrassment out of yourself.”
“Don’t listen to that villain,” Roman told Thomas, glancing down at ‘Puff’. “You have the power to send him away, Thomas.”
“Don’t bother. I’ve said my piece, and you know I’m right.” Fake-Anxiety gave a mocking salute before sinking out, making brief eye contact with Virgil as he did.
“He’s not right… right?” Thomas asked, his face a little pale. “I mean, it’s Anxiety.”
In his arms, Virgil tucked his limbs in tighter against himself.
“You are not broken,” Logan reiterated calmly. “Take a few deep breaths.”
“You do feel bad, though,” Patton said, a hand pressed over his heart in sympathy. “Kiddo... why don’t you take today for yourself?”
“That’s right!” Roman gripped Thomas’s shoulder comfortingly. “Do something that you’ll enjoy, and you can worry about everything else tomorrow, okay? We’ll sort things out on our end.”  
They spoke for a little longer, making new plans and cancelling old ones, and Virgil felt as though his mind was full of static. Eventually, finally, he was back on Roman’s shoulder, ready to sink out.
“Nice meeting you, Puff,” Thomas waved, and something in Virgil’s chest twisted painfully at it all. He chirp-crooned back, and it felt like a goodbye.
-
Luckily for him, the others were all preoccupied with their own thoughts and plans. It took almost no effort to slip away, and before he knew it he was back in his own room, in the form that everyone hated.
His summon was nonverbal and insistent, and before long, Deceit appeared before him, this time in his own skin. Virgil wanted to yell, to rage and vent the emotions inside of him.
“How could you?” Instead, his voice came out quiet. Cold. Betrayed.
Deceit shifted, a flash of discomfort crossing his face before he composed himself. “They needed a villain. Last I checked, it was you who cast yourself in that role.”
A villain. He felt himself shaking, distantly. “You used me. Like an object.”
“To help Thomas--”
“To frighten him into doing what you wanted!” Virgil said, voice finally rising. “To guide the others like puppets on strings and to make me take the fall for your plan!”
“This is for you, too!” Deceit finally snapped back, before taking a deep breath. “This isn’t a framing, Virgil. It’s an opportunity. They won’t look for you, and that gives me enough time to fix things. Come home.”
Virgil laughed, once, harsh like broken glass. “No.”
Deceit held up a hand, sweeping it downwards and shifting himself into Fake-Anxiety again. It was like looking in a mirror, but the reflection was… different, this time. It wasn’t the one that had sat on the stairs before.
“Look at yourself, Virgil. Look at what you’ve been doing to yourself.”
The bags under his eyes were dark and sallow. He was shaking and sweating, his breath coming in stuttering gasps. His body looked like it’d been having consecutive panic attacks for days on end, and there were plenty more coming.
“You don’t have to do this anymore. We both know that you’d have an easier time if Thomas wasn’t always fighting against you.”
He tore his eyes away from the reflection. If he thought about it for too long, he’d spiral, and then all of it-- every comment, every look, everything he’d been tucking away for the past weeks-- would come rushing up to meet him. Like hitting water from a hundred feet up and finding it felt like concrete. Like drowning.
“Virgil?”
He was tired of this. “Get out.”
Deceit said something else, but it was his room, and it followed his will. The other Side was evicted, shoved out, gone. He took a breath, but it felt too shallow and caught in his lungs.
He wasn’t going to get anything done in this form. He wasn’t of any damn use in this form. Nobody wanted him like this. Why not ease his grip, let go?
He wouldn’t have to be Anxiety and everything that came with it. It would be selfish, but-- but Puff was better for everyone, not just him. It made sense.
He sighed in relief as the transformation washed away the vice grip around his lungs and the dizzying pounding of his head. The feelings were muffled, as though he’d put on thick, good quality headphones. It was nice.
It was also harder to focus in this form, unfortunately, but the idea-- the solution remained helpfully stuck in his head. He easily found his way into Roman’s room to collect what he needed, but Roman himself was absent.
He padded down to the commons, and found all three of them were there. Their discussion came to a halt as he carefully jumped up on the couch, dropping his prize into Roman’s lap.
“Oh, Puff…” Roman seemed sad, so he kneaded the creative Side’s leg with the dull edge of his claws.
“What is that?” Patton asked curiously.
Roman shifted, as though anticipating a scolding. “It’s a charmed bracelet. I designed it to keep Anxiety away from Puff. And you know what? I was right to make it! You saw how he acted today!”
Patton bit his lip but remained quiet. Something about the silence hurt, but that was okay. It wouldn’t hurt for long. He nudged the bracelet slightly, impatient.
“Why hasn’t he been wearing it, then?” Logan asked, a curious bend to his eyebrows.
“He… Well, he didn’t want it at first. Put it on yours truly instead,” Roman replied, carefully brushing a hand over Virgil’s head. “I suppose he changed his mind.”
“Did Anxiety really scare him that badly?” Patton asked, voice heartbroken.
Roman frowned determinedly and finally started undoing the clasp. “Whatever that scoundrel did, he won’t be able to bother Puff anymore. This will make sure of it.”
He carefully wound the bracelet around Virgil’s neck, gently adjusted it until it fit right, and reconnected the ends. The last thing Virgil saw before the world went hazy was the three of them, the best parts of Thomas, looking back at him without any fear or hatred.
Then, there was only Puff.
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mediocre-writerr · 4 years ago
Text
the nights [leah rilke]
leah rilke x reader
part 2 of 3:00
requested by anon: omg can we please get a second part of 3:00 where the girls come up with an escape plan and when leah goes to her room and she’s not there. she finds her hooked up to sedatives and did get sick like she was scared she would LETS CONTINUE THIS ANGST TRAIN
warning: mentions of overdose and ptsd
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*not my gif*
“Isolation isn’t that bad,” you remember telling yourself that every time back before the island.
For example, whenever you said no to a party and they’d tease you about you would just say: “Isolation isn’t that bad,”
Turns out it is.
You don’t know what happened, but your PTSD got worse. The amount of times Dr. Fader was sending nurses in to sedate you was becoming more time than you could remember.
But as they kept coming in the less it started working and the more doses they started giving you.
You don’t remember what happened, but the entire day you were feeling a little uneasy. You had a bunch of dizziness, difficulty breathing, and felt cold the entire day. So you tried your best to fall asleep and for the first time ever you fell asleep peacefully. Little did you know, that your life was on the line.
The facility hallways were dark at night. After taking a page from Leah’s book the girls all snuck in napkins and shoved them in their doors. Everyone except for you, who apparently missed the memo because the girls were now on their way to grab you and get out of the shit hole.
Leah remembered putting the napkin there to allow you to walk in and out freely. But with your state of mind it was a lot harder for you to remember simple things.
She pushed open the door to see your room empty, even checking the bathroom to make sure you weren’t in there, but came up empty.
“Where is she?” Fatin whispered.
Leah shrugged, “I don’t know, but I don’t have a good feeling about this,”
“You never have a good feeling about anything,” Rachel pointed out and Dot smacked her arm, “What? I’m not lying,”
“We don’t have much time Leah, we got to find her if we want to get out of here,” Dot mentioned.
And for some reason the blue eyed paranoid brunette just knew. The aching feeling in her stomach just seemed to be proving her point.
She left her room in a quick dash leaving the other girls far behind, “Leah, wait,” Shelby whisper-yelled as the girls followed suit.
The brunette was already far ahead, walking as quickly as possible to the medical center. She peeked her head around the corner and made sure that there was no one there. Before entering the examination room.
And there you were. A IV hooked up to your arm and a ventilator covering your beautiful face. Leah let out a shaky breath rushing over to your side immediately, her face filled with tears.
She let out a small cry when she noticed a tube in your esophagus and a small machine sucking stuff up out and into this small bag.
“Baby, what happened?” she whispered, brushing the hair away from your face as she watched your sleeping face.
There was no way she could leave the facility now, not with you in this condition.
“Leah! How could you leave us-“ Toni was about to scold her when her eyes landed on your condition. The blue eyed girl turned towards her friends with tears pouring down her face.
“What the hell happened?” Fatin questioned.
Leah let out another muffled sob, “I knew. I knew she was struggling and I just wanted to be with her and stay with her, but they took her away. I knew she was going to be sick. I should’ve been with her, I should’ve,” she whispered over and over again.
Shelby rushed to her side, pulling her close and holding her. The two grew close ever since the incident where the blonde decided to cut her hair and have a small breakdown.
Dot just stood there in shock, horrid flashbacks started filling her mind from when her dad was sick. But she snapped it out of it as quickly as she could rubbing at her eyes.
She scanned the room for some type of chart and found one right by the door. As she skimmed over the chart she realized her mouth opened agape. All of the girls were sitting around your bedside or trying to console a now sobbing Leah.
“What happened Dot?” Leah asked, noticing the somber look on her face.
She didn’t quite know how to say it, but she tried her best, clearing her throat, “Y/N’s in a coma right now,” and that’s all it took for Leah to sob even louder, despite the crack in her voice Dot continued, “She was given too many shots of sedative liquids to the point where the higher does caused her to overdose,”
“They’ve been sedating her?” Rachel asked, “Like we’re in some fucked up asylum. Have they done it to anyone else?”
Most of the girls shook their head, but Leah nodded. It only happened to her twice, but never as more times as you experienced it.
“Agent Young found her unconscious in bed,” Dot whispered.
“I should’ve been there with her,” Leah mumbled.
Shelby wrapped her arms around the girl, “You couldn’t have known,”
“But I did. One night Agent Young got me out of my room to help her because her PTSD caused a panic attack. I knew she was gonna get sick and Dr. Fader came in and took me away. He wouldn’t let me stay with her and the next thing I know she’s in a fucking coma!” she explained.
“We can’t leave now guys,” Toni brought up, “Not with the state that she’s in. I don’t know about you guys, but we have lost way too many people to lose her too,”
“She needs us,” Fatin whispered.
There was a clearing of throat by the door. Everyone’s head snapped to the side. There Dr. Fader was, disappointed again at the sight of all of them out of their room.
“Why are you guys here? How did you even get out?” he asked, but none of the girls were going to answer, “All of you need to leave right now!”
“What are you gonna do, huh? Sedate us to the point of overdose like you did Y/N!” Toni screamed.
“See now that’s not fair, Y/N was struggling with some major anxiety and PTSD, she needed something to help keep her calm,” he explained.
Dot scoffed, “You’re a doctor, right?” he only nodded, “Then you should know that sedatives are highly addictive and your body gets used to them the more you use. You practically set her up for this!”
“I should’ve been there with her,” Leah finally mumbled, yet again, “I should’ve fucking been there with her!!”
Everyone seemed to shrink at the sound of her screams, “My girlfriend is on the brink of death because you wouldn’t let me stay with her. She didn’t need sedatives she needed me, she needed us!”
The girl collapsed back into the chair that she was once sitting in, lying her head on the edge of the bed. She grabbed your hand and intertwined your fingers together, your skin was cold against her warm ones. She squeezed your hand tightly.
“Love, please, I’m sorry. I should’ve been there, I should’ve been there,” Leah kept mumbling to you.
“There’s no harm in this,” Shelby tried to explain, “We just want to be here to support our friend and make sure she’s okay,”
“I’m sorry I can’t do that,” he snapped his fingers like an ominous villain in one of those classic movies.
There were five nurses with needles in their hands and bigger agents with them. Agent Young was nowhere to be seen. The agents wrapped their arms around each girl.
“Hey get your hands off of me!” Fatin screamed as the liquid was being shot through her.
Toni and Dot were putting up a fight even elbowing the agents in the face, but at the end of the day it was no use, “Fuck you!” Toni yelled before going limp along with Dot.
Every girl seemed to be out for the count when arms wrapped Leah to steady her. She flailed in their arms, “No let me go! Please! Just let me stay with her! Fuck!”
No one was listening to her though. She placed a small kiss against your cheek, trying her best to push off the inevitable doom.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve been there,” was all she could get out.
Isolation isn’t that bad.
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deancasgreenblue · 3 years ago
Text
Suptober 05: Nostalgia
Title: Ten Years Later
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Words: 2758
AO3 Link.
When Dean saw Castiel again, it all came back to him. Like a movie reel playing in his mind. God, how long had it been? Ten years? They’d been eighteen the last time they’d talked. Suddenly, all Dean could think about was those long Kansas summers on the bed of Castiel’s pickup truck, stargazing. The many meals they shared together at Judy’s diner. And the one time they’d kissed, the night before Castiel moved away to New York for college.
The kiss had been a surprise to Dean, but a good one. A great one. They’d been friends since they were kids, and Dean would be lying if he said he hadn’t harbored feelings for Castiel. But he didn’t think they’d ever cross that line, no matter how much Dean wanted to. It was Castiel who had snuck into Dean’s bedroom window at midnight, wanting to say goodbye before his morning flight.
Dean hated goodbyes. He’d been hoping they could skip theirs. But Castiel was stubborn, and he refused to leave without a proper one. So, he’d showed up, and they’d sat on Dean’s bed for a while, just talking about their hopes for the future. Castiel wanted to be a prosecutor. He had big dreams. Dean? He wanted to teach high school. English, because he loved Vonnegut. But Dean wasn’t going to move away from home. He was staying put. He’d realized that this was probably the last time he’d ever see Castiel. They’d promised they’d stay in touch, but Dean knew how these things worked. People lost touch eventually. And that was exactly what happened with them.
At first, they’d kept in touch during college. Their calls decreased after the first two years, and by the fourth year, Dean only got an email to congratulate him on graduating, and Dean replied to congratulate Castiel in return. When Dean got a job at Lawrence High School, Castiel was just a nice memory from his past. Dean thought about Castiel often, even though they’d lost touch. Castiel had been important to him, but the long-distance ruined their friendship, and whatever could have been between them.
Dean had gone on to date many women and men, and he assumed Castiel had done the same. His life was good in Kansas. Quiet, and sometimes lonely, but good. Seeing Castiel at Judy’s diner now, though, made Dean feel like something was definitely missing in his life. Maybe it was his old friend.
Castiel hadn’t seen Dean yet. He was sitting at a booth by the window, alone. Dean was sitting a few booths over. From here, he could see the back of Castiel’s head. His hair was dark and messy, like always. But he was older now. He had a five o’clock shadow that made him look scruffy. It suited him. Dean wondered if he should go up to him, start up a conversation, see if Castiel still remembered him. How long had it been since they last spoke? Four, five years? Yeah, it had been about that long. Dean still remembered that final email, the one he never replied to.
Hello, Dean,
It’s good to hear you’re still teaching. I’ve been doing well at work myself. I made partner. You should come up to New York and visit me one of these days. I miss you.
Castiel.
Dean hadn’t thought the offer was serious. And even if it was, Dean didn’t want to disrupt Castiel’s life in New York. He assumed he was dating someone, since Dean had been dating Lisa at the time. Besides, Dean wouldn’t get on a plane even if someone paid him to. He had considered taking a road trip in his trusty Impala, but he never dared to do it. Too much time had passed, anyway.
A few minutes went by, and Dean had done nothing but reminisce about the past from his seat, memorizing the back of Castiel’s head. He sipped his sweet tea and then brushed his lower lip with the tip of his thumb. Castiel hadn’t been his first kiss, but he had been the first kiss he most remembered. Sparks flew the moment their lips touched. They’d kissed on Dean’s bed for what felt like a small eternity, and then Castiel smiled and whispered goodbye before he slipped out of his bedroom window.
Dean knew that if he went up to Castiel that night, he’d give up that perfect goodbye as his last face-to-face memory with his friend. But curiosity was killing him. He wanted to know what Castiel was doing back in town all these years later. He wanted to know if he’d even thought about paying Dean a visit while he was here.
So, with a final sip of his tea, Dean worked up the courage to get up, and approach Castiel at his booth. Dean couldn’t believe how sweaty his hands were. Hell, he was so nervous he could barely get any words out.
Dean cleared his throat. “You’re back.”
Castiel, who had been looking out the window, immediately turned to look at him. His eyes were just as piercing and blue as Dean remembered. The grin that he gave Dean lit up the entire room. “Oh my God, Dean.” He was out of his seat in no time, pulling Dean into his arms, squeezing him tight.
Dean hugged Castiel back, ruffling his hair before he pulled away. “You mind if I join you?”
“Not at all. Have a seat. Are you hungry? I just ordered a burger. I’ve never been able to find a burger just as good in all my time away.”
“I’ll eat with you. I got here a few minutes before you did.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck before slipping into the seat across from Castiel. “I noticed you come in, but you didn’t see me.”
Castiel shook his head, still grinning. “No, I was starving. I didn’t pay much attention to anything other than the menu.” He chuckled. “I can’t believe you’re here. I just arrived in town. If I wasn’t so hungry, I would have stopped to visit you first.”
“You don’t know where I live, do you?”
Castiel blushed, looking down slightly before his gaze met Dean’s again. “I reached out to Sam before my flight here and asked for your address. I wanted to surprise you.”
Dean couldn’t believe that. So, Castiel did still remember him enough to want to visit him. “You did? Well, consider me surprised, Cas. I didn’t expect to see you here of all places. Not after all these years.”
Castiel leaned forward. “Well, since you never visited me, I figured I should visit you.”
Dean felt suddenly guilty for having ignored Castiel’s last email. Maybe he had been serious about Dean visiting him. Maybe Dean should have taken that road trip after all. “Well, you’re here now. Tell me, what’s new with you? What have you been up to all these years?”
Castiel hesitated. “I…I got married.”
Dean’s stomach sunk at the news, but he kept his smile in place. “When?”
“A few years ago. Her name is Daphne.”
Dean nodded, knowing his smile must look as fake as it was. “Where is she?”
“She’s in New York.” Castiel sighed. “We’re getting divorced.”
“Oh.” Dean didn’t realize how much the news had hit him until he could finally breathe again. “I’m sorry.”
Castiel waved a hand. “Don’t be. That marriage was doomed from the start.” He chuckled. “We actually got married in Vegas when I was there on a work trip. We’d been dating for a few months, and I had invited her along. One thing led to another, we got drunk, and I proposed to her. It was so stupid. I’m surprised we stayed married this long. But now that that chapter of my life is over, I felt I needed a change of scenery.”
“And now you’re here.”
Castiel nodded. “And now I’m here.” His eyes skimmed Dean up and down. “I have to say, you look really good, Dean. What’s new with you? I haven’t heard from you in so long.”
“I know. Sorry about that. I guess I’m the one who stopped answering emails.”
“Yeah, you were,” Castiel said, and Dean didn’t miss the bitterness in his voice.
At that time, Castiel’s burger arrived, and Dean placed his order, even though he wasn’t really hungry anymore.
“I’ll wait for you to eat,” Castiel said.
“But you’re hungry. Go ahead. I don’t mind.”
“You sure?”
Dean chuckled. “I’m sure. Have at it.”
Castiel took a bite of his burger, licking his lips afterwards. Dean didn’t miss the action. “What about you, Dean? Are you seeing anybody?”
Dean sighed. “No, I’m very single at the moment.”
Castiel wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Good to know.”
“Is it?” Was Castiel still interested in Dean? The thought made Dean’s heart thump harder than ever before.
“Yes, it’s good to know more about you. I want to catch up. Tell me everything.”
So, Dean told Castiel about his life. He talked in length about how much he loved his job, and the road trips he’d been on, and the new friends he’d made. Castiel listened intently, only interrupting when he wanted more information. Dean even told Castiel about some of the more serious relationships he’d been in, and it wasn’t awkward at all.
“Anyway, I’ve rambled on way too long now,” Dean said. “You didn’t get to say much.”
Castiel smiled. “I like listening to you speak.”
Dean shifted on his seat. “What are you doing after this? We could go out for beers, if you have time.”
Castiel sipped his drink. “I don’t have anything going on. I’m all yours.”
Well, Dean liked the sound of that.
After paying for the tab—Castiel’s treat—they went to the Roadhouse for beers. They were immediately greeted by Ellen, who hugged Castiel and offered him a free beer.
“Why don’t I get a free beer?” Dean asked. “I thought you liked me, Ellen.”
“’Cause you haven’t disappeared for ten years,” Ellen said. “When you do, come claim your free beer.”
“Thank you, Ellen,” Castiel said, taking his beer.
Dean rolled his eyes, pulling Castiel to an empty table. “You’re back for one day and you’re already everyone’s favorite.”
Castiel laughed. “Hey, don’t be jealous just because I’m charming.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Hey, remember that time when we stole your dad’s six pack and drank it in my basement?”
Castiel widened his eyes. “Of course I remember. That was both of our first drink.”
Dean nodded, smiling down at his beer. “Yeah, it was. We got a tipsy with those beers.”
Castiel chuckled. “We really couldn’t hold our liquor back then.”
“Those were the days.”
“They were amazing days.” Castiel placed a hand to Dean’s back, sliding it down to the small of his back. It sent a shiver down Dean’s spine. “Do you remember that night we said goodbye, Dean? A million years ago?”
Dean sipped his beer. “How could I forget?”
Castiel leaned closer, his hand never moving. “Did you ever wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t left?”
Dean shrugged. “I’ve wondered all the time, but you did leave, and we can’t change what happened.”
Castiel took another sip of his beer before leaning to whisper in Dean’s ear, “Do you ever think about that kiss?”
Dean looked up at Castiel, meeting his blue gaze. It was warm and inviting. Dean’s heart was racing. “Yeah, Cas, I do.”
“Me too. All the damned time.” Castiel licked his lips. “I always wondered if you still thought about me, as much as I thought about you.” He frowned. “Because, Dean, your silence was loud. I thought you’d simply forgotten me.”
“No, Cas, I didn’t forget you. I could never forget you. I just didn’t think you really wanted me to disrupt your life in New York.”
“Dean, you could never have disrupted my life. I wanted you there, with me. I wanted to see you again.”
Dean furrowed his eyebrows. “You did?”
“Of course I did. I just—I missed you. I can’t believe we didn’t see each other for ten years, Dean. But seeing you again, it’s brought everything back. All the memories, all the…all the feelings.”
Dean swallowed. “Really?”
“Yes,” Castiel breathed. He moved his hand up to Dean’s shoulder. “Tell me, Dean, am I alone in this? Or do you feel the same way too?”
Dean could barely hear Castiel through the pounding in his head from how loud his heart was beating. “I feel the same way too.”
Castiel beamed. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Dean said. “Do you want to come back to my place? I’d really like to be alone with you right now.”
“I’d like that too.”
“Then let’s go.”
Castiel downed the rest of his beer, and so did Dean, more for the courage than for anything else. And then Dean drove them back to his place in his Impala. It was a quiet, uneventful drive, except for when Castiel reached over and put a hand on Dean’s thigh and left it there the whole ride. Dean turned to glance at him, giving him a smile.
“I can’t believe this is happening,” Dean said. “You. Me. After all these years.”
“No one ever measured up to you, Dean. Not once.”
What was Dean supposed to say to that? “I think I love you.”
Castiel didn’t miss a beat. “I love you too, Dean.”
Dean hit his steering wheel. “God, we wasted so much time.”
“We did, but I’m ready to make up for it now.”
Dean pulled into his driveway and unbuckled his seatbelt, but he didn’t get out of the car. “Before we do this, Cas, we should discuss logistics.”
“What do you mean?”
“You still live in New York, and I still live here. If we do this, if we start something up, we’ll still have the long-distance issue. We didn’t survive it before. What makes you think we’ll survive it this time?”
Castiel squeezed Dean’s thigh. “I’ll move. This city could use a prosecutor, I’m sure.”
Dean widened his eyes. “Are you serious?”
“I’m serious, Dean. I’ve lived in New York for so long, and I’ve been happy, but there was always something missing. You. It was you. I’m willing to give up everything for you.”
“What if you resent me down the road?”
“How could I? This is my decision, not yours. I chose to come back. I chose to make a move on you. I chose to move here. I chose you. In every way possible.”
“You really know how make me weak in the knees, man.”
Castiel chuckled. “Can we go inside now?”
“Yeah.”
They walked into Dean’s house, and just as Dean was about to show Castiel around, he found himself shoved against his door, hands intertwined with Castiel, who was holding them above Dean’s head.
“I’ve waited to kiss you for ten years,” Castiel whispered, nose brushing Dean’s.
“Me too,” Dean whispered back. “So you better hurry up and do it.”
Castiel smirked before closing the gap between them. The first kiss was chaste, similar to their first kiss a decade ago. But then it picked up speed, urgency, with open mouths and biting teeth. They kissed like they had just discovered how good kissing felt. As soon as Castiel let go of Dean’s hands, Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s neck, drawing him closer. Meanwhile, Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean’s waist, his hands on the small of his back again.
“I remember you so well,” Castiel said against Dean’s lips. “You’re carved in my memory.”
“I’m glad you didn’t forget me.”
Castiel kissed him again, softer this time, but just as passionately. “How could I when you kiss like this?”
“I’m so glad you came back, Cas. And I’m sorry I never went to visit you. If I had known how you felt, I would have done more to stay in touch.”
“How could you not know how I feel about you? As a teenager, all I did was follow you around like a lost puppy. I’m the one who kissed you the first time. I wasn’t going to leave without you knowing how I felt. And I thought you knew.”
“I didn’t know,” Dean said. “I thought the kiss was just a goodbye kiss. I didn’t think it meant that much to you.”
“It meant the world to me, Dean. You mean the world to me.”
Dean kissed his forehead. “Now I know.”
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