#i only reached grade A in the previous two stages

[cumscrotesailboat]

the sustain buff in this game is crazy wtf

[in-halingstardust]

hi love! i saw your hsr matchup event is live and i'd like to send my request~ pronouns: she/her/they/them gender: female spice tolerance: spicy personality indicators: intj 5w4 ; melancholic-choleric signs: pisces sun / taurus rising / taurus moon hogwarts house: ravenclaw alignment: neutral good alignment preferred gender to be matched with: male

personality: studious, business-minded, tech-savvy, a little bit of a perfectionist, tends to overwork, stubbornly independent, calm and composed, intimidating at first glance (according to colleagues), reserved and extremely introverted, protective to loved ones, obedient and respectful to authorities but will not hesitate to call them out if necessary, blunt, idealistic, highly organised, loves to play video games or read and write books on spare time, passionate, drawn to mysterious, historical, gothic, and horror subjects

hobbies + likes: researching abandoned and haunted places, writing, reading, exams, stationery, business-related topics (esp finance), coffee shops, bookstores and libraries, electronic shops, technology, video games, dark royalty / dark academia aesthetic, classical literature, classical music, detective/crime/mystery/horror stories (esp. from 19th century), cats, history, listening and belting out to musicals when alone, greek mythology

dislikes: bugs, studying repetitive subjects without gaining new knowledge, failure to meet own expectations, unnecessary change

physical description (in case you need it): dark brown hair that reaches the middle of the thighs, brown almond eyes, warm ivory skin tone, top hourglass figure, wears glasses and switches them out with purple contacts sometimes, always wears a necklace and a pair on rings on both hands

if you need anything else, feel free to ask! thanks!

First of all, I want to say I absolutely love your works with the TWST fandom! I have read through so many of them on my "main" (well more like my dead) blog. This is a little longer, but more of a thank you for me for your stories :,D

I'm going to pick Dr. Ratio for you! ⋆⭒˚.˚.⋆⭒˚.⭒˚.⋆

You and Dr. Ratio I feel have similar interests. Like-minded individuals striving to know more about this dysfunctional world. High expectations, a sort of strive for the greater knowledge of the world. There are only a few who can stand on the same stage as you two.

It's almost a sort of rivalry. A small smirk that is passed with one grade is higher than the other, the glances while the other is presenting, the small inside jokes that are layered between sarcasm and logicality. If any one of your classmates were to explain this they would simply say genius' brains are on a different universe. It's not because of that.

Lets be honest. It's because of the sex,

❥ For the serious front that you both pertain in front of your colleagues, your neck itches from the tight blouse buttoned up to your neck. What’s wrong? Ratio states, it’s a question he already knows the answer to. Don’t want to show off my handiwork? Underneath thin cotton you hide a line of bite marks from the previous night, littered across your body in an arrangement of shapes. ❥ He gets this way when he is in a good mood. ❥ You give him a little push, enough to calm the faint tint across your cheeks. It’s hard not to think about last night. Reminiscent of strong muscles holding you down by the hips- bruises still forming-, his hands wrapped around your hair pulling gently to gain more access to your neck. The way you cried out for him last night and his muffled groans against your skin… ❥ No. You breathe in and out. It’s just a distraction from the presentation. Besides, if you both passed there would be a reward afterwards…Not that you have ever failed.

[chacolatepocky]

Drama club mishap

Story: Costume mishap at the nrc drama club

Characters: Ace trappola, Deuce spade, Jack howl, Epel felmier, Jack howl, Lilia vanrouge, Irene, Seulgi, Wendy, Joy & Yeri

CW: None probably unless you're scared of kpop girl group red velvet, OOC probably

A/n: I submitted this fic for a grade and it got a 98💀💀💀💀💀💀

The group of friends were sitting in a circle in the courtyard, limbs stretched out on the plush grass as they nervously waited for an email stating their costumes for the annual school play had come in, hoping they would fit correctly. Epel left out a huff, followed by the sound of his thick southern accent, "You know, I thought they said that we would get the costumes around three, It's already four now. "

"Just be patient, Epel. I'm sure they'll be sent out soon. " Jack said in a low tone of voice, trying to make his lavender headed friend didn't do anything too brash this time to avoid embarrassment, he definitely didn't want a rerun of what happened the previous year.

"Why do you even care anyway? Don't tell me you actually enjoy doing this. " Ace asked mockingly, not taking his attention from tapping away on his phone. "No I don't enjoy it, I just don't want to have another one of Vil's lectures because my costumes haven't come in yet. " Epel grumbled.

"Touche, " Ace said before opening his mouth again "Oh yeah, Sebek, bro, why are you here too? I thought you had a job to protect Malleus or somethin'? " The ginger questioned him, eyebrow slightly raised. "Well yes I do have a very important job of being a retainer to the great Malleus! But it just so happens that Master Lilia enjoys these plays and wanted me to participate this year. I tried to reason against it but he insisted obstinately. " Sebek sighed, threading a hand through his mint green hair.

A loud ping then rings out from a phone, another member of the group wakes up from his nap rather startled "Huh? Where am I? " He questions, Navy blue hair stuck slightly to his forehead from accumulated sweat. "Chill out, Juice, It was just a notification from your phone. Speaking of that you should probably check it. " Deuce grabbed his phone, Accidentally dropping it on the ground from his hands being clammy but quickly picking it up again and typing in his passcode.

He looked at the notification at the top of his phone, a email from the schools drama club director, Mr crewel. Giving them a notice to come and pick up their costumes for the play. "Guys, The costumes are done! " Deuce yells in excitement.

The group gets up and walks through the familiar hallways of the school until they reached the brown double doors leading to the theatre. They walked around to behind the stage where they saw Mr crewel, His assistant, Mr Kang and a few other students in the play, recognizing the one near the boxes of clothes as Lilia Vanrouge, Sebeks grandfather and mentor.

"Master Lilia! We have arrived to pick up our stage costumes. " Sebek announces loudly, Lilia turned around giving a wide smile, receiving his sharp canine teeth. "Hello son! I was just about to check with Mr crewel if you had shown up yet to retrieve your costumes. " Lilia turned around again, picking up a large cardboard box and shoving it in Sebeks hands "Now, Go try them on! " He insists. The five boys walk back into the dressing area to unbox their costumes.

"Geez, I can't wait to finally see em'. " Epel says "Me too. " Jack agrees. Sebek opens the box slowly, getting ready to see normal outfits, but they got something most unexpected instead. Inside the box was five, sparkling outfits, some two pieces and some in a piece, mostly in silver but with accent colours. One in a bright red, a blinding yellow, a darker blue shade, a electric lime green and a dusty purple.

Epel gasped, "What in tarnation are those things? " He exclaims in shock, Sebek eyes also widened in disbelief, Ace only chuckled. "Well come on men, we need to try on our outfits. " Epel glared but picked up his garment, trying to remain unflappable but ultimately failing. They retreated back to the dressing rooms for a short moment before stepping out in their outfits.

Shimmering stones and glitter shine from the lights pointing down in the dressing rooms, Deuce looks at himself in the mirror and says to his friends "Well I guess that we're rather adaptable. " trying to make the mood less disappointing but suddenly, a shout comes from behind them. "Hey? What are you doing with our outfits? " One of them asks, the boys turn around and are met with the faces of their female actresses, Irene, Seulgi, Wendy, Joy and Yeri.

It then dawned on the boys that Lilia had fortunately grabbed the wrong boxes unknowingly. Ace started laughing "I got scared for a second that you were going to make us really wear these dresses! " He wipes a tear from the corner of his eye, Epel and Jack let out a breath of relief simultaneously, Deuce chucked slightly and Sebek stood there. But alas a crisis was avoided.

[clumsy-jiminie]

ɪɴᴇᴠɪᴛᴀʙʟʏ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱ | ᴘᴊᴍ | ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴇɪɢʜᴛ

❝ ᴍɪꜱꜱ ᴍᴇ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ❞

↣ summary :: Kiara Smith had dreamed of true love for as long as she could remember. from being obsessed with the Disney princesses who found affection in the strangest situations to dressing up as a bride from kindergarten to fourth grade. it was the only thing she ever truly desired, so much so that a pleasant smile and kind eyes could have her smitten in seconds. right when she thought she found the one, a chance encounter with Park Jimin—the city’s famously perfect fuck boy with a smile so warm and a heart of ice—has her feeling quite the opposite. he knocks her off her axis and derails her life as she knows it, yet the universe seems to have another plan for the two.

↣ rating :: 18+

↣ genre :: fluff, angst, smut, e2l, slow burn

↣ pairing :: business owner!jimin x fem!artist!oc ft. taehyung

↣ word count :: 4.5k

↣ chapter warnings :: mature language, mentions of pining (?maybe?), angst with little resolve, descriptions of a small panic attack

↣ notes :: this is a pretty tame chapter tbh minus taehyung being an asshat but what’s new? maybe kiara is finally opening her eyes?? jk is the best of the best here he deserves a crown

↣ next :: previous :: series m.list ↢

if you have any questions, comments, or concerns PLEASE don't hesitate to message me or send me an ask! my inbox is always open. 💖

"I miss the days where I was young and naive. I thought the perfect guy would come and find me. now happy ever after, it don't come so easily."

- all I want, olivia rodriguez -

ｓｐｒｉｎｇ

It's been days since Jeongguk swept away Kiara. Days since she heard anything from Taehyung. Days with tear-stained cheeks. Days of fighting with Jeongguk for her phone because she desperately wanted to contact her boyfriend, she wanted to reach out first and forget about this whole thing. Forget about him ignoring her. Forget about him taking her car and leaving her stranded. Forget about him single-handedly ruining date night.

But Jeongguk was a good best friend—a fantastic best friend—and wouldn't let Kiara have her phone until she realized the importance of the matter.

It took days. It was like kicking a nasty drug habit, and love was one hell of a drug.

After the third day, Kiara couldn't help but sit with her thoughts. Jeongguk locked her phone in a safe box that only he had the code to so she wouldn't do anything stupid while he was gone. She sat on the couch, sinking into the cushions from the overuse throughout the years. The 24-year-old played with her fingers, staring at nothing as her thoughts consumed her. 

When did things take a turn for the worse? They fight more frequently over the smallest of things. She knew couples fought, which was healthy for the relationship, but why did it leave her with a sinking feeling in her gut? The woman never saw her parents fight this much—maybe they were strategic with their disputes—but when she did, her father always came home with flowers for her mother. Her mother would smile brightly, lighting up the room while her father fell in love all over again.

Taehyung never did that for her.

Even in the beginning, once they moved out of the honeymoon stage, arguments were often left unfinished. They would become shells of themselves as they avoided contact with each other. Kiara would have to fake smiles around her friends so as not to worry them. After a few days of silence, she would reach out to the man, and all seemed right in the world once again.

No flowers, no I'm sorry's, and no falling in love all over again.

Was this how it would always be—their arguments left unresolved with her always putting her feelings aside to reconcile? Why did it seem like these disputes chipped away at her soul more while the other party remained untouched?

How was she going to fix this?

Why did she have to fix this?

By day four, she had become numb to the thought of Taehyung. Kiara was carrying the weight of their problems by herself and didn't want to anymore. She took off the load, tying it up with a pretty little box until she eventually returned. The woman was in the city, within walking distance of her friends. Being out here happened less than she would've liked. Until further notice, Taehyung didn't exist to her. She tried to ignore the freeing feeling, knowing it was only a temporary patch on their relationship problems.

"No, no, no!" The dark-haired woman yelled at Jeongguk's television screen. It was 8 in the morning, and she had no concern for the occupants who lived there. She got on her knees from her original sitting position, desperately mashing her little fingers on the controller.

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" She exclaimed as she watched the screen, her eyebrows folding inward. She inched closer to the screen as if it would help her. "WHICH ONE OF THESE ASSHOLES SENT A BLUE FUCKING SHELL?!"

The attack knocked her back a few places, but there was still time to reclaim her title of first place. She stared up at the 60" flat screen as silence fell over her, using every ounce of focus she had. She aimed for every box on the track, using the random items with precise skill until she returned to the top. It was the final lap, after all, and tensions were high.

"Down in front," said Jeongguk from behind her.

"YES!" She barely heard the man speak as she secured first again. She was only a few seconds away from the finish line. That was all until Kiara listened to the familiar beeps of something trailing behind her, trying to hit her. Her eyes widened as the red shell crashed into her cart right before the finish line.

The attack was fatal, knocking her back to fifth place.

“WHAT THE FUUUUUHHHHCK!!” The voice that came out of the woman's body barely seemed human. It was deep and guttural, starkly different from her soft and silky tone.

Jeongguk couldn't even hold back the cackle that ripped from his throat. His head flew back into the couch cushions while his hand held his tensing stomach. His eyes shut, deep crinkles forming next to them as his cheeks started to burn from the muscles of his face holding in place for too long.

"You're such an asshat for that!" She yelled while turning back to look at him. "You couldn't accept second place?!" Her amber eyes burned a hole into the grinning man.

"H-Hey!" He stammered through laughter. Once his sounds of joy finally died down, his eyes met hers while his lips fell into a straight line. He cocked a brow at her, "Do I look like someone who comes in second?"

"Right now, you look like a dickhead."

"Don't be an ass because I beat you fair and square."

"Fair and square?!" She repeated, her depth going up an octave. "I had that race, and you know it!"

The man's structured lips formed into a playful smirk. He leaned forward, exposed biceps subtly flexing as he rested his elbows on his thighs. His hands hung between his legs gracefully as he stared at Kiara.

"Is that why you came in fifth place, sweetheart?"

If this were any other woman, they would've been on their knees already for the man. Everything about Jeongguk was attractive—from the piercings that accentuated his lips and eyebrow to the tattoos that covered his entire left arm down to his hand, obsidian hair tied up into a messy bun most of the time, and his built physique. He had large, dark eyes, a straight nose slightly on the larger side, and baby-pink lips. On top of physical looks, he was an absolute sweetheart. He was protective of his friends and gave to anyone who needed help. It was apparent why he got girls with ease and rarely got rejected.

But he was going against Kiara, and all she did was stare back at the man. Her expression was unreadable, so he was caught entirely off guard when she suddenly reached out and grabbed Jeongguk by the collar of his tank top. With his eyes growing wide like a deer in headlights, she pulled him down to the floor before he could process what was happening, making the man forget how strong she was for a moment. As his back hit the ground, she swiftly got on top of him, straddling his hips. The woman grabbed a pillow off of the couch and began to beat the man with it senselessly.

Jeongguk laughed from underneath her, trying to block his face with his arms. Somewhere between the attack, he managed to grab the weapon from her and tossed it across the room. Kiara glanced back at the small pillow slumped against a wall before looking back at the dark-haired man under her. 

And for a second, the world had frozen in time for Jeongguk.

As his eyes locked with the woman above him—eyes golden like a summer sunrise, hair natural and wild like a lion's mane, his shirt draped over her body like a dress with a faint playful smirk tugging at her lips—he felt his heart pang. Like he was shocked with a defibrillator and brought back to life. He heat rushed to his face, flushing his cheeks with a pretty pink.

Kiara didn't notice.

Thank god she didn't notice.

She just reached for another pillow from the couch and continued her attack.

"K-Kiara!" He stammered again through fits of laughter. He tried to grab the pillow again, ignoring how his heart felt in his chest, but failed. His desperate attempts motivated the girl to increase the intensity of her hits, hearing a satisfying thud every time the plush object connected with him. This satisfaction didn't last long, as Jeongguk finally grasped the pillow and threw it with the other.

Their eyes met again.

"Looks like you're out of ammo," Jeongguk said with a smirk, his hands absentmindedly landing on her thighs. Her skin was soft to the touch and surprisingly warm. Why did he suddenly want to hold her?

"I wouldn't speak so soon." The dark-haired woman raised both of her hands.

He cocked an eyebrow. "You're gonna fight me?" Before she could respond, he let out a loud scoff. "You know I take MMA, right?" She nodded. The man was expecting her to back down, but instead, he felt her fingertips at his sides, tickling him. Jeongguk's eyes widened as he burst into laughter, squirming beneath her. He tried to grab her hands but couldn't get a good grip. "Fuck!"

Kiara laughed maniacally, giving the man exactly what he deserved—sweet revenge. Maybe he'd think twice before costing her a win in Mario Kart next time.

Suddenly, Jeongguk gripped onto her shirt, pulling her down on top of him before he rolled them over. The swift movement made Kiara discombobulated, allowing him to grab her hands and pin them above her head. Soft pants parted from his lips as she looked up at him with innocent, doe eyes—like the evil woman didn't just subject the man to pure torture. She pushed against his restraints, back arching in the process, causing Jeongguk to tighten his grip. In this position, he could only think about one thing. And he couldn't find himself to care about anything else at this moment. All he saw was Kiara's amber eyes looking at him like he was the only one who mattered in the world. He needed to shove those thoughts—those feelings—into whatever box they came from.

"You good?" He asked, chest heaving up and down slightly.

Kiara looked up at him, eyes flickering over his pink cheeks, hair falling out of his messy bun and into his face. "Are you?" She countered, smirking playfully at his appearance. She knew that look. She would catch his eyes lingering over her repeatedly and would ignore it every time she did.

Jeongguk let out a weak chuckle, the grip on her wrists loosening until they disappeared completely as he leaned back. At the same time, Kiara propped herself up onto her elbows. "Yeah," he breathed. "I'm good, couldn't be better. Uh….” He looked away from the girl, deciding that anything but her needed his attention.

A door suddenly opened, followed by heavy footsteps and a loud yawn.

Thank goodness.

"Y'all are so damn loud," said a tall man as he walked into the living room. Sporting a t-shirt and some blue stripped boxers, he plopped down onto the couch. His raven hair was sticking up at all angles from a rough night of sleep. His skin was pale pink with a little beauty mark underneath his left eye.

"Don't act like you weren't up anyway," Jeongguk said as he stood up. He offered Kiara his hand, pulling her up as well.

"Well, how could anyone sleep with y'all rolling around the place like you're having sex!"

The pair let out equal sounds of disgust. "Oh, shut up, Yugyeom!" They both groaned.

"I'm just saying!" Yugyeom countered as he looked at the couple. "Honestly, when are you two gonna finally get together? You know I've been an avid Kiakook shipper since meeting you guys."

"You know she has a boyfriend," Jeongguk stated as he rolled his eyes. 

"So? What's a little obstacle gonna do? Aren't y'all fighting anyway?" Yugyeom asked as his dark eyes settled on Kiara.

"I don't see why that matters," the girl said with a shrug.

"Oh, but it does!" Yugyeom grinned as he leaned forward. "See, if you guys are on the rocks, my boy Jeongguk could swoop in and save the day; then you guys can get together, and my Kiakook dreams will be fulfilled!" Heat rose to Jeongguk's cheeks, staining his face with pink once again despite the glare he was sending to the other.

"It's not gonna happen," Kiara deadpanned as she stared at the paler man.

"Who's to say it won't?" Yugyeom argued with a raised brow.

Kiara fell silent for a second, folding her arms over her chest as her brows lowered. "Jeongguk doesn't like me like that, right?" She turned to look at the man next to her, who was staring at Yugyeom.

When their eyes met, Jeongguk's heart skipped a beat. "Right," he quickly agreed while reaching up to fix his hair. Kiara knew him too well for her own good. She knew whenever he played with his hair, it was a tell.

Ignore it.

"Anyway," Jeongguk cut through the growing silence, feeling as if his roommate and best friend already knew the truth. He walked over to the bookshelf and pulled down a solid black metal box. After inputting a code, it unlocked, and he grabbed the phone from inside it. "I think you've earned this back." He tossed the device to Kiara, and she caught it between her hands. "I gotta take a piss," he announced before walking off to his bedroom.

"He's so bad at lying," Yugyeom chuckled as he stood up. He reached outward, stretching his long limbs while emitting a groan. "He's madly in love with you."

"Bro, shut up," Kiara rolled her eyes as she fiddled with the phone in her hand. Deny. Deny. Deny. That's all she could do at the moment. Between the rollercoaster of her relationship, dealing with Park Jimin whenever he decided to intrude on her life, and keeping Luna a secret, coming to terms with the fact that her best friend of over a decade could have feelings for her…, it would make her brain implode right now. She could only have so much on her plate before it shattered beneath the weight.

The skinny man shrugged her off. "It's only a matter of time, Ki!" He said in a sing-song voice as he got up and left the room.

Kiara sighed deeply before glancing down at the phone in her hands. Her brows furrowed for a moment as she stared at the device. Turmoil was bubbling inside her—half of her saying she shouldn't care while the other half cared deeply. She was scared that her assumption was correct. That Taehyung didn't bother reaching out to her at all—that he didn't care where she was. How could he not worry that the bed was empty whenever he arrived home and remained empty for four days afterward? This was her boyfriend, and he had to care, right?

Wrong.

When she unlocked her phone and scrolled through the notification banners, her heart sank further into her chest. Kiara scrolled back to that night, seeing only text messages from her group chat with her girlfriends, Aimee, and a missed call notification from her mother. She even opened up her text app, hoping that she possibly muted her notifications from him in a drunken rage.

But there was nothing.

Not a missed call.

Not a text message.

From Kim Taehyung.

Tears prickled at her eyes, threatening to leave and stream down her cheeks in hot waves. She looked upwards, blinking them away.

If he doesn't care, why should I? Why am I the one saving this relationship?

Just as she debated whether or not she should reach out and give that man a piece of her mind, her phone began to ring. She looked at the device, causing her heart to race a mile a minute. She contemplated, knowing she shouldn't for her sanity, but feeling like she should hear what he had to say. She clicked the green answer button and put it to her ear.

"Darling."

And with only one word falling from his lips, the woman was done for. Just like that, she fell back into the cycle of Taehyung without any resistance. Her heart swelled, all the negative feelings from the moment earlier melting away into nothing. The word alone was kryptonite, and how his deep voice said the pet name so effortlessly was like a shot of dopamine straight to the brain. She sighed in relief, sounding like the word "Hello."

"Hi." She could hear Taehyung smiling on the other side of the phone so clearly that she could picture his full lips forming that boxy grin she loved. "Where are you? You haven't been home for a couple of days."

Her heart outweighed her mind, ignoring that he noticed she was missing but didn't care enough until now to see where she was. Love was a sick thing. "I know, I'm at JK's place."

"Tell him why." Jeongguk's voice boomed through the quiet living room, sending a chill down her spine. Her eyes slowly trailed to him, meeting his glare. He leaned against the doorframe to his room, arms folded over his chest. "Tell. Him. Why." He spoke slowly and clearly, his tone more profound than before.

Kiara only nodded once, wrapping her free arm around her midsection. "Be-Because you left me at the restaurant."

Taehyung let out a soft sigh. "I know, that was so fucked of me, but I was so angry by your actions."

"That's not a reason."

"What? It is—"

"That's not a reason to endanger my safety. What if something happened to me? What if I didn't have a mind to call JK?" Kiara's heart started to race in her chest as her fingertips clutched the soft material of Jeongguk's shirt. "Would you have been OK with that?"

"I—" he paused for a moment before sighing deeply. "No. It would tear me apart. I'm sorry, Kiara."

A smile cracked on her lips, and the grip on her shirt began to lessen as she felt her heart swell again. Maybe he did care. "I forgive you."

"So when are you coming back home?"

Kiara's brows furrowed. He could miss her and wanted her next to him. But something in her gut was telling her it was not that, that it was something less pure. "I'm not," she answered before fully processing anything. It was almost like it was instinctual.

"What?"

"Not for a while," her tone started to get soft as she looked down at her feet. "I'm still a little upset and need more time to process." The fact that he waited four days and five nights to reach out didn't sit well in her stomach. If the roles were reversed, she would've been blowing up his phone on day one.

Maybe that was her problem.

"But I apologized!"

"And? Taehyung, I could've been kidnapped because of your actions!"

The reality was finally setting in for the woman. If she hadn't called Jeongguk, who knows where she would be right now? Someone could've picked her up, offering her a ride home, and that would've been the end of her.

"My actions only happened because of your attitude!"

Kiara's jaw dropped to the floor, uncertainty swirling around in her abdomen. It was still her fault. Of course, it was. She chose to drink, thus choosing to mouth off at him. If she stayed silent and played the good girlfriend, she would be home by now.

"Still," her voice fell to just a whisper. Her throat tightened as she held back the urge to let rivers of tears flow down her cheeks.

Taehyung huffed, signifying that he was growing tired of this conversation. "Listen, I'm sorry you made me so angry I had to leave you. All I can do is apologize, and you've already forgiven me! Just come home, please. I miss you."

Kiara's breathing quickened as she listened to the bullshit spewing out of his mouth. She looked at Jeongguk, who looked like he was ready to drop everything and take a ride out to Long Island to beat some ass. His jaw set, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek as his arms folded over his chest. As if the anger emitting from Jeongguk spread to her, she gripped her shirt again. "Miss me some more then," she said before hanging up on the man.

Kiara panted softly, placing her hand on her chest as if it would slow her racing heart. Jeongguk looked at her with wide eyes, his once-set jaw now hanging. "Ki!" He screamed, causing Kiara's eyes to dart towards him. He had a broad smile spread on his lips. "FUCK YEAH! Do you know how long I've been waiting for you—" Jeongguk looked at the woman, who suddenly started crying. She was on the verge of hyperventilating as she crumbled to her knees. He ran over to her, pulling her sobbing self into his hard chest. He rubbed her back gently, "What's wrong?" He asked softly.

"I-I just don't know how long I can keep doing this. Everything is always my fault," the girl sobbed, absolutely breaking Jeongguk's heart.

His brows furrowed as he clenched his jaw. What did this man do to her? "Nothing is your fault, Ki. What he did was beyond wrong, and the fact that he's trying to blame you for it is sick."

She didn't say another word, for her mind convinced herself she did wrong. No matter what Jeongguk said, nothing would change her mind. They wouldn't be fighting right now if only she held her tongue.

"I love him, Kookie," she sniffled, "I love him so much. I just want him to know that nothing else matters than him."

"Ki," he mumbled. This relationship was getting out of control. Her mindset was fucked, and he didn't know how to fix it besides telling her to leave. And she wasn't going to do that. This wasn't the first time she cried in his arms on his living room floor, and it sure wasn't going to be the last.

Jeongguk pulled away from Kiara, whose sobs had quieted down to soft sniffles and whimpers. He cupped her face in his large hands, wiping away tears from rose-stained cheeks and trying not to melt at glittering amber eyes. It was heartbreaking to see her cry. She had one of those faces that made you want to cry along with her.

"Why don't you come out with me? Clear your head for a little. We'll stop by Little Latte, and while I'm at work, wasn't there a yoga studio you wanted to try?" Kiara nodded a little despite her cheeks squishing from Jeongguk's hands. He couldn't help but smile. "OK, you can get a class in, then we can stop by Mario's on the way home. Sound good?"

Kiara inhaled deeply, knowing her best friend knew best. If she declined, he would've dragged her out regardless. Otherwise, she would soak Jeongguk's pillow with tears until she cried herself into a nap, then repeat the process. Pushing through these negative emotions was the best way for her to process them. Kiara knew that. Jeongguk knew that. She hated that he knew that.

"Fine."

It was the most positive response she could muster up. Jeongguk didn't allow her time to debate, practically lifting her off the ground and shoving her to his bathroom. He gave the girl 20 minutes to get ready, including a shower. Kiara barely had enough time to properly sulk before Jeongguk barged in, blasting That's My Best Friend by Doja Cat and Saweetie while singing along remarkably loud. Kiara tried her hardest not to laugh at the man who impressively rapped each lyric with the same energy as a five-month-old puppy.

Jeongguk had dragged her out of the apartment complex soon enough, hand in hand, tattooed fingers laced with non. The cool air nipped at Kiara's exposed skin, but it was insufficient to cause discomfort. She tried to keep up with the long-legged, chipper boy, but in the back of her mind, all she could think about was Taehyung.

Not that she had enough time to think about him. Little Latte was a hop, skip, and jump away from Jeongguk's apartment, which explained the cafe owner's distaste as he walked into the quiet shop. 

"Hey! You're 15 minutes late, Jeon!" Mr. Choi yelled out, and all Jeongguk could do was offer the man a childish smile full of mischief and wonder. Kiara hid behind the taller man as much as she could. She hated Mr. Choi seeing her like this.

"Sorry, Mr. C., but I brought your favorite person!"

Kiara softly cursed the man as he stepped to the side, revealing her before she slowly looked up at the man.

"Good morning, Mr. C."

The man's face sank, instantly recognizing the sadness hidden in Kiara's features. "Aw, my child, come here." He outstretched his arms to her, prompting the small girl to drag her feet close enough to the man for him to embrace her. She inhaled shakily. He smelled warm—like toasted cinnamon and freshly roasted coffee beans. Mr. Choi had the best hugs, especially when her family was far away. He patted her back gently like a father would.

"Do you want your favorite?"

Kiara nodded as she let go of the older man. He gave her a single nod before returning behind the counter to get to work. She wasn't a coffee person, hating the bitter taste it left on her tongue, so her favorite included a hot chocolate with fudge drizzle and extra whipped cream. It didn't matter if it was a thunderstorm outside or 100 degrees; Kiara would consume the beverage regardless. 

She waited to pay, and Mr. Choi always fought her on the matter. And as always, Kiara shoved whatever money she owed him, plus a few extra dollars, into the usually empty tip jar on the counter. The dark-haired woman took her drink, walked to her usual seat by the window, and watched the shop come to life. As she sipped on the chocolate goodness in her cup, licking away whatever whipped cream got on her top lip, she watched the store buzz like a beehive. All types of people from different walks of life gathered at this shop. Some just needed a quick cup to go. Some grabbed a pastry along with their drink and stayed a while. Some had textbooks and notebooks with laptops, studying for something important. Others had just a good book that they enjoyed reading.

People-watching had always made Kiara feel better for some reason. It made her seem less significant in the grand scheme of things. She would forget about her problems as she pretended to know others. There was nothing wrong with a bit of escapism now and again.

After finishing her drink and watching Jeongguk interact with the customers for a little while, Kiara finally felt OK enough to continue her day. Yoga clears the mind. But before she got up, she grabbed a sticky note and pen that was on every table and left a small message for her future self whenever she would return.

↣ next :: previous :: series m.list ↢

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Light on the Darkside - Chapter Twenty.

Here we are, guys. Time jump time! We now get to see James and Ella as proper (well, as much as our dear James can be, at least!) adults and parents. I really hope you enjoy this next part of the story just as much as you did their early years together :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 4,336

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

20th February, 2014. 

He’d blinked and turned forty.  

It honestly felt like five minutes ago when he’d celebrated his twentieth birthday, drunk off his arse in The Gallows, having to be carried out at the end of the night by Steve and Snedders, promptly throwing up all over the latter’s boots. Now, he was twenty years older, probably only marginally wiser, and at a very different stage in his life.  

Most of it was thanks to the woman astride his hips, enjoying riding him into the bed at 5am, the only time either knew they’d get that day before the onslaught of hellions prevented them from partaking of a little husband and wife time. Yes, he and Ella had married ten years before, together for a staggering seventeen in total that coming summer. Seventeen years with his babe. And god, how she still was. 

“Shitting hell, what a top grade way to start my first day being an old bastard,” he panted, reaching to squeeze her tits, Ella licking her top lip seductively with a wink.  

“What kind of wife would I be, if I didn’t give my sexy arsed husband a damn good riding on his birthday?” How much sexier he kept on getting to her adoring eyes, too.  

His hair was still as long and beautiful, his body now ripped with bigger muscles thanks to some serious dedication to the gym. He also sported a larger covering of tattoos with both sleeves now finished, his hands and the sides of his neck adorned, a full back piece and most of his legs covered. Also, he had new additions to his chest that really, really amped his arousal. Especially when his wife tugged them with her teeth.  

Releasing her bite upon one of his nipple piercings, she circled the dark peak with her tongue, driving her hips against him wildly as his thick cock split her wide. While what they once enjoyed once or twice a day was now more realistically once or twice a week or less, depending on life outside of the bedroom, they still burned just as hot for one another as they had in their early twenties. Very, very much so.  

If only their daughters didn’t have quite such a knack of disturbing that burn... 

The thumping of feet preceded her arrival, James’s eyes widening. “You locked the bedroom door, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah,” she panted, moving to his other nipple ring and giving it the kind of tug that had his eyes virtually swivelling, laying a hard smack to her bum. “The tiny beast cannot pass the gates.”  

No, but she could shout from them. Loudly. “Mummy! Mummy! You awake?” 

“Yes, baby cakes. Give me five minutes!” 

“It’ll be more like two if you keep riding me this fucking hard, Ells bells,” her husband panted in whisper, pulling her down to suck upon her nipple. 

“No five minutes! Now!”  

If Freya Kingston was anything, she was very, very demanding. “Go back to bed and wait for me there. Five minutes, promise!” 

“You shitting better, mummy!”  

James almost laughed her off his cock at that, Ella rolling her eyes. Nope, he hadn’t managed to curb his swearing as much as necessary, their three-year-old now picking up on a few of his less than favourable cusses. “Her father’s daughter through and through.” 

“Innit?” he chuckled, kissing her with blistering heat as his hands roamed her back, turning her onto it to begin utterly railing her into the bed. God, the finesse he did it with, though. Sex truly had gotten better over the years, even though it happened much less often. Driving himself into her hard, he smiled down at her, biting her lower lip before their tongues swirled, kisses steeped in sugared embers, Ella’s quiet moans making his heart skip. 

His mouth clasped to hers as the rolling rhythm of his fuck had her cresting against him, the pleasure a blinding neon burst as she shattered like heirloom glass, lying there breathless and sweaty, stroking his mane of incredible hair before her role of mummy had to take precedence.  

With the new extension on the back of their home now complete, it meant the luxury of an en-suite bathroom, something much needed in a house with three children within it. They jumped in the shower together, washing quickly, James out first and drying off before dressing, Ella hurrying into her favourite comfy lounging clothes once she was done. 

“Behave,” she warned, James pulling her flowery lounge pants down to give her bum a quick wallop, still feeling very amped up after their steamy morning session. 

“You love it!” While he went downstairs to put the kettle on and let their two French Bulldogs out, Ella went in to get Freya, finding her youngest emptying one of her drawers.  

“Don’t know what to wear, mummy!” she cried, holding up bundles of tiny clothes with an exasperated look. “Am I princess today, or am I grunge girl today? Who can say!” 

Being Freya’s mummy was a constant stream of pure delight, her youngest by far the most comedic of the three. “How about grunge princess? Nirvana t-shirt and pink jeans?” 

“Yes!” Grabbing a pair of pants as well, Ella hoisted her up, taking her to the bathroom to get washed and her teeth brushed, her long, dark brown hair fought against with a comb and neatly braided into two French plaits either side of her head. Much fussing endured.  

“Wish I had hair like daddy’s!” 

“Everyone wishes they had hair like your daddy has, baby cakes,” she spoke through her mouthful of pink hair elastic, reaching the end of the second plait and securing it. “Come on, then. Let’s get the tiny hell beast fed.” 

“I am not a hell beast! I am chaos of the night, the destroyer of worlds! That’s what daddy calls me!”  

Oh, god. This child.  

Ella and the chaos of the night went downstairs, Freya scrambling down to greet Hugo and Otis, the small yet stacked dogs circling her a few times before she flung herself at James, grabbing his hands and climbing his legs. “Alright, little demoness of darkness. How are the army of the dead this morning?” 

“We ride at dawn!” 

He pointed at the window, where the sun was almost fully up. “It’s dawn now. Better go rouse your troops, innit?”  

“Victory will be mine!” she further shouted, James wincing. 

“Yeah, and your old man here will have perforated eardrums,” he spoke, kissing her cheek. “Right, what do you want to eat?”  

“Burger!” 

“Nah, tiny. You can’t have a burger for breakfast.” Oh, the face he was met with. It was his own in teeny tiny, pissed off female form. 

“Why not?”  

“Shhh, lower your decibels, baba,” he spoke, Freya wriggling around in his grasp, pointing out into the garden. 

“Berries!” 

“It’s winter, none growing,” he reminded her, “but I think there’s some in the fridge.” 

“Blueberries and strawberries.” his wife called, dolling out kibble into the dog’s bowls across the now much bigger kitchen. This seemed to pacify the destroyer of worlds, Freya making her request to have them with yogurt as well, James seating her at the island and furnishing her with a small bowl before going back to his tea. It was quiet for all of ten seconds... 

“Oh daddy! It’s your birthday today! Happy birthday, daddy!” 

“Thank you, your right honourable princess of doom.” Yes, he had many a humorous name for his youngest, and she loved every single one of them.  

“Mummy! Mummy! Can I give daddy hims present now?”  

“Not yet, sweet,” Ella replied, juggling a very hot pitta bread after it had popped up from the toaster, ready to slather it in Marmite. “We’ll do pressies when your sisters are up and daddy is back from the gym.” 

Her other daughters took a while longer to rise of a morning, Zara usually first, Lyra virtually needing a cattle prod to shake her from beneath the covers. She very much followed her dad there, having a deep-rooted love of slumber. True to form, just after she’d kissed James goodbye at 6:10am, Zara came trudging down the stairs.  

“Hi, mummy. Can I have eggs, please?” 

Ella dropped a kiss to her head, stroking her dishevelled mop of dirty blonde hair. Her and Lyra had her exact hair and eye colour, Freya darker and with grey eyes like her daddy. “Scrambled, poached or boiled?”  

“Hmm.” A thoughtful face was made. “Poached, please.” 

Shit. She would say that, Ella’s arch nemesis of all culinary endeavours. Usually she’d task James with it, but with that not possible, she’d have to pay attention. Or cheat. Yes, cheating was preferable.  

“Who’s taking us to school today, you or daddy?” Zara asked, taking a seat at the island while Ella poured some of the boiled water from the kettle into a mug, cracking in the first egg before taking it to the microwave. Forty seconds and boom, one poached egg. Not quite as good as when done the traditional way, but needs must.  

“Daddy is, after he’s dropped your sister at nursery.” 

“What time?” 

“Usual time, quarter past eight.” Zara had to know the details of her day to the very minute, or she became anxious about the littlest of changes. Her routine was very soothing, and she didn’t take well to having it suddenly tampered with.  

Her parents were trying to work in little differing factors to certain situations in order to show her that nothing bad would happen should that routine change, but sadly she’d still have a meltdown over something as innocuous as dinner being switched at the last minute. It was a form of obsessive-compulsive disorder, her ritualistic behaviour, apparently quite common in children and usually something they grew out of. 

Luckily, she showed no other signs of needing such order in her life, her fairly disorderly bedroom testament to that. They’d been told by their GP to keep an eye on it, throw in the occasional curve ball to differ her routine in a gentle way and reinforce that nothing would go wrong because of change, also receiving a lot of advice from someone who had become very close to them over the years. 

“Are we still going to stay at auntie Mary’s on Saturday?” Zara asked. 

“Auntie Mary!” Freya chirped with joy, shovelling in another mouthful of fruit-laden yogurt. She was might have been the wildest of the three, but she never missed her mouth where food was concerned.  

“Yes, baby cakes,” Ella confirmed, placing the second egg down on the toast she’d just buttered, handing them plus cutlery across the island. “Don’t ask me a time, though, because I don’t know just yet.”  

In the years that had passed since Lyra’s birth, Mary had become a treasured part of their lives, ‘auntie’ to their children, and since her retirement four years previously, a very willing babysitter whenever she was needed to be. She was, in short, just as wonderful as she had always been, thinking of James, Ella and their girls as her extended family.  

When Ella had gone into labour two weeks early with Freya, it had been Mary with her for the first few hours, the unexpected labour starting while they’d been enjoying a day out together. Truly, she’d been wonderful, keeping her calm and making for excellent company while James had raced to get a flight home from Sweden, the band in the middle of finishing up a tour.  

Yes, Mary was most certainly as much a part of their family as they were hers.  

With her earlier career years spent working closely with children suffering from mental health issues before moving into caring for young adults, she’d truly been the perfect person to act as a reliable soundboard back when Zara had begun displaying such behaviours a year before.  

Not that Ella wasn’t very capable from her own merits, being a psychologist with eight years under her belt, but Mary still remained her oracle. With all of her children, she’d found Mary to be invaluable where advice was concerned.  

The first born of those children was actually up and in the shower of her own volition by half past seven, which came as a surprise, coming down to give her dad a big hug. 

“Happy birthday, old fart,” she smirked, kissing his cheek and passing him over his gift. 

“Oi, less of that, monster,” he spoke, flicking her on the forehead lightly before carefully opening the very thin gift he’d been presented with. Pulling out the A4 sheet of drawing card, his jaw dropped. “Effing hell! That's awesome! Come here, kid. Give us a hug.” 

Yes, he could filter his predisposition to swear sometimes. Lyra wrapped her arms around him, smiling with pride that he loved the drawing she’d created for him. He’d been mentioning wanting something to fill an empty space upon the back of his leg for some time, his eldest drawing him something truly beautiful to have tattooed. Where art was concerned, Lyra was exceptionally talented. Drawing and music were where she truly excelled, following in her dad’s footsteps and choosing guitar. 

Once his other gifts and cards had been opened, he had just about enough time to blend a protein shake, take the dogs for a quick walk and be back in time to wrangle the girls into his truck and take them to begin their respective days. 

James would never be a people carrier kind of person, choosing instead a Mitsubishi Warrior, of course in black, which dwarfed Ella’s little Jeep on the drive. Hell, it had only been in recent years that they’d been able to afford being a two-car family at all, with how much it had cost them to renovate their home. Both pulled in decent salaries at that point in their lives, though, enjoying reaping the rewards of their hard work.  

Being a musician was something he did more for the love of it than the money, his endeavours within the band netting him on average between twenty-five and thirty thousand a year. Sometimes more, often much less. What earned him the better income was the security firm he now owned and operated, his guys running doors and offering event security around a large portion of the West Midlands area.  

JNK Security had once run out of a leaky portacabin for years in between his long-haul touring stints, his office space now managed from home after having what was virtually a second house grafted onto the back of their existing one. He enjoyed the fact he could be at home when he actually was off tour, helping Ella co-parent their girls since her working space was now run from their house as well.  

While he managed all things security from one room off the kitchen, Ella had a space tailored for her therapy sessions next to it. Her brand of therapy was very much like his now former therapist Michael, wanting to offer a relaxed environment for patients to have their sessions in. The space was very quintessentially Ella, white, light and airy, candles and plants dotted around, and just like Michael, a large sofa she sat upon to chat with her patients informally while assisting with their mental struggles.  

Her speciality? Of course, eating disorders.  

She still did work away from home as well, travelling to various practices on a Monday and Tuesday, running her own clinic from home for the other three days a week, with some Saturday morning sessions too when she could. By the time he arrived back, she was in session with her first patient of the day, James entering his office followed by the dogs, a strong cup of tea in his hand as he sat down to begin his first task of the day. Payroll.  

He’d first thought to pay somebody else to do it for him, but since he had a fairly good aptitude for numbers and using a computer, the payroll software making it even easier, he didn’t see the point when it only took an hour out of his morning around answering calls.  

Between the two, he found a little time for the permanent resident of his office, getting Hel out of her viv and letting her crawl onto his head and over his chest and back. At nineteen, she was an old lady, well into her expected lifespan years of between seventeen and twenty-five. She scared the shit out of his kids, all bar one. Yes, the destroyer of worlds indeed loved the giant, black spider.  

“Right then, beautiful girl,” he spoke, gently lifting her from his chest, “better do some more work and all that.” He returned her to her viv, throwing in a cricket to eat before locking her away (Ella still couldn’t cope if she escaped) and turning back to his desk. 

“Yep, yeah, okay so I’d advise a team of twelve. Four front doors, two rear, two loading bay and four on venue patrol for somewhere that size,” he spoke, on a call to someone who required his services for a one-off music event. “No, the cost is non-negotiable. Okay... yeah, the fourteenth is fine. I’ll send an invoice. Bye.” 

Looking down at where Otis’s potato shaped bulk lay happily on his lap, he gave his massive bat ears a rub. “Always trying to chip me down by a few hundred, innit. Fucking tight arses.” The dog merely yawned and grunted, happily going back to sleep while his dad made a few more calls to arrange who was where that evening. He still went on the doors himself from time to time, usually for old times' sake with Steve, who now worked for him as well whenever he needed a few hours here and there in between his other job of flipping houses with Andrea. 

Just as he had pledged only hours after meeting her, Steve had married her just under seventeen years before. They’d done something utterly insane, eloping to Greta Green after being in a relationship for five months, James and Ella the only people they’d told and invited to the ceremony.  

The couple now had two sons, lived only fifteen minutes away and truly couldn’t be happier. It was on Steve’s advice that he buy the house they now lived in, the abode an absolute steal for what it could have fetched in the town of Atherstone, had it not needed such extensive modernising.  

They’d purchased number three, Thornhill Drive six years ago, Ella virtually ready to pop while pregnant with Zara when they’d moved in, slowly doing it up room by room, the large extension built upon it finishing the work just six months ago. While he continued into the late morning, Ella found a free half an hour to make notes between patients, spending the rest of her time checking her social media accounts and sending a few funny memes to Andrea.  

She had to keep her Instagram on private, save the scores of Nocturnal Descent fans attempting to access her photographs. She tended not to put pictures of her children online unless their faces couldn’t be seen, always mindful of the darker side of the internet. There were, however, plenty of her and her love. One she’d shared recently had made her heart burst, taken on a disposable camera by Andrea while they were still all patients within the confines of Moor Acres. Her caption for it was typical Ella. 

“Me and my church burner, 1997, falling in love.” 

The picture had been taken beneath their tree out on the grounds, her sitting on his lap, both smiling happily at one another. God, she couldn’t get over it, how tiny she’d been back then. As a thirty-nine-year-old woman at a healthy weight of nine stone, she often couldn’t reconcile seeing pictures of herself at twenty-two, just over six and a half stone in that particular picture with James, as being her.  

The ravages of anorexia no longer haunted her, she was pleased to say. Also, James had long been off his antidepressants and no longer in therapy to no ill effects, although he constantly monitored his moods for anything that even slightly fluctuated. Continuing her social media scrolling, she had a peek on the band’s Instagram page, if for nothing else but to see how well received her photographs had been. 

In her spare time, she still loved to get out and about with her camera, her last excursion being granted access to the photographer’s pit at the end of Nocturnal Descent’s UK tour that had rounded up a long stint just three weeks before. James had long been one of her favourite photographic subjects, being as photogenic as he was. Even with corpse paint on and fake blood dripping from his mouth all over his neck and chest. Opening the comments, she had a read through, shaking her head and chuckling softly at some of the spicier reactions to the guys. 

“Good freakin’ god, those rabid fangirls!” 

Once upon a time, she used to tour the message boards to see what was being said about her husband, groupie girls discussing which of the guys were down to fuck, as it was worded. Not because she didn’t trust James, but it was nice to see that her trust was reflected in what he’d say and how he’d act in a room without her in it.  

“If you want to get with Berserker or War, it’s a no-go, unfortunately. They’ll turn you down. Those guys are happily married, trust me. I tried it on with War last time they toured here. He just held up his hand, tapped his wedding ring and said ‘nah, babe. I take that seriously.’ He’s always up for a chat, though. Nice guy, can be quite intimidating but he’s funny and interesting. The only guys in the band you’ll have any chance with are Necro Storm and Fury, maybe Tyrant, depending on whether he’s got a girl or not.” 

“Yeah, I can vouch for that, too. War and his wife don’t live too far from me. I met them at a pub recently and they took a few pictures with me. They’re really nice, but just don’t approach War when he’s with his kids or he’ll tell you to fuck off, so I’ve heard!” 

Those were two from many years before that had stuck out in particular to her. She always welcomed the fans coming up to say hello, unless they ever got a little too friendly with him. Most were very respectful, though, and she was always flattered when they wanted a picture with her as well.  

The only time a line was drawn was when they were with their children, Ella usually being much politer, but the slightly volatile streak in James’s nature decreeing he could often be rude and standoffish. “Nah, I'm with my kids. Fuck off�� was what you’d usually have thrown at you if you tried to pester him for a photograph while he was with his daughters. He’d chosen a career which gave him semi-famous status, but they hadn’t.  

Later that night, they were gladly left alone as they sat and ate dinner in the restaurant area of The Queen’s Head, their favourite local pub. Even though his actual birthday outing wasn’t until the weekend, Ella had wanted for them to do something low-key on the actual day itself, joined by her mum and boyfriend, Jon, as well as James’s dad. And his mum. 

Indeed, there had been a change there in his family status. With Carole having passed so many years ago and the damage she’d done put to bed, there was a new woman, one much more deserving who he now fondly referred to as his mother. Alan had met Alice a year after his separation from Carole, the family finding her to be the gentlest, sweetest woman they’d ever met. Since suffering from chronic endometriosis for most of her life, Alice had been unable to have children of her own, and over time had very much grown to see James and Sam as hers.  

She’d surprised them one year at Christmas, with the gifts they’d opened. Adult adoption papers. “Might as well make it official now I’m married to your dad, hmm?” she’d spoken, before receiving a very fast-moving son and daughter into her arms, James and Sam telling her that they didn’t need it, but were thrilled all the same. To them, she was mum, with or without the official paperwork proving such.  

And god, how proud she was of them. Carole had never once been to see Nocturnal Descent play live; Alice made it her priority when they toured. One of Ella’s favourite pictures from the last tour had been of James leaning from the stage, a sweaty, corpse paint-streaked mess, sticking a bloodied tongue out at Alice as she’d guffawed laughing. Ella had captioned it perfectly. 

“War and mother War.”  

“That’s my son!” the bubbly, vivacious blonde had shouted proudly to anyone who’d listen, beaming as she watched from the photographer’s pit with Ella. It was all he’d ever wanted, a mum who was proud of him. Alice was exactly that. 

Even though neither James’s sister or Ella’s could make it, both Sam and Jane working away, they still had a fantastic night together as a family, getting home in time to get the kids ready for bed, one last day of school before the weekend was upon them.  

“So, Mrs. K,” James spoke, plonking himself down on the sofa and lying with his head in her lap. “Are we partying like it’s nineteen ninety-seven on Saturday, or what? I feel a top-grade time coming on.” 

She beamed, leaning to kiss him. “We’d bleedin’ better be, BFG!”  

While a lot of things had changed for them, some remained the same, and they still loved to go out and have a good time whenever they could. Saturday would be no different.  

[zeeamoe]

I Got Transmigrated Into My Own Novel

Part 3 of this original story click here for the previous part words: 2257 warning(s): -

Four days later. The day of the written assessment.

The details for when and where the assessments take place were all written on the application form. And although I only announced it in my class, the application was actually open to any scholars in Eamonn's Castle. Not that it matters, because Lucian Eldridge only had one assistant in the end.

Still, seeing the classroom packed with mage scholars was... something. It had to take place in a bigger room because of the number of people applying. Even then, all the seating was full.

The written test only consisted of 5 questions, all of which were pretty detailed. The difficulty was exceptionally high, though. It was fun to watch the faces of these scholars twisted as they read the questions. Some of them wrote without any hesitation. Either they came up with random answers, or they were confident in their wrong answers.

The questions were very specific that it could only be answered by someone who had encountered demons, had observed them carefully, and was experienced with magic. It was still possible to answer them without meeting those three points, but to pass the test they needed to answer perfectly.

I stood in front of the classroom, pretending to keep watch of them. They were only given 30 minutes to complete the assessments.

Yet, after just 12 minutes, the first scholar stood from their seat and walked to the front with their answer sheet.

Step, step, step-

Everyone stopped for a bit to take a look at whoever was finished.

It was Kiel.

He promptly put his paper on my desk, bowed a little, then walked towards the door.

Clack!

After the door closed, another scholar stood up. A young woman wearing a light brown coat. She skipped lightly in her steps, put her answer sheet on top of Kiel's, then walked to the door as well.

Hmm, did she give up? It was rather quick.

She had a confident look on her face that resembled Kiel's.

Except, unlike Kiel, the woman didn't close the door when she walked out. And then, a small number of scholars stood up. They rushed to put down their papers and walked out the door.

After that, more of them followed.

Sounds of scholars shuffling from their seats, walking up to submit their answer sheets, and then leaving. It didn't even reach 30 minutes until the classroom was empty.

Well, I didn't expect this.

The story was written from Kiel's point of view, so I never knew how much time the rest of the scholars spent on their answers. I glanced at some of the papers as the scholars were stacking them. None of them seemed empty, they were filled with reasonably lengthy answers. I pouted in my mind without letting it show in my face.

I was planning to just grade Kiel's paper, but now I'm curious at what answers these background characters came up with.

There was still the field assessment. The tests weren't taken in stages, which meant that everyone had to attend both. Even if they got perfect marks in the written one, they wouldn't pass if they fail the field one.

It took place two days later.

On my desk, beside a stack of papers, a glass box was placed. Inside it was a small purple creature, crawling around.

I looked around the classroom before tapping lightly on the glass box. The creature inside it ran to one of the corners.

I asked the class, "Does anyone know what this is?"

"It... looks like a house lizard," answered one of them. A young man on the front row, wearing a hat.

"Correct."

"Why is it purple?" asked another.

I simply glanced around the room again, waiting to see if anyone would answer.

A voice chimed in from the middle, "It's a demonic creature."

"Correct."

I picked up the glass box from the desk, one hand holding the clamp of the lid. Then I crouched down and held the box near the floor, tilting it slightly.

Click!

As soon as I opened the lid, the lizard bolted towards the classroom seating.

"Oh my god!"

"Where did it go?"

"I don't know! It was too quick!"

"A-Ah, I think it's under my table!"

"What? It was just here!"

Panic shouts came from every part of the classroom. Within less than a minute, it seemed that the creature had traveled to all the corners.

"Don't worry, it's not dangerous. The mutation only increased their speed and senses. It had simply become a lot more evasive."

I started walking through the gap between the seating. Some scholars were still peeking down, sensing something that had brushed their feet.

"For this assessment, you have to catch at least one lizard."

The scholar right next to me, as I passed him by, stared at me with a confused look.

"...Uh, one?"

"I released 36 of them in the castle."

Someone coughed somewhere. I saw some scholars looking at each other as if to ask, 'Is this for real?'. Some of them were gripping their hair.

You think it’s hard? All you had to do was to catch only one. It took quite an effort to catch 37 of them in the wild, you know?

"The conditions are simple. You have to catch the whole lizard in one piece. You can't bring just its tail, or one without its tail. And the lizard has to be alive. Because... Excuse me."

I crouched between the fifth and sixth row, holding out my hand to the floor. And the lizard suddenly bumped into my palm as if it had been running straight into it. I immediately grabbed its whole body without giving it a chance to detach its tail or escape. I had used a small amount of magic to detect its path, and used a bit more to conceal the presence of my hand.

I held up the lizard for the whole class to see.

"You see, demonic creatures this weak are fragile to magic."

I exerted just a little bit more of the magic pressure into the palm of my hands, and the lizard shriveled. Not even a second later, it stopped moving.

It was an assessment to detect demon magic and utilize their own magic with high precision.

If they were not able to sense demon magic, they might not find even at least one of them. And once they did, they had to use the right amount of magic to catch it. Too little might cause the lizard to detach its tail and slip away. But, too much will cause the lizard to die.

"Any questions?"

Several hands shot up.

"Yes?"

"Do we have a time limit?"

"Until sun down," I replied shortly before pointing at another scholar, "You?"

"Any limitations on the magic we can use?"

"You can freely use any magic. I was given permission, and I will take responsibility for any damage. Next?"

"What if the lizards are out of the castle grounds?"

"I put up a thin magic barrier affecting only the lizards, all 36 of them are still alive and roaming inside. Anyone else?"

"Can we catch more than one?"

"If you can."

All the hands were down. I scanned the room once more to confirm before heading back to my desk.

"I guess there are no more questions," I stated.

The scholars seemed to be on edge with an eager look on their faces. It was not often for mages to get a chance at showing off their skills, and to have anyone boldly state that they would take responsibility for the effects. Some mages practiced in destructive magic.

I sighed, amused.

"You may start."

All of the scholars scrambled out of their seats and sprinted out the door. Seems fun.

I sat back and continued reading the answer sheets. Having read most of them, I was quite relieved. Most of the answers were pretty good, but almost none were considered 'perfect'. I also found a small few that had written complete nonsense.

In fact, the answers were very realistic, as if they were written by college students. Personally, I have never been a teacher or a college professor, but the questions were answered in a similar style to how I would have answered my essays.

There was only one answer sheet that was concerning.

One, where the applicant had answered all the questions perfectly, even mentioning aspects of the problem that most would overlook.

It was concerning because the answer sheet didn't belong to the main character.

Kiel's answer sheet was perfect. That was expected, and I didn't have any doubt in the beginning. However, I never would have guessed that anyone was able to answer just as perfect. Or, that they were able to answer better.

I frowned, but then shook it off.

Considering that this world had elements running on its own outside of my knowledge, it is likely to be another one of those things. I focused on the main character and the plot surrounding them, ignoring the rest of what should exist in the story. Realistically, it wouldn't be odd to have more mage geniuses in the country, like background characters to fill the worldbuilding.

This background character probably understood the theory of magic and demons better than the main character, but was not good in practical magic. Yes, that must be it.

I picked out the answer sheet with 5 checkmarks, and started to read one of the answers.

'Injected and possessed demonic plants differ in the way they react to demonic creatures. Plants that were injected with demon souls would not discriminate to attack any creature, whether it had demonic energy or not, while possessed ones are particularly pliant towards demonic creatures. In the presence of a demonic creature, possessed demonic plants will let itself be eaten. This is because in the nature of demons, they would submit themselves to the stronger ones. As a plant, they will become a supplement to increase the demonic energy of the creature.'

The concept of becoming a 'supplement' to other demons had not been explored that much. It was a relatively new theory. That last sentence made it the completed version of the correct answer.

Knock, knock-

Someone had knocked on the widely opened door. Standing on the doorway, was a tall young man with disheveled hair. His outfit was all dark, but it was clean. He must have taken my advice to get rid of the demon's corpse residue.

Seeing that I had noticed him, Kiel spoke.

"Professor Eldridge, I caught one."

As he walked in, I replied nonchalantly, "State your name. And put the lizard in the glass box."

"Kiel."

Kiel gently put the lizard in the glass box before closing the lid. I observed the purple creature. It looked lively, with its tail and all.

"Congratulations, Kiel. You passed the field assessment."

The young man in front of me let out a relieved sigh. He bowed lightly. I feel like he had been bowing his head a lot. Did I really make him bow that much in the novel?

"Thank you."

"I'll announce the final results tomorrow. Look forward to it."

"I will."

He nodded rather energetically. A soft smile on his face.

For someone who had black hair, with black eyes, and wearing all dark clothing, he seemed to look... bright. His hands were both behind his back, but I could see his arms toned with light muscles. His hair, parted in the middle, still had a few strands that dropped in front of his face. Something reflected in his eyes as he was staring at me. Probably the lights from the window.

Hard to believe this would be the person to put me in a never-ending torture.

I looked at him blankly.

"Are you waiting for something?" I asked.

Kiel blinked.

"Oh, no. No, uh... excuse me."

But, just as he was about to turn and leave, someone else entered the room.

A young woman's voice exclaimed, "I've caught a lizard!"

My eyes widened. The woman that walked in was wearing a brown coat. She had straight, black hair that came down to her shoulders. She was smiling widely, with a purple lizard in the grip of her right hand.

I was dumbfounded. Then, I caught a glimpse of Kiel looking at the young woman. I wasn’t able to read his face, but I could probably tell what he was thinking. Something that I would have written in my story.

[To have encountered someone with almost the same abilities as him, it was admirable. Kiel knew that he had strength and potential when it comes to magic, many have told him so. And to get to that point, it wasn’t easy. After all, he had experienced the hardships himself.]

Fixing my expression, I tried to relax and keep up the character of 'Lucian Eldridge'.

"You can put it in the box... And state your name."

The young woman swiftly opened the glass box and put down her lizard, before closing the lid again.

"It's Donia, Professor Eldridge."

I looked down on the answer sheet I had been holding. It can't be. I was sure there were no two applicants with the exact same name. And on the upper right corner of this answer sheet, a name was written neatly. It was so neat, that it was impossible to misread.

'Donia'

A character that never appeared in my novel, had completed both assessments with flying colors.

[a-dose-of-oranges]

Post 03 - Platonic Love

1/29/2022 7:14 pm

When I first read The Infernal Devices series by Cassandra Clare at the young age of nine, I wanted Tessa Gray’s life. If not for the adventure that made the story what it was, then for Will Herondale and Jem Carstairs. It was not because both Will and Jem are attractive fictional men (though I would never deny they are), but because I sought love from a young age. And not just any kind of love, romantic love. In Clockwork Princess, Woolsey Scott said “Most people are lucky to have even one great love in their life. You have found two,” to Tessa Gray. I wanted to be Tessa because from a young age I saw that she attained not only one of what I yearned for so desperately but two. Though as I explained in my previous post, that conventional romantic love I once dreamt of is not the most probable for me. 

The concept of having a “great love” can be applied to friendship, too. Like many other people, I have had many friends throughout my lifetime and will continue meet more people who I will consider my friend ongoing. However, that does not necessarily mean they will be there for the remainder of my life. I moved from what I consider my hometown the summer of 2014, ironically the summer I discovered TID, I left a lot of friends behind who I have not been in contact with since. I was only nine, and so were they, meaning there was not really a way to keep in touch. I graduated from high school last year and I have not spoken to a majority of people I considered my friends since the night we walked across the stage.

Our lack of contact does not negate the fact we were friends at one point because for the most part there was not a friendship breakup or falling out, our time just came to a close and we all drifted, which I guess could signify the end of the friendship for some. I have heard people say once you are a friend, even if it was a five minute happening in a public bathroom, you are a friend for life unless otherwise stated. The latter makes sense to me, I mean if I were to see some of these old friends from high school I no longer speak to and there is mutual recognition, I would smile and wave. I would not smile and wave to strangers, so that must mean something, right?

Regardless, a lot of these friends I am no longer in contact with were mostly surface level and forced proximity. It’s not a bad thing, but there is some unspoken boundary. For me to speak to them again, I would have to see them in public (which would trigger the smile and wave), but that would all be by chance. I don’t think either side of the friendship would go out of our ways to reach out, though I also don’t think either side of the friendship would mind if the other did. Maybe raise an eyebrow, but nothing much more. 

There are friendships that seem to be carrying through my life, however. I met one of my best friends in third grade, just over ten years ago. I moved away from our hometown a little under two years later after we became friends. Yet, we somehow managed to keep in touch through the remainder of our elementary years, our middle school years, our high school, and now college. Even in middle school, my mom noted that our friendship is different and will probably carry on for the remainder of our lives because we remained close through the distance at such a young age. I met my other best friend the freshman year of high school. We remained attached to the hip for all four years. She went off to college, while I remained here to attend community college, so we do not see each other everyday like we once did. In both instances, we find time to talk and hang out when we are free. We are living our own lives, but we always come back to each other and make room when we can. 

It has always been easy with both of them. I have a special place in my heart for them that can never be replaced by anyone or anything. They are not people I am afraid of losing not because neither of us cares, but because I feel secure that they are people that will be in my life for the long run. If there are people who know me from all angles and who have heard things from me that I would keep to myself otherwise, it is both of them. And if there is anyone who has loved me in the times I was unable to love myself, it is both of them. It has always been them, and as far as I can tell it will always be them. 

People would define a great love as their one romantic love that will last them a lifetime. The person they will marry, live with, start a family with (if they choose), die with. With me being aromantic, it is hard to tell the future of my “romantic” relationships. Regardless, I can say I have my great loves already. In a sense, I am like Tessa Gray. I was lucky enough to not only find one in the first, but another in the second. It is not what I envisioned as a child, though I will not rule out having a “romantic” partner in the future, but in this moment they are my two great loves in a friendship, platonic soulmate way.

[blessednereid]

LFLLLL Prologue: Mutual Pining

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

WC: 3.5k

Taglist: @rogershoe

~

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

        Lydia's House

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

"Lydiaaaaaa!" You had barged into Lydia's house unannounced that afternoon. You had work that afternoon, but you called in sick, not physically, but emotionally. And only Lydia could help you. 

"LYDIA LORRAINE MARTIN!"

"Y/n, what's wrong?" Lydia's mom, Natalie, had come out of her office because of your shouts.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Martin, I didn't realize you were home. Your car wasn't in the driveway," you apologized.

"It's fine, dear. Lydia's upstairs taking a nap. You know how much of a heavy sleeper she is."

"Thank you, Mrs. Martin."

"Please, I've told you many times. Call me Natalie."

You nodded before heading upstairs, where Lydia's room was. 

You opened her door, and as you thought, she was lying on the bed, snoring and drooling. A sight you had gotten very used to since you first met her in third grade. 

"Lydia Lorraine Martin. We have a code-red!"

Immediately, Lydia jolted up from her bed and began flailing her arms in the air. She lost balance before falling off the side. 

"Oh, MY- Ugh." You went to help her sit back upright on the bed, sat next to her, and laid your head in her lap. 

"Y/n, what's wrong? Why did you wake me up?"

"We have a code red!!"

'Code reds' were what you and Lydia had when you caught real feelings for a guy. 

When you were younger and in middle school, Lydia had gotten a crush on the cutest guy in your math class. 

On Valentines Day, she wrote him a card and put it in his locker. The card said, "I think you're cute♡︎ What do you think about me?" Later that same day, she found out that almost all of the kids in your two's class had read the card. And on top of that, the guy was a huge jerk about it. 

Since then, you and Lydia vowed to never catch feelings for anyone until you were at least twenty-five. 

"Who is it, babe? What happened?" Lydia asked with a concerned tone. 

"It's Isaac."

"Your partner for the World History project?" 

"Yeah, him," you sighed. "We started getting closer, and he started talking to me, and we bonded over our moms' death, and there were carnival rides and vampires and freezy pops!"

"Woah, Woah, Woah! Slow down!"

"So basically, I did what you told me and took him to the county carnival, right? Then, he told me about his mom dying, and we talked about that, and then we went on rides and fought about their pace, and he was fine after like a two-hundred-foot drop. So then, we went on a rollercoaster, and after that, I was cold because I was wearing a light jacket."

"Okay, keep going…"

"So then he warmed me up by giving me a hug and then led me in the building, and we just hung out there until like five? Then when we were doing the slideshow, he started asking me about my room and shit, and when we were done, we watched that show I told you about, with the high school vampires."

"Oh, the babysitter one?"

"Yeah, that. So, he was actually interested. And then we just kept watching it together throughout the week since we finished the project. And then when we were presenting today, you know I have that stage fright. He just held my hand and calmed me down, and he listened to me after we were done, and he actually cared about it instead of dismissing it.

"Not that you dismiss it, Lydia." She nodded. 

"Anyways, after that, GB had to talk to us, and she ratted me out about writing his name down, and then he got slightly mad at me but not really, and then I explained. And he just told me he would see me tomorrow for our movie night…" you trailed off, debating whether you should tell her the last part.

"So that's when you realized?"

"After that, I turned away, and then he kissed my cheek and whispered in my ear, 'see you tomorrow or something like that!"

Lydia chuckled. "So you have a code red?"

"Lydia, I have a hang-out with him tomorrow. I'm not gonna be able to fucking think straight!" 

"Babe, just go and see how it goes. Maybe it's a 24-hours thing, you know? Just adrenaline. It affected you like this because you don't go out."

"Lyds, it's not like that. It's different."

"Y/n, that's what I tell myself before every hookup," she deadpanned.

"Okay, yeah. You're right. It's just a 24-hour thing."

"It's just adrenaline, babes. Nothing more, nothing less."

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

  Movie Night

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

'Nothing more, nothing less…"

Those were the words that kept repeating in your head as you twisted Isaac's hair around your fingers around Isaac's hair as his head rested in your lap.

"Y/n, are you okay?"

You blinked rapidly.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine!" 

"It's just, you're not watching the show?" 

"Oh, sorry. I was just thinking about something."

"Whatever you say, princess…" 

Princess. The pet name made your heart flutter, and you thought you would explode. 

"Give me a minute, please!" was all you said before picking up your phone and dashing out the room.

You headed to the bathroom and dialed Lydia's number right after texting her "Code Red Emergency."

"It's not a 24-hours thing, is it?" she said when she picked up.

"No…"

"Okay, here's what we're gonna do…"

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

 Previous Day

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

╭╼|══════════|╾╮

       Isaac

╰╼|══════════|╾╯

He watched you as you turned around. His nerves crawled through his spine, and he curled and unfurled his fingers before finding the confidence–, no, before finding the ability to move.

When his lips touched the side of your face, his heart was set aflame. 

'How did I just do that?' he thought. But entirely different words came out of his mouth. 

"See you," he said, and he internally pumped the air when he saw your lips curl upwards into a smile.

When he reached class, his actions had finally sunk into his mind. 

He went to his seat where his friend, Dillon Karis, sat beside him. Dillon was the only friend of Isaac, and they had known each other since middle school. 

"Dude!"

Dillon turned his head to his friend, whose urgent tone caught his attention.

"You know that girl I was telling you about?" Isaac said enthusiastically.

Dillon scoffed. "You mean the one who's been taking up all your Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday nights?

"Yeah, I remember her."

Isaac rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Dude, I think I may actually like her…"

"Holy—" Isaac cut him off.

"Shut up!"

Dillon took two breaths to calm down before speaking.

"Explain. Now!"

Isaac threw his head back.

"I don't know. It's just the way she makes me feel." He smiled. "It's like… the way my mom used to tell me about how she felt about my dad? It's weird."

"Bro, you barely know her. Are you sure?" 

"No, I'm not sure, but I think."

"Well, let me know. This is interesting. Shoulda brought some popcorn today, as I had planned," Dillon burst out laughing, and Isaac followed.

"Dude, I have to go to her house tomorrow."

"Why? I thought you already turned in the project." 

"We have our movie night," Isaac said before realizing what that might sound like to his friend. 

"Oh shit! So y'all already been going on dates?"

"No! No…" Isaac pointed his finger at his friend, signaling him to stop.

"Dude, so what are you gonna do?" 

"I don't know…"

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Movie Night

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

Isaac was now highly flustered as he laid his head in your lap. You didn't bring up the kiss, so he assumed he either made you uncomfortable or you didn't like him enough to care. 

He looked at your face to see if there were any signals or indications, but he saw that you were completely zoned out. 

"Y/n, are you okay?"

You blinked before saying, "Oh yeah, I'm fine." 

Isaac raised his eyebrows before turning his attention back to the television. 

When you dashed out the room with little explanation, Isaac took his emotional matters into his own hands. He had decided to get rid of his feelings, sure that they were unrequited.

He headed out of your room and knocked on Stiles' door. 

"Come in!" he heard faintly, and he opened the door.

"Isaac, what's up?" Stiles had barely looked up from his work.

"I know we don't know each other that well, but I need some advice, and I figured that you probably know a lot about girls…"

"Not really, but I'm flattered you would think that. Please come in!"

Isaac stepped into the room and sat on Stiles' bed.

"Is this fine?" to which Stiles nodded.

"So, Isaac. Tell me what's going on," Stiles said before clasping his hands together. 

Isaac took multiple deep breaths. He was about to ask your brother how to get rid of his feelings for you. Who does that?

"I have a crush… on this girl. And I know that she doesn't like—" 

"You know, or you think?" 

"I think, but she's given no sign of liking me…"

"Okay, continue."

"She doesn't like me. And I was wondering if you knew if there was anything I could do to… get rid of the feelings I have…"

"Oh boy. Isaac, I wish I knew. I'm in that same position. However! I wouldn't tell you if I did know. Because you never know, right? Unless they've told you that they don't like you, you don't know for sure. And even then, it could happen in the future."

That was not the advice Isaac was hoping for, preferring to put himself out of his misery before he could get in it. 

"Alright, thanks, Stiles."

"No problem, bud!" 

Isaac walked back to your room, where you were laid down on your back. 

"Hey, where did you go?" 

"Nowhere, I just needed to… uh.. get some air." 

You squint your eyes, and even Isaac wasn't convinced by his lie, but he didn't say anything else before he laid beside you. 

"Lydia is having a party next Saturday. You should come."

"Oh, I don't think—"

"Please, Isaac? It'll be good for you to get out of your house like Mrs. GB said."

He couldn't resist the tug on his heart when you flashed your pouting eyes, and he had to give in.

"Fine, I'll see what I can do. That's not a promise." 

"Yay!" You exclaimed before pressing a kiss to his forehead. The action made Isaac's heart race, and all he wanted to do at that moment was kiss you. 

In fact, it was all he thought of for the next few minutes. 

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Isaac's Daydream

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

"Love?" 

"Yes, babe?" you responded to him. 

"This is the spot. Stop going ahead of me." 

You mouthed an "Oh" before laying down on the blanket he set by the flowerbed. 

"So, whose house are we breaking into right now, Mr. Lahey?" you teased. You and Isaac were sitting in the backyard of a foreign house you had never seen, but you followed Isaac anyways.

"Yours."

You scoffed a 'what' as you had never seen the house in your life.

"Mines. Ours." He smirked.

Your face of pleasant surprise made his racing heart slow, as he thought you wouldn't like it. 

"This is our house?" 

"Well, it was my grandparent's house. They left it to me when they died. They said I can only get it when I turn 18, and now since we're together, It's our house."

You leaped onto his lap and kissed him feverishly. 

"This is the best surprise ever!"

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Reality

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

"Isaac!" You yelled, and Isaac didn't know what you had said before. 

"Sorry! I just zoned out."

"It's not a problem."

╭╼|══════════|╾╮

You

╰╼|══════════|╾╯

"So, do you want to watch a scary movie?" 

You actually weren't planning on doing any of what Lydia had suggested you do, which was to just come outright and tell him you like him. 

Instead, you chose to suffer in silence, thinking there was no way possible that Isaac liked you back. And even if he had, you two would be better off as friends… Right?

At least that is what you chose to tell yourself.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Isaac Leaves

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

When the movie was over, Isaac went home, and you prepared for bed. 

That night you dreamt of things you wanted in your life that you couldn't have. 

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Your Dream

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

"Hey, Isaac?"

You two were curled up together on a couch watching a movie, much like your reality. However, a few things were different.

"What are we having for dinner?"

"Babe, we're in a hotel, and the only restaurants have a pre-set menu. If you want food, you either get what they have, or we Postmates." 

"But neither sounds good. I want Pasta!" 

He sighed. "Then lets Postmates pasta, babe."

"But I want you to make it," you pouted. 

"Okay, how about this." You turned to face him to hear his proposition. 

"I get you dessert with the food they have here, and I make you pasta tomorrow?" 

You smiled and wrapped an arm around his neck.

You hummed before saying, "That sounds perfect," and he kissed you with a burning passion.

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

       Morning

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

"Y/N! WAKE UP!" Stiles woke you up from your dream. 

"WHERE'S THE FIRE?" You flailed around before falling off the bed. 

Stiles chuckled loudly. 

"MIECZYSŁAW STILINSKI!

"IT'S A FUCKING SUNDAY!" 

You groaned loudly before grabbing a pillow and throwing it at him, effectively knocking him down but not ceasing his laughter.

"Relax, Relax! Dad's taking us out for breakfast."

You rolled your eyes heavily. "Ugh, I hate you. GO! Let me change!"

"Wait! Wait! I have a question…"

"What?" 

"What's going on between you and Lahey?"

You looked down and away from him. "Nothing," you murmured. 

When you looked back at him, his eyes were narrowed, and his forehead was crinkled. 

"I don't believe you one bit."

Your face heated. 

"There's nothing going on, Stiles."

He scoffed. "We may be fraternal, but we're still twins, Y/n. Whatever, I don't like him anyway."

"Why not, Sti?"

He moved his face closer to yours, and you craned your head back for air. 

"Because I'm your brother, I'm never gonna like any guy you date. None of them are worthy of my sister."

"Well, you don't have to hate him because nothing is going on."

"Hmmm... Sure," he stated simply before walking out. 

You got ready, wearing an off-shoulder baby blue top that was slightly… starchy in texture, as well as a pink plaid miniskirt and black slip-on sneakers. 

When you got downstairs, your dad and Stiles sighed a heavy "finally," and you mocked offense. 

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

Waffle House

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

You got in the car and began driving. You looked out the window enjoying all the sights while Stiles tried to coax your dad into talking about cases. 

Your dad turned and pulled into the parking lot of the Waffle House.

You sat at the counter and talked until someone came to get your drinks order. 

"So, Stiles, when are you going to bring a date home?" your dad asked with a squint. 

"Not anytime soon, He's still stuck on Lydia."

Stiles blushed. "Well, I mean, It's working. She knows who I am. "

"No, she doesn't. But… I do know this girl—" Stiles cut you off. 

"If it's not Lydia, then no, thank you. I'm stuck on her like white on rice."

Your dad interjected your argument. "Stiles, you sound like a stalker. Normally, we arrest people like you."

"Okay, Let's change the subject. Y/n, wanna tell dad about Isaac or should I?" 

You rolled your eyes. "Why should I? There's nothing going on?"

"Wait, who's Isaac?" your dad said while whirling his hand beside his head. 

"He was my partner for a project I had for World History."

Stiles laughed. "We presented on Friday. What have you guys been doing in your room?"

Your dad's eyes widened. "Why is he in your room?" 

"We just watch movies, Dad! We do nothing else!" 

"I highly doubt that. In fact, why don't I ask Isaac right now?" 

You blanched. "What do you mean?"

"He's coming up behind us," he said, looking past your head. 

You began choking when you saw him in your peripheral version. 

"Can I get you something t- Stiles!" Isaac popped up from behind you and began to ask for your drink orders. 

"Hey, Isaac," you said as you turned around. 

"Hey, Y/n!" His intonation was normal, his facial expression was off. 

╭╼|══════════|╾╮

Isaac

╰╼|══════════|╾╯

"What do you want to drink?" he asked, though his focus was on your dad's squinted gaze pointed directly at him. 

"Can I get a coffee?" Noah spoke up first. Isaac jotted down his order.

Stiles followed. 

"I'll get an Arnold Palmer!" he said while raising his hand. 

"Is that on the menu?" Isaac asked confusedly.

"No, but it's half of a lemonade, half of an iced tea in one glass."

"Okay… Arnold Palmer." 

"Y/n," the lovestruck boy said with a smile. "What about you?" 

The corners of your mouth turned up. "It's not on the menu, but is there an option for an iced coffee?" 

"Uh, I'm sure there is." He knew there wasn't, but he also knew you didn't like hot coffee much. 

"Are you sure? I don't want to--"

"It's fine, Y/n," he reassured.  

He walked away and headed to the kitchen to tell the cooks the drink order. 

"I need an iced coffee, a regular coffee, and A half-and-half lemonade-iced tea. Please," he added. 

Isaac glanced outside the kitchen window and gazed at you softly. He admired the way your eyes glimmered in the sun and how your hair bounced with every gesture you made. From this, he began to appreciate how amazing your hair looked and how the light refracted off of it. 

He smiled a lopsided grin as he watched the way your lips move. He imagined how they would feel on his. Soft. Smooth. He had the notion that you were probably experienced in that field, more so than he was. 

No. He couldn't imagine that. When he thought about the things he just thought, it sounded creepy and perverted. Besides, there was no way that you liked him back, so even thinking about it would just lead to further heartbreak. 

He grabbed your table's drinks and walked back, trying to ignore your smile because he couldn't stop the race that his heart ran whenever he saw it.

"Alright, here are your drinks."

"Isaac, can I talk to you outside?" asked Stiles.

"I'm actually working, so I can't do that. But, I can take your orders."

He jotted down each of your orders and went back to the kitchens.

╭╼|══════════|╾╮

            You

╰╼|══════════|╾╯

"Stiles, I swear to God, I'm gonna hurt you."

"Not my fault you're over here pining after Lahey but won't do anything about it."

"Up your ass and off your high horse, Stiles!" You did your best to be quiet with your statement, but your dad still heard. 

"Hey, hey!"

"Sorry, Dad," you and Stiles said simultaneously. 

You watched the cooks prepare the food in front of you, but you hoped to see Isaac somehow, even though he was in the back.

You thought about his messy hair and how it felt in-between your fingers... How his eyes dilated with each smile, and the tiny specks of green in those ocean blue eyes were always able to calm you down.

You noticed how his lips were never chapped and how his cheeks looked like apples when he smiled, and the one dimple that was prominent in those moments as well. 

You wondered if this was how Lydia felt for the boy that caused their entire concept of code reds or if you began to feel something much more for the boy with the shy demeanor and quiet voice. 

When Isaac came back, you thought about how you could try to confess your feelings. But, you knew that if Isaac was barely willing to talk to you for a long time, it would be a snowball's chance in hell that he liked you the same way. 

"Alright, here's your waffles and your hash-browns, Y/n. Your sandwich, Sheriff, and your All-Star breakfast, Stiles."

"Thank you, Isaac," you said with a smile.

He turned to leave before you called out. 

"Um, Isaac!" He spun around on his heel at your calling with a questioning look on his face. 

He walked back towards you, prepared to write something else down on his order pad. 

"Movie night, tomorrow?"

He smiled. "Yeah, sure." 

"Dorota, you cannot tell me you do not like him."

"Mieczysław, I do not." 

Your dad cut in. "Sweetheart, and if you do?"

"I don't. Can we just leave it at that?" 

~

[kanjukucompany]

【A3! Translation】 Golden Hathi (3/11)

previous chapter / next chapter

(translation under the cut)

(glitch text ignore)

Izumi: About that Indian film theme park… I can’t believe it, we really got permission!

Misumi: Woohoo! Yayyy~!

Taichi: Yes! Thanks, Director-sensei!

Tasuku: He really said yes…

Tenma: Things seem to be going pretty smoothly…

Izumi: The theme park hosts scheduled regular performances on stage, and they were having a little with that.

Izumi: Since we’re a theater company, they requested our advice about that area.

Azuma: It looks like we reached out to them at just the right time.

Izumi: That’s right.

Izumi: I was also told they want to incorporate both acting and dancing into their stage performances.

Izumi: By the way, since we’re cooperating with them, it looks like they’re also going to provide us with accommodations too.

Taichi: Which means that has to go through Sakyo-nii’s budget check too…

Izumi: Nope, I’ve already got his OK!

Taichi: Yay!

Chikage: You didn’t overlook anything.

Izumi: But… their accommodation facilities are limited, so it looks like we can’t have a training camp with everyone after all.

Chikage: Well, it’s not easy coordinating everyone’s schedules when you have people entering the workforce or moving up a grade in school.

Izumi: So this time, I’d like to only invite those who are interested in participating in the camp.

Taichi: Me, me, me—! I wanna go!

Misumi: I wanna go too~!

Izumi: I knew you two would say that.

Tenma: I’m also interested, but I can’t go because of my filming schedule…

Azuma: I think I’ll go too.

Izumi: So Azuma-san will also be joining us. Got it.

Tasuku: …How did that happen.

Azuma: I just thought it sounded interesting. I’ve been wanting to go since we watched that movie the other night.

Tasuku: We’re not taking a trip there.

Taichi: Tasuku-san and Chikage-san are coming too, right?

Chikage: Huh?

Tasuku: I plan on going. This was Utsuki’s idea to begin with, so I assumed he was going to go too.

Izumi: Not to mention this theme park has an Indian motif. In other words…

Chikage: There’ll be curry…

Izumi: And probably the best spices you could ask for. I’ve already invited Omi-kun to come because of that.

Tasuku: Oi.

Chikage: …Well then, I’ll go.

Izumi: I figured you’d say that.

Tasuku: What’s with you two.

Azuma: Fufu, maybe I’m not the only one who feels like traveling.

Tasuku: Sigh…

Taichi: A training camp at a theme park before it opens, giving advice on stage performances…

Taichi: It’s gonna be so much fun, and I’m gonna learn so much! I’m super pumped~!

Misumi: I’ll suggest my triangle dance too! I’m really looking forward to going~!

Tenma: Oi, make it a dance normal people can do.

Izumi: I’ve received stage scripts and dance footage from them, so I’ll share it again with you guys on LIME.

Tasuku: Alright, got it.

Izumi: I think we can invite one more person to the training camp with us. I’ll send a message out asking everyone on LIME, but let me know if you know of anyone who’s available.

Chikage: …Dancing, huh. Then we should probably ask him.

[shingekinohyrulewrites]

Coffee & Comfort

While studying for midterms at an obscure coffee shop on campus, your (very handsome) professor comes in to do some grading. The two of you share a table since he needs an outlet to charge his laptop, which leads to the start of a forbidden relationship.

Read on AO3 here

Read previous chapter here

While you normally looked forward to Professor Todoroki’s class, you were extremely nervous today. His class wasn’t until noon, but you spent the entire morning fidgeting in your seat, finding it hard to focus as you tried (and failed) to take notes during lecture. When your Anthropology class ended, you took your time gathering your things before slowly walking over to the smaller, adjacent lecture hall.

Professor Todoroki had already started class, voice booming across the hall as he gestured to the slides behind him. His eyes immediately flickered over to you as you walked in. Instead of taking your normal seat near the front, you sat at a seat near the exit. You tried hard to ignore the fact that he was frowning before he returned his gaze to the screen.

Even though the class was an hour, it felt like three. You took careful notes, keeping your eyes only on the slides and your laptop screen. When he announced the end of class, you began to quickly pack up your things. The sound of your name being called had the lecture hall going silent, and you slowly lifted your eyes up.

Every single pair of eyes were on you. Professor Todoroki was looking directly at you, face slightly lowered towards you. Swallowing nervously, you gave a slow nod before slinging your bag over your shoulder. You passed your classmates as you made your way towards him, each person giving you a curious look as you walked by.

When you finally arrived at the front of the lecture hall, you stopped at the foot of the stage. Professor Todoroki slipped his laptop into his briefcase before climbing down the steps towards you.

“Why were you late to class today?”

“I stayed behind to talk to my Anthro professor,” you lied, hoping that it sounded true.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Concern was evident on his face, his brow furrowing as he studied your face for an answer.

“Excuse me?”

“Last night, did I do something wrong? Did I overstep some boundary?”

You could only blink at him, mind trying to catch up with what he was saying.

“If you wanted to stop meeting, then that’s fine with me. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, especially since I’m your professor, and I -”

“No!”

Your voice was loud in the now silent lecture hall. Your cheeks burned as you began to furiously shake your head.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I promise. I’m just . . . stressed.”

Relief flooded him, shoulders sagging as the tension left his body.

“Okay . . . I’m glad,” he confessed. “It was hard for me to focus throughout the lecture because I was worried that I had upset you.”

Your professor was thinking about you during his lecture. Your mouth went dry at the thought.

“Do you want to meet tonight, then? Would that be okay?”

“Sure, that’s fine,” you said. “This is my last class of the day.”

“Do you want to meet at, say, seven?”

You confirmed with a nod, giving him a gentle smile.

***

Espresso Express was packed.

It seemed your best kept secret was no longer that. Every single table in the cafe was filled, with the baristas working hard to keep the orders coming. One of the baristas, who you recognized from your nights here, shot you a sympathetic look from behind the counter.

“Well, there goes our plans,” Professor Todoroki frowned.

“I can’t believe it,” you sighed. “When I came here at first, it was so empty. I guess people started talking about it and brought their friends along.”

He nodded, reaching up to run a hand through his silky hair.

“Are you hungry?”

You blinked, slowly turning your head to peer up at him. He was looking back at you blankly.

“Er, I could eat. I ate a little around five.”

The two of you step out of the cafe and back into the cool night. Professor Todoroki - Shoto, you’re so used to calling him Professor - glances around you before speaking.

“My car is parked in the faculty parking lot. It’s not too far from here.”

He leads the way, keeping a respectable distance between the two of you. You notice he’s glancing around you both subconsciously, eyes flicking around. This part of campus is empty at this time, with random students walking around, heads ducked as they stare down at their phones.

Shoto’s car is parked on the fourth floor. It’s a sleek Acura SUV, its headlights shining brightly in the lowlights of the garage. He opens the passenger side for you, holding out a hand for you as you awkwardly climb in. He pulls out of the parking space smoothly, quiet music playing in the background.

“I know a great spot. It’s a bit away from campus but well worth it, I assure you.”

You nod, turning to give him a quick smile before turning away. The lights of campus begin to fade away, the familiar landscape of Tokyo quickly approaching you. You half expected Shoto to drive halfway across the city, but instead he pulled into a small strip mall less than ten minutes from campus.

He opened your door again, placing a gentle hand on your lower back. Butterflies began to flutter deep in the pit of your stomach, your cheeks quickly beginning to warm. A traditional Japanese restaurant greeted you, tucked in between a dry cleaners and an old watch repair shop.

The hostess greets you two quickly, bowing while greeting you in Japanese. You return the greeting shyly, with Shoto quickly saying he needs a table for two. She quickly leads you to a table in the back of the restaurant, sliding two menus towards you before scampering off.

“Shoto! What are you doing here?”

You turn to see a young girl, not much older than you, smiling at your Professor. Her dark hair is pulled into a ponytail, her uniform stretching painfully across her large breasts. Insecurity begins to gnaw at you, and you bite your lip as you survey the menu quietly.

“Oh. Momo. I didn’t know you were working tonight.”

“I didn’t know you were coming in tonight! You’re always here the same day every week.”

The two continue on, oblivious to you sitting there. The insecurity slowly shifts into jealousy, and for a moment you feel ridiculous. Shoto is your professor, he holds a position of power over you! But you begin to feel anger simmering at the surface, with annoyance quickly climbing along with it. Pursing your lips, you begin to flip through the menu noisily, trying your hardest to drone out their conversation.

“That’s fine, right?”

You lift your head to see them both staring at you. Blinking, you turn to look at Shoto.

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, I . . . ordered us two teas. I hope that’s okay?”

“Oh, sure, sure.”

The girl called Momo gives him one last smile before retreating to the kitchen. You remain silent, pretending to be preoccupied with the menu.

“Everything here is delicious. If you need recommendations, please let me know.”

You nod, not even bothering to look up. Momo returns rather quickly, placing the cups down. She turns to Shoto again, eyes lighting up as she speaks.

“Do you want your usual? Cold soba?”

“Sure. That would be great.”

He turns to you then, and you realize he’s waiting for you to order.

“I’ll have the udon with a side of shrimp tempura, please.”

She leaves again, but not before saying goodbye playfully to Shoto. You try hard not to scowl, reaching into your pocket for your phone and scrolling through Instagram.

“Is . . . everything alright?”

He’s staring at you with the same worried expression from earlier in the day. Your jealousy subsides a little as you give him a small smile.

“Just tired. It’s been a long day.”

“I hope I’m not keeping you from your work,” he frowns. “I know you usually get a lot done when we’re together.”

Your cheeks warm at the last part of his sentence, and you clear your throat as you take a sip of tea.

“I got a lot done earlier today. I won’t fall behind, so don’t worry.”

It’s quiet for a moment before he asks about the rest of your day. As usual, you fall into an easy conversation, talking about your classwork and friends while he talks about his coursework and his peers. When Momo returns with the food, he doesn’t even bat an eye at her, which makes pride swell in your chest. You eat dinner while still talking, cracking the occasional joke and trying not to laugh too loud in the quiet restaurant.

The two of you stay there for an hour after you finish your meal. Shoto had asked you about your parents again, wanting to know how they met and how they had felt about you leaving for Japan.

“They met quite young, actually. I think they met at a block party.”

“Block party?” he furrows his brow.

“It’s an American thing. Basically, every neighbor on the street comes together to barbecue, have some drinks, and mingle. They had both just moved in recently with relatives and were immediately smitten.”

“That sounds very sweet,” he smiles.

“Yeah, they’re still very much in love. It’s endearing. It gives me hope.”

Something in his expression changes, but it happens too quickly you can’t register the emotion. He smiles, but there’s a hint of something behind it.

“And the move? Were they okay with it?”

“For the most part. They were devastated at first. They assumed that I would go to some local state university, but they also knew I had dreams of traveling. It was hard for them to accept it, but they eventually came around to it.”

“They sound very supportive.”

Glancing down at his phone, his eyes went wide.

“I’m so sorry. Let me drive you back. It’s getting really late.”

He led you back to his car, his hand once again sliding down to your lower back. The drive back to campus was shorter, and a part of you was dreading having to say goodbye. He pulled back into the same parking spot, shutting off the car but not making an effort to move.

“Can I say something?”

Surprised, you turn to give him a nod.

“I . . . I really enjoy spending time with you. I know that, as your Professor, I really shouldn’t be spending this much time with you outside of class, but . . .”

He sucks in a breath to steady himself, carding a hand through his hair.

“I find myself able to completely be myself around you. With my status, I feel like I have to put on so many masks. But with you . . . I don’t need one. I can walk around maskless.”

Your heart swells in your chest. Words fail you at that moment, and instead you stare at him dumbly.

“I’m not sure what will come from this, but . . . I hope we can make it work for a long time.”

With that, he finally turns to nervously peer at you. His cheeks are tinged red, lips twitching slightly with fear. Smiling, you lean across the center console to clasp his hand in yours.

“I feel the same way, Shoto.”

[thatshiscigar]

Now We’re Even

JJ Maybank x Reader

Requested by @maybebanks : Can you do one where y/n spends the night at John B’s and she wakes up on top of him, jj is also there but he slept on the couch. JJ has a crush on y/n but doesn’t want to admit it so he sleeps with a bunch of tourons. One of the tourons is rude to y/n that morning and JJ defends her. Later Y/n asks why JJ sleeps w so many girls and they get into an agrumeny and he asks why she sleeps with John b . She didn’t have sex with him just woke up lying on top of him.

Warnings: mention of vomit, swearing, mention of underaged drinking

Word Count: 2.3k

Masterlist

Send an ask to be added to my taglist!

[GIF CREDIT TO OWNER]

“Alright big boy, lets get you ready for bed,” you said as you flung open the door to the Chateau, John B hanging off your body. The poor boy could barely stand, let alone get himself ready for bed, so you decided to do it for him. You and John B have been friends since the fifth grade, and he trusted you with everything he had, and it’s not like you hadn’t taken care of him before when he’s blown past his limit. When you saw him doubled over by a log, vomiting up his stomach, you took the liberty of cutting his night short.

You plopped John B down on the toilet seat lid, emitting a groan from him. He passed his stage of giddy, happy drunk, and was now in the everything in the world is dark and horrible and my head feels like it’s about to explode stage, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he vomited again. You picked up the trash can off the floor and put it in his lap, just in case. He rested his chin on the rim, the weight on his head being lifted off his neck. You grabbed his toothbrush, ran water over it, squeezed some toothpaste on it, and ran water over it again.

“Open,” you commanded as you bent down to his level. John B complied, allowing you to brush his teeth. He closed his eyes, the light in the bathroom getting to be too much for his state.

“Yo! Y/N?” JJ arrived home from the party, his voice booming through the house, which made John B groan through the toothpaste foaming in his mouth.

“In here,” you said, your voice much softer than JJ’s. But it wasn’t soft enough, as John B slapped your upper arm, groaning again. You heard JJ’s boots against the wood floor, making their way to the bathroom.

“Now why does he get special treatment,” JJ whined as he took in the scene in front of him. He leaned up against the door frame, relieving his legs of his weight.

“Hmm, because he’s better looking than you,” you joked, causing a chuckle to come from both boys.

“Whatever, I’ll see y’all in the morning.” JJ yawned, his arms stretching over his head. You heard him flop onto the pullout, and his snores came soon after.

“Spit,” you instructed once you were done brushing John B’s teeth. He did, and you filled up a dixie cup for him to rinse his mouth out with. Once he was done, you picked the trash can from his lap and placed it back on the floor.

“Alright, c’mon bubba,” you soothed. John B slowly stood up, his legs almost immediately giving out on him. Your grip on his waist tightened, as did his on your shoulders. You guys slowly made your way to his room, careful not to wake the sleeping boy on the pullout. Once you made it to John B’s room, he practically flung himself out of your grasp and onto his bed. You closed his door after him, applying opposing pressure in order to ensure it wouldn’t make any noise. John B was having no trouble snuggling into bed, his eyes already closed, his breathing even. You smiled a little bit at your handy work.

“Alright, good night, bub,” you whispered as your headed for the door.

“Nooo,” you heard from the lump of blankets and pillows.

“Stay,” John B pouted as he made grabby hands towards you. You raised your brows in question before ultimately deciding to hop into bed next to him.

“Good night, Y/N,” John B whispered, cuddling into your side.

“Whatever. Get some sleep,” you said, slightly annoyed with his drunken antics. John B was out like a light once he really got settled in. The alcohol in his body was winding down to nothing, and he just wanted the night to end. You finally found your peace when you heard John B’s light snores, lulling you to sleep for the night.

-

“Hey! Wake up! We’re meeting Pope and Kie at The Wreck!” JJ trumpeted through the shack, and when he didn’t get the usual early morning grunt or groan in response, he became nervous.

“Y/N? John B?” he tried one more time. He went to check the spare room, where he thought he would find you, and when he didn’t, he practically busted the door down to John B’s room.

“JJ, what the hell?” you questioned as you woke, John B waking beside you, groaning at the bothersome wakeup call.

JJ was frozen in the doorframe, his eyes and mouth wide open at the sight. He didn’t want to process the scene in front of him, but he knew what he saw. He saw you, a pretty girl, in John B’s bed, which could only mean one thing.

“Um,” he stammered, trying to get his brain the formulate his longer-than-gone thoughts.

“Breakfast at The Wreck, get ready.” He hastily turned on his heel and slammed the door shut, leaving you and John B confused at your friend’s abnormal behavior. JJ stormed out of the house and made his way to the hammock.

He expected this day come, the day the girl he loved would chose his best friend over him, but he never expected it would hurt this much. He’d always been used to John B getting almost everything compared to JJ. John B got the good rep, the loving father, and now, the girl, while JJ got shit handed to him. He was sick of it all, but there wasn’t much he could really do about it, except block it all out with drugs, alcohol, and sex. They numbed his feelings, and it was easier to feel nothing than to feel everything, at least according to JJ’s book. He knew what he was doing wasn’t healthy, but honestly, he didn’t give a shit. And now that he had for sure lost you, he saw no point in stopping.

“Hey,” you yelled as you walked out the door. Your voice pulled JJ out of his head.

“Let’s go.” He got up from the hammock and followed you and John B to the van, the slight of you two together again hurting him more.

JJ was sat quietly in the back, while you and John B shared glances, silently asking each other what was up with your usually talkative friend. You figured it was the usual stuff, one of his many odd jobs had skimped out on a paycheck, or he had run out of weed, so you decided not to press. He’ll get over it soon, you thought. Nothing to worry about.

-

“Hey guys!” Kie welcomed from the table you guys had claimed as yours. Pope was with her, sitting by her side. You sat down next to her, John B across from you and JJ next to him.

After many friendly banters and enough food eaten to keep your bellies full for a lifetime, JJ’s face was still long. You thought good friends and good food would lift JJ’s spirits, but he still felt down. You weren’t the only one to notice though, as Pope reached around Kie to lightly flick your arm, and nodded his head in JJ’s direction. You shrugged your shoulders, telling him that you didn’t know what was up with the out-of-sorts boy.

“So, JJ,” Pope started.

“I saw you talking to that touron last night. That go anywhere?” JJ chuckled at his question, the drunken memories coming back to him. The girl threw her drink in his face and stormed off when he said something raunchy.

“Uh, yeah actually,” he said with a smirk.

“Took me back to her condo, heated toilet seats and all.” Your friends groaned at the added detail, throwing their napkins at him. You on the other hand, were twiddling your thumbs in your lap, your chest heavy with heartache. JJ looked to you to see if his plan had worked, and he saw the results he was hoping for, but he wasn’t satisfied with himself. His stomach dropped when he realized he’d hurt you, but he decided to brush it off. You’d just hurt him earlier this morning, so now you were even.

You shouldn’t have been this hurt by JJ’s words. You knew he hooked up with girls all the time, and each time he brought it up it delivered a little pang to your heart. It hurt knowing that JJ chose every other girl on the island over you, so you decided to shelter your feelings from him. You decided you were never going to tell JJ about how you felt, because it was obvious he didn’t feel the same way, because if he did, he wouldn’t be wasting his time with tourists he’ll never see again.

JJ’s attention was diverted from you to the group of tourons that walked through the door. He recognized them, they were at the party last night. He remembered you talking to one of them last night. From what he could tell, you were getting pretty comfortable. He could see them looking at you, talking and laughing to themselves. JJ’s fuse was already pretty short on the day-to-day, and when he was in a bad mood, it was practically non-existent. Everyone’s eyes followed JJ as he shot up from the table and stomped up to the group of boys.

“Hey man,” one of the boys said nervously, judging JJ by his demeanor.

“What’s so funny,” JJ spat out. They didn’t respond.

“Huh!” He yelled, aching for an explanation. His fists were hard by his sides.

“Maybe you should teach your little girl how to handle her liquor, big guy,” one of them stepped forward, inviting JJ’s anger.

“Unless you want her going home with one of us. She was pretty close to it last night.” JJ lunged forward, not wanting to hear another word from his bitch mouth. He shoved the tourist to the ground, getting ready to beat the shit out of him in the middle of the restaurant. The altercation didn’t last very long, as John B and Pope pulled JJ off and the other tourists pulled off their friend. The tourists hurried out of the restaurant.

“What the hell was that!” You yelled, your previous feelings of remorse being overpowered by anger and concern. JJ looked to the rest of the group, deciding he didn’t want to do this in front of the rest of them. He grabbed your arm and lead you outside. It was still early in the morning, so nobody was around.

“I’m not your fucking responsibility, Y/N, so why do you even care!?” JJ yelled, matching your tone. You stayed silent for a moment, all your emotions catching up to you at once. Anger, hurt, frustration, longing, love, all of it taking over.

“Why do you sleep with them?” You asked, your voice subdued, afraid that if you talked any louder that your voice would crack and reveal all that you felt.

“What?” He snapped, still resentful. You looked up at him, letting him see the tears pricking at your eyes. You weren’t afraid to show him anymore.

“Why do you waste your time on stuck up little tourists, when I’m right here! When I love you!” You were taken aback by your own words, and so was JJ.

“No you don’t,” he said, letting out a small angry laugh. He looked down and wiped his eyes. There was no going back now.

“What are you talking about? Yes I do, JJ.” You reached up to put your hand on his shoulder, but he moved away from you. He looked back up to you, tears moving steady down his face, with no signs of stopping.

“Then why did you sleep with him, huh? My best friend, Y/N!” He was back to yelling. Anger seemed to be the only way he knew how to feel in emotional situations. He was pacing now.

JJ’s words confused you. You didn’t sleep with his best friend, you didn’t sleep with anyone.

“What are you talking about?” Your voice was much softer than his.

“Oh don’t play fucking stupid, Y/N! You were in his bed this morning,” he pointed his finger at you, and you had to fight everything in your head telling you to smack it away.

It finally clicked, your eyes widening at the realization.

“JJ,” you said as softly as you could, trying to calm him down.

“No,” he cut you off.

“Don’t try to apologize, Y/N. I know what I saw.” His voice was quieter now, his body tired of the fighting.

“I didn’t sleep with him, JJ,” you said sharply. He looked at you quizzically. You softened when you took in his tender expression.

“He was drunk, and you know how he gets when he’s drunk. He gets all dependent and needy. I was just taking care of him.” You reached out for his hands, and he didn’t move away from you this time. He couldn’t meet your gaze.

“Promise?” He whispered.

“Yes, JJ, I promise. Nothing else happened.”

“No,” he looked up to you, his face wet with tears.

“Promise that you love me?” His eyes were pleading, begging that what you said was true.

“Yes,” you nodded frantically.

“I love you, JJ.”

Everything he had ever hopped for was now his, and he couldn’t wait any longer. He took your face in his hands, wiping away your tears, before he smashed his lips onto yours. The kiss was full of everything you and JJ had been missing out on. Passion, excitement, love. You didn’t want to let go.

“I love you, too” JJ whispered as he broke away for air, a smile spreading across his face. You rested your foreheads together, holding each other close.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I was being a dick,” he muttered.

“It’s okay,” you gave him a small smile before pressing your lips together again.

You made a promise to JJ. You promised to love him and care for him, and he did you. You both had been yearning for each other for so long, and now you finally had each other, fears, doubts, and everything else stopping you out of the way.

Taglist: @supremestarkey @lovelymaybankk @blueeyedbesson @whormotional @classywaves @sexytholland @danaerekat @em753 @babyhoneystvles @angelic-boca @milked-down-coffee @dolanfivsosxox @sunwardsss @leekah

[tangledinmdzs]

always yours - yi city mdzs characters hcs

the last of the best friend series head canons!

this is a modern version (stay tuned for a different version (v^ー°) )

»»——⍟——««

Xiao Xingchen

stepping into high school, you’ve always felt out of your depth

both from the pressure of moving to a new town and entering another stage of education in your life

it was kind of intimidating

mildly stressful

and you know it shouldn’t be much of a bother to try and fit in and find your crowd

because good things take time (as your parents have reminded you)

and that you were such a lovable person, so

who wouldn’t want to be your friend?

but it still didn’t change the fact that it was hard, nonetheless

luckily, when you’re kind of floating about in between the crowds of people and laughter in the first lunch of your first year, see an empty seat for you to snag

considering how crowded the lunch room was, you feel quite proud of yourself

so you sit down at the spot without a second thought

not even realizing that the seat in front of your empty one was occupied

you’re digging heartily, halfway through your sandwich, when you realize that someone is looking at you

and that’s when you meet Xingchen, immediately humored by your enthusiasm with food 

definitely not one of your best first impressions

but it’s surely something that sticks

because aside from finding out that you both are in the same grade, you both have a plethora of classes together as well

and it becomes easy for you to find a familiar face to gravitate to in your classes

throughout the year

he’s the person that saves you a seat in the cafeteria whenever the teacher from the previous class lets you out late

you’re the person that shares your notes with him in class so that you both can be caught up

you’re each other’s first choice as partners

and it’s so so easy being friends with someone as lovely and wonderful as Xingchen

and he’s so great in everything

from his smarts

to his genuine kindness

and you know that he deserves the world

which is why

your world comes to a halting stop

when Xiao Xingchen is suddenly blinded after an accident

luckily he’s not fully blind

but his vision is heavily impaired 

and you know that your high school is not the right environment for him safety and social wise

you know it is for the best that his parents are making plans to find a better accommodating school for him

but...

he’s your only, truest, friend, 

and it’s only been a short while since you both have met

but you can’t imagine going through the last remaining two years high school without 

and as you sit next to his hospital bed, feel his warm hand clutch yours

you think that 

he feels the same

»»——⍟——««

A-Qing

you meet A-Qing as you’re helping Xiao Xingchen around the your high school, helping him to orient in an old place through a new perspective

you can’t lie and say that it’s not frustrating

but Xingchen’s always been more patient than you

even now, 

when you were supposed to be helping him

it saddens you sometimes

when you can’t be of more help to him than you currently are

“i think this would be pretty useful,” 

both you and Xingchen startle at the voice that talks to you both

your eyes find a young girl, probably a freshman, staring up at you

her hand holds out a small foldable stick

“it’s a white cane, it’ll help him feel out the floor better than you saying ‘watch out’ every other minute” the girl notes

“he can still see,” you try to correct, because everyone nowadays just assumes that Xingchen is fully blind... and he just accepts it like he accepts everything in his life-

“oh, i’ve never tried a cane before. i think that could be of help,” Xingchen says in his quiet voice, he turns to you though not fully enough to meet your eyes staring at him

you’ve gotten more used to his profile than his full face as of recently

“can you give it to me, y/n” Xingchen asks you, 

and he’s using that voice with you

the ‘be patient, let’s try it’ voice

you manage a stiff nod at the girl, and take the white cane from her and open it from Xingchen

we you place the handle that he’s supposed to hold in his palm, Xingchen as polite as ever says,

“thank you... um...”

“A-Qing,” the girl finally introduces and then turns to you, a half smile on her face

“and you’re y/n,” the young girl parrots from what she heard before

you nod at her, a small ‘thank you’ coming from you too

‘it’s no problem. my grandma is blind so i understand you too,” A-Qing says 

at that, you realize, that it would be good to befriend someone that has experience in helping visually impaired people

because you wanted to learn how to help Xingchen better

you friendship starts from Xingchen’s hardships

but as you three spend more time together,

the difficulties of his life lessen

especially with A-Qing’s support

you two become his two closest friends

and A-Qing morphs more into a little sister to you

because for all of her knowledge with Xingchen’s situation, she was still very very new to the high school situation

so she relied on your guidance (in that aspect) as much as you relied on her to help you help Xingchen

but you three come together like a sandwich

and all is well

until your third year of high school

when trouble comes in the form of a human person

»»——⍟——««

Xue Yang 

trouble goes by the name of Xue Yang

your high school is relatively medium sized so you think that if you haven’t met everyone yet at least you know of most people

but 

when you walk into the hallway at the sight of someone taunting Xingchen, you can’t help the way your blood boils

A-Qing is still young,

and the boy that’s flicking and pushing at Xingchen’s calm shoulder looks to be about your age, an junior

you’re about to intervene when you’re surprised at Xingchen’s quick handed grasp of the man’s hand when it lands on his chest for the third (and final time)

Xingchen holds the wrist tightly

and you remember that before, a short while ago, Xingchen used to do material arts after school

he probably never forgot his instincts, having practiced for so many years

“what do you think you’re doing?” 

at the sound of your voice, the boy spares you a glance, 

and then you give a short sigh under your breath

because it was Xue Yang

it was always Xue Yang

“just chatting with your boyfriend, y/n. no need to go all mama bird” Xue Yang teases and takes his hand roughly out of Xingchen’s grasp

“he’s not my boyfriend,” you correct Xue Yang, going up to Xingchen’s side to stare Xue Yang down

Xue Yang laughs, humorlessly 

“you sure about that? because i think you’re probably babying him even more than his real mother,” and you really want to land a good fist to Xue Yang’s face

but Xingchen’s true testament to your friendship is that he just knows you well enough to reach a hand out and hold your wrist, hold you back from doing anything rash

because your little convo with Xue Yang had already grabbed enough of a crowd

you let Xiao Xingchen and A-Qing lead you away, though you manage to spare a long glare at Xue Yang before he fully leaves your sight

from then on, you all try to avoid Xue Yang as best as you can

and you stay closer to A-Qing and Xiao Xingchen

because it seems like you’re Xue Yang repellent

he only bothers the other two when you’re not within the vicinity 

and you don’t dare think that Xue Yang is scared of you (Xue Yang isn’t scared of anything)

but it’s a little blessing that you’re grateful for

you don’t want anyone making Xingchen’s life harder than it already was

and you think that you can get through the last few months of junior year without trouble

well you hope

but one memorable time that trouble visits you

is in the turn spring

right before you you’re about to finish your junior year (practically already a senior in high school)

Xue Yang catches your arm when you’re on your way out of school after your free block

drags you to the bleachers despite your protests 

you glare at him, 

he stares at you, sighs

“what?” you ask

“you don’t care about anything that has to do with us do you?”

you sigh as you lean your back on the edges of the bleacher seats

“why do you put your friends before us all the time?”

“because he needs me-”

“more than i do?”

Xue Yang’s question surprises you, slightly

but you regain your composure quickly

“talk to me again when you learn that a relationship has friends and partners,

not everything in life is about you” 

and that’s the final time you talk to him

»»——⍟——««

Song Lan

Song Lan comes back into your life as abruptly as he had left it

he had always been more of Xingchen’s friend than yours

you remember him being introduced to you as the quiet, barely smiling but loyal friend that Xingchen knew from way back

he and you never talked much

but he talked a lot with Xingchen

and you could tell that the both of them were close

they made each other happy

which was why his abrupt exit from high school

at the time where Xingchen needed him the most

was difficult for you to understand

though at the same time

his departure gave you a better chance to prove your friendship to Xingchen

to be the person that was there for him when it seemed like no one was

and you think that the chapter of old friendships had closed when you graduated high school

so you didn’t think you’d ever see Song Lan again

let alone, see him in your second year of college in the middle of your campus walk with Xingchen’s arm linked with yours 

“y/n? why’d you stop? we’re going to be late for class”

and now, with Xingchen fully blind

you were somewhat the eyes for him when it came to new places and people

A-Qing was still in her final year of high school, already planning on following your footsteps and applying to the same college as you guys

so it was all left to you

how do you explain to XIngchen that you just saw his best friend that had left him in high school all those years ago without so much as a goodbye?

should you even let him know?

luckily, you don’t have to make the choice

when Song Lan turns and walks away immediately, not looking back

“it’s nothing, i was just startled when a squirrel ran past,” you lie to Xingchen

and continue walking on the path that you both are on

but Xingchen knows you better than yourself

and he can tell that your grip around his arm is a bit tighter than before

but he doesn’t mention anything

~~~

fate would have it that that was not the last encounter that you have with Song Lan

and the next time you do see him, you don’t let him off the hook so easily

“where did you go? how are you here now?” you ask him, when you manage to latch onto his arm at the small campus cafe 

he takes his wrist out of your grasp easily

though his face looks slightly more expressive than you remember he used to be

“how’s Xingchen?” he counters with you and you huff out an exasperated laugh

“you wouldn’t need to ask me that if you had been there for us,” you find yourself saying

because you can still remember, vividly

the first few weeks of Xingchen’s blindness

his embarrassment towards you where you know he wouldn’t have been with Song Lan

and how much he missed him

“do you... do you think i can see him?” Song Lan asks, a beat after your heavy comment

you truly wonder what Xiao Xingchen would have to say to this

because you may be his best friend

but you can’t make his decisions for him

“i don’t know, why don’t you ask him,” you tell Song Lan, then tilt your head

when Song Lan turns around, he sees the person who he’s looking for right away

Xiao Xingchen is hard to miss

Song Lan stares

now it all comes down to, whether or not he would take the first step to him or not

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate (Ch 9)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous Chapter: Red Strings of Fate

Next Chapter: Invisible Ties

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, please mention it in the comments below ty <3

Chapter 9: Wait for Me

After the mission, you got back to the Kyoto High School campus. Both of you were still a little awkward, not knowing exactly how to proceed with your relationship. Are you dating now? Not necessarily.

Noritoshi reached out to you from behind, but thought better and retracted his hand. You seemed to have zoned out for the rest of the mission, so he thought it would be better to give you a bit of space.

You both were outside your dorm room after having submitted the report about how the mission went.

You turned back to face Noritoshi, “Thank you so much for accompanying me on my first ever mission senpai. It was definitely a different experience from just sparring with other jujutsu sorcerers. I’ll do my best to improve.”

You lowered your head, but he bent his knees so he could face you, “You definitely have talent and raw power. Please be more logical in your tactical and in-fight responses next time. Thank you for protecting me.” He spoke quietly so as to not disturb the other students who are already in bed.

You smiled tightly, “Just… doing my job.”

You looked up to face him. There was something cloudy and stormy in his expression that you couldn’t quite read.

He was such a hard man to read, Kamo Noritoshi. Now that you think about it, you really don’t know much about the man who is your soulmate.

Noritoshi pulled back with his usual solemn expression. “You should go on ahead and get some rest. Good night.”

“Good night Noritoshi senpai.” You weakly called out, before going back into your room. Your heart had never pounded this hard and fast before, you were sure. You had trouble going to sleep that night, remembering the second vision you both shared.

On the other hand Noritoshi’s head was spinning by the time he got back into his room. He could still feel the ghost of the kiss from the vision and wondered how it would feel to hold you close to him like that.

◇◇◇

During the weekend, Noritoshi went back to the Kamo Clan estate and told his father of everything that had occurred between the two of you. As soon as he finished his father softly slammed down a fist on his desk out of excitement.

“It’s been how many years since the last known living pair of soulmates existed? They were so highly regarded that most pairs chose to live in complete isolation out of fear of being targeted. We need to be careful, but this is truly a blessing from the heavens.” His father smiled.

Noritoshi’s dad pushed a book towards him. “We were able to find a very old record of soulmates from our clan’s history. Kamo no Hotaru. A man who lived quietly, after eloping with his soulmate away from the Kamo clan. His partner was said to be a woman from the Abe clan. They supposedly died in battle, according to records. This happened during the rise of curses right before the Heian era.” His father spoke solemnly.

Noritoshi felt chills run up his spine upon hearing his words. “The woman’s name is unknown. But her parents were known to have not approved of her involvement with Hotaru kun. This was as written in the diary entries of Hotaru. Curses and curse users alike were drawn towards their synergy and tried to break them apart or at least kill one of them.”

“They might have survived had they stayed with their families, but they chose love above all. Back then it was not yet widely known about how soulmates’ offsprings could have a power far greater than their parents’, but now we do. But even apart from that, a soulmate bond is said to make both halves grow stronger. So make sure that you don’t let go of her. Charm her and make sure she stays with you. A stronger bond will give you strength as a Jujutsu sorcerer.” His father orders him.

The words were swimming in Noritoshi’s head. But… “If it’s simply falling for her and making her fall for me, it should come naturally with time father. To be frank, I’ve been attracted to her since our first meeting. I will do my best.” Noritoshi said firmly.

◇◇◇

Days after your first mission, Noritoshi’s words from your first mission together still bothered you. It was so dumb on your part. “You don’t know me.” Those words just kept repeating in your mind. It wasn’t wrong.

Make no mistake, Noritoshi didn't mean to offend you at all. From his point of view, he only wanted you to tell him the real reason as to why you saved him without thinking of your actions. He didn't mean to hurt you with his words.

You tried to let it go, knowing that he was just extra worried at that time. But to be honest, it was something that still hung over you. You wished to know him better, not only as a soulmate, but also as a friend.

Everytime Noritoshi came around you and greeted you hello, your heart would tighten just a bit. He could start to feel the weighted heaviness on your soul that he didn't realize was yours via the bond.

He simply thought that he was also feeling down for no reason. It was a long way, distinguishing whose emotions were whose, as the bond is still so fresh between the two of you.

And so he gave his mother a call and scheduled a meetup with her.

“Hello? Mother. Yes, I am well. How are you? …. That’s good to hear. Are you free this weekend? …. Nothing really, I just wanted to see you. …. Yes, me too. …. All is going well here at school, you don’t have to worry I promise. … Yes father is okay. …. Thank you, I’ll see you this Saturday then. Goodbye.” Beep.

◇◇◇

In the following weeks, Noritoshi had been incredibly busy to say the least. He was finally getting promoted to a semi grade 1 as long as he does well in his next mission.

His father was constantly reminding him to make sure he makes you fall in love with him as his soulmate, and hurry it up so that the rest of the clan can meet you already. And he just really wanted to see his mother.

One afternoon you tried to cheer him up after noticing his bad moods. You made senpai some coffee and brought him pastries in your free time.

You sent him a text saying you had something for him. He replied that you could stay for a bit in his room.

“Pardon my intrusion!” You called out as you went in. The door was left unlocked for you. “Come in.” Noritoshi looked up tiredly. His eyes had heavy bags and he looked so exhausted.

“I’m sorry to be bothering you. I just brought some coffee and pastries here so that you can regain a bit of energy senpai.” you whispered, not wanting to be too loud for him.

“It’s not a bother. I’ve just been swamped with so much work as of the late.”

"Senpai, have you… considered getting a bit of rest first? The TOEIC is still a long way to go." You stared at the papers that read "TOEIC 990" stacked on top of his desk.

"I have other matters I’m attending to. Family business and other missions." He grunted while continuing to write down on his paper. He was definitely stressed and overworked.

Maybe he needed someone, like a family member. You tried to empathize with him, "I see. Have you heard from your mom and dad lately? I also understand if you're feeling homesick, I feel the same…" You trailed off upon seeing his face tighten at the mention of his mother.

Your heart dropped.

"That's none of your business." He whispered coldly without thinking.

Fuck y/n. You stepped on a landmine.

You inhaled sharply, backing away. “Ah, I’m so sorry to be intruding. I stepped out of bounds. Please get as much rest as you need.”

You quickly excused yourself from his room feeling so confused from his sudden cold demeanour.

Noritoshi reached out to you, “Wait! I didn’t-” but you already closed his door and stumbled out of his room faster than he could react.

He gave a deep sigh, not meaning to offend you or anything. He just wasn’t in the mood to be around anyone else, and that included you at the moment.

He was just feeling stressed, because he had to cancel his meetup with his mother since his father demanded to talk with him about other clan matters.

He groaned out in frustration. “I’ll have to talk and apologize to her later.” He noticed a heavy and sharp tugging at his heart. He dropped his pen in surprise and stared at his chest in confusion.

"This… these aren't my emotions…" it dawned on him finally. Finally, you both are starting to share very strong bursts of emotion.

Pain and sorrow. Your emotions washed over him like a tidal wave, so sudden that he didn't realize tears were running down one side of his left eye.

He felt guilt and regret like never before.

◇◇◇

A strong wave of regret and guilt stabbed through you. You were pretty sure that these were Noritoshi's emotions.

You finally started feeling something from his end, but you just felt heavy. Was it supposed to be tiring to be a fated pair? Or was it just the bond that was messing up both of your emotions?

You couldn’t even ask anyone else for help, because currently there are no known living soulmates. Besides you and Noritoshi that is.

◇◇◇

The next time you met each other, it was a bit awkward. You tried to give him space during the past few days, understanding that it must be what he needed.

After all, he didn't seem too keen on the way you tried to connect with him last time. You probably overstepped your boundaries. It's true, even though you're soulmates, you're still just friends at this stage.

But Noritoshi found himself looking for you. Trying to catch you in his free time, he finally found you in the weaponry, training with your twin blades.

He stared at your figure. You looked like you were dancing rather than fighting. Smaller daggers controlled by your cursed energy flew around you, covering for any blind spots.

They came to a halt as you set them down and deactivated your technique.

"May I help you Noritoshi senpai?" You asked without turning to look at him. He felt his throat tighten up.

"I came to apologise." Your fingers twitched as though itching to throw your dagger at him. But of course you would never.

"Ahhh, it's okay, Noritoshi senpai. I'm sorry for rudely not minding my own business. Even though we might be soulmates, you're not my boyfriend. We are just good friends aren't we?" You said as you finally turned to face him.

‘Set the boundaries and define the relationship’, you thought to yourself.

Every word you said felt like you were pushing the needle deeper in your heart. It hurt, and you both knew it.

He stepped towards you, standing inches away and shaking his head. "I took out my anger and stress on you, and that was wrong of me. I'm sorry. I do care about you deeply, and you're much more than a friend. You are a very special person to me.``

"Don't say words you don't mean Noritoshi senpai. Please." Your heart was slowly crumbling. He looked pained. "I am not lying. Please believe me.”

But you shook your head and stood your ground. You could feel a fraction of his emotions at this stage of the bond. And you knew in your heart that he was just as confused as you are, trying to feel his way into this relationship.

Noritoshi’s father’s words echoed in his head, ‘Don’t let her go.’

"Don't be unfair to me y/n. If I need time I need it. And I will surely fall for you. If you need time, I’ll also give it to you." He whispered out urgently. "We have a lifetime together."

How did he always sound so sure of himself? Of the future for both of you? You looked back up at him with teary eyes. It sounded so wrong, like he was forcing himself to love you just for the sake of the bond. Does that even count...

"To be honest with you, I don't know what to feel right now senpai." Your voice cracked. His heart broke upon seeing you like this. But nothing can be done.

Does the knowledge of a soulbond always bring a pair together or does it doom two people who are not yet ready to love?

"Wait for me." He promised as he took your hands in his and looked you in the eyes. Your marks felt warm.

You finally felt yourself calm down. And it was so frustrating that you're becoming so dependent on him, turning to him for physical affection. He was the cause of your sorrows and joys altogether.

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

[krispyweiss]

Todd Rundgren at MGM Northfield Park, Northfield, Ohio, Nov. 7, 2021

Todd Rundgren flipped A Wizard, A True Star and played side two of his shaped-in-studio-trickery 1973 album to close the second of two - vaccine- negative-COVID-test-mandatory - shows at Northfield Park outside Cleveland.

Seeming miles away from the casino just feet away, Rundgren and his band (Utopia co-founder/bassist Kasim Sulton; Bobby Strickland [woodwinds, keys, percussion]; latter-day Utopian keyboardist Gil Assayas; former Tubes drummer Prairie Prince; and masked guitarist Jesse Gress, who is in terrific form despite a recent lung transplant) finished what they started the previous evening.

As on Nov. 6’s Wizard portion, the Nov. 7 True Star second half featured the band in white formal wear as Rundgren dressed as a homeless man for “Sometimes I Don’t Know What to Feel;” in an orange getup for the soul medley of “I’m So Proud” -> “Ooh Baby Baby” -> “La La Means I Love You” -> “Cool Jerk;” and as a chef with food and faux drugs he tossed into the audience on “Hungry for Love.”

An ounce of sweet Jamaican/a snowy spoon of powder/a half a pint of Bushmill's/nothing gets you high when you're hungry for love, he sang as he tossed goodies under his ass and into the audience.

Sulton took a turn in the spotlight, singing “Does Anybody Love You” while Rundgren changed clothes. And Strickland became a hype man/preacher leading the faithful to praise Todd! on a long “Cool Jerk” coda that had the mostly full house - but less so than Saturday night - on its feet and enraptured.

The bliss continued for a spooky “I Don’t Want to Tie You Down” with Rundgren enshrouded in smoke and Center Stage lit up in blues, reds and greens. And the celebratory theme hit its apex on the Utopian National Anthem, aka “Just One Victory” as performers and fans became one for a few minutes.

The night - peppered with standing ovations - opened with a 17-song, 85-minute first set that focused on the most-popular tracks from Rundgren’s 1960’s (Nazz’s “Open My Eyes” and “Hello it’s Me”) and 1970s songbooks.

(Only the encore - “Ev’rybody” - reached into the 21st century, or, indeed, beyond 1979).

Though the setlist was identical to the previous evening, the performance was not. Rundgren’s banter including him asking a group of talkative fans if he was interrupting them, but said if there was an emergency, he could call Travis Scott.

“Too soon,” a concertgoer yelled.

“I know, I know,” the Wizard replied before moving on.

Looser and less precise, the music was also more powerful as Gress and Rundgren - in fantastic, powerful voice even for a dude who’s not 73 - refused to play solos the same way twice.

“I Think You Know” was ethereal. “Black Maria” was balls-to-the-wall, Rundgren wailing at the mic and on his windmill-thrashed guitar, “Foamy,” which represented every guitar he’s ever owned and spoke to Rundgren like a ventriloquist’s dummy as the singer talked about his career, which includes ballads like “It Wouldn’t Have Made Any Difference” and “Too Far Gone” - both played - no self-respecting guitar could love.

“An Elpee’s Worth of Tunes,” meanwhile, was a comedic Broadway mission statement as images of Rundgren’s LPs - solo, Nazz, Utopia, production work for Meat Loaf, Patti Smith, XTC et. al - shone on screens that flanked the stage. Strickland soloed like a madman with a sax throughout “Fair Warning.” And “A Dream Goes on Forever” was a reminder to keep the faith.

This opening salvo was an important reminder that an identical setlist doesn’t equal an identical show.

Grade card: Todd Rundgren at MGM Northfield Park - 11/7/21 - A

See more photos on Sound Bites’ Facebook page.

11/8/21

[hatchetfieldtheories]

melissa and nora went enemies to lovers

Part Five of the CCRP Boss Melissa series? Don't mind if I do. Links to the previous parts of this are in my pinned post.

Sure, they know CCRP is dodgy. Most residents of Hatchetfield are vaguely aware CCRP are not just some vague corporate building, doing some vague corporate stuff. Too much weird stuff goes on there. But for the most part, the citizens of Hatchetfield have enough going on, and they turn a blind eye - if it isn't hurting them, it can't be anything bad. Right?

What the people of this small town aren't aware of however, is that its not the only shady business around them. They should really cotton on to it - no-one ever goes to Beanies for the coffee - the coffee is awful, the baristas either rude or off in their own worlds, and sometimes they just sang at you, which to be honest, was mildly disturbing. Yet it was almost always full. Full of business men, who, though regulars in the town, none of the residents could place their faces.

This is becoming quite long - more under the cut

Six years ago, Nora was excelling in her molecular biology class at college. Always in the top two students, and always with her hand up, eager to answer all the questions the professor threw at them.

The issue was the other top student in the class. Melissa.

They were always vying for the top grade in class assignments, and to firmly get on Nora's last nerve, she never saw Melissa do any work. She was never in the library, she never answered questions in class, and she always seemed a bit surprised when the professor reminded them to hand their assignment in at the end of the day. Yet, each time, the top two grades belonged to them - and sometimes Melissa was number 1.

Melissa equally hated Nora. The campus busybody, always poking into her business trying to find out what she was up to.

"Why don't you ever work in the library."

I don't think what I'm working on is particularly library friendly.

"Mind your own business."

It carried on like this the rest of the year. Nora working her ass off and never seeing Melissa doing anything. Them arguing and yelling at each other for the most trivial of things, usually prompted by Melissa scoring a superior grade, or Nora almost finding out too much about Melissa's secret life.

Thank god, they both thought, as soon as I graduate I won't have to see her anymore.

---

Four years ago, Melissa had been in the planning stages of CCRP. She had the plans down - create a vague business model, something solid enough to not raise questions, but simple enough that it wouldn't need a very big on the ground work force, once well established, hire the right scientists for the experiments.

She was looking through her paperwork, looking at the list of hires - people she had been informed knew the work - and wouldn't question the... ethics... of it - when a name jumped out at her. She hadn't met with any of the hires - she had people to run her ship for her, choosing instead to be the faceless boss. But she may just break that rule for this employee.

"So, you're the one running this morally dubious operation?"

"You spent all that time back at college wondering what I was up to - do you feel better now you know?"

"Not particularly - why did you want to see me anyway? My understanding was the mysterious boss never saw any of their hired help."

Melissa smiled - "my plans are foolproof to ensure we will reach our goal. But..." she leaned towards Nora, as though scared someone would overhear them. "I am just a bit stuck on one last detail. Think of it like... a watch tower, I guess. I need someone out there, watching the residents, watching my workers, as well as being an inconspicuous place for my visitors to sit, and observe."

Her smile widened.

"Most importantly, I need someone I can trust running it."

---

"You want to turn Beanies into a singing coffee shop?"

"Yes."

"Ok, talk me through this one - how is a singing coffee shop inconspicuous?"

"That one you want to keep a close eye on - Peter... Patrick... Picasso?"

Melissa sighed at her partner. "Paul."

"Him. I watched him when our student baristas performed the songs from one of their musicals outside the shop last week. He looked terrified."

Nora had been in her element. She had joined CCRP as a molecular biologist, and wasn't initially pleased when she essentially became a coffee shop owner instead, but she had found she had a knack for it. Plus, her work spying on the residents of Hatchetfield, and more recently, Paul, had meant that she got to have regular meetings with Melissa. Over the years those meetings had gone from strictly professional, to... well sometimes professional. When she looked at her partner, she found it hard to believe she once hated that brilliant mind. She grabbed her love's hand, turning it over in her own, an unconscious habit Melissa had noticed when Nora was particularly excited.

"All I'm saying - if you want to find out what makes him tick - stick him in a musical. Well, a musical coffee shop anyway."

Ask: Send me a ridiculous Hatchetfield Theory, and I will make it make sense... or turn it into an almost mini fic apparently.

[hansoulo]

your heart wears night armor

part 9 of ain’t it a gentle sound (the rolling in the graves)

pairing: Horacio Carrillo/f!Reader

word count: 3.7k

warnings: cursing, discussions canon-typical violence and blood, descriptions of religion, catholic imagery, and praying (it’s 2 paragraphs before the first break and you can just scroll past if you’re uncomfortable/don’t care to read it) uhh…, i think that’s it?? light angst but we kinda been knew at this point

gif credit: my soulmate @pascalplease​

A/N:  @1zashreena1 i owe u and that first day of school ask my life god bless 🙏🙏 set in like 1991 idk time isn’t real

masterlist carrd

Domesticity during war is a curious thing. You’d left your old apartment years ago and a man had moved in beside you, in your new, promoted house, with his young wife and her stomach swollen by pregnancy. You’d smiled and been neighborly. Teased about play-dates and dinner parties and tight-lipped husbands, the way you used to. Had actually gone to a dinner party and admired their blue-edged china, pouring out the woman’s sparkling water as Isabella grabbed at your wrists.

She’d moved out, alone save for her child and one gifted medal. He was very brave, apparently.

You weren’t surprised when a new couple came by a few months later.

So you lived your life, a good life, a happy one, shielded by shoulders and smiles and rough-hewn hands clasped in prayer. Receiving the good favor of a virgin mother, wearing a painted clay veil and balming men’s conscience. Good Catholic boys, who died in the name of a “something” and looked Saint Peter in the eyes when they met him again. Your good, Catholic man. Rosaries and holy water. Unholy blood. Stained cherry glass and crimson hands. Prayers and prayers and prayers, made by mothers and fathers and wives.

You had prayed, once. Had knelt at an altar and let the wood dig into your knees like a penance for a sin you didn’t remember committing but felt guilty for enjoying anyhow. You pleaded for one promise to keep him safe and thanked a nameless saint for your fortune, sated when you heard the slap of your sandals on marble and the echo of all your thoughts in the high, vaulted ceilings.

Guilt is strange. “Healing” in quotation marks is strange. You always hated the way people phrased it, as if one day you’d arrive someplace and get a lacquered button pinned to your shirt pocket reading a congratulations. Dr. Reyes hated it, too, and you’d smiled when she made some long-winded metaphor about journeys and life and cat posters. For now you were content with walking, one hand held and one hand holding, with white-knuckled palm promises and the warm, curled grasp of a child.

⫸ ——— ⫷

You gripped the car keys, feeling them dig into your palm as you tried to brush off the hand on the doorknob. “Horacio,” you let out, frazzled with all the rush of a January morning, anxious and tired from the previous day’s shift. You didn’t need to work today though, thank god . “I can take my own damn daughter to her first day of school.”

His hand left the door, only to snake loosely around your waist. When you only sighed, not pulling away, a rough thumb came to rub at the curve of your jaw and bid your gaze to meet his. She has your eyes, you’d once said. Dark and sloping, edged by black lashes. Bright. Gentle.

“No,” he said, apologetic but resolute.  “You can’t.”

“I can,” you repeated weakly to yourself, your own hand starting to loosen its hold around the cold rings of metal. “Horacio,” you whispered, shaking your head as his arms wrapped a bit tighter. “The guards, the- the guns. They scare her.”

His brows knitted together while you spoke, quiet as to not alarm Isabella - now a few months shy of six - sitting by the kitchen counter in a blue school skirt. She didn’t look up from her the contents of her backpack, so you continued. “I’m just- I’m tired, I guess,” you admitted with a small hitch in your voice, examining the angry red indents left in your palms. You let him shift you until you faced away from the door, tucked closer into his chest, and reached to fiddle with the silver buttons of his uniform while you spoke.“It’s bad enough that they’re always outside.”

You looked up to see Isabella clambering off of her chair with a scrape of its legs against your kitchen tiles. It’s first grade, she’d reminded you the night before in hurried Spanish while you brushed her hair, chiding her to sit still. She’d set out her uniform carefully, insisting on brightly colored hair clips and two tight braids. We can’t be late.

Your now-husband squeezed your shoulders and his lips were pursed - not in annoyance, but in concern. “Mi amor,” Horacio began, cupping the base of your neck and squeezing softly. Mi amor, he called you. A love. His love. Saccharine, maybe, to foreign ears but to him, to him it was doctrine.  You let out a shallow breath. “It’s too dangerous without them,” Horacio reminded you, the rough pad of his thumb tracing over your lips. “You know that.”

You closed your eyes, nodding into the lingering kiss left on your forehead. “Yeah, I know.” Smoothing away the pretend lint on his collar, you pressed your nose to his jaw before moving to step away, inhaling the soft scent of laundry and sandalwood soap. The arms around you loosened to let you go. “Doesn’t mean I like it though,” you mumbled, attempting petulance but failing when another kiss was placed on your cheek.

“We’ll be with her,” Horacio reminded you, his voice placating in your ear. “And it’s just Trujillo,” he assured. You perked up at the name and laughed when Isabella did likewise, her steps towards the both of you quick and echoing her new school shoes.

“Is he coming?” she asked, repeating the question in English and then Spanish again when neither of you answered quickly enough for her liking. Bouncing on the balls of her heels, Isabella tugged on the fabric of your pants with an urgency that seemed unfit for the slightness of her body. “Is he here? Is he going to drive us?”

You reached to smooth down the loose curls escaping from her braids and looked back behind you for confirmation, pleased to report in the affirmative when Horacio nodded.

She didn’t wait much longer for you to open the door, bounding down your front steps to meet the man now standing by a shelled vehicle, a tanned hand resting on the holster at his hip.

“The Jeep?” you asked, incredulous.

Horacio shrugged. “It’s bulletproof.”

“Right,” you answered slowly, watching Trujillo bend down to give the girl a hug. “And they couldn’t bulletproof, say, a minivan?” Horacio only chuckled, walking you down to the car, and you grew more serious.  “Thank you, though. For bringing him, and not the… cavalry, I guess.”

In sunlight, Horacio's eyes were lighter - edged by shadowed rings but pooling in deep, fractured amber. Apologetic. “It’s the least I could do,” he said.

Isabella glanced back towards the both of you and you caught the flash of a cellophane candy wrapper, accompanied by a no le digas a tu mamá when Trujillo slipped it in her pocket. Waving at you with an impish smile, the officer slid into the passenger seat.

“I heard that,” you called out. He raised his eyebrows, declaring his innocence, and said nothing more.

The weather was slow with its languid breezes, blanketing everything in the soft smell of baked clay and clear mountain air. In the distance, the first swells of morning traffic began their course.

Isabella climbed into the car (or tank, depending on who you asked) and helped you buckle her seatbelt. When you turned to meet the back of the man behind you,  you heard the girl plead, “Don’t kiss.”

When you asked why, she wrinkled her nose. “It’s gross.”

“You see us kiss all the time,” you replied, handing her her backpack. Horacio’s hand came to pass gently along your waist, a quiet reminder of the openness of the road you now stood on.

Isabella shook her head, the dark braids tumbling beside her rounded cheeks. “It’s still gross.”

“How ‘bout you close your eyes,” you offered, leaning out of the car and hearing your husband’s quiet laugh. Catching Trujillo’s face in the reflection of the side mirrors, you grinned. “I can count down if you want.”

“Promise?” Isabella asked, raising her hands to cover her face.

“Promise,” you answered. “Are they closed? Good, okay on three. Ready? One… two… thr-” but your count was muffled, turning into a soft mmph by a pressing mouth. Horacio’s hands curling around the Jeep doors as you reached to steady yourself on his shoulders. The kiss was chaste, quick and barely a peck, but you still smiled when he pulled away.

Running your tongue along your front teeth, you could taste the slow dilution of orange juice.  “You can open them now,” you assured Isabella. The girl peeked out between her fingers and sighed in dramatic relief, letting her arms fall to her sides. “You too,” you said to the officer in the passenger seat. Trujillo only rolled his eyes in mild amusement, his gaze fixed firmly on a point far, far off in the distance.

Horacio pressed his lips against your temple once more before you moved to sit down, waiting until you’d done your own seatbelt to close the car door behind you. His boots scuffed heavy against the stoned street and you spoke to Isabella as he walked to the driver’s side. “One day, y’know, you might actually like kissing.”

She shook her head emphatically, her expression one of exaggerated disgust. “Never. Never ever.”

“Suit yourself,” you responded, moving to face the front windows to see your husband now at the steering wheel, his expression fighting to keep itself stern. “Y’know,” you added in a stage whisper, “your dad’s a very good kisser.”

“Gross!”

⫸ ——— ⫷

“I didn’t cry,” you said, shaking your head as Horacio opened the car door for you a few minutes after the first school bell rang. When he only hummed and Trujillo (now on the driver’s side) let out a barking laugh, you protested. “I didn’t!”

Horacio hid his unconvinced sincerity with a slow nod. You leant against the edge of the door when it shut, its hollow metal hot from the sun underneath your temples. Orange starbursts swam across your vision when you swiped quickly at your face with your knuckles. “I didn’t cry,” you maintained, feeling the rising stuffiness of your throat. “It’s allergies. I’m very- I’m very... pollen-sensitive.”

That was technically true - he'd bought you enough pink antihistamine tablets and tissues enough times to prove it - but you knew it wasn’t the cause of anything now. The reason for your swollen eyes was sitting in a real, grownup chair after two years of preschool and one year of kindergarten, a pencil case filled to the brim with bright, sparkly markers. At school.  

The car floor shifted under your feet when your husband turned back towards you, offering the polaroids he’d taken just moments earlier. “Do you want-”

“-yesthankyou-” you exhaled, grabbing the stack of photos from his hands. Spreading them out across your lap, you tried to swallow the lump in your throat. There was one of her getting out of the car… then her walking up to the front entrance... then another of her backpack, then of her shoes and Jesus, how many were there?

You flipped through the rest, scatterbrained and trying to commit every single picture to memory until something prompted your pausing. It was a picture of you.

He must’ve taken it while you weren’t paying attention, oblivious to the camera and turned away, but you were smiling. A bright, blinding smile that seemed to seep pure sunlight through the waxy white paper, up through your fingertips and back towards the swelling of your quickening heartbeat.

“That one,” Horacio said, taking the photograph from you and tucking it into the front pocket of his uniform. “Is for me.”

⫸ ——— ⫷

The engine rolled as the men parked. “Are you sure he’s here?” Javier asked, taking off his aviators to examine the row of terracotta houses, with their red-tile roofs and stucco walls. It was quiet in the mid-morning, temperate and warm. Medellín, the city of eternal spring,  was living up to its name.

Steve stuffed his government I.D (the only way they’d gotten through the gate) back into his pocket and adjusted the belt on his hips. “S’worth a shot. Wasn’t at the office, was he?”

“No,” Javier hummed, scanning the street with his arms crossed, his fingers curling into the fabric of his shirtsleeves. “No, he wasn’t.”

Neither of the men seemed to notice the officer parked beside the street, waiting for his colonel to retrieve some forgotten files before returning to the embassy.

They walked closer towards the house, stepping over a small tricycle that lay forgotten on the front lawn. Steve lowered his sunglasses. “You think it’s his?”

A low laugh escaped Javier’s chest and he shook his head, his steps meeting the front door. “Nah, he has a little girl. From his first wife.”

Somewhere in the house footsteps echoed with a soft voice, too muffled to make out anything beyond the fact that it was a woman. Steve looked back towards his partner, perplexed.

“Second wife,” Javier explained before ringing the doorbell. “Never met her, though.”

The steps grew louder until a pause, with the small peephole of the door waxing their reflections. Steve held up his badge again and stepped back when various locks unlatched until the door was opened, creaking quietly on its joints.  The first thing they saw was your arms, balancing a precarious stack of plastic toys while you nudged the door farther open with a struggling foot. Steve rushed forward to take some from your hands and you smiled back at him, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Sorry about that,” you breathed, setting the brightly colored books and toys on the floor beside you. “Caught me in the middle of cleaning up.” The men shared a quick look at each other, schooling their expressions from the slight shock created at your appearance. You were pretty and barefoot, sporting marker-stained jeans and a loose t-shirt. If they were expecting anyone, this definitely wasn’t it. “You’re DEA, right?”

Javier cleared his throat, elbowing the man beside him. Steve spoke up after a moment. “Yes ma’am. My name’s Agent Murphy, this man right here is Agent-”

“Oh!” you interrupted with a soft slap of your palm against your forehead, chiding yourself and opening the door farther. “Murphy? And Peña, right?”

They both nodded, albeit slowly, but you seemed impervious to their surprise, asking them if they wanted to come inside. The men declined and remained on the stoop, Steve realizing he still held a small rubber ball in his hands while Javier tried to keep his eyes above the scooped neck of your top.

“Was there something you needed?” you continued, bending down to kick out a rise in your runner carpet. “Horacio’s talked about you sometimes, y’know. It’s nice to actually put a face to the name.”

“Horacio?” Steve mumbled to Javier, his lips curling back in an amused, Southern cadence. A man - Colonel to them, or maybe just Carrillo, but Horacio to you - loomed near the edges of the hallway and turned closer when you spoke, his face and his voice familiar as it called out your name. “Speak of the devil,” the blonde agent whispered.

When you leant back into the man’s chest, both men quickly cleared their throats. Javier’s hands rested at his hips in a cocked stance, watching curiously as the colonel turned to whisper in your ear. The words were too quiet for anyone else to hear but you cast your eyes down, smiling to yourself before he pulled away.

You looked back up, the open brightness of your face only magnified when it was placed beside your husband’s stern posture. “I think they need you,” you reminded him. Javier confirmed this with some big lead about a “La Quica” and you bit back a snort at the nickname, pressing your lips together to hide your laugh. It must’ve been kismet, Javier thought, that brought someone like you to someone like him. Someone, he suddenly remembered, who worked in a hospital, witness and mender to the very things Carrillo caused. The man’s eyes were marginally softer here, though, and his hand lingered light on your waist. So maybe it worked.

“You’ll call later?” you asked, catching a soft grip on the colonel’s wrist when he moved to cross through the door. Steve glanced upwards when lips pressed quickly against your forehead, a quiet “of course” spoken into your hair before he walked away down the front steps.

“Surprised someone like that puts up with you,” Javier ribbed, bemused when Carrillo rolled his eyes.

Steve chuckled as they walked in steady tandem towards the parked cars. “Jealous?”

Javier hummed a casual maybe, catching the faint edge of a smile on your husband’s face when you looked out the front window, your silhouette a shadow through gauzy yellow curtains.

⫸ ——— ⫷

You leaned down to whisper in Isabella’s ear, encouraging her to take the few steps forward through the threshold of the office as she held a tall, disposable coffee cup. The rest that you’d brought were quickly put down before being taken by grateful men, their thanks muffled by the sound of lips on crinkling styrofoam. A man, the man you’d come to see, looked up to see you standing beside his desk, your frame edged by the evening light fracturing through the windows.

“You didn’t walk here, did you?” Horacio asked, his voice and his brow drawn over with concern. You lay a hand on his arm, a quiet placation as you rested your hip on a rounded wooden edge.

“I didn’t,” you glanced at the cluster of men on the other side of the room. You heard Isabella laugh, her small legs swinging back and forth as she was placed in a newly-emptied seat. “Hugo drove me.”

Horacio’s thumb traced over the slope of your wrist. “Hugo?”

“Pimienta,” you finished with another look towards the mass of dark green shoulders. “The new recruit.” Horacio nodded with a quiet I see and you give another smile, too observed to do much more. “He’s very sweet,” you assured your husband, offering a small wave when the man (or boy, more like) looked back towards the both of you. Hugo’s returning  grin was awkward, endearingly so, and you bit back a laugh when you caught the embarrassed ducking of his head, his dark skin hiding any rising blush.

He was young, barely out of training and still learning to hide his fear. They all were. Stoic, maybe, when they opened your doors and carried your groceries, but young. So, so young.

You picked up a stray pen, twirling it in your hands as you surveyed his desk. It was annoying neat, and you huffed as you tried to find something more interesting than typed field reports and stacks of manila folders. “No pictures?” you teased. He only pointed to the top corner and your eyes followed, falling on a small frame holding a color photograph. It was mostly of you, but you could see Isabella’s face peeking out of its bottom edge, intruding on the shot with a goofy smile. Her hair was short, curling in dark loops around her ears, so it must’ve been from a few years ago. ‘89, maybe. Yeah, ‘89, when he took that week off in Panama City and spent the whole time trying to teach Isabella how to swim. “That one?” you asked, curious. “I thought you’d want something more… I don’t know… official? Looking?”

He raised an eyebrow, adjusting the frame to its proper place. “Would you like to pose for another one?”

You sucked in a breath through your teeth, remembering the day you had to pin what seemed like fifty military badges to his uniform. “No,” you said, examining the photo and shaking your head. “No, that one’s good.”

Horacio pulled you into the slight alcove of the office, the one filled with high-backed chairs and radio equipment that lay partially hidden from view. “They’re looking,” you mumbled, suddenly more conscious of the officers standing a few feet away. “They think we’re up to something.”

 “Are we?” he asked, smiling. A laugh bubbled up in your throat and you shook your head.

“I...” you began, your voice trailing off. He looked tired, and you were reminded of before, when infants used to cry in hallways and walls were thin. “I probably shouldn’t have come but you said you wouldn’t be home and I just- I just wanted…”

He slid his hands up your arms until they rested at your shoulders, hushing you quietly before speaking. The soft skin of your lips fell from between your teeth and you swallowed, the words resting unfinished beneath your sternum.

I just wanted to see you.

While I knew you were here.

While I knew I still could.

 His fingers rested heavy on the juncture of your neck, their tapering familiarity smoothing back the ache of knotting muscle. His watch was heavy, a tactical thing with a million little numbers, and its ribbed black straps dragged against the necklace holding your wedding ring.  You heard Horacio’s men making conversation - questions in Spanish about Isabella’s school and her favorite colors, compliments on how nice her new shoes looked and that tu madre fue muy dulce al traernos este café - but they floated out of your head, momentary and paling in importance to the way his hands seemed to smooth out every wrinkle of your thoughts, until they lay flat and rubbed back softer with sandpaper fingerprints.

“You never told me why you needed to stay late,” you whispered. He frowned slightly when you noticed the copper blooms dotting the edges of his sleeves, rolled up to rest at his elbows. “Did something happen?”

Horacio’s expression turned softer. Maybe to tamp down your worry. Maybe to try and make you forget it completely. He was like that with you. More gentle. Earnest. One hand raised to cup your jaw. “Nothing bad,” he said, shaking his head at your widened eyes, their color glassy from the fluorescence of office lamps.

“Promise?” you asked, wavering an echo of a morning’s conversation.

He straightened out, an oak to wrapping, shaded ivy. “Promise.”