#i swear to god they could not have written that exchange any better if they tried

[epiclad]

"You, this is Boo. And Boo -- meet you." "It is an honour." "No -- it is a hamster."

[covenha]

The Perfect Cocktail

Synopsis: You and San get into a fight that leads to Seonghwa and Siyeon having to mix up the perfect cocktail to get the both of you to make up. Pairings: Bff!San x fem!reader ; Renjun from NCT dream is also mentioned in the fic but not as a love interest per se; Siyeon from Dreamcatcher is Seonghwa's fraternal twin in this because I said so genre: crack, fluff, angst if u squint and look really hard Warnings: alcohol drinking and going to a club, oc jokes about offing herself once because of school, Siyeon jokes about a dilf professor WC: 2.8k (I got way too carried away this was supposed to be a blurb 😭); flashbacks are in italics a/n: this is fiction, so anything that is written in this piece does not portray these people's character irl. Please always read the warnings carefully. I got way too carried away with this one, but I hope you guys enjoy it! HIMYM is one of my favorite TV shows and I was inspired to write this fic because I rewatched a couple episodes. I also have no clue why I keep writing about clubs and sports, I have like 0 background in that so if there are any inaccuracies then you'll just have to deal with it lmao. I highkey think the formatting of this fic is off but as always, your feedbacks are always deeply appreciated. Hope you enjoy the fic!

“You know, if it bothers you so much, you should just go and talk to him.” Siyeon points out, taking you out of your train of thought.

“I mean, I could…” But you wouldn’t. Siyeon shakes her head.

You and San had a lot in common. You met at the age of six when you both decided you wanted to learn taekwondo. You shared a love for mint chocolate chip ice cream, a dislike for vegetables, and a deep passion for cats. But above all, you were both painfully in love with each other and too afraid to admit it. In your years of friendship, this was one of the biggest fights you’ve had to date. 

[ 1 week ago ]

“I can’t believe you, San. You know how much this club means to me!” You point at San, your eyes are filled with disbelief. The arts club was something that you had joined on a whim during the first week of freshman year, but as time lapsed you grew to love the small group of artists in it. 

“It was only a suggestion, I swear. I didn’t know they meant the arts club. C’mon, y/n, you gotta believe me.” He massages the bridge of his nose, then looks at you. 

“God, you jocks never fucking think about anyone else but yourselves.” You mumble. A hurt expression quickly flashes on San’s face but he quickly regains his composure. You shake your head and cross your arms over your chest. The lunch in front of the both of you is forgotten as the atmosphere gets more heated. 

“Look, when I suggested getting funding from somewhere else, I had no idea they’d take it from the arts club. Hell, I didn’t even think they’d take my idea seriously. Y/n, we need the money to get better equipment. You know this. We might actually have a fighting chance against SMU this year!” San argues with you. 

“We had to fight tooth and nail for that money, San. You know those funds were going to help renovate the studio.” You bite back. 

Siyeon and Seonghwa exchanged concerned glances. As fraternal twins, they were extremely good at communicating with each other, almost to the point of telepathy. They shared a look that they knew meant one thing. 

We need to do something about this.

[ 5 days later ]

You groan as you plop yourself on your bed. Today was a long day. You woke up late to your first lecture of the day, scraped your knee because you tripped while running to said class, and had to skip lunch for an emergency meeting with your groupmates for your health ethics class. You silently cursed at your professor for thinking that an impromptu group project was a good idea. 

“I despise that man.” You mumble into your pillow, still laying face down on it. 

“I don’t know, if it wasn’t unethical I’d probably tap that.” You lift your head off of your pillow just to throw Siyeon a disgusted look. 

“Mr. Kyle?! Gross.”

“What? He’s tall and cute. He gives me Carlisle Cullen vibes” Siyeon reasons out.

“He’s also 33, Siyeon.” She just chuckles at my words. 

“Well, enough about your professor. You need a break. You aren’t looking too good.” Siyeon looks at me with genuine concern. 

I probably looked worse than I felt. It was midterms week and deadlines were piling up. To make matters worse, you and San had not talked to each other for the whole week. But both of you were too stubborn to apologize to each other. 

“God, tell me about it. I’m one minor inconvenience away from becoming a statistic.” You joke. 

“Well….” Siyeon starts, I look over at her. “Midterms week ends this week, we could go clubbing this Saturday?” I groan at this suggestion. 

“Siyeon, you did not just suggest that. Remember the last time we went out clubbing?”

“One more martini, kind sir!” Siyeon giggled at the bartender. He handed her the nth martini of the night, and she waddled her way back to the booth where you, San, Seonghwa, and Hongjoong, Seonghwa’s friend, were stationed. 

“You know what would be stupid? If you guys dared us to make out. Wouldn’t that be so stupid?” Siyeon giggles again, while nursing her martini. Your eyes widen as you shake your head. She leans into you, making heart eyes at you then looking over to the boys. 

“I dare you guys to dare us to make out.”

Needless to say, you were adamant to get her to sober up quickly that night. 

“Every. Time.” You deadpan at Siyeon. 

“What?! We had a great timeeeee.” She whines out her sentence. She gives me her best set of puppy eyes and looks at me with a pout. 

“Pretty please.” 

“Fine. But no martinis. I mean it.” You could never say no to her puppy eyes. 

“I only suggested that because it would be so stupid…. So stupid.” she mumbles. But she grins inwardly, the plan had to work. 

She sends Seonghwa a text. 

SY: she folded, going clubbing tom SH: san just agreed to tomorrow too SH: operation perfect cocktail is a go SY: i did not agree to calling it that SY: nerd 🫵

[ Earlier that morning ]

The twins are sitting at their apartment table munching on some stale cereal. They clearly had a lot on their mind. It had been 4 days and you and San were still actively trying to avoid each other. This fight had been going on too long for comfort. Usually, you and San resolved fights within 2 days of starting them. You guys were whipped for each other, but too stupid to actually realize it. 

“We need to interfere.” Seonghwa breaks the silence. 

“Yeah, but they clearly won’t talk to each other. At least, not sober.” Siyeon reasons out.

“Wait no, that’s actually a great idea. We need to get those bitches drunk!” He suggests, pointing his spoon around.

“But, we can’t just get them any kind of drunk. We need a plan, Hwa.” 

“Right, right. We need to get them the right kind of drunk. How about something mellow, red wine?” He suggests. 

“I don’t know, red wine has a weird effect on y/n. She reaches like, a sad point of clarity.” 

The room was buzzing with excitement as the countdown for the new year was about to start. Siyeon was sitting across y/n, at a college bar sipping on some red wine. 

“B+. All my life I just wanted to be an A, but I’m a B+. And I just have to live with that?” she stares at her glass with a forlorn expression. 

Happy New Year!

“If we want them to open up, I say we go straight up gin.” Siyeon gets a piece of paper to write down their ideas. 

“Hmmm, last time San got gin drunk it was at that trashy sports bar. He almost got into a fight that night” Seonghwa shakes his head. 

San was trudging through the dimly lit hallway trying to find the men’s room. He turns left and notices another guy walking towards him. 

“Look at this dude. Who does he think he is? Walking to me, showing me no respect. I’ll show this chump what I’m made of.” San thinks to himself. 

He continues walking down the hallway, taking large strides trying to size up his opponent. Just as he is about to make contact with his newly sworn enemy– thump.

What the? 

Oh. It was a mirror. 

“How about cocktails… Pina Coladas?” Seonghwa suggests.

“Well, when san has one of those he gets really into himself.”  Seonghwa recalls. 

It was a halloween tradition for the five of you to hang out at the twin’s apartment and have cocktails. And as the night progressed everyone was getting buzzed with the “pina ghoul-adas” made by Hongjoong. Everyone was gathered at the front of the television watching Gonjiam– all except San who was too scared to even look at the TV. Instead, he was stationed at the front of a full-length mirror nursing the yellow drink in his hand and swaying to the sounds of the movie. He was looking at his own reflection with sensual feline eyes. Clearly he was feeling himself.

“Hey guys. I dare you to dare us to make out.” San playfully winks at his own reflection. 

“Sannie, you know that’s another mirror right?” Hongjoong points out. But San is too busy flirting with his own reflection.

“They’re idiots.” Seonghwa sighs. 

“Agreed.” Siyeon nods. 

“This better work. I can’t have another lunch with the both of them going at each other. They ruined taco tuesday.” Seonghwa says solemnly. 

“We got this.” Siyeon smirks. 

If there was one thing the Park twins were great at, it was meddling in other people’s lives. To this day, you still shudder at what they did to Chris after he stole and reformatted Hongjoong’s laptop. You never wanted to get on either of their bad sides. 

[ Saturday night ]

Dolled up and ready to finally let loose, you and Siyeon book an uber going to the club that you guys usually frequent. But when you get there, you aren’t too thrilled to see San standing near the entrance with Seonghwa and Hongjoong. You look over to Soyeon with an unimpressed look. 

“Really?” You deadpan at her.

“The boys wanted to come with, okay? And I knew you would cancel on me if you knew….” She smiles sheepishly at you. But you know what? You were not going to let some stupid boy get in between you and a fun time. 

“God, I need to get drunk.” You sigh to yourself. This night better be a fun one. 

You guys walk into the club after lining up to get in. The place is teeming with sweaty bodies dancing and grinding on the dancefloor. Usually, you would have cringed at the sight of so many people. But with the 3 shots of tequila you and Siyeon drank as pre-game, the positive buzz was humming through your body and your inhibitions were starting to melt away. You guys make it to the bar but there is a line to get drinks. Hongjoong leaves for the men’s room, and the twins volunteer to get the first round of drinks, leaving you and San to awkwardly sit in silence as you wait for the twins to come back. 

Lining up at the bar, the twins look over to you and San basically ignoring each other. Sitting across from each other at the booth, it looks like the both of you haven’t even said anything to each other. 

“Okay, we’ve cross-referenced every alcoholic drink with their reactions. What’s the right drink for this situation?” Siyeon she eyes the both of you sitting at the booth.

“They aren’t even looking at each other…. Hmm, we need a drink that will start a fight.” Seonghwa says. 

Gin.

-----

“God and we’re back to this again. You can’t honestly believe that I would suggest something like that and be serious about it y/n.” San’s eyebrows furrow at your unimpressed expression.

“I don’t know, San. Can I? I knew you didn’t like me hanging out with Renjun but this would be taking it way too far.” You roll your eyes at him. Maybe it was the alcohol buzzing in you. Or maybe it was the over stimulating environment. But whatever it was, you were getting fired up. In fact, you both were. 

“What does this have to do with me not liking Renjun?! I don’t like the bitch but I wouldn’t backstab you like that like some crazy psycho!” Bringing up Renjun clearly bothered San a lot. Of course, he didn’t like him. He could tell that he also had a crush on you. It takes one to know one, you could say. But he would rather manscape coach Liu before he admitted that out loud. Deep down, he knew that some sick part of him was a little happy that you would spend a little less time with the boba-eyed boy. But, he didn’t want to tear down something that he knew meant a lot to you. 

“Well if you really were my friend, you should’ve fought for me!” You point at him. 

“Okay, now that we have them where we want them. We need a drink that will make them emotionally vulnerable. I’m talking full on Kim Kardashian ugly crying.” Seonghwa says. 

“Right. Right. We need something that will turn subtext into text.”Siyeon scans through the handy notes that she took down. 

Whisky.

-----

“I just felt like I was never good enough to be your friend. I’m not talented in drawing like you are. I could never really relate to how you and Renjun banter over your arts and stuff. It felt like I was being replaced!” He tears up. His pout and his red face was melting your heart. 

“Oh Sannie, I could never replace you. I was just so hurt when the club’s funds were going to be used for something else. I was so upset that I took it out on you. I just wanted something to be involved in, you know? To feel important.” You slur out your heartfelt words. 

“y/n, you are so important to me. Like super duper atomic bomb important.” San hiccups. 

“It just felt like you were getting so involved with soccer that you would forget about me…” You pout, tears starting to gather in your eyes. 

“Oh god, I never thought about how you would feel.” San cries out.

“I never thought about how YOU would feel. I’m such a dingus.” You wipe away your tears and frown. You see a bit of your mascara in your finger. But you felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulder. 

“Man that got depressing real fast.” Siyeon looks over at both of your forms drunkenly leaning on one another after that heart-to-heart conversation. 

“We need them to let loose a little. I mean, that’s what we came here for anyway. Might as well give them a little of what they actually came here for.” Seonghwa points out.

Pina Colada.

-----

You and San are slowly swaying your hips to the tunes of Charli XCX’s top hits. The strobe lights are bouncing off the walls, the bass of the songs vibrating throughout the club so hard they make your heart hurt. The both of you were finally having some fun after midterms week fried your brain. 

“Wooooo! Fuck health ethics, fuck my professor, and fuck midterms week!” You nod to the beat of the song. 

San was dancing in front of a mirror placed on the corner of the club, just having a great time twirling the little umbrella that came with his drink. He was making the same sensual look at himself in the mirror, biting his lip even. 

“God I missed this feeling.” Seonghwa sighs in satisfaction, looking over at the two of you breaking it down to Guess by Charli XCX. 

“I know right. Now I know why we love meddling in people’s lives so much. Dance my puppets, dance!” Siyeon rubs her hands together like a villain in a disney movie. 

“Okay, let’s end the night before they black out and forget everything. We need to end it with a bang.” Seonghwa says. 

Beer.

-----

“I love you.” San slurs while stumbling across the pavement with his one arm wrapped around your waist.

“No, I love YOU.” You giggle and boop his nose. You are swayed by his unsteady walking. 

“God, we are just so loving. Nobody is doing it like us, y/nie.” San smiles thoughtfully. 

The both of you are a giggling mess as the twins try and haul you into Hongjoong’s car. The drive to the twins’ apartments was riddled with a bunch more “I love you”s being drunkenly slurred between the both of you. Hongjoong, who was the drunk driver, was nervously looking at the backseat every now and then, hoping and praying that neither of you vomit in his car. But the real challenge was getting the both of you up 3 flights of stairs. 

After successfully hauling the both of you into the apartment, you and San lay a tangled mess on their pull-out couch. The both of you are out cold once the twins managed to change most of your soiled clothes. Sleeping like babies while cuddling each other, the twins look exhausted but satisfied at their work. 

“Mission Perfect Cocktail: Success!” Seonghwa whisper-shouts while pumping his fist in the air.

“I never agreed to call it that.” Siyeon repeats herself.

“Whatever, you donkey. You just hate that I’m more creative than you.” Seonghwa snaps back at Siyeon. 

“Oh please, like I could ever be jealous of your virginity corner.” Siyeon claps back. 

“Hey!”

[ironicandpunny]

“The Kid”, a Leonard “Bones” McCoy fic, written by me for @rainpelt25 as part of an art exchange!

Summary:

(Y/N) gets hurt on an away mission, and has to spend a prolonged period of time in the MedBay. Somehow, they manage to break through McCoy’s icy exterior, and walks away fully healed with a new friend.

Doctor Leonard McCoy was never one for people. Not really, anyway. Saving their lives and feeling successful about his own life as a result of that was one thing, but being friends and making small talk? Another thing entirely. Jim always made snide comments about his poor bedside manner for a reason, after all.

So, aside from Jim, and Spock when he wasn’t feeling like a snide, pompous asshole, McCoy didn’t really have very many people he’d consider “friends”. Coworkers or acquaintances at best, patients at worst, and he’d like to keep it that way, thank you very much.

Imagine his surprise, then, when he met (Y/N). Not new to the ship, but not old, either, (Y/N) didn’t oft frequent MedBay, except for checkups, and one time, a broken finger, so McCoy didn’t really know them that well. That is, until the mission on Aria IV, where they’d been part of the ground crew, and in some stupid ass way or the next, ended up with a handful of broken ribs, a broken nose, and a bevy of scratches of different depths to give any good doctor a run for their money.

Luckily for (Y/N), McCoy was a damn good doctor.

Of course, being himself, he ordered a week of bed rest, and two week’s light duty for them, and even demanded that the first week be spent right there in SickBay, where he could keep a close eye if something were to go awry. It seemed like a fair deal, but (Y/N) was none too happy about it.

“Doctor, I understand your concern, but three weeks? I’ll die of boredom.”

“Just be grateful it’s not ten, like the old days.” McCoy gruffed, still working dutifully on their ribs, having already set them and now carefully bandaging them.

The kid, as McCoy had taken to calling them, groaned, tossing their head back melodramatically, making McCoy chuckle, just a bit.

“Is there nothing you can do to make it go faster?”

McCoy rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Not unless you wanna risk fracturing them again.”

Another groan, no longer paired with the head toss. “You suck.”

“So I’ve heard.”

And with that, he was done wrapping their ribs, and he stepped away, looking them over one more time. “How d’ya feel, kid? And don’t say ‘bored’, or I swear to God in Heaven, I’ll smack you so hard, your grandchildren will feel it.”

The kid gulped, and lifted their shoulders. “Fine. You must have some pretty good stuff.”

“The best Starfleet can get their hands on. Hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Good, me too. I’ll get us some lunch.”

The replicator made easy work of getting something that suited both of their diets, and he brought the meal over to The Kid, sitting at their bedside, offering over a plate.

“And you’d better clear it.” He added jokingly, giving them a teasing grin.

“Yessir.” The Kid replied, just as jokingly, before digging in.

McCoy wasn’t sure how it happened, but somehow, this became routine while The Kid healed up. He’d take one or two meals with them, and just chat, about nothing but everything all at once. He got to know them pretty damned well, from their favorite color, to where they were raised. It was… nice. He was almost sad when it was time for them to officially leave the MedBay.

“Are we still gonna do lunch tomorrow?” The Kid asked, just before leaving.

McCoy chuckled, and shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. “If you want.”

They blinked, as if shocked, and barked a confused laugh. “Of course I want. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

The question settled into McCoy, into his very bones and being, and he found himself nodding. “Guess we are.”

He wasn’t sure how it happened; He hadn’t been trying to make friends, but somehow, by some means, he and The Kid were friends. And he'd do everything in his power to make sure it stayed that way.

[blankat]

Hi! :D

I was wondering whether or not you could do

a sad/angst one with Larissa and reader from

your prompt list no. 1 and 11? Only of you're

comfortable with that!

Maybe smth along this:

They've been together already and when

Larissa dies, reader (possibly gn!reader?)

keeps seeing her due to either powers or

powers in connection with alcohol

consumption if that makes sense? Just some

sad and angst in general. Eventually them

being taken care of or found by someone if

you're up for comfort. Maybe not. You

decide :D

ldk how to describe it. I hope you get whatl

mean

Anyway, have a great day! <3

Oooookay, i gotta say, i LOVE this idea. also, i have never written a gn character, so i really hope i didn't mess up anywhere but i did not proofread it, so if i messed up, just tell me and i'll fix it.

11. You know I'm not real, don't you?

warnings: alcohol abuse, death, angst, hallucinations

pairing(s): Larissa Weems x gn!reader

words: 1.7k

You were sitting on the balcony, drinking once again, a habit that your girlfriend isn’t really fond of, always telling you to stop drinking so heavily, unless you want to die way sooner than her. Honestly, you didn’t really care because you didn’t see her as often as you’d like, only now and then, you would exchange a few words, she would tell you that she loves you and misses you to which you’d storm into the comfort of your once shared bedroom, under the thick layers of soft blankets, sobbing until dawn.

But today, you felt slightly better than other days, the weather was nice, the students weren’t as problematic as they are on any other day. You were feeling okay-ish.

You’ve been sitting out there for a while, when the faint clicking of heels disturbed your thoughts. You smiled to yourself before turning around, knowing that your girlfriend is finally coming back, just in time, because you were terribly missing her, already on your 3rd bottle of whisky. 

“Darling? What are you doing out here? It’s cold, come back inside.” Larissa stepped out to the balcony, her hands landing on your shoulder, glancing at the empty bottles on the floor she sighed, then took the one in your hands from you. “I’ll take this now. Come, sober up a bit.”

You walked back to the living room and sat down on the couch, looking at the now lit fireplace, zoning out a bit but still hearing Larissa swearing to herself while throwing you alcohol out to the trash. You felt a little guilty, you should’ve been a better girlfriend to her, maybe you can still fix it. 

Larissa came back to the living room with a bottle of water, and sat down next to you, caressing your face with her soft hands. You closed your eyes at the feeling, and sighed happily, leaning into her touch.

“Why didn’t you light the fire? How long have you been out there?” she asked, looking at you with a worried expression, her brows furrowed.

“Larissa, it’s not cold-” you slurred, looking at her.

“Not cold? Y/N it’s the middle of winter. I can’t believe you. I bet you’ve been sitting there since morning.” she scolded you and you raised an eyebrow on that.

“Hmm, I sat out not too long ago, just after 9. Anyways, what are you doing here in the middle of the day? I thought you’re busy running your wonder school.” you smiled at her but she didn’t return it.

“Y/N, it’s 11 in the evening. And I am not running the school anymore, but you know that. You were there.” she whispered, not once looking near or touching you.

“My bad, I forgot.” you tried grabbing her hand but she pulled away, standing up.

“Are you okay? You should sleep, we can talk tomorrow.” Larissa said, giving you a half smile, walking away.

“Lay with me?” you asked just as she was about to leave the apartment, to go God knows where.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” she whispered.

“Come on! No funny business, I promise.” you said, earning a chuckle from her that made your heart melt. It felt so long ago that you heard her laugh.

Eventually, she agreed and laid down on the bed next to you, careful not to touch you. You both turned at the same time, facing each other, smiling.

“I wish it’d happened differently.” she whispered, tears escaping her eyes.

“I miss you so much.” you swallowed a sob, trying to touch her but she shook her head gently.

“I know, Y/N, I know.”

The next morning you woke to an empty bed, as usual in the past months. No note from her, even her perfume wasn’t lingering in the air like it used to. You rubbed your eyes, feeling the damp skin on your cheek.

“Fucking hell” you cursed, waking up. You made your way to the kitchen to have a drink when you remembered she threw them out last night. You sighed, opening the fridge instead, picking up an apple, your eyes catching the food container with Larissa’s lunch in it from months ago. It broke your heart that she wasn’t even willing to take the food you made for her. It was looking rather disgusting so you decided to throw it out, but when the container landed in the empty trash can, you raised your eyebrows. Opening the food cabinet, you gasped at the sight of your liquors untouched.

“What the fuck?” you whispered to myself, grabbing one and opening it. 

Two hours later you were drunk again, sitting on the living room floor, staring at your phone. Earlier this morning, you texted Larissa, asking if she would come over today, but she hasn’t answered your texts. They haven’t even been delivered, just sent. You loved her more than anything, you should’ve just asked her when your relationship was still stable, maybe then all this wouldn’t have happened. You couldn’t help but overthink, which resulted in you sobbing on your floor, until you fell asleep.

When you awoke, you catched a glimpse of blond hair outside on the balcony and smiled. She came back. You hurried outside and looked at her, trying to find the right words but none came. She looked so peaceful, almost glowing, however the lack of her perfume invading your nostrils made you frown. Why did she stop wearing perfume? Perhaps her new lover didn’t like it. When she finally looked at you, you gulped opening your mouth.

“Larissa. I- I really need to tell you something.” you said, your voice betraying you, breaking quickly.

“Yes, darling?” she smiled standing up.

“Okay, um- I love you. But you know that. I am sorry, it’s my fault. All of it. I should’ve been there for you, but I wasn’t. And I can’t ever forgive myself for that.” you said, crying. Larissa just smiled, finally touching you, wiping your tears so gently, you didn’t even feel her hands.

“My love, it was not your fault. You couldn’t have prevented it from happening, and you shouldn’t be mad at yourself.” she smiled, her voice so quiet, it would’ve got lost with the most tender breeze.

“I want to fix it. Can I fix it?” with trembling hands, you reached towards Larissa. “Marry me, Larissa. I- I don’t have a ring. I wanted to ask you months ago but I didn’t have the courage. And when you first left, I was so mad, I threw the ring down the balcony. But I want to marry you, please.”

“Love,” she cupped your cheeks, still smiling down at you. “You don’t need to propose to me to prove how much you love me. I know it. And I love you too, Y/N.”

You sobbed. Like you’ve never done before. Not even under the covers in your bedroom.

“Can I hug you?” you asked and when you didn’t receive any answer from Larissa, just another smile, you hesitantly wrapped your arms around her. And when she reciprocated the hug, you desperately wanted to inhale her familiar scent but it was absent. And her movements were so tender that everytime you closed your eyes, it felt like she wasn’t even there. You tried to push your anxious thoughts away. “Don’t stop loving me. Please.”

“I won’t.” Larissa sighed happily. “Y/N?”

“Hmmm?” you muttered happily, eyes still closed. She loved you.

“You know I’m not real, don’t you?”

Falling. You felt like falling from the tallest building ever, knowing the tragic end is inevitable, crushing your bones, ripping you open, tearing your heart. Opening your eyes, your breath quickened at the realization that Larissa was in fact not there. But she was real. She has to be. 

Tears streaming down your face, you maniacally rummaged through your apartment, looking for your love, breaking and tearing apart furniture and anything in your way.

“Larissa?” you asked, hoping she’d answer from the bedroom, waiting for you. But nothing came and when you found your bedroom empty, a scream escaped your throat, probably waking up half of your floor in the school. “LARISSA!”

Your screaming and yelling, chanting your lover’s name was disturbed by frantic steps and a hand around your shoulders, lifting you up from the floor. 

“Mx. Y/L/N!” a familiar female voice called, looking up you saw your new colleague, Mrs. Evans trying to help you out of your misery. “Y/N!”

“I need to find Larissa, let me go.” you tried to free yourself from Evans’ grasp, failing. She held your face, looking into your eyes, whispering comforting words to calm you down at least a little.

“Y/N. Tell me what happened.” you sobbed, trying to gather your thoughts, realization hitting you.

“She’s dead, isn’t she?” you asked, voice hoarse but still calm.

“Yes, darling.” Mrs. Evans smiled sadly at you. “Maybe you should move out of campus. The memories are haunting you, making you suffer.”

“Please, don’t throw me out, this dorm is all I have of her. I look at any corner and all I see is her.” you cried. “I’ll stop drinking and I’ll find a doctor, go back to work, and teach the kids. Please, just don’t throw me out.”

“I would never throw you out, dear.” She kissed your forehead, looking at you with a worried expression.

“Principal Evans?” Enid appeared at your door, holding a little velvet box, handing it slowly to the older woman. “I found this ring just outside around this balcony.”

“Thank you, Miss Sinclair.” she smiled kindly at the girl, taking the box. You gasped, looking at it, tears welling in your eyes once again. Mrs. Evans noticed, giving you a warm smile along with the box. “I think this belongs to you, Y/N.”

“Thank you.” you said in a tiny voice.

“Will you be okay for the night?” she asked and you returned her smile, nodding. “Very well, I will be returning in the morning to talk, okay? Good night, Y/N.”

Closing the door behind Principal Evans, you walked into your bedroom, sitting down on your bed, putting the ring down on your nightstand. Your eyes caught a framed picture of you and Larissa, smiling widely, her hair down freely which rarely happened in her life. You smiled, picking up the picture, caressing Larissa on it with your fingers.

“I miss you, Pumpkin. I promise we’re gonna meet soon.”

[kob131]

Velma Episode 1 Thoughts

“So, how’s that promise to not watch the Velma show go-”

*Sees a list of Youtube reviews*

“...May as well check out for myself then.”

-Wow, you guys are trying so fucking hard to cause a rise out of people. This is some of the most pathetic baiting I have ever seen. And I’m autistic- I am literally wired to not get this stuff.

-And because I’m feeling cruel-

‘Tall handsome guy given even more power’- Ever heard of Spider man?

‘Oh hey, what made this hot chick go crazy?’- Ever heard of Samus Aran?

-’Not Fred and his creepy sex van’. Five bucks says you end up riding around in that ‘creepy sex van’ with Fred giving you orders because your show will be tanking so hard you’ll need to pander to the original audience to survive.

And as an original fan, I say ‘die in a ditch’

-’I hate Daphne. >:(’ Wow, the nerdy girl hates the popular, conventionally pretty girl. Real great work subverting those stereotypes. Especially since that notebook has ‘Velma Dinkley-Jones’ written in it too.

Fun fact, my own little Team STRQ headcanon has Raven and Summer hating each other’s guts due to ideological differences (Raven believes that people need to survive on their own while Summer believes that people should help if they have the power) among other things. But I’m insecure about it because it can also be read as ‘two girls fight over a guy (Taiyang)’. In short- I have more awareness of stupid tropes regarding women than this show.

-’This is my story, told MY way!’

Which is why you’re not even remotely Velma Dinkley and this told through the same fucking story telling seen everywhere nowadays.

-...This show is going to use swearing as a substitute for actual maturity, isn’t it?

*Shows two cockroaches bumping uglies*

... Yay...

-Is...is this bitchy girl Daphne? The sweet, emotionally intelligent, kind hearted Daphne?

-You know, you guys could have given the girls some variety in their body types other than ‘curvaceous, busty and leggy’. I’m no prude but coming to be more true to myself, I’ve come to appreciate the variety in the female form. I also say this because this involved me coming to terms with how I appreciate the male form as well.

Also just because sex sells (I have checked out series because I found a girl hot) doesn’t make shoving gratuitous nudity in my face entertaining. At least let the girl fully check them out.

-You know what, here’s a lesson to any aspiring writers-

If you’re gonna be sensual, be sensual. Fully examine the beauty of the female and male bodies. The graceful curves and the hardy stockiness- be free, be open, be true to yourself! That is what it means to be an adult!

 -Nobody gets physical over these kinds of discussions. Where the writers fucking high when writing this?

-Maybe they were because the chick I’m pretty sure is Daphne is DROWNING SOMEONE.

Please for the love of god, someone ax her ass!

-THANK YO-

‘And how do you feel about race blind casting, Daphne?’

Oh god FUCKING DAMNIT!

- “I wasn’t expecting such an enlightened answer from such a bitch.”

https://youtu.be/CN2s-rFYQqI

VELMA WOULD NOT ASSAULT SOMEONE!

-... Solid JJ did this better.

-... I want everyone whoever called RWBY’s writing as ‘exposition dumping’ to write an apology. NOW.

No one would respond to ‘How long has it been since X has had you over’ with ‘ever since my mom died. Two years ago.’ It should be. ‘Two years ago, ever since Mom...’. That is something people SAY.

-Oh god, this is so painful. 

You-you know how a lot of dialogue in media can be boiled down to how it advances the plot or characters but the extra fat is necessary to make the dialogue digestible to your average viewer since media is an exchange between the audience suspending their disbelief and the creators presenting a nice story in exchange?

No one ever taught these writers that. It’s ALL just plot progression and obvious references with nothing to give it any taste!

-*Slicked over blond hair, blue jeans, white sweater, bumps into Velma while on his phone*

Oh no no no no no no no-

“Oh hi, Fred!”

“I have a disease where I can’t remember anyone who isn’t hot-”

-NO, FUCK YOU!

The one. ONE! Guy who was never even close to anything to being toxic in his masculinity. A kind, cheerful, calm, caring man who suffered from single mindedness but was nonetheless a man who carried himself with dignity and kindness who was beloved for basically creating the ‘himbo’ archetype-

You FUCKED HIM UP! IN ONE SCENE!

-... Fred’s gay and in the closet, isn’t he?

Of course he is. Because of course any man who dresses fashionably must be sucking dick. Just like Velma’s probably LGBT because she’s nerdy and not conventionally feminine. Because as everyone knows- if you deviate from the overly strict definitions of masculinity and feminity, you MUST be LGBT.

-Can we have ONE good father in a fucking cartoon for once?

-Whatever is inside her...isn’t a baby.

-’Oh we’re ABOVE the ‘slutty girl deserved to get murdered’ trope~’

And yet you roll around in those other, even more cliche tropes. No credit.

-Oh yay, this really is a ‘toxic masculinty’ plotline with Fred. And ten bucks says it will still get its ass beaten by Jaune’s.

-’I’m at fault for my mom leaving my dad who knocked up a waitress’

And you’re supposed to be the smart one...

-’Wow, I am emotionally invested in your journey and it’s stakes!’

Cool. Glad someone is.

-...Why is Shaggy even here? What’s even the point without his connection with Scoob?

-’I hate drugs! *wink*’

Shaggy being a stoner was a joke, not canon. May as well give him Ultra Instinct at this point.

-Oh cool, the fucking waitress knows ‘Velma’ better than her fucking father. Yay...

-’Maybe Velma’s mom left her because she was a brat...’

... Judging from how Velma looks and her size, she’s likely no older than 6-8 during those flashbacks.

If that is true then Velma’s mom bore a grudge or resentment towards her child for...acting like a child. And no, the eyeball injury is not an excuse because in no universe is spray water into someone’s eye going to cause enough damage to make it pop out.

Velma’s mom was a fucking bitch and her dumbass dad is implied to be the better parent...because she’s a bitch. Fucking wonderful.

-... This show was some tax write off, wasn’t it?

[anotherhellchild]

Ok it has again been forever but guess who found all of their old drafts and WIPs!!

here's the first (and only) scene I had written for this fic:

“There” Miruko points down to a middle aged man sitting on some random bench in the park. “That’s our guy.” She says to Bakugou.

They’re standing- err well, Bakugou’s squatting- on a rooftop that overlooks the park. Hawks is slightly further away, over on the other side of the park. He’s hiding in a tree. 

“Intel says the transaction’s gonna happen any moment now. Once it does, we’ve gotta act fast.” Hawks says over their intercoms. “Which shouldn’t be a problem.” Miruko can just tell he’s smirking.

Cocky bastard.

“Yeah yeah.” The kid mutters. He turns to her: “He really looks for every excuse to mention the word ‘fast’ doesn’t he?” 

Tsss. This kid’s so great. 

She snorts. “Yeah, I’ve been dealing with it for years now, kid. Just be happy you’ve only been suffering for a couple months. It gets worse.”

“Hey! Rude.” Hawks says in her ear. “God- I really shouldn’t have ever let the two of you meet. I swear all you do is bully me! I’m supposed to be your mentor y’know, Bakugou? You're supposed to look up to me and basically worship me. Instead, Miruko’s got you convinced she’s better than me or something. It’s bullshit.” 

“Hah?! The rabbit ain’t got me convinced of shit, Chicken Wing! Besides, it doesn't matter which one of you’s better ‘cause I’m already better than the both of you.” 

Miruko rolls her eyes, she could easily take these boys in a fight, simultaneously even. “Wanna test that theory, Dynamite?” 

“Bet.” The lil’ fucker smirks. There’s fire in his eyes. His chin lifts up in challenge, a dangerous smirk forms on his face. Miruko squares her shoulders.

“Alright alright, how ‘bout we test it later? After the mission. You guys’ll blow our cover if you break out in a fight now. You’ll probably take a building down with you too and, honestly, I don’t feel like doing the paperwork for that.” 

Pff, witnessing Hawks become a (semi)responsible person whenever Bakugou’s around is so strange. It’s kind of really fucking hilarious though. 

Miruko seriously has to wonder who the person was that let the guy have authority over a sixteen-year-old. Granted, the sixteen-year-old in question is Bakugou Katsuki. Miruko -in her humble opinion- would say that he’s actually the one taking care of Hawks half of the time, but still.

“We all know the game plan, yes? No fatal injuries and try not to knock anybody unconscious. It shouldn’t be necessary.”

“I’m not sure who that’s directed towards but yes, we know.” Miruko answers on behalf of Bakugou and herself, slightly offended.

They’ve been over this already, during the briefing. The plan is simple; they wait for Villain #2 to show up at the bench so they can exchange money for drugs with Villain #1. Once that’s happened, Hawks will apprehend Villain #1, Bakugou will Apprehend Villain #2 and Miruko will take care of whatever accomplices swarm around the place. There’ll probably be two or three of those at the most. There’s just one getaway car stationed a couple meters away.

Easy peasy. 

“Over there.” Bakugou says. “Fucker number 2 is here.”

Sharp.

“Let's do this, then.” Miruko smirks.

They wait a moment more, Bakugou stands up to prepare his descent, fixing his costume with the movement. It’s cold for early spring and the wind rushes past Miruko’s ears. They watch Villain #1 leave his briefcase on the floor as he gets up off the bench and walks past Villain #2. The two pass each other, there’s an ever so subtle bumping of shoulders, and Villain #2 swiftly takes the briefcase off the floor next to the bench as he walks by. 

“Go.” Hawks says.

That’s the signal.

She jumps down, wind rushing past her before she hits the ground and quickly lands in front of Villain #1’s getaway car. There’s only two fuckers inside, taking them down will be easy.

She starts with the driver, yanking the door open and hauling the guy out by his collar, she pushes his face against the hood. The guy’s so shocked that he doesn’t even fight back.

Sucker.

It takes nothing for her to put him in cuffs and continue on to the woman who was in the passenger's seat. She, at least, has better reaction time. The woman’s already out of the car and booking it. 

Five projectiles are hurled Miruko’s way -all courtesy of said woman- but they’re dodged with one simple jump. Miruko’s foot lands perfectly between the woman’s shoulder blades. She successfully slams her into the concrete and thus, has her apprehended.

Easy.

Turning around, she confirms Hawks’ apprehended his guy too and Bakugou-

Where’s Bakugou?

Just then, there’s a small explosion in the distance. Miruko dumps her people next to Hawks and hops towards where Bakugou and Villain #2 went. It takes three big jumps to get there and she can immediately spot #2 on the ground, cuffed and slumped against a lamppost. 

There’s another person though-

Was #2 not alone?

-Bakugou seems to be doing fairly well against them. They’re clearly trying to get away, zigzagging through the air, it looks like they have some kind of flying(?) quirk. 

She watches as Bakugou blasts himself up towards them, he maneuvers himself midair and slams into the person's back, successfully tackling the flying (floating?) person out of the air. They both drop like lead. 

Watching it all go down from this distance -where it basically looks like two flies are fighting up above her- it’s a pretty funny sight.

Bakugou blasts himself (and the person) back up just before hitting the ground. The landing really isn’t so great, Bakugou ends up skidding and rolling over the ground with the person until they eventually come to a stop about three meters from where Miruko’s standing.

Ehh, it’s something to work on.

Miruko quickly cuffs them and then she turns her attention to Bakugou. He’s turning around, surveying the area.

“There’s another. Dunno where they went.” He says, before blasting himself back up, probably to get an aerial view. 

She watches him, he does some twists and turns in the air trying to spot this last person. 

It’s impressive how flexible he is, and determined too.

Gravity pulls him down and he lets himself fall back to the ground again. Seems he hasn’t spotted the target, then.

He falls.

He falls.

His arms stretch out, ready to catch himself with a blast.

There’s a glowy thing approaching like a bullet.

What-??

It hits him right in the side

He flinches and his body does this- this twist.

He falls

He’s gonna fall

It’s a blur after that. Miruko’s not sure what’s happened.

Old WIP

soo I know I havent been active in like forever BUT! I’ve slowly been getting back into bnha :)) … I finally watched the latest movie and im almost up to date on the manga

anyways I had this idea for a fic like two years ago and I’ve decided its time I share it cause I don’t think ill ever actually write it lol (mostly cause im just not motivated but also cause I lost the draft I had for it) keep in mind that I thought about this like two years ago tho so all the recent manga/anime developments never happend (also mentions of bad parent Mitsuki ahead)

it was gonna be a kid Katsuki fic where Bakugou got hit by a quirk that basically made him 10 years younger (so he’d be 6). And the ‘rules’ to this quirk were the following:

- whoever gets hit by the quirk instantly turns into themselves from 10 years ago

- but like. exactly themselves from exactly 10 years ago. so they’d have the exact memories and body they had at the exact time of day just 10 years in the past.

- so for example if u got hit with the quirk at 3:23pm on the 10th of august 2022 you’d turn into the version of yourself from 3:23pm on the 10th of august 2012 and if you were hungry or thirsty at that time in 2012 you’d still be hungry or thirsty when you appear in 2022 (this is rlly vague but hopefully it makes some sense lmao)

-also say you were playing outside at that time, you’d suddenly be super confused as to where you were and what was happening etc.

- its kinda like the person hit by the quirk rewinds exactly 10 years. does that make sense(?). 

- after exactly 24 hours the person hit with the quirk ‘ages’ (or I guess ‘fasts forward’) exactly a year. so 3:23pm august 10th 2012 kid turns into 3:23pm august 11th 2013 kid. cause its a day later.

- they age by exactly a year every 24 hours until they reach they’re actual age again. so it takes exactly 10 days for the quirk to wear off.

- whenever they age up again, they have no memory of the day before

those were the basic rules to the quirk and I can’t remember if there was anything else to it but yeah (lmk if it made no sense ill try to explain better)

so in my fic I was gonna have Katsuki get hit by the quirk (obviously). and it was gonna be part of my Bakugou Katsuki is class 1a’s big brother - change my mind series which means that id have Katsuki already adopted by Aizawa and part of the Aizawa-yamada household. (Hitoshi, Shoto and Eri also part of the fam of course) but the adoption process was gonna either not be over yet or at least super recent and the extent of Katsuki’s past and abuse was not gonna be known by anyone. also I like hawks so I think I had Baku as hawks’ intern in this 

I believe I had already written the first scene where I was gonna have Miruko, hawks and Bakugou out on patrol fighting some villains and then Bakugou getting hit by the quirk. (I forgot the password I need to get to the draft tho💀, so I can’t share it with you guys at the moment)

anyways, I thought the idea had a lot of potential cause I was gonna have everyone see how Katsuki aged from a 6yo to a 16yo over the course of 10 days. and I was gonna make it that his ‘past selves’ that ‘appear’ had just been kidnapped or something or had a lot of buises or hadn’t eaten in however long and then all of a sudden they find themselves in a room full of (to them) strangers who he obviously doesn’t trust. everyone was gonna see first hand how messed up Katsuki’s childhood was. and in the meantime Katsuki was just gonna be trying to figure out whether he could trust these people or how he could escape them.

it was gonna be a lot of trauma and fun!

oh and I was gonna make it that when he initially got attacked by the quirk, it would’ve coincidentally be exactly 9 days away from the anniversary of when the sludge villain attacked him. meaning that his 14yo self (that would’ve showed up on day 9 of the quirk) was gonna happen to be in the middle of being choked by sludge whilst the quirk hit which would make it that (to him) it’d feel like he’d be fighting sludge one second and then he’d suddenly be in front of a whole class of UA students the next. 

I had all these ideas for the fic that I can elaborate on if anyones interested! but I mostly just wanted to share this cause I started thinking about my old WIPs recently and thought it’d be fun to talk about them!

feel free to send me any asks about this if you want! maybe ill try to look for my old headcanons and wips if anybody’s interested

[rcksmith]

Not you — Five Hargreeves

Requests: “Five Hargreeves x fem!reader, Fluff prompts 9, 52 and 53, please? (You can do this whenever you feel like it) Five and Y/n are both hit by one of Hazel and Cha-Cha’s bullets in the Gimbel Brothers store and they immediately go to the academy (Five wants Y/n treated as soon as possible.) after they’re fine, the siblings start to question them on Five’s protectiveness over Y/n”

“Hii could I request 4 & 23 off the fluff prompts for Five pls ty 😌✨”

Fluff prompts:

4. “Sweetheart, you’re my entire world”

9. “So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend?!" "No, that girl is my wife!”

23. “i’ve dreamt about this.”

52. "Help her first."

53. “There are no limits when it comes to you. I’ll do anything to keep you safe.”

A/N: We not tolerate any pedophilia here !!

I write about Five with their 20s. I write the same about the characters of Harry Potter.

I hope you guys like💖I decided to compile these two requests, since they were the same energy and they prompts connect to a central plot. I added all the elements that were asked for individually, and made sure that all ideas were respected and written down. Good reading.

I used here some fragments of the central plot of Five, but, guys, keep in mind that he is 20 years old, and that when he comes back to 2019 Five does not make a mistake in the calculations. I changed the location of the fight too, but a really I hope you, Anon # 1, don't mind.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Five Hargreeves / Fem! Reader.

Warnings: blood, mention of death, swearing, fluff too.

— — — — —

You remembered perfectly when you met Five Hargreeves, the commission's golden ball, The Handler's award-winning shamrock. If you closed your eyes, even after years, you could still smell the male cologne wafting in the air, and you could relive the same feeling in the pit of your stomach that you had when he looked at you with those obsedian eyes.

Five Hargreeves was gorgeous. Absurdly gorgeous. But absurdly arrogant, boastful, presumptuous and completely absent of any delicacy in relation to empathy and kindness. He was the type who would open the door for you to enter first, but who would be the first to make fun of your erroneous reasoning.

And that was why, at the time, when you were assigned to be his partner, you lived in conflict with what you really felt. It was a mixture of tantrum and physical attraction.

But unlike all the people around Five, when he spit fire at you with all the anger at his difficult temper, you didn't run. In fact, when it exploded the first time in front of you, you crossed your arms, arched an eyebrow and looked at him with boredom.

“Have you finished your show yet?” You said, as if you didn't care, leaning against the hood of the car while Five screamed through the 7 winds “Stop to imply with everything.”

Five had been your partner for a few months now and it became clearer each day that the irritation was mutual. He made it perfectly clear that you pissed him off until his last hair.

But, unlike you, it was for another reason.

Shit, you were a fucking goddess! Your beauty was notorious, but that was not all that caught his attention. You were smart, canny, brave, Five never saw you in fear of any situation or shaken by any scene of blood. You knew your goals and went after them. It was strong, decisive, and, goddamn, he loved it. You had a fist, you were firm, and you always made it very clear that you were no helpless maiden.

It felt like you had gotten out of his imagination, from the daydreams in which Five rambled about what kind of woman he admired. And, hell, you came with the full package. It was a combination of overwhelming beauty, intelligence, dexterity, and he never thought that someone like that could be real.

But of course you were. And now Five was completely irritated because you were real, and not just another his dream and daydream in which a sublime woman starred.

“To Imply?” Five turned to you, eyes on fire “To Imply?!”

“Like a 2-year-old who didn't take his afternoon nap. It's not the end of time, it doesn't have to be childish.”

Now Five felt himself ignite. He was a dry, rough fire and you were gasoline, igniting everything saw ahead.

Was that damn woman calling he a child?! You?! Just you, the person whose Five wanted to tie the bed and do all kinds of sinful things.

Oh hell no!

Five came forward, furious, like an angry god, his coal eyes never leaving your direction.

“Childish, isn't it?” He snarled “I'm going to show you the childish!”

Five held your face tightly in his hands and pressed your lips to his. Fierce, needy, set on fire, lost in half sentences of feelings about you. He slid his hands to the back of your neck, closing his fingers in your hair and invading your mouth with his tongue, letting you taste the caffeine, danger and lust he had.

You sighed, or Five, or both. You held him as close as he was, with the two of you being on the same mission: to conquer, to take, to possess. But Five had an extraordinary intensity, a magnitude that managed to win you

Then your touch became more docile, your kiss became submissive and you were surrendered. When Five walked away, not with his body, he still held you against him, but with his head, enough to look you in the eye, you sighed.

“I’ve dreamt about this.” You gave up your game, because you couldn't pretend anymore, and Five responded by kissing you again, this time tasting your whole mouth.

After that day, Five and you never came apart. You two were like a dynamic duo, crime partners in the morning and intense lovers at night.

But Five spent so much time with affection, love and caring being denied that when, on a night when work got the best of him, Five fell into the bed you shared in a Motel room, very close to your lap and you smiled sweetly and ran your fingers through his black hair, establishing the affection there, Five was catatonic.

His wild mind wanted to take it away and go, tell you to swallow those loving gestures and that he would never need them. That they were a nuisance, a distraction.

But his body and heart... well, they begged Five to stay another second. Just one more second enjoying that touch, the care, the importance that someone felt for him. He liked to be pampered, who knew.

So he ended up falling asleep with your touch and, after that day, Five realized that if his body and heart couldn't get any further from you, then no one would ever take you away from him. You would stay with him, until the end. As long as you wanted to stay.

And you wanted to. You wanted all the stages, all the moments, all the fights. You wanted Five, completely. And after some time like that, he said that you two were going to get married. It wasn't a request, it wasn't a speculation, it was a fact and that's it. You laughed, it was Five's style to be embarrassed about something and treat it more coarsely, just because he didn't know how to deal with the emotions he felt.

“Of course I do.” You reassured him by bringing your hands to his face, tracing affectionate circles on his cheek with your thumb.

“You would have no other option.” He grunted, not looking at you, trying to divert attention from his own racing heart.

You laughed and sealed the future of the two of you with a kiss.

After five years of making it official, Five said he had found a way for him to get home. And as he spoke, you noticed a flickering hesitation in his eyes. You knew, at that moment, that Five would leave it behind if there was a chance that you wouldn't want to go along. He promised to love you, in joy and sadness, in difficult times and in good times, and he never broke a promise.

Five Hargreeves would stay for you. In 1963, in 1988, in 2019, it didn't matter the season, the year. It wouldn't be worth anything if didn't have you by his side.

But, like him, it was logical that you would never abandon him, ever. So you went along. It was together in the murder in 1963, it was together at the time of the target, and it was together when he jumped in the portal. You were with Five when he reunited with his family, they all amazement by the 13 year old little brother who disappeared to reappear as a man of 25. On top of that accompanied by a girl.

But Five still couldn't administer his emotions properly, he still couldn't say that he missed his brothers and that being without his family had been terrible. His past contained many shipwrecks and he did not know how to open up about it. After so many years alone and then killing without any judgment, it was difficult to connect with emotions.

So, instead of saying everything that screamed inside him, after just some time with the siblings he took your hand and pulled you out, telling the Hargreeves that he would go after a decent coffee.

“I wish I could have talked to them better.” You grumble whit Five and he rolled his eyes.

“As if they were going to understand the things you were going to explain.” He murmured, covering the whole issue of the Commission and time jumps.

“This is not difficult to explain.” You raised your left hand, signaling the silver circle that hugged your finger.

Five laughed, sipping his coffee.

“You will be my wife forever, there is plenty of time for you to tell that.”

But as soon as Five's words had just left your lips, blowing in the air like fog, the door to the store opened, and you two didn't have to turn around to find out who they were. Years on the commission have earned you enough training to even recognize the sound of their footsteps.

The exchange of looks that Five and you gave was enough to know what each one was thinking and how they would act. That was your secret language, the superpower that you two shared. No words were needed to understand each one like the back of your hand.

You took a deep breath, while your fingers on your right hand steadied yourself on the coffee cup and Five on the knife. There was no waiting for speeches, exchanging words, you both knew that the Commission would send the best agents besides you, and Hazel and Cha-Cha were not known to be late at work.

Then the action started, Five turned and teleported with the knife, shoving it into the leg of one of the agents covered in rabbit masks. You didn't stay behind and swivel your chair around, throwing the sizzling coffee into the second's hands, causing him to drop the gun on the floor. You didn't wait to kick him in the chest, making him stagger backwards as you got up from the chair. You and Five were good, but so was Hazel and Cha-Cha, and you couldn't count on the powers to dodge physical attacks.

Everything was very fast indeed, windows were broken, punches were exchanged, blood was plucked. But when you looked to the side and saw who was probably Cha-Cha pushing Five against a broken glass stake, you understood why love at work was so dangerous. You understand completely. Because you've lost your focus. It took a thousandth of an instant for years of training and improvement to be thrown out the window. Only the possibility of Five getting hurt got you off track, and that was fatale.

The agent who fought with you took advantage of your distraction, reaching for the gun that was on the floor in that split second. And a shot reverberated through the place.

Suddenly, the world for Five stopped the axis. Everything was suspended, appalled, frozen. And in that very second, his body shivered from head to toe, as if misfortune had sighed in his neck. Five Hargreeves never feared anyone, even death itself. But as soon as he heard the sound of the shot, Five tasted death. Was rough, metallic and cruel, the blood drained from the body and the world released a dark and funeral note, sinking into a black sea.

Because fear is not the bullet hitting you, but someone you love.

Five turned back, eyes wide, hands shaking, and he didn't know what was beating faster: his fear or his heart.

He would remember that moment as the most cruel and frightening of his entire life, years in the apocalypse and killing had no comparison to the terror that was seeing your white shirt start to be stained with blood, the bullet hole marking your abdomen. You looked up at him, shocked, livid, and Five could see death perfectly, pulling the vitality out of your eyes.

He didn't think, he didn't reason, he just teleported himself to you, taking your body in his arms and teleported you two away from there. Five’s hands were shaking, a visceral pain snaking through his body and suffocating him with the worst sensation Five had ever felt in his life.

He took you both to the Hargreeves mansion in the blink of an eye, his powers failing when the blue flash left you both in the giant living room.

“Five!”

Maybe it was Luther's voice, or Klaus, or Diego, he didn't know. Everything was a distant echo, a note submerged in the water. Five saw or heard nothing but your body in his arms, your eyes closed and face frighteningly pale, his right hand, which was pressing on your wound, was already soaked in blood.

It was too much blood, the smell was overwhelming, and for the first time in a long time, Five Hargreeves was in despair.

Hands touched his shoulders, and Grace's voice was heard in the background. But he didn't want treatments, whatever the goddamn his wounds were going to be.

“Help her first!” Five shouted, his voice finding strength in the terror he felt. And also in fury.

The Handler would pay for that, and so would Hazel and Cha-Cha. And, by God, the whole world would pay if you never opened your eyes again.

“Right now.” Maybe it was Pogo “But, Five, are you…”

“No!” He ordered “She first!”

Then Grace's hands took you out of his arms and Five refused to leave you for even a second. He was beside you at the operating table, holding your hand, with him bloody fingers of your blood and the agent he had fought.

But Five didn't care about the himself state, the people around it, or anything. His eyes were focused on you, his face frozen in a livid expression.

And when Grace said that you would need a blood transfusion and Five barely let her finish speaking before rolling up the manga and extending his arm, the siblings Hargreeves and Pogo were shocked. What they saw in Five's eyes was not a man afraid of losing someone, but of losing the person he loved.

I shouldn't have come back. Was Five's first thought when the surgery ended well and you were still asleep. It was his fault that you almost died. And everything was buzzing in Five's head like a propellant.

“So…”

Klaus appeared in the kitchen, with the siblings, while Five was washing the blood from his hands, now calmer since you were alive.

“That was heavy.” Luther let out a little gasp, a kind of choked laugh.

“Aren't you going to tell us what happened?” Allison sat at the table.

“She almost died because of my decision, that's what happened.” Five replied, turning and picking up a cloth from the table, drying his hands.

“Five...” Allison made his eyes go towards his sister “Who is she, actually ?”

Five gave a bitter laugh. Who were you? How would he explain it?

You are everything. The reason wake up everyday was good, what made the summer breeze and the sun's rays warm, the reason why his world was still spinning.

Who were you? It was absolutely everything for Five.

“Someone very important.” His whispered escaped.

“So you're saying that girl is your girlfriend ?!" Luther looked at Five in shock, as if the possibility of him having a girlfriend was absurd.

“No.” Five looked at Luther with fire in his eyes, his voice hoarse “That girl is my wife!”

The room's breath evaporated, everyone was dumbfounded and bewildered. But Grace came in at that moment, saving Five from continuing that conversation.

“She woke up.” His mother's voice was soft, and Five dropped everything he was doing and disappeared into the blue flash.

The first thing he noticed when he entered that room was you sitting on the bed, your back against the headboard.

“Hey...” the smile you gave made Five's world spin again.

He didn't wait a second before walking up to you in quick steps, holding your face in his hands and sealing your lips in a desperate kiss, as if that could prove that everything was fine.

“I thought I lost you.” He whispered against your lips, hands shaking, thumbs stroking yours cheeks.

“Bad vase doesn't break early.” You joked and Five laughed softly, his forehead touching your. “Were you hurt?”

He denied it, still with you, as if letting you was impossible. Maybe it was.

“I got distracted, I'm sorry that we let them escape and...”

Five interrupted your sentence

“Sweetheart…” You stopped, bewitched by his tone of voice “You’re my entire world.”

Five wasn't calling Hazel and Cha-Cha right now. He would kill that entire Commission later. Later. Now the only thing that mattered was you.

“I shouldn't have broken our contracts with the commission. I shouldn't have put you in this.” He said “But ... but I am very selfish, and even though I knew it would be better to let you go back to the Commission, I cannot live without you...”

“Hey, I not go come back.” You held his hands that were on your face, looking at him with love "My place is with you.”

“I promise you that I will never let anyone else hurt you. Even if I have to kill every single person on this planet. ” Five guaranteed “There are no limits when it comes to you. I'll do anything to keep you safe. ”

You smiled, put your lips together in a passionate kiss and whispered:

“I only need you, my love. Forever.”

[mingiswow]

Chapter 24

Summary: you worked really hard for that, and you finally was accepted as an exchange student at Neo Culture Institute of Technology. But, for some reason, the system crashed and put you into an all-boys dorm.

Pairing: Johnny Suh x female reader

Warnings: curse words, suggestive themes, mentions of alcohol use, love triangle (kinda), mentions of food.

⚠️ this is a fictional piece, the characters and their behaviors are purely fictional and DO NOT represent their actual personalities

⚠️ There are going to be other characters appearing along the chapters

⚠️ There will be quite a few written chapters because I love them

⚠️ English is not my first language, so pardon me if there’s any mistake on the writing.

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Taglist: @vantxx95 @fishy-fish-mrfish @john-joong @kawennote09 @butterfliesinthenightsky @luxebeautystyle @kavyaistaken @yoonrimin @tallboisuh @hellok1ttycake @yagetintoit @heartj4yn0 @ghostfacefricker6969

The loud music was blasting outside your windows, the even louder scream of people playing, dancing, drinking, and flirting making your heartbeat fast on your chest.

“You won’t go down?” Jungwoo entered the room holding two solo cups and giving you one “it’s beer”

“Thanks. I’m quite nervous” you took a sip of the bitter drink, hoping the alcohol would help you.

“Why?” You shrugged, not actually sure why you were feeling like that. It was just a party, you’ve been to parties before, it’s not like you didn’t know how to socialize. The boy just laughed at your silence “maybe your anxiety has a name and a face?” You looked at him ready to retort but he cut you, “you two are so fucking dumb I swear to god. If you just stopped being such idiots and fucked already it would solve all your problems” he said and took a gulp of his cup, drinking the whole content and walking to the door “and ours too”

“JUNGWOO!”

He just smiled mischievously and left the room, leaving you alone with your cup and your thoughts.

Like your friend did, you took a big gulp of your cup, drinking all the content on it. One last check in the mirror and one last deep breath before going out to the actual party. You looked around, recognizing some faces here and there from classes or seeing around campus. Mark waved at you from the kitchen, asking you to meet him.

“Hey, y/n! You look gorgeous tonight” he grabbed your hand making you swirl around to show the outfit.

“Thank you, you’re not so bad yourself either” you noticed he was with some friends you recognized from seeing around the campus and one of them in your class. “Hey! Renjun, right? You’re in my literature class”

“Yep. That’s me” he smiled at you. “I didn’t know you were the girl stuck with Mr nice boy here” you laughed at Mark’s face from the nickname.

“Yes, but he made it for the name tho, he was really nice to me” he smiled proudly making you giggle. Mark was a grown man, but sometimes acted like a cute child and you found that endearing.

You heard someone call your name and excused yourself from the group of boys and searched for the owner of the voice, finding a lost Ten in a sea of sweaty bodies.

“I’m not used to these types of parties” he said to you, hands on his chest as he held his heart before opening a big smile “hey! nice to talk to you in person” you smiled and nodded. “Wanna grab some drinks and go outside? So we can talk better” you agreed before going back to the kitchen to grab some cups and beers, earning a mischievous grin from Mark.

You walked past the people dancing and went to the backside of the dorm, there were fewer people there, but somehow it was still crowded.

“I swear these boys know all the campus,” you said, taking a sip of your beer.

“They do indeed. During the games season, the whole university divides into 127 versus EXO. They could be idols if they wanted just with the number of fans they have around the campus” you laughed at him.

Ten seemed to be a nice guy and you were glad he was in some of your classes because now you didn’t have to feel so alone and lost. You spend hours talking to each other, only stopping to refill your cups. It was easy to open up to him, to talk about random things as well as personal things.

Somehow, you felt like you two have been friends forever, instantly clicking.

“So yeah… I guess that sums up my stay in the 127” you finished talking, taking a deep breath and looking at your empty cup. The alcohol already dizzying your mind a little.

“I completely understand you” Ten took the last sip of his own cup and looked at you, “when I first arrived at NCIT I used to have a crush on johnny too” you looked over at him, a little shocked by the reveal. “I know. I know. But it was just a crush. But how could I not, right? That tall american god with a warming smile and addicting laugh was the one welcoming me to the campus, I thought I was in heaven” he laughed at himself and you followed along.

“I can feel my eyes getting heavy, we should grab my notes before I forget”

“Good memory because I had totally forgotten already” he lifted himself from the ground and gave his hand for you to hold, helping you lift yourself. Still holding hands, you pulled himself with you to your room.

You were too drunk and caught up in the conversation to notice that from across the garden a pair of eyes watched you intensely, trying to read your signs while talking to Ten. Johnny was trying to see if you two were flirting or just talking, knowing that the Thai boy also majored in design. The girls around him and Jaehyun trying their best to catch his attention but he was too focused on you. The way you laughed so freely with the boy, smiling at his words and nodding your head every so often. The way you two would touch each other's arms or legs while talking, being too close for his good.

So when he saw you two go inside the house holding hands, his drunk heart spoke louder than his mind and he went after you two. He didn’t even know what he was going to do or say, he just knew he needed to stop that.

He followed you two to your room and when he found the door closed his heart sunk down his stomach. ‘They are together’ was all his mind could think and clouded with a fit of jealousy that even he knew he had, he opened the door, finding him sitting on the bed as you handed him some paper.

“Johnny?” you were about to scold him when you noticed his heavy breathing. “Are you okay? Do you need help?” the tall boy looked at Ten before looking back at you, and without having a second thought he hugged you.

The action took you by surprise first but nonetheless, you hugged him back, enjoying his warm embrace and how your head fitted perfectly on his chest. Ten took the chance to leave the room, closing the door behind him.

“Is everything okay in there?” Jaehyun, who came after his friend, asked concerned.

“Oh yes! And something tells me that will be even more okay after a while” he winked at Jaehyun who got the hint and went straight to tell the others.

Johnny kept holding your body for a while, just enjoying the feeling of your body against him, so close to him. Not that you were complaining, quite the opposite. You were adoring the feeling of his big hands going up and down on your back, soothing your racy and drunk mind; the sound of his heart beating unrhythmically on your ears as you pressed your face to his chest; the musky yet soft smell of his cologne that you learned to recognized by distance filling in your lungs.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol that was enhancing the feeling, but you felt like you needed him even closer to you.

“John…” you whispered against his chest, feeling his heartbeat even faster.

He finally let you go from his embrace, looking at your eyes. His right hand found its way to your face, thumb caressing the cheek as you felt heat rise upon the spot. “You’re so beautiful” the words barely left his mouth, like it was just for him to listen, but you did as well.

“Johnny, I-”

“Look, I don’t even know what to say to you right now. You are clouding my mind ever since you’ve arrived and I don’t know what to do or to say”

You smiled at him, getting on your tiptoes to get closer to his height. “Then let me do it for you” and with that being said, you closed the distance between you two joining your lips together.

The first few seconds consisted of you testing the water and Johnny trying to regain himself from the shock. It was just a soft peck, a touch of lips, just a taste that Johnny was dying to know.

You broke the kiss but as soon as you did Johnny seemed to regain his conscience and pulled you back to him by your waist, kissing you again, this time with more urgency. Lips clashing together hands nervous and wandering all over each other's bodies. At that moment everything felt right, the way your bodies fitted perfectly to each other, the way your lips seemed to know the perfect timing, completely in sync. Oh and the taste! To Johnny you tasted like the most delicious and sweet cherry liquor, the alcohol mixing with the taste of your cherry chapstick. He could live in that taste.

It was just when the lungs started to ache with the lack of air that you two broke the act, eyes instantly meeting.

“Fuck” was the first thing he said, laughing at himself.

“What? Was it that bad?” you asked quite concerned and he pecked you again.

“Quite the opposite, my dear” a sweet peck on the nose. “I am fucked because I can’t seem to get enough of you”

“Oh in that case… I can spend the night here… Sleeping, Johnny” you added when you saw his face. “The girls at the dorm don’t like me anyway so, it’ll be good”

“You’ll spend the night with me and we can spend the night talking and actually getting to know each other and eventually we can kiss”

“Eventually?” you raised an eyebrow, chuckling at him.

“Ok… maybe we can kiss more than talk” you nodded, hugging him by the neck.

“I like this idea a lot”.

Johnny carried you two still hugging to the bed, and laid with you there, kissing your forehead before going back to kiss your lips again

[hausofmamadas]

So like ….. i know you didn’t write this for an exchange but by god if this doesn’t feel like a personalized fuckign gift to me, okay. i am sobbing

═

✷ Was it painful? Sure. Should she have seen it coming? Most definitely. Because that’s how it always ended for her.

OHHHKAYYYY COME👏🏽THRU👏🏽 WITH THAT INTERNAL MONOLOGUE BC YOU KNOW I LIVE FOR THAT SHIT

✷ It always ended before it even truly got started. There was such a specific brand of pain in that.

The way I am reading this like pulled up my lawn chair, got an obscenely huge sized popcorn, chewing on it like a squirrel as if this is a gift just for me bc like the way this just matches my entire hc for her SOOO HARDDDDN LIKE IM JUST VIGOROUSLY NODDING YES INTO MY PHONE

✷ Being shot down in business or in romance was one thing. But managing to get shot down in business and in romance, by the same person at essentially the same time, was another thing.

And somehow it had happened to her twice.

When I tell you I gay-gasped and clutched my pearls for JYEEESUS bc I’m like, twice gorl??!????? Who?????? Who besides Dina is it?????

✷ It felt almost sickening to think about how wrong she had been about him. “El último hombre decente en México.”

FUUUUUCKXIISISKSKSKSK AND THEN YOU HAD TO COME UP IN HERE AND SLAP ME IN THE FACE WITH THIS “El último hombre decente en Mexico” A PING PONG PADDLE bc like I was just asking who else besides Dina and ofc, like it’s so obvious I actually forgot about it and then to see that line after we all know what happenns is juuuusjdjdjejejeje and also can we all pls moment of silence at how effectively you’ve dropped in a line directly from the show. Like we all do it bc it’s fanfic, but I feel like knowing when and where to quote from the source is an art in fanfic, in itself and I may say you are mastering that art perfectly, okay

✷ Fucking Miguel. She’d given him too much credit back then, too much of her time, her attention.

SKSKSKSKKSKS IM HOWWWWWLINGKSJDN bc isn’t just the most meta thing of all time sksksks like I’m shaking my head just thinking, “gorl, same. Ya perdimos el tiempo con ese pendejo, tú lo sabes.”

✷ The best she could do was not waste any more time on him. Not give him any more brain space.

NO OKAYYYYSKSKSKSJ BUT I swear I didn’t read ahead sksksksksn when I was just talking about wasting time on him. No, you’re just actually tapping into my braincell and running with it THAT WELLSKSKSKSK

✷ The ache that was familiar to her now had felt so new and debilitating back then.

GODDDDDD OKAY but this????????? THIS IS SO FUCKING REAL???? Like I don’t wanna say it’s the most real thing you’ve ever written bc you’ve written so many real things but like this ranks amongst the top ten bc like that is e x a c t l y what that first, new heartbreak feels like!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Like it shatters your soul so much you feel it in your body but the older you get, the more room you make for it so like every heartbreak after, even if it’s deeper and more profound and actually hurts more, it can’t match the sheer shock of that first one UHGHHHFHHDHD AND IM FEELING IT WITH HER AND IM SHAKING YOU BY THE SHOULDERS FOR MAKING ME FEEL IT WITH HER BC HOW VERY DARE YOU (affectionate)

✷ Miguel was so far in her rearview at this point that he wasn’t worth being in pain over anymore.

ES LA NETA, MI MANA!!!!!!!!!!! PUES NO NECESITAMOS ESA VERGA, Y QUE SE VAYA ALASHINGADA👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

✷ Besides, all of that shit with Miguel paled in comparison to the hole that Dina had put through her chest.

GODDDD OKAY ONCE AGAIN IM— bc that betrayal reallt was like as a viewer, so. fucking. crushing. for me. Like they were really going for it and doing all the things better than any of the men in the show, I might add. Maybe not money-wise but operationally, in terms of like efficiency and lack of bullshit drama/work dynamics. Like they were a fucking well oiled machine compared to Miguel’s operation at that point sksks

✷ There were plans and paperwork but there were also shared smiles and cigarettes that Dina insisted on lighting for her.

AND CIGARETTES THAT DINA INSISTED ON LIGHTING FOR HER????????????? I MEAN— I AM— CAN YOU EVEN STAND IT???????? CAN YOU STAND HOW THAT’S SOMEHOW THE MOST FUCKING DINA THING IVE EVER HEARD AND IM MAD I DIDNT THINK OF IT AND IM SAD FOR ISABELLA BUT IM HAPPY THIS EXISTS JUST IN THE WORLD AS A CONCEPT

✷ To an outsider looking in, it would’ve been impossible to tell what was tears and what was water from the faucet, but Isabella knew.

YOU REALLY ARE ON A WARPATH WITH THIS SHIT RIGHT HERE because I shit you not, I can actually feel the sensation of like knowing the difference between the hot tears and the cold water from the faucet bc like, let’s be honest, we’ve all been there before

✷ It all looked so dramatic—tears and running makeup and the deep pout she was sporting. All that flair and it still wasn’t enough to encapsulate how she was actually feeling.

NOOOOOSTOOOOPPPSNEJEJ bc once ahead you’ve just unscrewed the lid on my skull and plucked out the braincell labeled “Isabella Bautista hc” bc somehow this is like?????? almost my entire thesis for her as a character, like it’s so easy to get distracted by her looks bc can we moment of silence for actuallt how stunning she is but there’s so much more even under the surface and no one bothers to look and idk what it is about this that encapsulates that but it really does

✷ Not to mention that it wasn’t as though Dina was at home shedding any tears over her in return.

Skskskksksn not me cackling evilly to myself all just, “if I was writing your love story, she would be. Don’t worry girl” KEKW

✷ What she was feeling wasn’t that loud. It was quiet, and heavy. It was real and honest in a world where honesty didn’t pay.

OH FUCJ OFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF, OKAY????????????? IT WAS REAL AND HONEST IN A WORLD WHERE HONESTY DOESNT PAY????? Like I’ve written about characters being stunned stupid, but I don’t think I’ve ever actually been stunned stupid until now I’ve been plenty just stupid, but no, not stunned stupid

✷ Maybe that was the whole problem. She was trying to be transparent with people who wouldn’t ever be capable of returning the favor, in business or in their relationships.

And once again, just completely nailing every thematic target in my head while also making me :woahdeeby: at the sheer articulateness of the prose bc she’s nothing if not an articulate asf woman

✷ People didn’t change that way. Or, at least, they didn’t change that way for her.

OHHHSKSJSJSJSJSBWB STOOOOPPP bc I read this and was immediately “I’d change that way for you. A whole legion of fans/viewers would change that way for you” and then immediately after just *cough* Chepe *cough* he would change that way for you

✷ She knew that the longer she stared at herself, the more she would spiral, trying to make sense of people who had proven to her that they weren’t worth the effort it would take to try and piece them apart.

I swear to Jesus Christ on the actual cross, you’re trying to send me to an early grave with this shit “people who had proven to her that they weren’t worth the effort it would take to try and piece them apart.” Like it slaps so hard and I never expected to die by slap but like if it is in fact my time and i do feel very near death at this point then wow, what a way to go y’know

✷ She knew that the longer she stared at herself, the more she would spiral, trying to make sense of people who had proven to her that they weren’t worth the effort it would take to try and piece them apart.

AND NOW WE KNOW WHY SHE’D RATHER HAVE A MAJESTIC, BEAUTIFUL, GIANT-ASS, GERMAN SHEPHERD BC ALL YALL MOTHERFUCKERS HAVE DONE HER SO GODDAMN DIRTY IM FUCKIGNKSKDJDNS INCONSOLABLE RN

✷ It was always so easy, when she crawled into bed this late at night and finally shut the lamp off, to feel like her house, her room, her bed were all too big for just her.

IN👏🏽CON👏🏽SO👏🏽LA👏🏽BLE, DO YOU HEAR ME????????

✷ And she was about to do it again when she finally thought better of it. Sitting up, she grabbed and tossed a few of her pillows from the bed to the floor, not caring where they landed in the darkness ... finally allowing herself to take up as much space as she wanted, as much space as she could, right in the center of it. Laying on her back, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness, she took the first easy breath that she had taken all night, and finally let her eyes close.

I mean I— like I don’t evennnnnn know where to begin bc truly this ending feels like you wrote it just for me bc I can make everything about myself soooooooiiiii well like as someone who’s single, who lives alone with two majestic, beautiful, not-giant-ass cats who’s spent the last year sorting through the mind-fuck of ending a five year relationship and figuring out like all the subconscious stupid mostly gendered but not always expectations that I didn’t realize were playing a part in the breakdown of that relationship and realizing like actually what’s mine, what do I want vs what others have made me think I should want but don’t actually, inherently want, like the entire metaphor of taking up space in her bed, deciding to just spread out like that bc fuck it, this is where we are. Like I’m literally about to go to sleep and I’m going to do the exact same fucking thing bc I’ve never done that before, and why shouldn’t I and GODDDDDDD TAY YOU REALLY JUSTJSJRIRJIEISJDISJSIIWN

The Same Mistakes

An Isabella Bautista fic

For Day 4 of @whumpril 2023: ache

Warnings: 18+, language, angst

Word Count: 1.1k

A/N: dedicated to my fave isabella stan @hausofmamadas. Thank u for inspiring me to write this 😌💞

Narcos Mexico Taglist: @narcolini @garbinge @ashlingnarcos @purplesong1028 @cositapreciosa @southotheborder @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

With each tear that sprung into her eyes and proceeded to trickle down the side of her face, Isabella continued to chastise herself. Was it painful? Sure. Should she have seen it coming? Most definitely. Because that’s how it always ended for her.

It always ended before it even truly got started. There was such a specific brand of pain in that. It felt foolish to say, but she swore that she could actually feel the ache in her chest when she thought back on it all.

Maybe it hurt because the endings, the rejections, were always two-fold. Being shot down in business or in romance was one thing. But managing to get shot down in business and in romance, by the same person at essentially the same time, was another thing. It was a much worse thing.

And somehow it had happened to her twice.

She shook her head at herself, ignoring the tears for a moment as she rewound it all in her head. It felt almost sickening to think about how wrong she had been about him. “El último hombre decente en México.” Just the thought of saying those words now put a knot in her stomach and bile in her throat. Fucking Miguel. She’d given him too much credit back then, too much of her time, her attention.

There was no getting any of that back now. The best she could do was not waste any more time on him. Not give him any more brain space.

The rejection and betrayal of Miguel had hurt in the moment. The ache that was familiar to her now had felt so new and debilitating back then. Now, though, she felt more anger towards him than she did heartbreak. Miguel was so far in her rearview at this point that he wasn’t worth being in pain over anymore.

Besides, all of that shit with Miguel paled in comparison to the hole that Dina had put through her chest.

That was something that had snuck up on her. It hurt in a different way, maybe because it mattered more. Maybe because there was business, of course, but there was also the way that Dina would look at her. There were plans and paperwork but there were also shared smiles and cigarettes that Dina insisted on lighting for her. There was work, because there had to be work or else it wouldn’t have been Dina. But there was more—there was the two of them.

Or, so she had thought.

She’d been wrong, again, and this time it hurt so much more. Her chest felt like it was going to cave in on itself as she washed the makeup from her face. To an outsider looking in, it would’ve been impossible to tell what was tears and what was water from the faucet, but Isabella knew.

The last few traces of mascara trailed down her cheeks as she cleaned it from her lashes. It all looked so dramatic—tears and running makeup and the deep pout she was sporting. All that flair and it still wasn’t enough to encapsulate how she was actually feeling.

Not to mention that it wasn’t as though Dina was at home shedding any tears over her in return.

But also maybe it wasn’t enough simply because it wasn’t right. What she was feeling wasn’t that loud. It was quiet, and heavy. It was real and honest in a world where honesty didn’t pay.

Maybe that was the whole problem. She was trying to be transparent with people who wouldn’t ever be capable of returning the favor, in business or in their relationships. Of all the mistakes she’d made, her biggest one had been thinking that either of them would be different with her. People didn’t change that way. Or, at least, they didn’t change that way for her.

She splashed some more warm water on her face before patting it dry. No lipstick, no long lashes—this was a different kind of transparent. This was the side of her that neither of them had gotten to know. They could’ve. She would’ve let them. But they didn’t want to. And she had to somehow learn to be alright with that.

Pushing her hair back behind her shoulders, she did her best to take a deep breath and convince herself that she was going to be alright. It wasn’t as though she really had another choice at this point. Despite the radiating pain in her chest, she repeated it to herself over and over again: She wasn’t going to make the same mistakes again.

She could still see the tears lingering on the rims of her eyes, begging to fall. She raked her teeth over her bottom lip before shaking her head at herself and reaching over to turn off the light in her bathroom. She knew that the longer she stared at herself, the more she would spiral, trying to make sense of people who had proven to her that they weren’t worth the effort it would take to try and piece them apart.

The bathroom door clicked shut quietly behind her as she walked out. The soft sound was the only noise in her otherwise silent house. She had turned on the lights as she walked through her home, leaving a trail in her wake. Now, though, she repeated the same process over only this time she was turning all of the lights back off and sending her whole house into darkness.

The only light that was left on in the house came from the lamp beside her bed, bathing her mattress and sea of pillows in warm yellow light. She stared at her bed for a moment before finally taking another deep breath and pulling the blanket back on her side of the bed. Although, really, both sides were her side because she couldn’t remember the last time that someone had been there to occupy the half opposite of her.

It was always so easy, when she crawled into bed this late at night and finally shut the lamp off, to feel like her house, her room, her bed were all too big for just her. It was so easy to get lost in the thoughts of having someone else there, feeling like she should have someone else there. Maybe that just came with the territory of missing people.

So many nights she’d spent curled up on her side of the bed, making herself smaller in a mattress that felt too large for just her. And she was about to do it again when she finally thought better of it. Sitting up, she grabbed and tossed a few of her pillows from the bed to the floor, not caring where they landed in the darkness. With the pillow that she had left, she situated it in the middle of the mattress, finally allowing herself to take up as much space as she wanted, as much space as she could, right in the center of it. Laying on her back, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness, she took the first easy breath that she had taken all night, and finally let her eyes close.

[yanderecrazysie]

Rigged [DEAL WITH THE DEVIL COLLAB]

Pairings: Tsukishima Kei x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, attempted murder, DUBCON, mentions of baby trapping, mentions of breeding, manipulation, swearing, Tsukishima being kind of a jerk

Special: This is for the Deal With The Devil collab with one of my favorite authors on tumblr: @seijorhi and a bunch of other awesome tumblr authors!

Notes: I’ve never written this far into NSFW before, so I hope this turns out okay! O_O I hope you guys enjoy eek! It turned out a LOT longer than I expected, too.

Summary: You didn’t want to go to him for help but you had no other choice. It’s just too bad his game was rigged from the start.

rig

/verb/

manage or conduct (something) fraudulently so as to produce a result or situation that is advantageous to a particular person.

“I’m heading out, Dad!” The wane smile that forced its way onto your face stretched your cheeks and chapped lips in a way that hurt almost as much as the insincerity behind it. Your father saw right through your facade, of course, but there was no way he could guess how much more difficult it was to produce today than any of the previous days.

Walking out of that rundown shabby shack, your bare feet leaving imprints in the dusty soil under you… as unfortunate as this turn of events was, you knew that you couldn’t go on this way. Not for your sake, but your family’s. Your father’s.

The obsidian-black vehicle silently waiting for you looked anything but welcoming. Your once-confident footsteps faltered as your legs began to tremble. “You can do this” became “you have no other choice”. And, God, the knowledge that your choices were gone sent endless blows to your heart.

You had never been so thankful for silence as you were on the ride to your doom. No awkward chitchat or pleasantries were exchanged between the driver and yourself. It was much better that way. Talking meant thinking and thinking meant dwelling on the reason you would be talking to the chauffeur in the first place.

The walk through the mansion was just as silent as the ride there, but a part of you was less comforted by the quiet this time. Now, you wanted nothing more than to distract yourself from your surroundings.

So big, so beautiful, and so horrible. It reminded you so much of your old home- one that you could never step foot in again. Reduced to rubble beyond repair.

How ironic that a once-successful architect lost his house (and fortune) to a small storm. Your father’s work opportunities reduced to rubble as well.

Truly beyond repair.

You were standing in front of him much too quickly for your liking.

“My, my, my, (Y/n), I thought you were done with this sort of work. What brings you to me with such a sudden, desperate request for employment?”

You bit your tongue so viciously that the coppery taste of blood seeped into your wounded taste buds, “My family isn’t doing too well financially, so I thought it would be best to get a job… Tsukishima.”

Bile rose in your throat with the choked force you used to utter his name. He truly made you sick.

“‘Not doing too well financially’,” the tall man mocked your words, a mischievous smirk spreading across his lips, “I’d say that’s quite the understatement. I’ve heard that every company within 200 miles has turned him down. Probably because he’s too incompetent to build his own house correctly.”

You wanted to defend your father. You wanted to scream at the disgustingly smug man before you. You wanted to ask why the fuck he chose your family to target for his sadistic amusement.

But you couldn’t.

Not if you wanted to put food on your family’s table for your mother, father, little brothers, and you to survive another day.

“No one in town will hire me, as I’m sure you’re well aware. You said you had a job for me and you’re the only one who will hire me.”

The only one who will hire me because you’ve spread rumors about every member of my family to every business in this damned town.

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, his smirk becoming even more mocking somehow, “What makes you think I’d hire you?”

Your heart sank.

“I mean,” he continued, cutting off any attempt at a rebuttal, “your skills are pathetic, really. You suck at everything you do. I could easily find a decent assassin in the back alley of this street. In fact, I could probably pay him less than what you’re begging for, too.”

“Please, Tsukishima,” your voice came out in a pitiful whimper that made your insides twist in self-revulsion, “I need this… I’ll do anything… just please.”

A noncommittal hum was your answer, prompting you to fall to your knees and truly beg. In that moment, you hated yourself more than you ever had. But you had no other choice.

“Please, please, please Tsukishima, I’ll do anything, please…” you were bawling, salty streams running down your face and dripping to the expensive carpet you kneeled on.

He heaved a sigh and lazily slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Fine. But I do want you to agree to one condition. In writing.”

“Yes?” your head perked up, your heart soaring in a sudden whirlwind of hope that had your head spinning from the emotional whiplash.

A prewritten paper was pushed across the wooden desk he sat at, graced with his delicate handwriting. The page’s contents froze the blood in your veins, but, regardless, you signed your name on the line he wordlessly indicated.

“If I fail to complete the assassination of Yamaguchi Tadashi within the allotted time (one week), I agree to surrender my life to Tsukishima Kei.”

That last line sent shivers down your spine, but...

You had no other choice.

But, even as you internally repeated the reassurance on the ride back to the pile of sticks you called home, you deflated with the confidence you were losing bit by bit.

You kind of wished the chauffeur talked during this car ride.

This time the silence was deafening.

One week. That was more time than you’d ever been given. The previous record was five days. This assassination should have been a piece of cake.

So why was this one so much more difficult than any you’d had before?

All you really had to go off was a picture Tsukishima had shown you and a name. A few tips from some… unsavory… people had you standing in front of the Yamaguchi household within the same day.

But those damned rich people had security so tight you almost wondered if they knew you were coming. You didn’t make it to the window you planned to sneak through before security was tossing your ass onto the sidewalk you started on.

Another tip came through, letting you know that the humiliating experience was for all for nothing. The Yamaguchi family was vacationing abroad in England. You had no money for a plane ticket, so the struggle of becoming a stowaway befell you.

Three days into the mission and you had no idea where to find your target and an entire country to search.

Then a tip came through! It wasn’t a vacation, but a business trip! Yamaguchi was pitching a million-dollar idea to a company miles away from the airport. Hitchhiking was never fun, but it was necessary this time around.

Unfortunately, it turned out Tadashi’s father was the Yamaguchi that was meeting with the company. “Questioning” his father led you to a new destination.

The damned man was in Brazil, catching up with some of his old friends.

You were on the fifth day by the time you made it there. Sweltering heat, the only food in your belly being food scraps from garbage cans, and exhaustion… but worst of all, you still had no idea where Yamaguchi was.

A few more tips and you miraculously found the group of friends meeting up, but no one matched the picture you were given. Not a single one of them knew where Yamaguchi was, saying that they hadn’t seen him in a couple years.

You should have guessed his father had lied and you berated yourself on your mistake. On the trip back to Japan, a sickening feeling swirling in your belly overtook you, only worsened tenfold when you looked at the time.

11:46 pm. The end of the seventh day, and, subsequently, your life was less than 15 minutes away. All you wanted to do was sneak off to your family for one last goodbye...

Tsukishima was waiting for you in the airport lobby, his obvious smirk screamed “victory” to you. You trailed behind him like a leashed puppy being led by its owner through the pouring rain.

Time was up, so it was time to die.

You had no other choice.

“So,” Tsukishima sat at the mahogany desk, his grin too much for you to look at, “I believe seven days have passed and, according to our contract, that means you’ve failed to complete your objective in time.

Your voice wavered, even as you held back the tears and straightened up, “I have a request, Tsukishima.”

“You’re not really in a position to bargain, you know,” he quirked an eyebrow upwards, but gave you an indulgent smile, motioning for you to continue with his hands, despite the contradiction in his words.

“When you kill me, can you please make sure my family gets some sort of money? I-I know I failed but… my little brothers are just children. They’re not old enough to get a job, even if our reputation would let them- I mean, the eldest of them won’t be an adult for five years…”

“You want to give back to your family?” Tsukishima hummed to himself, his expression impossible to read, “That’s noble of you, but I’d expect nothing less.”

He straightened up in the leather chair, his smirk fading into a smile that seemed surprisingly gentle… fond, even, “I’ll give money to your family after you die, alright?”

You nodded silently, not trusting your voice. Your lip quivered as you let the tears flow freely from your eyes. Tears not just of terror, but of relief. At least your failure would still benefit your family, which was your goal in the first place.

You just wouldn’t be there to enjoy it with them.

“(Y/n).” His voice still held that victorious smugness in the tone, but the pitch was softer, almost as though he was soothing a child or calming a stray cat. Your eyes were too blurry with tears to see anything more than his figure rounding the desk and approaching you.

“Can… can my death be quick and painless? I know I-I’m asking a l-lot b-but-” you burst into tears, blubbering too much to get the words out. It was… it was real. You were going to die. You were never going to hug your dad, help out your mom, and play with your little brothers again. Their faces flashed through your head as your vision blurred more under the flood of tears.

“I’m not going to kill you.”

You couldn’t believe what you’d just heard. Surely you were imagining that he’d said you weren’t going to die at his hands, right? You were in denial, or something, right?

The tall blond must have recognized the confusion on your tear-stained face, because he repeated exactly what you’d thought he said, “I’m not going to kill you.”

He leaned in close, his warm breath playing across your cheeks and cooling the salty tears that wettened them. His slender fingers slid under your chin and angled your head to face yours.

His eyes. Oh God, the expression in them… You’d never seen this look in Tsukishima’s golden eyes before and it shook you to the core. Protected by just a thin barrier of glass were his golden-brown eyes, the pupil blown wide with soft adoration.

That expression… it reminded you of the time your youngest brother found the cutest little white kitten in the alley near their shack. Before your mother dismissed the idea of keeping it (there were too many mouths to feed already), his eyes shimmered with excitement and love for the tiny bundle of fur he cradled in his arms and cuddled his face into.

The same expression… it matched how Tsukishima was looking at you now. As if you were the only thing in the world that mattered and he finally had gotten it.

You were fucking terrified.

“The contract said ‘I agree to surrender my life to Tsukishima Kei.’ It didn’t specify that I’d kill you, only that your life would belong to me. That you would belong to me.”

“W-why?” This was all too much… you felt like your head might explode from the spinning tornado of jumbled thoughts whirling through your brain.

His hand wrapped around yours and you allowed him to lead you from the office room, too numb to fight back against him. While you walked, he explained himself to you, his tone holding barely-contained excitement in every syllable. It made you nauseous.

“I’ve loved you for a really long time you know… you barely even noticed me, despite all of our classes together. I signed up for every single one of your classes, even though our majors were different. But did you ever try to keep our conversations going? Or reach back out to me like I did to you? No, not even once.”

His voice grew darker as anger replaced excitement, “So I had your mansion demolished, then spread those rumors about your family. I mean, I know you already knew about the rumors, you’re not stupid after all…”

He… he did this? It wasn’t the storm after all?

“But when I saw your devastated expression I… I realized I didn’t do that for revenge. I didn’t like seeing your suffering as much as I thought I did. I wasn’t over you, and I’m still not. I devised a plan to finally bring you back to me, but you remained so stubborn.”

He gritted his teeth for a moment, then relaxed, “But you’re here now, and that’s all that mattered. Yamaguchi Tadashi is my best friend, I made sure he knew about my plan and he was more than willing to help. I hid him in Brazil and placed guards around him and his house, just in case. They were ordered not to kill or badly hurt you.”

So that’s why they didn’t do anything to me except kick me out… and they really did know I was coming…

“I had people all over give you false tips to lead you astray. Plane trips to other countries can take a long time, can’t they?”

It was your turn to grit your teeth, but you sure as hell weren’t relaxing afterwards.

“You weren’t actually supposed to go to Brazil, but my spies made sure to alert Yamaguchi before you found him, so he wouldn’t be surprised when you showed up. He told me you came right up to him and asked if he’d seen himself! He lied straight through his teeth, obviously. That picture I gave you, by the way, is a random stock photo. I was honestly surprised you didn’t Google him or anything, but it worked out for me. You didn’t recognize him at all.”

He led you into what appeared to be his bedroom, judging by the king-sized bed in the center of the room.

“Now, my sweet (Y/n), get on your knees.”

You knew what was going to happen to you at this point. If his big supervillain-esque reveal wasn’t enough of a giveaway, the lust clouding his eyes sealed the deal.

There was no point in fighting him, so you dropped to your knees. Tsukishima eagerly unbuttoned and unzipped his dress pants, tugging out his hardened cock. It was long and veiny with a flushed tip. It wasn’t very thick, but its length made up for its girth.

“You know what I want you to do, don’t you?”

The legally-binding contract, Tsukishima’s influence, and your family’s safety- you had no other choice. Your hand reached out and your fingers wrapped around the shaft, your lips wrapping around the rounded tip.

Tsukishima let out a pleasured sigh above you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him. Humiliated, you forced yourself to take him into your mouth, gagging when his hips moved forward and the tip hit the back of your throat.

He hissed out praises while you reluctantly sucked his dick, nausea stirring in your stomach at the taste of his salty precum on your tongue. Finally, he gently pushed your head away, and you risked a look up at his face.

The once-composed, proper-looking stoic man looked like an absolute mess. His glasses were slightly askew and his face was bright red. He was panting- ragged loud breaths that blew across your face in uneven waves of air.

A shudder rolled through him and one of his trembling hands pointed at the large bed. “Strip and lay on your back.”

As you fumbled with your clothes, hot tears rolling down your face, his eager words assaulted your ears from behind you as he rambled on about you both, “You don’t need your old family, we’ll start our own! I need to continue the Tsukishima family line, and you’re good with your little brothers, so you’ll be great with our child! And we’re finally going to make love… oh God, (Y/n), I’ve been waiting years for this.”

You didn’t want to have a child with him. You didn’t want to be raped. You didn’t want this twisted infatuation he had for you, but...

You had no other choice.

[raibebe]

Love shot

Genre: Tooth rotting fluff Words: 8.590 Prompt: Hockey Player Jeno feat. best friend Jaemin, love letters? Warnings: none..?

A/N: This was written for @woahhwa​ for the @kafenetwork​ kafeholidays event! Hi Ru! I had so much fun talking to you when tumblr wasn’t eating my asks! I hope you liked this and it incorporates some of the things you said you liked. Also. Warning: I know absolutely nothing about hockey so please bear with me :] As always thank you to @burtonized​ for always listening to my rambles and telling me that my writing doesn’t suck. Also literally no one asked for me to put Johnny into this but I am a simple woman and miss him and his gorgeous hair. I am sorry for this horrible title...

The red numbers on the clock over the rink slowly counted down, the last minute of the game beginning. You had your hands tightly clutched together, sitting on the edge of the seat as you watched your home team in the orange and blue tricots trying to defend the last push of the opposing team. Mark Lee - on the defense - body checked the opposing wing player, who had been pushing forward, hardly into the banister, causing him to lose the puck. Quick on his feet like always, Ten snatched it from him and took a sharp turn to avoid the second wing player, using his smaller size to his advantage so he could push forward into the last third before the huge defender of the opposing team tackled him harshly. But like the genius player he was, Donghyuck had anticipated it, screaming Ten’s name at the top of his lungs so the elder had the time to pass the puck on to his wingplayer. Using his momentum from following Ten, Donghyuk pulled both of the opposing defenders towards him, leaving the star player of the team - Lee Jeno - free right in front of the goalie. A huge mistake. With a mischievous grin on his lips, Donghyuck waited until the very last second to pass the puck straight to Jeno who didn’t hesitate even for a second to take his shot: Hitting the puck with all his strength, he sent the rubber flying right past the goalie’s body, slamming into the net of the goal.

The crowd around you erupted in loud screams and cheers, everyone jumping up from their seats and celebrating the last minute goal as the red timer on the scoreboard ticked down to zero, the loud noise of a horn mixing with the cheers of the students. In the middle of all of this you were hugging your best friend, screaming loudly before turning back to look into the rink where the other boys had buried Lee Jeno beneath them, hockey sticks scattered around them. The other team had already angrily left the rink, collecting their stuff to make their way to the locker rooms when the boys finally let off and let their MVP breathe. Grinning broadly they took their helmets off one by one, shaking out their matted hair and just like after every game, the sight of Jeno’s midnight blue messy hair took your breath away. Once you could muster up the courage to talk to him, you wanted to ask if he had dyed it to match the color of their blue and orange jerseys. But even though you went to every single one of their home games and sometimes even went down to the rink to congratulate them, you had yet to speak more than three words with their handsome center forward player with the 23 on his back.

“Let’s go down to congratulate them, this was insane,” Jaemin said before already pulling you down the stairs against the tide of people that were already leaving. A couple of the player’s friends had already gathered at the rink, cheering them on and clapping them on their padded shoulders. You could make out the University’s heartthrob Johnny Suh - a volleyball player himself - fondly petting his best friend’s head which made Ten smile brighter than the harsh lights that illuminated the ice. A group of other boys from your year that you knew from a couple of your courses had rounded Donghyuck and Mark and looked like they were currently mocking the elder for his misplay that had led to the early goal of the opposing team, leaving their goalkeeper Yangyang almost no time to react. With a loud thud Jeno joined the circle, clinging to Mark’s back who cried out in pain from how hard the impact had been. The newest addition to the team, a tall freshman with the number 27 on his back, awkwardly shuffled on the ice before the team captain - Sicheng - pulled him over to where they were celebrating.

“Yooooo, boys this was sick!” Jaemin called out when he jumped down the last couple of steps before joining his friends who had stopped mocking Mark for a little while. But that wouldn’t be for long and you knew it. You had been their fan for quite some time now and knew that Donghyuck would not let Mark live and would bother him about it for a long time. “Watch your back, stupid,” you mumbled after your best friend who had been part of the team last year but had to quit playing for an undefined amount of time due to some issues with his back. He was the one who had originally gotten you into this sport which had led to your crush on Lee Jeno. So basically Na Jaemin was the reason you had the worst everlasting crush on a boy you barely knew and were way too shy to talk to even if he shared a ridiculous number of classes with you this year. But to Lee Jeno you must just be Jaemin’s weird friend he still knew from his childhood.

Slowly you approached the circle of boys, trying to hide as much of your face as possible in the bright orange scarf you had wrapped around your neck to shield yourself from the cold of the stadium. Jaemin was already retelling the highlights of the game in rapid-fire double time rapping speed, gesturing broadly and making the players laugh. “If you were to commentate the games they would probably be twice as fun to watch,” you spoke your mind when your best friend had to take a deep breath, making all of them stare at you which promptly lead to blood to rush to your face. “Yoooo, that would be such a good idea,” Mark broke the silence, his eyes wide, “Since you know all the rules and stuff.” “Also I wouldn’t be biased at all,” Jaemin just rolled his eyes. “Yeah, he can’t just trash talk the other team during the whole game,” Sicheng threw in. “But it would be fun,” Yangyang mused. He had finally managed to get all of his extra protective gear off, his dark hair hanging into his eyes. “You should try it, Jaem,” Jeno also agreed. “I’d rather join you on the ice, you know,” your best friend mumbled, shooting the rink a longing gaze. “You’ll be back with us in no time once your back is healed,” Sicheng smiled, patting him on the shoulder with his still gloved hand, “Just give me a call and I’ll unlock the rink for you to make a couple of rounds.” “What am I, a short track athlete?” Jaemin grumbled but nodded his head anyways. He had been an amazing sprinter until he had exchanged the goggles and tight suits for heavy padding and a stick some time in high school.

“What’s this gloomy atmosphere? We won guys!” Ten shouted over from where he had been talking to Johnny and some other upperclassman, “Let’s get out of these uniforms and have some food to celebrate, Sicheng is paying.” “I am what?” The team captain protested but his complaints were lost in the cheers of the younger members of the team who quickly scrambled to get to the lockers to shower and change, their stomachs always bottomless holes after an intense game. “Let’s go home then,” Jaemin suggested, raking a hand through his caramel hair. You could tell he was still sad about not being able to be with his boys but he made an effort to hide his inner struggle. “Jaem!” A voice called you back when you turned to climb up the stairs and Lee Jeno skidded effortlessly over the ice to roughly collide with the side of the rink again. “You know you can join us, right?” A smile spread over your friend’s lips but he shook his head. “I can’t leave this one all to herself.” “The more the merrier,” Jeno just answered, looking you straight in the eye which lead to your heart missing a beat or two. He was covered in sweat and his hair was matted to his head, he should not have looked this attractive to you with his stupid half-moon eye smile and mole beneath his right eye. “I- I don’t want to mess up your all-boys time,” you tried to politely decline, scolding yourself for stuttering like this. You did not need to make an even bigger fool out of yourself. “It’s fine, really. Mark’s girlfriend is probably going to join us as well,” Jeno reassured you, “I’ll see you two outside!” He quickly added before crossing the rink again to disappear into the lockers, not leaving you two any more chance to decline.

“We’re not going to say no to a free meal, are we?” Jaemin grinned. “Wipe that grin off your face Nana,” you grumbled, scolding yourself for going for comfortable and warm clothes instead of pretty ones. What would Jeno think of you in your oversized blue hoodie and orange scarf? “Stop stressing, I can hear you thinking,” your friend whined, pulling you out of the by now empty stadium. “I look like a potato.” “No you don’t. You look fine. Jeno is not into the whole dolled up thing anyways.”  Slapping his arm hard, you looked around if any of the players had already changed and overheard his comment. “You better keep your mouth shut, Na Jaemin or may god have mercy over you,” you hissed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he innocently blinked his eyes at you. “Na Jaemin, I swear to god. If you make me look like a fool in front of my crush that I should have never admitted to you, I WILL make you regret it.” “You don’t need me to make a fool out of yourself,” your best friend laughed, just barely dodging the punches you threw at him.

“Please be nice,” you whispered when the boys came out from the locker after a couple of minutes, their hair still damp from the shower they must have taken, their bags slung over their shoulders. Pictures of what a certain forward player must look like beneath his heavy padding and jersey flooded your mind for a second and you had to fight the heat that threatened to creep up on your cheeks. Mark’s girlfriend who had arrived a couple of minutes earlier and who you two had already told about the game, raced to fling herself into her boyfriend’s arms, giggling loudly when he almost toppled over from being thrown off balance. Somehow that image tugged at your heart and you wished that one day when you were finally not too shy to talk to Jeno, this could be the two of you.

Dinner was filled with a lot of loud laughter and just mildly annoyed waiters at the restaurant that had the best hot pot in town or so Sicheng claimed. But you really couldn’t even blame the poor waitress that had to deal with the hyped up hockey players. You mostly kept quiet, listening to their bickering and their stories. Donghyuck only retold how Mark had messed up in today’s game about three more times until he earned himself a rather hard slap to the back of his head from both Mark and Jeno. During the whole time you tried to steal secret glances at the forward player, admiring how fluffy his hair got after it had dried and how his glasses would fog up from the heat of the food until he took them off with an adorable but also really annoyed huff, stuffing them into the pocket of his neon green hoodie that should have looked ridiculous but he could pull it off. At this point you thought that he would look good in a plastic bag. God you really had it bad for him.

“Alright children, it’s bed time,” Ten exclaimed after everyone’s bellies were full, clapping his hands, “We should leave quickly so Sicheng can pay for the meal.” The team captain just sighed and leaned back in his seat while the others quickly shuffled around to sort out their bags and their jackets to hurry out of the restaurant, muttering words of thanks to Sicheng. You felt bad for him and lingered behind for a little before pressing a note into his hands that he declined with a little smile. “It’s fine,” he shook his head, handing the money back, “One mouth more or less doesn’t matter.” “Thank you for the meal, Sicheng,” you smiled. “Thank you for your support, you’re at every of our games, aren’t you?” Flustered you followed him to the register where a woman took his card to pay for the meal. “I try to make it. Jaemin doesn’t like going alone when he’s not allowed to play and I really enjoy watching you guys play. Your freshman really did so well.” “Sungchan is really talented,” Sicheng nodded, “He is such a great assent to the team and he compliments Jeno well. He’ll give Jaemin a run for his money when he comes back.” Smiling, you nodded. “I hope he’ll recover fast, he really misses you guys.” Taking his card back, Sicheng grimaced at the receipt. “We all miss him.”

Stepping outside in the cold, you were glad you had brought your thick jacket, your breath came out in little white clouds and Jaemin’s nose was already red. “I thought you’d never come back out, I am freezing over here,” he complained. Rolling your eyes at your roommate, you quickly said goodbye to Sicheng who once again told Jaemin to give him a call if he wanted to use the rink to skate for a while. On the way over to your apartment a little off of campus, you both kept quiet, each lost in your own thoughts. Even through your thick layers of clothing, the cold began seeping into your bones and you buried your hands deep into the pockets of your jacket. But instead of the soft material of the inside of the pockets, your right hand came into contact with a neatly folded piece of paper. Confused you pulled it from your jacket and unfolded it. You didn’t remember stuffing that in there. In neat handwriting, a single sentence was written:

You look so pretty in blue.

What? You were so perplexed, you halted in your steps, staring at the piece of paper as if it would tell you what in the world was going on or how it had ended up in your pocket. Had one of the boys snuck the note into you jacket when they all had left before you and Sicheng? But why would any of them do that? What if... What if it had been Jeno? No, that couldn’t be. He was way out of your league and most definitely confident enough to tell you in person if he liked the honestly very much not special or pretty blue hoodie. “Hello? Earth to best friend?” Jaemin’s voice ripped you from your thoughts. He was standing a couple of steps in front of you, a questioning look on his features. “Did you just remember you left the stove on or something?” “N... No,” you muttered, shaking your head before shoving the note back into your pocket, catching up to Jaemin.

What you didn’t know was that would not be the last weird note you would find. The next one didn’t take long. You found it stuffed in your bag between your books on your second class of the day. Trying to not catch your friend’s attention so you wouldn’t have to explain the note, you carefully and secretly unfolded it to read the neatly written sentence.

You look great today, have a great start into the new week! Fighting!

Not unlike last time, you wondered who could have dropped the note into your bag. And when? Looking around the class you were currently in, your eyes caught on Lee Jeno’s midnight blue hair just a couple of seats in front of you. Had he been in your previous class as well? You couldn’t remember. But even if he had been, it was just wishful thinking that he had been the one to write the note. It was most likely a cruel joke someone was playing on you. Sighing you crumbled the piece of paper and focused back to what your professor was saying, trying to concentrate on taking notes instead of daydreaming while staring holes into Lee Jeno’s head like you had done way too often in this class. You weren’t very successful and when Jeno answered a question the professor had thrown at the class flawlessly, earning himself a couple of back pats from his friends that were seated around him, you couldn’t help but sigh. God, why did he have to be both smart and incredibly handsome? And on top of that a very talented hockey player.

A slap from your friend to your shoulder brought you back from your daydream to find the professor staring at you intensely. Shit. What had he asked? “Alright miss, I’d like a word with you after class. Now who can answer my question instead?” He spoke and you just wanted to ground to swallow you whole.

For the rest of the class you were just imagining all the worst case scenarios in your head of what the strict professor would scold you about. Would he make you do extra work for the class? Give you a bad grade all together? Or just humiliate you further? “Alright class, that will be it for today, you’re dismissed. Don’t forget to do the reading for next week and hand in your assignments on time,” the professor dismissed the class, immediately finding your eyes to nod his head sharply to indicate he hadn’t forget about you zoning out.

Discouraged after the scolding you had gotten from your professor about dozing off in his classes, you climbed the stairs to your seat to pack your stuff to go hide in your room until everyone would have forgotten how embarrassing the whole situation had been, especially Lee Jeno and his friends. But yet again another note was placed right on top of your notebook, seemingly written in a haste and carelessly ripped out of its original page.

Don’t take it to heart, it could have happened to anyone. Cheer up!

Okay maybe the someone who was writing you these notes actually wasn’t playing jokes on you and actually cared about you. You’d be lying if the few words hadn’t made you feel any better.

Over the next few weeks you found more and more notes. Some longer than others, some just a few hastily written words. Some were just a quick cheer up to help you get through a long day of class, some compliments about your outfit or your hair and some even little stories about the day of your admirer. Somehow you felt like you got to know him a little through his little messages. You even dared to say you looked forward to finding more and more notes.

One time your secret admirer even left you a coffee on your table at the library when you had gotten up from your seat to get more books to look up some information for the essay you were trying to finish. When you got back to your seat, you looked around quickly to see if the admirer was still around. But you only saw more students perched over books or their laptops, typing away. Just when you were about to get back to your own project, a white hoodie caught your eye between the dull lighting and brown colors of the library. Below a mop of blue hair, Lee Jeno shortly smiled at you from behind his glasses, toasting towards you with his own cup of coffee and you couldn’t help but notice that it was from the same shop the steaming cup in front of you was from. Picking it up, you toasted back and took a small sip to not completely burn your tongue before examining the cup which just said your name with a little heart on it. It could have been just a coincidence that Jeno chose to get coffee from the same place your admirer had. The shop was just a few meters from the library after all but the way Jeno had smiled at you, not his usual bright smile but something maybe a little more shy, made you believe it could actually have been him and you really hoped that he actually was.

But today you hadn’t found a single note from your admirer and for some reason that was really bothering you. He had managed to sneak you at least a little note every day for a while now. And you still hadn’t figured out how he did it. Or when. You didn’t leave your bag or jackets unattended for long periods of time and it seriously baffled by how sneaky he must be.

“Stop staring holes into the air and get back to work,” your coworker Yuta scolded you, clapping a hand on your back on his way past you. “I’m sorry, I was lost in my head,” you apologized but he just shrugged his shoulders as he collected the mugs a group of students had left behind. “Exams?” He asked as he came back, putting the mugs into the sink. “Something like that,” you lied. You really didn’t know the upperclassman well enough to vent to him about how someone you didn’t even knew who they were send you secret messages and somehow they hadn’t done it today yet. Before Yuta could ask any further questions, the bell on the door jingled happily, announcing the arrival of a new set of customers. “I’ll go, bring those to the back,” your coworker instructed you. Sighing, you bunched up your sleeves to stack up all the dishes that had been piling up in the front during the time Yuta and you had been too busy with orders to put them in the big dishwasher in the kitchen.

With a couple of freshly washed cups and plates you emerged back into the main room to see Yuta flirting with the group of girls that had just come in to probably order some way too overpriced season special with more sugar than actual coffee in it. Of course only after they had been completely charmed by the objectively speaking very pretty foreigner with a silver tongue. Rolling your eyes at the group, you instead made your way to where the customers were sitting to check if anyone new had come in while you were in the back. After most classes were over for the day, the cozy café usually filled up with students pretty fast; either to relax for a little before going to the library or to discuss group projects.

Today was no different and you easily spotted a group of boys from one of your courses squished together in one of the booths, your best friend smiling brightly at you when he saw you approach. “My favorite waitress is working,” he spoke, awkwardly hugging your waist from his sitting position. “You just want my employee discount,” you fondly rolled your eyes at a now pouting Jaemin, “So what can I get you.” You quickly collected all the boy’s orders including Jaemin’s horrendous deathpresso. “Oh, add another iced Americano, someone is still missing,” Donghyuck called after you when you had confirmed their orders, a knowing smirk on his lips. Quickly scribbling another one on your little notepad, you didn’t look where you were going and suddenly collided with a very solid chest and you were pretty sure you would have fallen if it was not for the customer’s quick reflexes. So instead of on the floor, you found yourself pressed against his chest, his perfume clouding your senses. “Careful where you’re going,” he said and you could already tell that your eyes would meet ones with the color of molten amber, hidden behind a cute pair of round glasses, before you even looked up to see Lee Jeno’s smile. “You... You too,” you stuttered, feeling your face heat up, quickly scrambling back a step. “Are you alright?” He asked, looking you up and down once. “Yeah, I was just taking your orders, I’ll be right back,” you tried to smile while trying to tell your heart to stop beating like you had just ran a marathon. “I’ll help you carry, we’re quite a few people.” “No, it’s fine really,” you quickly declined, “This is my job after all. “I feel bad for running into you though, let me help,” Jeno insisted, a slight pout on his lips that you really could not resist. When you ended up nodding, his whole face lit up with his famous eye smile and your insides might have just melted a little. While he was quickly putting his bag down and greeting his friends, you busied yourself with the orders. Yuta was still no help whatsoever, telling one of the girls an obnoxious story of how he had ended up at a university in Korea. You barely held back your laugh when the girls gasped, their eyes glued to Yuta. The story might have been impressive to you if you hadn’t heard it about 30 times already, always a little different but always pretty far from the actual truth.

“I didn’t know you worked here,” Jeno ripped your attention from your coworker when he leaned against the counter to watch you work the big coffee machine. “I was working in a different shop a little off campus before,” you smiled, focusing on pouring the milk into one of the cups of coffee to form a pretty picture. “You’re really good at making them look pretty,” Jeno complimented you, his cheeks tinted a rosy color. “It’s just practice,” you mumbled, hiding your own shyness behind the counter to quickly grab the cake slices the boys had ordered. An awkward silence hung over the two of you while you worked on finishing the other drink orders (it always took a ridiculous amount of time to make Jaemin’s) and your brain ran on overdrive trying to come up with a topic to talk to Jeno to fill up the silence while willing your hands to not shake and make a fool out of yourself in front of him.

“Do... Do you work between classes?” You chose to ask in the end, scolding yourself immediately for asking what must be the most lame, basic question ever. “I hardly have time between classes and practice,” Jeno explained nonetheless, scrunching his nose adorably to push up his glasses,” I’m here on a scholarship so I have to show results in hockey or I’ll be out.” “Ooh, I didn’t know that. But you’re really good so it shouldn’t be a surprise,” you spoke your mind before you could think about the words but as soon as it registered, your face immediately was heating up. Jeno just laughed awkwardly and scratched the back of his head. “I’m not bad I guess. It’s just a lot of practice, it’s nothing special,” he mirrored the words you had said earlier, an easy smile on his lips. “Even I can see you have an unfair amount of talent for hockey, Jeno.” At that he barked out a short laugh. “You should have seen me when I stood on the ice for the first time, I couldn’t even skate in a straight line without falling on my ass, no idea what the scouts saw in me when they talked to my mum to recruit me.” “I bet you’re just being modest,” you argued. “I am not I swear,” he laughed, “I was really bad but I trained a lot so I could make the team. I’m not like Donghyuck who can just skip half of practice because he’s hungover. I have to work for it.” “That makes it even more admirable,” you mumbled, not able to look him in the eye when you spoke the words even though you meant them with all your heart. “Th- Thank you,” Jeno stuttered and when you looked up at his face again, you could see that his ears were bright red. “I mean it,” you smiled and when he finally met your eyes you couldn’t help but get lost in his for a while.

“And you tell me to stop flirting with customers,” Yuta broke whatever moment you just had with Jeno and shoved you from the spot on the coffee machine. “I wasn’t,” you tried to argue but your colleague just clocked his tongue and rolled his eyes. “I... I wouldn’t mind if you were,” Jeno mumbled so quietly you had almost missed it, causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach and a smile to creep onto your lips again. “We should bring the drinks over,” you smiled, grabbing the tray that held the drinks so Jeno could take the one with the cakes. “Ye... Yeah, orders, drinks, sure,” he stuttered, grabbing the second tray and following you through the café back over to where his friends were seated. “I thought you would never come back,” Jaemin already whined, grabbing his deathpresso off of your tray. “It takes a while to make eight freaking extra shots of espresso,” you scolded your best friend while giving out the rest of the orders to the other boys who all agreed, joining in on telling Jaemin how unhealthy his coffee drinking habits were. “Let me know if you need anything else,” you smiled politely when everyone had gotten their respective drinks, leaving the boys to banter playfully.

Over the course of your shift, the boys stayed to study and ordered another round of hot drinks before they left just shy of the ending of your shift. Jeno threw you another shy smile and a little sweater pawed wave when they left the shop that almost send you into cardiac arrest. “I’ll clean that table and then head out,” you announced to Yuta who was glued to his phone, checking his twitter feed. Among the chaos of used napkins and dishes, you found a neatly folded piece of paper with your name neatly written on it, a little heart drawn in the corner that set you own one racing again. You quickly put it in your pocket and cleared the rest of the table, all but throwing the dishes into the dishwasher at the back so you could get out of your apron and take a look at the note your secret admirer had left. While you were changing into your warm jacket, you couldn’t help but to think and to hope that Jeno had left it for you. After all he had been at both the gatherings that had led to you finding these notes and he also shared lot of classes with you where he could technically have slipped you a note or two. And on top of that he had also been at the library when the coffee incident happened.

Once you stepped out of the café and into the cool air of the early evening, you sat down on one of the benches surrounding the building to read the little note in peace.

You look so cute when you’re concentrating on making pretty latte art, did you know that? I loved the little talk we had but I am too shy to talk to you. Can you tell by these notes? My friends all make fun of me for writing cheesy notes instead of manning up to actually talk to you. I don’t even know if you would want to meet me. But if you want to, then meet me at the ice rink tomorrow at 7pm. I’ll be waiting for you there, I promise.

You couldn’t hold in the little shriek of joy that made its way past your lips. It had to be Jeno. It couldn’t be anyone else. It had to be him. Holding the little note close to your furiously beating heart, you smiled and kicked your legs in joy before storing it carefully into your bag. Jaemin better be ready to help you choose an outfit for tomorrow and listen to you whine without asking too many questions about who you were actually going to meet.

When you arrived at the stadium the next day, clutching the note tightly in your hand, you double checked the time and carefully looked around before you tried to open the front door which to your surprise was actually unlocked. Taking a deep breath, you went in, closing the door firmly behind you before walking up to the second door that would take you to the bleachers. Slowly you pulled it open as well, hoping it wouldn’t make too much noise. The rink itself was just dimly lit, most of the lights turned off and on the ice there was a single figure skating around the perimeter, seemingly lost in their thoughts while aimlessly taking sharp turns that send pieces of ice flying, making the skids screech. You would have recognized that person between hundreds of other skaters, the midnight blue hair easily giving him away.

Jeno seemingly hadn’t noticed you yet and it gave you time to sort out your racing heart and thoughts. Had it really been him to write you all the sweet notes that you had begun to collect in a little box you hid from Jaemin in a box beneath your bed? Or was the universe playing a prank on you and it was just a coincidence that he was practicing right now, alone at night. But then again no one else was around and he really wasn’t dressed for practice, just wearing one of his big hoodies and jeans. It had to be his notes. And thinking back on it, he really had been the only person who had been at the same places, the notes had been showing up. From the dinner with the hockey team to the ones in your classes and at your work or in the library.

Slowly you made your way down the steps of the bleachers, keeping quiet so you wouldn’t disturb Jeno who was still skating around the rink. Once you arrived at the bottom row of seats, you took a seat next to a pair of skates and a pair of sneakers that probably belonged to Jeno. Sitting in silence, you watched his movements for a while. He was captivating to watch: Seeing him effortlessly glide over the ice before suddenly sprinting forward only to come to an abrupt halt or take a sharp turn. It was beyond you how he held his balance through it all.

Suddenly he halted in his moves completely to stare at the big clock on the back wall of the stadium that showed that it was fifteen minutes past seven already before he sighed deeply, raking a hand through his fluffy hair. Was he nervous? Nervous you wouldn’t come? Just when he was taking off, his eyes caught your figure and he stopped again, a big smile spreading across his face that made his eyes curl into the beautiful half-moon shape you adored. While you were busy trying to remember how to breathe, he was skating towards you, effortlessly jumping from the ice through a little door in the rink, walking towards you. “You came,” he beamed, kneeling down in front of you after he had grabbed the skates that were still lying next to you. “Yeah I did,” you answered, still not entirely sure what to make of this situation. With how fast your heart was beating, it must have climbed all the way up to your throat and you weren’t sure if you could have produced a proper sentence if you wanted to.

“I hope I didn’t misinterpret all of this,” Jeno mumbled while he carefully undid your shoelaces before slipping them off your feet, “And you’re just here to tell me to stop being creepy and not leave any more notes around.” The way he looked up at you from beneath his midnight blue bangs tugged at your heart and you couldn’t find any words to tell him just how okay you were with this, so you just nodded, feeling heat rise to your cheeks, the skin feeling way too hot against the cold of the stadium. Smiling brightly Jeno quickly prepared the skates to slip onto your feet and laced them up tightly, his nimble fingers working fast and efficient. “Is this alright? Not too tight?” “Seems fine,” you smiled back at him, experimentally wiggling your toes. “Alright,” Jeno smiled, extending a hand to you. “Come on, let’s go.”

Shyly, you took his hand to let him pull you upright. On wobbly feet, you followed him to the little door in the rink, letting him step onto the ice first. “I’ve never done this before,” you confessed, almost reflexive reaching your gloved hands out towards him which he took with a gentle smile, squeezing them reassuringly. “I won’t let you fall,” he promised, tightening the grip on your hands. “Okay,” you whispered, carefully stepping onto the slippery ice, unsure how to work with the skates. “You’re a natural,” Jeno beamed when you finally stood with both feet on the ice. “I- I don’t know,” you shied away from the praise, wishing you could hide in your big scarf. “Hold on tightly now,” the hockey player warned before he skillfully moved his legs so he was sliding backwards, effectively pulling you with him. A little surprised sound escaped your lips and you clutched his hands tightly, worrying your gaze to your feet where you tried to stabilize yourself and keeping the skids up right.

“Don’t think so much about it. Look at me,” Jeno’s voice cut through the soft scratching noises of the skates. “I’ll fall if I do,” you argued. Also your heart would most likely leap out of your chest if you did. As if it wasn’t already beating furiously enough now that you were basically on a date with your crush and he was holding your hands. “I told you that I won’t let you fall,” he promised, slowing down his own movements until you came to a halt. Steadying yourself on the skates, you took a deep breath before looking up to meet Jeno’s eyes. And just like that time stood still. Under the dimmed lights in the stadium, it felt like you two were the only people on this planet. You got lost in the deep brown shade of his eyes and adored how his nose and cheeks were tinted a pretty blush color from the cold. “Hey there,” he whispered, tucking your scarf neatly around your neck where it had come undone, the gesture so intimate, it made your breath hitch. “Hi,” you answered dumbly and it made him smile, his eyes curving into the beautiful half-moon eye smile.

Before you could do anything stupid like coo hat how pretty he looked, his smile turned into a mischievous grin and he quickly let go of your hands to skid backwards a couple of meters further towards the center of the rink. “Jenoooo,” you whined once you had found your balance again, glaring to where he was making a couple of sharp turns, creating indents in the smooth ice and sending pieces flying. “Come over,” he called, opening his arms wide. “You just want to see me fall.” “You won’t, have some faith in yourself. Just kick with your skates until you gain momentum. It’s like walking just with a little more glide.” “Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds?” “Just try it. For me,” Jeno smiled, sliding a little closer to you and opening his arms again. Sighing, you nodded, balling your hands into fists before you kicked your feet just how you had seen Jeno and the other’s do a hundred times before. Albeit very wobbly and slow, you were sliding over the ice. A smile slowly spread over your face as you kicked your feet again and again and you weren’t even mad when you noticed that Jeno steadily moved backwards to keep you going. “See, you’re a natural,” he beamed but just when he said that, you stumbled over one of the indents he had created earlier when he was showing off. You already prepared yourself to meet the cold unforgiving ice, making a complete fool out of yourself but instead two strong arms curled around you to pull you against a strong chest so you were stabilized again.

“I told you, I wouldn’t let you fall,” Jeno whispered, his hands steady on your waist. “Thank you,” you mumbled, slowly snaking your arms around him as well until your bodies were flush together. For a while you just stood on the ice, hugging each other until your breaths evened out, hearts beating in the same rhythm. “I’m so glad you actually came.” “Why wouldn’t I?” You mumbled into his neck. “Maybe you thought all my notes were creepy.” “I was really confused at first,” you admitted, “I thought it was a joke. I couldn’t think of a reason why anyone would write these to me. I was waiting for someone to bring up the topic so they could make fun of me. But deep down I really wished it was you who was writing them and that you actually meant everything you wrote.” The longer you spoke, the more you felt your face heat up. “I wish I had more courage to actually ask you out properly,” Jeno confessed, his voice quiet, “I kept seeing you around Jaemin and then you started to come to our matches. And then we ended up in so many of the same courses and guess what you’re not only very pretty but also incredibly smart. And I guess I kind of developed this huge crush on you with your big scarves and hoodies.”   “Me... Me too, Jeno,” you whispered, your heart making summersaults in your chest and a smile spreading on your lips. Beneath your fingers you could feel Jeno chuckle. “Will you let me kiss you?” He asked softly and who were you to deny him?

Slowly you lifted your head from his shoulder and he carefully cupped your face before he leaned in to kiss you until your noses were touching. His bangs were tickling your face but you wouldn’t have wanted to have it any other way and crossed the last few centimeters between you to press your lips against his slightly chapped ones. Like you had all time in the world you just stood on the ice, lazily moving your lips together only ever separating to heave in a couple of breathes of air and share a soft giggle before claiming each other’s lips again with hearts beating like one.

Eventually Jeno pulled back when you leaned in to kiss him again, a big smile on his lips when you pouted. “You’ll get another one when you manage to skate a whole round in the rink,” he grinned, his eyes sparkling. “You’re the worst Lee Jeno,” you kept pouting, “You’re hurting yourself just as much as me.” “Come on, it’s going to be fun,” he smiled, snaking free from your grip to skate around you in quick motions. “Show off,” you mumbled underneath your breath but tried your best to copy his movements to fulfill his quest.

In the end he had been right, once you got the hang of it and didn’t lose your balance every time there was a dent in the ice, it actually as fun to chase each other around the rink even though you knew he was purposefully letting you catch up to him at times to steal more kisses. It still somehow didn’t feel real that you actually were here with Lee Jeno and that you were actually allowed to kiss him just like this. After what felt like hours, Jeno helped you out of your skates and you just sat on the bleachers cuddled up together beneath a blanket, looking down at the rink. “Are you going to see the match tomorrow?” He asked. “Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I?” Jeno just hummed, a blush creeping up his cheeks and ears, this one definitely not from the cold. What was making him shy all of a sudden? “Would you... I mean... If you wanted to... Would you,” he stuttered before he groaned loudly and grabbed your hands tightly, “Willyouwearmyjackettothegame?” “What?” “My jacket... Would you wear it tomorrow?” He asked again, slower this time but still not meeting your eyes, instead looking at your interlocked hands. “Do you want me to?” You asked him back, a big smile on your lips. “I mean... I understand if this is a little fast but... But I’ve had this crush on you for the longest time and... And I would really like to show everyone that you’re you know...” “That I’m your girlfriend?” “Y... Yeah,” he admitted, shyly looking at you from beneath his midnight blue bangs. “Of course I will,” you smiled broadly, throwing your arms around him to hug him close.

And you did. After you and Jeno had talked for a little while longer about everything and nothing at all (and maybe some more kissing) until you had yawned more than he found acceptable, he had quickly run to the locker rooms to fetch his jacket that he had promptly laid over your shoulders on your way home. In front of your apartment building he had kissed you goodbye and wished you sweet dreams before he walked away to his own dorm room that he shared with Donghyuck so you had found out. You turned the key as silently as you could so you wouldn’t wake up your best friend who was out cold on the small sofa in your living room, the Netflix ‘Are you still watching?’ screen illuminating the room. Shaking your head, you draped a blanket over the sleeping boy and turned the TV off before getting ready for bed as well. The next morning you had to explain why you had Jeno’s jacket to a screaming Jaemin at an ungodly hour but in the end he was just excited as you were if not more because he didn’t have to hear both of you pining anymore because he had promised Jeno not to meddle.

You slipped into Jeno’s big jacket when you and your friend where about to leave so you wouldn’t be late to the match, you couldn’t help but smile, snuggling deep into the collar until your boyfriend’s smell engulfed you like a blanket. “Stop being gross or the best seats will be taken,” your best friend complained, tugging you with him and filling the way over to the stadium with chatter. “There are so many people,” you exclaimed when you had entered the stadium, looking around for free seats. “It’s the highlight of the season, what did you expect?” Jaemin asked, tugging you further down when he spotted Mark’s girlfriend waving excitedly at your two. She also was wearing a jacket with the name ‘Lee’ on the back just that hers had a big blue 2 on the back and not a 23 like yours. “You and Jeno?” She excitedly jumped up and down when she had spotted your jacket and you could only nod shyly. “I’m so happy for you. Mark told me how Jeno kept pining after you.”

“What’s with all the Lees over here?” A male voice cut in before you could answer anything and Johnny Suh sat down next to Jaemin, not clad in his usual dark red jacket with his name and the 9 on the back but in a rather small orange one with a giant blue 10 on the back. “You’ll fit right in,” Mark’s girlfriend chirped, making Johnny blush and hide his face in his knitted scarf, mumbling something about how stupid it was that it had to be so cold to play hockey and how much rather he’d be in his heated gym. “The joy of dating Korean guys,” Jaemin laughed, jumping up and climbing in a seat the row above you, “Let me take a picture, this is hilarious.” “Ten and Mark aren’t even Korean,” Johnny argued, “But Leechaiyapornkul would have been a bit excessive to put on a jacket.”

The rest of his argument was drowned out by the cheers that erupted when the players came from their lockers, the starting 6 quickly rounding the rink, making a couple of sharp turns and going through moves with their stick. Being their center forward player, Jeno was in the starting team along with Sungchan and Donghyuck. On the defense, Winwin and Mark were checking their gear before the captain made sure that all of Yangyang’s protective gear was on right. In the meantime Jeno was searching the bleachers and you couldn’t help but feel shy before you waved at him, jumping up and down so he would notice you. Because of the helmet you couldn’t know if he smiled at you but your heart made summersaults nonetheless when you playfully put on the hood of the jacket to show him that you were indeed wearing it. You imagined him laughing before he blew you a kiss with an over exaggerated movement that made quite a few people turn their heads to see who he could have blown the kiss to. Before you could even think about hiding, Johnny gripped your arm tightly and hissed: “If I am out here wearing Ten’s stupid jacket that is way too small for me while he refuses to wear mine in public because he’s not some trophy wife, you will not hide now.” Not knowing whether you should be afraid of Johnny or laugh at what really sounded like something Ten would say, you just nodded at the blonde, straightening out your back. From the opposite side you could see Ten sitting in the exchange box, a huge grin on his face when he must have spotted Johnny in the crowd (which really wasn’t that hard, the dude was unnecessarily tall).

“They better win this game or I will be mad,” the blonde grumbled when everyone had sat back down and the referee had called both team captains over. “It’s going to be a tight game,” Jaemin filled him in, “The gorillas have been on a roll for the past couple of games. But I have the feeling that a couple of players might just try extra hard today, trying to show off.” At the end, he threw both Johnny and you a very over exaggerated look completed with wiggling eyebrows which earned him slaps from both of you. “Now shut your mouth, Na Jaemin, I actually want to see this game.” “Wow she gets a hot hockey player as her boyfriend and suddenly she doesn’t need my top notch commentating anymore, that hurts.” “Shut up, Nana,” you smiled, focusing back to where in fact your boyfriend was playing on the ice just now. And even if you loved to see Jeno playing, you couldn’t wait for the game to be over to be back in his arms to congratulate him.

[desiderium-if]

ros' reaction to mc walking on them naked? and reverse - how do they respond if they walk on the mc naked? please? 👀

 MC walking in on them:

Leona - this has happened so many times before, you've seen each other at your best and worst moments, so why can she feel her knees trembling? why are her hands getting sweaty? she needs to find something to cover up quickly, whatever is happening right now is anything but appropriate. she manages to throw a quick glance your way — fishing for what? a reaction? come on, Leona. you know better than that — and she finds you looking at her in a way that almost resembles... lust?

it's a quick exchange of silent blinks, but her surprise must be written all over her face because you're turning around and closing the door behind you before she has any chance to properly react.

. . . what the fuck just happened?

how is she supposed to stop herself from kissing you whenever she's around you now, after the look you gave her? how is she supposed to just simply be around you without doing anything stupid?

S - they hear the door open and roll their eyes in annoyance, mumbling curses and turning around to face whatever poor soul made the unfortunate decision of walking in on them. 

“Which one of you imbeciles did not learn how to knock — oh. It’s you.” well, that’s certainly unexpected. out of all the people they were ready to argue with, you were the last one who’d come to mind, for some weird, totally unknown reason.

you stare at each other in surprise and embarrassment for a few awkward moments. S’s ears are slowly but surely reddening, and if you didn’t know any better you’d say they were flustered. you turn on your heels and go out the door, apologizing quickly and hoping they won’t hold this against you for the rest of your life. on the other side of the door, however, S is bothered by how fast their heart is beating and by how they only now realize they were completely naked throughout the whole encounter. 

River -  he is taking off his shirt and throwing it on the bed before sliding down his pants as well. River’s had a rough day, chasing you around that damned village he let you wonder trough. he is more than ready to take a break and have some fun, so he plans to go to the nearest tavern as soon as he gets out the door. 

in his rush, he doesn't hear the door opening, but he feels your presence. he heard that little gasp of yours and he could swear your cheeks are already flushed, even though he has his back turned to you. this is definitely not how he thought you'd see him naked for the first time, but he'll take what he can get. River turns around slowly, almost as if he's enjoying the idea of you seeing him like this. "See something you like, Your Majesty?"

"W-what? No, I just wanted to-"

"To what? Have some fun? What a coincidence, because I had the exact same thought," he all but purrs as he gets closer to you, still not covered by any piece of garment.

you don't even dignify that with a response, and turn around to leave the enclosed space as fast as you can. he smirks, your embarrassment being weirdly amusing to him. though, he has to admit he's somehow disappointed that you left like that.

Clover - they immediately hear the clicking of the doorknob and the creaking of the old door hinges. they got out of their robe and folded it neatly, placing it on the bed just a few seconds ago. oh no, no, no. this is not happening right now- 

“Clover, do you mind if I borrow-” you stop abruptly when you notice the lack of clothing on their body and their terrified eyes almost bulging out of their head. Clover shrieks and covers themselves with the closest thing they could find -- a potted flower.

“Gods, MC... Why didn’t you- I mean you could’ve just-” they stutter, fumbling for words in their embarrassment. “It’s fine, just... you said you needed something?”

“No, I think... I think I’ve seen everything I needed to see,” you say with a slight smirk on your face, giving them an up-and-down look on you way out, leaving them completely and utterly speechless.

The God - they’re wondering whether they should jump out the window and create some mayhem around the village, or just simply stay put and relax in bed. he settles for the latter, taking off his complicated and revealing layers of clothing and letting them fall on the floor. as he prepares to sit down on the bed, they hear the door opening, and their bloody eyes meet yours immediately.

“Pet? You need something?” they ask, his playful tone holding a hint of mischief.

you gape at him, not understanding how they can be so relaxed in such an awkward situation. you don’t even know what to say, so you settle for a quick shake of your head. The God seems as confused as ever, as if they don’t know what got you so quiet.

“What?” he asks innocently, as you walk away slowly and close the door behind you. “Oh, come on! What is it?!”

[hoodievixen]

The Voice of God [Steven Grant/Marc Spector x Priestess!OC] Part 8

Summary: Steven and Godeleve thought they finally found some normalcy with each other. Little did they know they would drag each other further into the mysteries ands secrets in their lives. (Godeleve can see and talk to Gods - mainly the Greek kind)

Word Count: ~ 2.5k

Warning: angst, badly written fight scene, mentions of blood, mild swearing, name calling, mentions of death, mentions of alcohol, possibly OOC Marc, author has forgotten what a normal conversation is after the end of the world, no beta we die like men

A/N: So the way I see Marc’s character is a tsundere, like he hides his real emotions behind snark, but when it come down to it, he will and can be a nice person. Hopefully that explains what’s going on here. (Why can I write better for Marc and Godeleve than Steven and Godeleve?)

Part 7, Part 9,  Master List

A long shadow was cast onto the street by the moonlight above. It was of a figure running, no leaping across the rooftops. One could mistake it for a dancer, except for the fact their partner was a swarm of large monstrous birds. Godeleve had left her leather armor behind in exchange for a pair of leather pants and a crop top that revealed not just her arms were covered in tattoos, but her back as well.

Marc had originally approached to help her. But he got mesmerized in watching her. She dodged and attacked with such grace that one wouldn't know when she was hit or a enemy beyond the body of one of the beasts falling to the ground. The way she fought reminded him so much like a dancer. Even slipping onto her toes like a ballerina. Remove the belt of weapons around her waist and the shower of blood and feather and it was like watching her on stage.

One of the last of the flock dived out of the mass, it's target and Godeleve's exposed stomach. She had seen the bird coming, yet only tried dodging last moment, causing a large gash to be carved into her skin. Before the creature could sore back up a glint of metal pierced through it's body pinning it to the ground. A dagger from her belt. Godeleve launched herself into the air, far higher than a person should be able to reach. The bird followed after her, in a row to attack one after the other. She held the bident for the handle end pointed down, that end as sharp as the prongs.

Godeleve landed in a graceful roll, a morbid shish kabob in hand. The corps of the birds were burning right off the weapon, a power with in it turning it to ash. "Enjoy the show?" Godeleve wondered, pulling a flask from her belt.

"You're bleeding," Marc pointed out. He still doubted this was the same Godeleve. The one who spent most of her free time cooking. Who could recite an entire sonnets at the drop of the hate. The frail woman who feared being in crowded places. But despite how hard it was to believe, it was the truth. Having the same exact phone, and ringtones, should have been enough to rid him of any doubt.

Godeleve nodded, as she took a drink from her flask. He had even seen that before. "I'll be fine," she sighed, walking to retrieve her dagger which was sticking up from a pile of ash. He then saw all the little scratches on her arms, starting to bead with crimson.

Marc grabbed her arm as she passed. "You have armor, yet you don't use it?" he pointed out. clearly she did have the same healing capabilities he did. It was obvious avatars and priests were different, yet here they were doing the same job.

"Cause I don't need it," she scoffed, pulling her arm back, "I have more blessing than that." She pulled her dagger out of the concert and held it aloft into the air. "It's gonna take a whole lot more than that to kill me." She slipped her dagger back into it's loop.

She then sat down on the roof's ledge setting down the bident which melted into the shadows. A black mass manifested in the shadows by her feet. A back pack appeared. On the black back pack was a patch with a pentagram on it, a keychain of some character with white hair, and another of a sword. Out of the back pack she pulled out a container with a large plus on it, a first aid kit.

With a sighed Marc sent away the suit. His bare hands were better for first aid than the mummy wrappings. "Give it here," he told her.

She glanced up at him. He watched as her eyes widened, before Godeleve herself disappeared into the darkness. "I'm never going to get used to that," he commented.

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

These jackal things were easy to deal with, once you knew how to. Marc would have loved to have a spear like weapon at the moment. The jackal had pined him to the ground, spraying slobber over his face. A sharp blade appeared through the beast's sternum just mere inches from Marc's own. Yeah, that would also work.

As the jackal melted into sand he noticed the shadow running in the direction he had originally came from. The sword that had pierced through the beast fell to the ground with a clang. Marc picked it up, noticing how there was so much detail carved into the blade. It was an entire landscape along the bronze blade. He had to return it to the owner.

Godeleve was standing in the square the cult had previously been gathered. There were still members milling about, but the leader had disappeared. She stood there, holding onto the bident with white knuckles.

Marc slowly approached, no longer with a need for the suit. "Thanks," he told her, holding out the sword.

Godeleve flinched at his voice, and stayed stiff. "Just showing you how you actually help someone." She was quick to grab her sword back and put it in it's scabbard.

"How many weapons do you have?" he asked, noticing how a second belt had been added, though it did spear to be just for the sword.

"As many as I need," she answered, "Not every enemy can be defeated with the same weapon. But that doesn't matter to them, dose it?"

Marc had noticed her words, she was never happy when she was talking about that topic. "If you hate them that much, why do you help them?" he wondered. "The gods that is."

"No all of them are terrible," Godeleve confessed. "And I'm not helping them..."

Marc looked at her arms, branded with symbols of the Greek gods, dots of ink littered with stars, as if she was dotting constellations on her skin. "I doubt that," Marc commented. "You do know tattoos are permanent, and you are covered in symbolism for all of them."

Godeleve glared at him. "Don't make me regret saving you."

"You would let something happen to Steven?" Marc commented.

Godeleve softly smiled, but it was quick to melt away. "Do you want me to see the two of you as separate people, or different facets of the same person?"

"Dose it matter?" Marc questioned, he never like thinking about things like that. There was Steven, and there was Marc. They co-existed and that's all that mattered.

Godeleve looked up to the stars. "...You answered that before I even asked."

Godeleve sudden had a shift of tone, as if she had gotten slapped. "I would prefer it if I could tell you to stay away from me and everything going on. But I understand that you have as much, if not more, stake it what is going on than I do. I'm not saying we should team up, but if our paths cross, let's not be a hinderance to the other. Dose that sound fair?"

"It would be much easier if we worked together," Marc pointed out.

Godeleve shook her head. "You'd just slow me down."

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

Godeleve was in horror. She hated this man more and more. She needed to do something about him, but she needed to do something about this first. There had to be at least twenty of them. She wouldn't be able to give them their final rights, but she would be able to give them a proper burial. She had never check to see if they had gotten one before, and she regrets it now.

Godeleve slid off her back pack and sat down her bident. "What are you doing?" Marc asked her.

"Giving them a proper burial," she answered picking up the body of a mother out of the pile. After all that was one of her duties. She was scanning the area. "Did you see a cemetery?" Out of all the things she wouldn't be able to do, making sure it would be in the right area would be what she would try to do.

"All of them...?" Marc asked, only watching as she walked past.

"You say that as thought not every culture and religion has some stress on the burial process," Godeleve commented.

Marc was quick to follow after her. "But don't those require last rights? And like a religious leader."

"Yes," Godeleve agreed, "However I might not be able to do it to their beliefs I am able to put their body to rest. " She paused in her walking. "I need a shovel... and grave markers..." Marc saw a look on her face he hadn't before. She look so desperate yet hopeless. She wasn't going to give up until she properly buried all these people, but she knew it would be a thankless task.

Marc placed his hand on her should. Godeleve stiffened under his touch. Marc pulled his hand back, having underestimated how much stress she currently felt. "There's a church to the west. I'll find some shovels, and what do you want for grave markers?"

Godeleve looked at him, trying to hide the confusion in her eyes behind anger. "Trees..." she said softly, and though she had already knew what she wanted. "Umm... there's a woods outside of town, you should be able to find some seeds... I can find those..."

"I got it, just, do what you need to," Marc assured her.

Marc had stayed with Godeleve as she worked. "Why do you feel you need to do this?" he asked her as she was filling in the grave of a child.

"It's my job," she plainly answered.

"Aren't you a preservationist?" he wondered, "I think this is the exact opposite."

Godeleve shook her head and pushed back her hair, already coated in sweat and dirt. "Promise not to tell Khonshu? I like annoying him with his lack of knowledge." Godeleve sounded normal there. Marc had always heard this cocky tone in her voice, sometimes even blatantly angry. But there she sounded like she was talking to Steven.

"If I get to have something over his head," Marc agreed.

Godeleve leaned onto the shovel, resting her cheek on her hands as she looked at him. "I'm the priestess of the Chthonic gods. Most of their priests in the pasts were grave keepers, and that's what they are known for. Out of all the titles I could gain from what I can do, I feel that's the one I'd want."

"Chthonic gods?" Marc asked. Godeleve raised an eyebrow. "I know a limited amount of Egyptian mythology, I know just about nothing about Greek."

Godeleve smirked. "I'm not going to tell you then. And like Google dose exist, it's easy to figure out."

"You really don't like me," Marc deadpanned.

Godeleve returned to her work. "No I do not."

It wasn't until mid morning were all the graves filled, which was much quicker than Marc had expected it to be. He did end up helping her, she gave in a round sunrise, letting him dig and fill in holes. However not touch the bodies in any way. "We're all done then," he commented, wiping dirt of his hands onto his dirt covered pants.

Godeleve said nothing, instead kneeling before the graves, bringing her face to the grass. Marc just watched with confusion. When her breathing grew uneven and she started to shake did he worry. "Godeleve?" he asked, her name strange on his lips.

She sat up bringing her hands to her face. "Sorry, no blessing comes for free," she explained.

Marc then saw what she meant. All the seeds she had planted in the graves and sprouted and were now saplings. Along with around her knees and through out the field flowers had bloomed, out of season flowers at that. "Narcissus," she commented, softly stroking a petal.

"They're Daffodils, " Marc corrected her.

"Sure," she said in a scoff.

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

"Hey dumbass," Godeleve called after him, trying to reach him through the crowd of people.

"I think I prefer Sailor Moon," Marc commented.

Godeleve scoffed, "Good 'cause that's your contact name." She held out her hand in expectation of him to hand her something.

"Of course it is," Marc groaned. He didn't even know why he gave her his phone number, his phone had been turned off for months, and if he needed to contact her he had Steven's phone.

Godeleve glared at him. "Give it," she demanded.

"What?" Marc questioned. "If you're looking for your dagger, I'm pretty sure it's still in that table."

"You're bleeding you idiot," she explained, dramatically gesturing to his hand. "In multiple places."

She had already grabbed his hand and pouring a bottle of vodka she had grabbed from the bar they just beat up the entire patronage of over his knuckles. Marc tried not to wince at the sting.

"I can just summon the suit and I'll be fine," he reminded her.

Godeleve grumbled unintelligible sounds, followed by taking a drink from the bottle. It could have been just that, or another language, it was hard to tell with her. She had pulled out a roll of gauze she now keeps on her tool belt. Somehow her actions were both gentle and forceful. She was forcing care on him, but didn't want to cause any pain.

"This is very strange coming from the person who literal disappeared when I tried to help you with first aid," Marc commented.

"Well I can heal in the sun, and I'm practically impossible to kill at night. You are an idiot who doesn't even dodge a punch from a  drunk man," she explained, sounding angrier than she should be. She commonly threatens to stab him, she should be joyful of him having blood knuckles from missing a guys jaw and instead hitting a brick wall.

"Are you even human?" Marc asked. From everything he's heard of her, she sounds more like a deity herself, and not a person.

"By many definitions, no," she answered, moving her attention the the knife slash on his arm. "good news, don't need stitches." Followed by here grumbling something is Russian.

Marc winced as she harshly pinched him. "You know you're actions and words don't line up. You tell me far to much for someone you don't like."

Godeleve was quickly wrapping the gauze around his arm, showing expertise from practice. "Cause one day you will forget me," she answered, all anger gone from her voice.

"What about Steven?" he pried, as she was tucking in the end of the gauze.

Godeleve paused. "He will too." She handed him a large band aid and the bottle of vodka. "You're forehead is bleeding." She then turned and walked away. Before she turned the corner she disappeared into the shadows.

[helliontherapscallion]

Yellow Carnations (Destiny Written in Begonias Part 1)

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Summary: After hearing something deep within the woods, you give into curiosity and investigate. Who knows, whatever you find could be a prize.

Warnings: Swearing, slightly graphic violence (just some zombies getting dismembered)

Word count: 3,715

(A/N): So, welcome to my new series! I have so many ideas for this that I’d love to write. This story will be very gay, fluffy, and sorta angsty, so buckle up my children!

So just a lil background info: the reader is Techno’s adopted daughter. She is a piglin hybrid, but she is more human looking than piglin. This takes place about eighteen years after the most recent events of the SMP.

                                           ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

“Techno, I think we have enough ender pearls for tonight.” You glanced to your side to look at your father and Philza, the enchantments of their armor glowing dimly in the moonlight and the orange light of the torches in their hands. Philza stretched his body and his wings out, a small groan escaping his mouth and small cracks sounding from his joints.

“The night’s still young, Phil!” Technoblade grinned, his gold capped canines glinting slightly. His hand moved to gently rest on the handle of his sword.

You snorted to yourself, “you two, however, aren’t.” A small shove came from your side making you stumble slightly, laughter bubbling from your throat.

“I’m just going to pretend that I didn’t hear anything,” Philza crossed his arms and looked off to the side. Though, you could hear a smile in his tone and the beginnings of a chuckle.

“I’m sorry,” you chuckled, “Dad set me up for that one. The opportunity was too good to pass up.”

“I’ll set you up for longer training sessions if you keep going for… ‘opportunities’ like that.” He glanced down at you with amusement glinting in his eyes and tugging at the corner of his lips.

His statement, though lighthearted, immediately made you stop laughing. You knew him well enough to know that he wasn’t joking; the last time you laughed it off you had to endure two extra hours on top of the four hour sessions you had daily. By the end of the punishment, your arms felt like they were going to fall off.

“No! I take it back, you guys are young! Not a single-”

“You’re digging yourself an early grave if you finish that sentence, kid. Besides, you can’t pass up opportunities like these!”

“I think I’m good for now,” you shivered slightly when a breeze blew past you. It was starting to grow colder as the night dragged on. Technoblade, noticing this, wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close to him securely. Though the Blood God never shows mercy, he couldn’t let his only child succumb to a head cold; that’d just be barbaric.

You jumped at the feeling of the freezing netherite making contact with your bare arm. “Sorry,” he murmured sheepishly, “forgot how cold the armor is… We should probably head back, it’s getting cold.”

As your family started to make their way back towards the tundra, banter was exchanged between the three. The journey out of the forest was uneventful, only a few mobs had attempted to attack or sneak behind you. Just as you reached the edge of the forest, a noise caught your attention.

It sounded like it was only a couple of minutes away; so faint that if you weren’t actively listening for it, it would have nearly been lost in the night. If you strained your ears, you could hear the trampling of dry leaves making you assume that there were several people or animals in that area. Alongside it, there was a faint whimpering.

Your curiosity was piqued, just what was making that noise?

“(Y/n), is everything alright?” You looked back at Philza. It seemed that they walked a bit away from you while you stopped at the forest’s edge to listen to the sound.

You absentmindedly nodded, “yeah, Uncle Phil. I think I left my bow back in that clearing when we were taking a break so I’m just going to go grab that. You guys can keep going home, I’ll be right behind you.”

“We can go with you-”

“No, you don’t have to. I’m old enough to go alone.”

Philza and Technoblade then spoke at the same time, “alright, we’ll just meet you there.” “Absolutely not.”

Philza elbowed Technoblade’s side lightly and looked up at him. They were silently communicating with pointed looks and pursed lips, every expression understood completely by the other. You never understood how they did that, even if they raised you. You could remember making a journal dedicated to deciphering their expressions, but you never could truly understand it (that, and ‘nose scrunch and eye narrow’ meant multiple things).

Eventually, Technoblade’s shoulders slumped and he ran a hand down his face tiredly, “you know the rules?”

You rolled your eyes, “of course I do. Fight to win, go for the throat, if you lose your weapon go for the pressure points. You remind me daily.”

He stared at you for a moment before his ear flicked, “don’t take long, we’ll be waiting.” They both turned and started to trudge towards the spruce forest in the distance.

Without a second thought, you ran into the forest with your ears perked. Following the noise was easy, the whimpers had turned into high pitched whines. You leapt over stumps and ducked under low hanging branches as they blocked your way; nothing was going to stop you from finding out what was making that noise.

Eventually, you broke through the trees and found yourself in a grassy clearing surrounded by large stones. If it were spring, you’d imagine wildflowers sprouting everywhere you stepped. A small spring sat in the furthest corner of it, waterfalls cascading over the jagged stones and crashing into the water below. Near the cliffside, a hoard of groaning zombies swarmed something and they were closing in on it. Now, what was it they were attacking?

You quickly unsheathed your golden sword and sprinted towards the hoard. The crunching of the dried, colorful leaves under your feet was enough to drag the zombies’ attention to you.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you made your first swipe at one of their torsos. In an instant, the zombie was bisected and fell to the ground. With a twirl, you slashed at multiple zombies at once. They all collapsed to the ground as their rotting flesh was torn and couldn’t support their crumbling bodies any longer.

As soon as all of the zombies were laying dead on the ground, you wiped your blade off on one of their torn tunics and sheathed it. Taking a step back to look at the bodies littered on the floor, you smirked; this was too easy.

Now, without the obstacles, your prize awaits you. Eagerly, you looked over to see what the zombies were swarming. Instead of the scared villager you were expecting, the person that stood there completely took your breath away.

The woman was wearing a simple white dress with a baby blue shawl shadowing the upper part of her face. Her skin was fair and her face was round, a button nose laid in the center of her face and plump pink lips slightly parted showing off straight white teeth. Curly dark brown hair framed the sides of her face and spiraled down to rest on her shoulders.

She was tall for a human, about five-foot-ten if you were to estimate. Her hands moved to clasp in front of her elegantly, your eyes catching sight of light blue nailpolish decorating her perfectly shaped nails.

Red was starting to dust her cheeks and her breathing was starting to return to normal. That was good, at least she wasn’t going into shock. For someone who nearly got eaten alive by the undead, she looked relatively calm and well put together.

“Are you alright?” You tried to keep your voice even, but there was a light wobble to it. You thickly swallowed, cursing yourself for showing any emotion in front of this stranger. The mask that hid the upper part of your face gave you a sense of security and safety, it hid most of your emotion.

You saw her lips move, but no sound came out. Were you going deaf like your father? You shouldn’t be; you haven’t blown up an entire nation yet. You stepped closer in hopes of hearing her better, “excuse me?”

Her lips curled up into a smile, dimples appearing on her cheeks, “Oh, I just said that I’m fine, nothing else. May I get the name of my knight in shining armor?”

Her voice was soft and light. Though it was on the deeper side, it had feminine, euphonious undertones; it was like honey was dripping out with every word she spoke. Just by the way she spoke, you assumed that she came from the nearby kingdom.

You smirked, playing along with the small game she was setting up. Stepping closer and kneeling, you grabbed her hand and brought it to your lips. Her hands were soft and velvety, a part of you longed to hold it in yours all day long.

Against her knuckles, you spoke, “(Y/n) Blade at your service. And you, my fairest lady?”

“Princess Helen Dahlia Eret, but please, call me Dahlia; Helen was my mother. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

You snorted, she was really dedicated to this game. You’d just play along with her, why not? It’s not like you have anything else to do. “Well, princess, it’s about time for you to head back to your castle.”

You looked up at her through your eyelashes and caught sight of the outline of her shadowed features. You could see her purse her lips, “you think I’m lying, don’t you?”

“Forgive me for thinking so, your highness!” You snickered, “the princess shall not step foot outside of her chambers, lest a scrape shall mar her flawless skin!”

She smirked before placing a delicate finger underneath your chin, tilting it upwards. You could feel your face grow hot as she removed her shawl. Ivory white eyes stared back at you smugly, sending a shock through your body. You weren’t sure if the jolt you felt was from her beauty or from the fact that she wasn’t lying.

“Would you like to try again, my knight?” She cooed to you, her other hand coming down to rest on your cheek. You stood up and gaped at her, “oh fuck, you’re actually the princess.”

A part of you wanted to dislike her for her title and for the royal blood that coursed through her veins. That blood tainted her, filling every nook and cranny with vile corruption. “All governments are bad,” Technoblade had taught you early on in your life, “they should, under no circumstances, be trusted.”

Though her parent Eret had been a fair king, always attending to the needs of their people, you were anticipating their corruption. If your memory serves you right, they were the one that betrayed the revolutionaries during the L’manberg Revolution simply because of their thirst for power. If they were a power hungry traitor before, who’s to say that they won’t be blinded by it again?

Every fiber in your body screamed at you to sink your sword through her abdomen to put her down, just like the bloodthirsty hounds that hailed long before her. You could just end her right now, make it quick and just leave her body here. It’d be easy and it would bring chaos to the SMP Kingdom, causing mass paranoia and tearing it apart from within. It’d be delicious, something that would give you a high you’d ride for years. You wanted to paint the grass with her blood, but something deep within you protested.

Filthy blood nourished her body, but that didn’t take away from her sheer and complete beauty or the way she covered her mouth with a delicate hand to hide her laugh. That did not take away from how she had cupped your cheek moments before, your skin still tingled where her hand was. That didn’t suppress the butterflies that fluttered wildly in your stomach when she stepped into the moonlight.

She put her hand out and smiled, “won’t you accompany me to my castle, my faithful warrior?” You merely put on a cold, uncaring facade and side stepped her.

“...You got yourself here, yes? You can find your way back.”

“Well you see,” she moved to rub the back of her neck and awkwardly chuckled, “I was hoping you know the way back?”

You couldn’t stop the snort that escaped your mouth, something about her made her irresistible. “You’ve got to be kidding me, you just ran blindly into a forest?”

“Hey, you would too if you were being chased by zombies!”

“Excuse me, who was the one that just slaughtered said zombies in under a minute?” You raised an eyebrow and looked down at her.

“I don’t have a sword like you do,” she crossed her arms over her chest and glared up at you.

“Even then, I doubt you know how to use one. Here,” you unsheathed the large sword and held it out to her, “I bet you can’t even hold it up.”

“Can too!” She protested before snatching the sword out of your hands. She grunted slightly at the heavy weight, almost dropping it, but she quickly steadied it. Looking up at you with a smug, slightly reddened face, she shook slightly. “See? It’s not that hard.”

You quirked an eyebrow beneath your mask, “oh really?”

“Y-yep,” was all she managed to choke out before she stepped back and dropped the tip. It swung down and buried itself inside the dirt below, scouring the earth as it made contact.

Smirking at her, you took it back with ease, putting it back into its sheath slung around your back. You once again stepped around her and started walking in the other direction.

“Where are you going?!”

“To the castle, you said you wanted me to take you home.”  

She rushed to your side and grabbed your arm with both of her hands. They snaked around your bicep and tangled themselves in your cape. You could feel yourself soar at the contact; you had to fight against every instinct to hook your arm with hers. You ripped yourself out of her embrace and put some distance between the both of you.

She crossed her arms and hugged herself, shivering slightly, “how are you not cold?!”

“It’s barely cold out here,” you mentally scolded yourself for being a hypocrite, “you’ll be fine.”

She said nothing and continued to walk. As you got further and further into the forest, she merely started shivering more. You could hear her teeth chattering loudly and could see goosebumps decorating the skin on her bare arms. Sighing, you unhooked your cape and slung it over her shoulders.

She squeaked in surprise at the feeling before realizing that you gave her your cape. She grabbed the edges and pulled it closer to her before snuggling deeper into the cloth; you could feel your heart explode at the small sigh that she let out and the content hum that left her mouth. Just as she looked up at you, you made quick work of looking away. The ground was very fascinating at the moment.

“Thank you,” she murmured. You just curtly nodded, avoiding looking at her.

The walk to the castle was short, luckily she hadn’t run far from her home. Just as the castle walls were in your sights, she tried holding your arm again. Once again, you stepped away from her.

“C’mon,” she chuckled, “I don’t bite.”

“Well I do. You really need to learn not to trust a stranger, princess.”

“Well, we aren’t strangers. We know each other’s names, do we not? And besides, I bet you’re just a massive teddy bear.”

“I don’t know what your teddy bears looked like as a kid, but they certainly weren’t me. If I wanted to, I could take your hand clean off with a single twist and pull,” you growled out. She was silent once more as she led you towards a specific part of the castle.

“...Why are you so defensive? At least treat me like you did before we knew each other!” She unhooked the cape and shoved it towards you. You gladly took it and put it back on. To your sheer embarrassment, you felt joy as you caught a whiff of books and expensive perfume. It smelled like her.

“...I could’ve just left you back there if I wanted to, consider this a favor. Respect is earned, not given. Even to royalty.”

You turned to leave, you cape swishing behind you as you turned. Before you could walk off, a hand on your arm stopped you. “Wait. Even if you’re a massive jerk,” she sighed out, “I still have to thank you. So, thank you for saving my life; I’m indebted to you, my douchey knight.”

She leant up on the tips of her toes and gently placed her lips on your cheek. You froze and watched as she turned on her heel. She walked towards the entrance with several glances back at you, some of them being smug and others being questioning. It was like you were entranced underneath the veil of a spell, unable to move until she disappeared from sight.

The walk home was quiet with no mobs sneaking up on you. The entire time, the memory of her kissing your cheek replayed endlessly in your head. Though the very thing you disliked more than anything was embodied in her, you couldn’t help but fall for the natural charm she had. You were probably just tired, it was getting late into the night after all.

As you walked through the door, you could see Technoblade impatiently waiting for you on the couch. He had a book open in his hand and his half-rimmed glasses were perched on the bridge of his snout.

“You’re late.”

“Sorry, I just ran into more mobs than I anticipated.”

Technoblade said nothing as his eyes flickered over your body, looking for even the smallest of scrapes. When he didn’t find anything, he nodded to himself and stood up. Tiredly, he walked over to you and ruffled your hair before trudging to his room.

“Are you sure the only thing you ran into was mobs?”

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “just a lot of zombies.”

He rolled his eyes and gave you a knowing smile before walking over to you. He swiped his thumb across your cheek and showed it to you. It was stained with a light pink color. “In all of the centuries I spent living in this world, not once have I seen a zombie wearing pink lipstick or,” he took your cape in his hand and sniffed it slightly, “cherry scented perfume.”

Your face exploded in heat as you made hasty work of scrubbing your cheek making the older man laugh quietly at you, “all you’re doing is smudging it all over your face. Some warm water and soap will get it off fast… Now, wanna tell me who gave you that?”

You stared at his smug expression and quickly came to the realization that he wouldn’t let this go unless you told him. Or, at least until you told him what happened.

You sighed and started to remove your armor, placing it on the armor stand situated between Philza’s and Technoblade’s armor. You had insisted that the armor stands were in this specific order, it just made sense with the height differences between the members of the household. Since you were between Philza’s and Technoblade’s height at 6’4 (and still growing), it made sense with the order of the armor in terms of size.

You made your way over to the couch and sat down with a sigh, Philza following suit. He gave you a reassuring smile, “whenever you’re ready.”

So you told him everything that had happened that day. Needless to say, Philza was happy for you, asking you questions about the interaction.

“It sounds like she’s perfect for you, kiddo.”

“That’s the thing, Uncle Phil. She isn’t,” you ran a hand down your face and leaned back onto the back of the couch, your head resting on the top of the cushion. You heard Philza shift slightly before he grabbed your hand.

“Now,” he asked gently, “what makes you think that?”

“She’s King Eret’s daughter. Helen Dahlia Eret,” you sardonically chuckled, “I really thought she was just joking when she said ‘princess’.” Every part of you wished that that was a joke. That she would laugh and tell you that it was part of the game she was playing. But no, she just had to be royalty.

“Eret’s better than most, they are a good king,” he reminded you.

“Still, there’s royal blood in her. She’s actively a part of a government… I wanted to kill her on the spot; hell everything in my body was screaming at me to slaughter her, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.”

“Sometimes, someone is more than the blood inside of them; maybe she isn’t as bad as you think she is. Someone could be born into a family of saints and still destroy everything they touch. On the other hand, someone could be born surrounded by the lowest of humanity and grow up to become the best person you’ll ever meet. You have to understand that blood isn’t everything to a person’s character.”

You didn’t say anything, contemplating what he said. She didn’t seem like someone to rule with an iron fist, and neither did her parent. Tubbo was the first person to come to mind. He was raised by a malicious, tyrannical idiot, a man that had valued absolute power and booze over anything else. Your uncle turned out to be the most caring person you’ve ever met, always making sure that those around him are in a good mood even if he himself wasn’t.

However, it’s best to be cautious of somebody. Your mind flashed back to Wilbur and Dream, the two men rotting away in Pandora’s Vault together until either their time alive is up or time itself expires. They were charismatic and kind on the outside, but on the inside, they are two of the most heinous men you’ve ever met. 

It seemed like your mind was running in circles, bouncing between both conclusions like it was being slammed between two surfaces.

“...Do you think you’ll see her again?” Philza asked you, rubbing a thumb over your knuckles and squeezing it comfortingly when you didn’t respond immediately.

You sighed, standing up and walking out of the room, “if the odds are in our favor, we won’t see each other any time soon.”

                                          ✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

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[the-infamous-coat-of-baron-zemo]

Missed Opportunities | Helmut Zemo x Reader

Here's a little something I cooked up. Not sure what I want to do with it, but it was bugging me to be written. For better or worse.

This is a little Helmut Zemo/Female Reader moment. It has Sam and Bucky too. It's not fully developed, but hopefully you all can enjoy it for what it is.

OOOOO

You were in Germany when you got the call from Sam. He needed help locating the Flag-Smashers, and was hoping you could offer some assistance.

He just happened to call at the perfect time, because as it turns out, the person you went to visit was no longer around. So, since you had essentially made a trip across the ocean for nothing; you figured, why not? Might as well make something of your travels abroad and not make it a total loss.

Sam gave instructions to meet him at a residence in Riga, Latvia. He mentioned very little other than that. Technically though, that wasn't entirely his fault. You're pretty sure he intended to provide more information, but Bucky was shouting, "Hellos.", "You've been missed!", and her personal favorite, an exasperated, "Please save me from my tormentor."

After Bucky's outburst, Sam had seemed to have forgotten about you on the phone; so you were just listening to constant bickering in the background. All you could do was shake your head and laugh at this point. Truly, Earth's greatest defenders were simply children at times.

It was good to hear their laughs. It had been too long and the world was still recovering.

We all were.

Bucky, Sam, and you all disappeared when Thanos snapped his fingers, wiping out half the universe. When you all returned, there was love and there was loss all around, but it bonded the three of you in a friendship deeper than any of you could imagine.

Okay, perhaps, that's a slight exaggeration. You became extremely good friends with both James and Sam; however, the two of them are a different story altogether. They won't admit to their friendship, but you know they'll both come around one day. They're just being stubborn idiots. God, she missed those two guys. It's been months since she had laid eyes either one of them.

So, here you are, standing right out front the door Sam gave instructions to meet at.

You fiddled with the arm of the backpack strapped across your chest. You didn't think you'd be this nervous, but a combination of excitement and adrenaline had caused you to be a bit jumpy. You tried to shrug it off as you raised your hand to knock on the door.

Not even 10 seconds after you knocked on the door you heard the shuffle of footsteps, accompanied with the ever present response of, "I got it."

Only the footsteps halted abruptly and muffled discussions were faintly heard through the door. You couldn't make out what was being said, only that no further movement had been made to answer the door.

I swear to God, if they are simply having an argument about who gets to open the door, I am going to murder them both on the spot.

You were about to knock on the door again a bit more insistently, but you never got the chance as the door abruptly swung open to reveal Bucky.

As you stared back at one another, you couldn't help but noticed his tense appearance, which is not all that unusual for him, but it was a more strained posture. You assumed it had something to do with whatever was being talked about just moments prior to answering the door.

It couldn't have been too serious because seconds later he dropped all pretense and gave you a heartfelt smile before sweeping you up in his arms for a hug.

He all but dragged you inside, it only caused you to chuckle at his enthusiasm. Yeah, you had missed him a lot.

The hug continued to linger on, and you could hear the door behind you close. You were about to motion to Bucky to release you from his hold when you heard Sam pipe in highly amused, "Buck, give her some room to breath."

You could feel the glare James was giving Sam, but he did let you go eventually.

Upon the release from your hug, the sleeves of your blue hoodie had drifted past your hands; you pushed them up a bit where you could grab James's hand and squeeze it in silent thanks.

After letting go of Bucky, you turned around to face Sam, shaking your head and grinning at him with delight, "Never a dull moment around here is there?"

"Never," Sam replied. "It's my turn, now," holding his arms out, he smiled pulling you into a softer embrace, but no less enthusiastic.

You huffed out a laugh and hugged him back with equal fervor.

A few moments had passed, and you reluctantly untangled yourself from Sam. More pleasantries had been exchanged and small talk had filled up the space as you walked fully into open living space.

You did a turn about the room as you headed towards the kitchen area with the guys trailing behind you. You had grabbed the strap of your backpack and had lifted it over your head.

You were about to place your stuff on the kitchen island when you heard soft footfalls make their way from the outer hallway towards you.

The unexpected noise caused you to hesitate; you turned your head towards Sam and James with a puzzled expression on your face. You had opened your mouth with the intention to ask them who else was in the safe house with you, when you saw him.

The backpack you were holding had fallen out of your hands and onto the floor with a thud, but you couldn't tear your eyes off the man standing across the room from you now. Your face had gone completely slack jaw and eyes had widen in shock leaving you speechless.

You would normally have said something quippy in this moment, but your brain had stopped functioning.

The silence was finally broken from Sam's response to the situation.

"Okay, I know what this looks like. We can explain him," Sam cautiously said. "Actually, Bucky should be the one to share this story, since it was his idea."

You could hear the words Sam was saying, but they never really registered. You assumed he thought you were shocked because the man who stood in front of you once tore your friends a part. Because he was supposed to be in a prison in Germany. Any other number of reasons could potentially be listed. What Sam didn't realize, was that the man standing before you was the last person you saw before you disintegrated before his eyes, and this was the first time since that chaos you had seen him again.

Other than Sam's calm reply, it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Perhaps it was because the same look of shock and awe was reflected on Zemo's face.

You tried to form a response, something, anything to say.

Neither Sam or Bucky knew you used to visit Zemo after he was imprisoned. Whenever you travelled to Germany, you would tell them you had a contact that only agreed to provide information face to face. They never put two and two together, but they also trusted you implicitly; so they had no reason to ever question your motives or who exactly you were going to see. You actually saw Zemo a fair amount of time. More often than not, it was always to learn about the inner workings of Hydra. While they may be diminished in capacity; they still had not been completely eradicated. And you were determined to locate and destroy every remaining Hydra base, and dismantle them once and for all. They took your parents from you, and you were going to make sure they couldn't hurt anyone ever again. So, Zemo had been the obvious choice to help gain as much information as possible in your quest.

So, over the course of 2 years, you had made several trips to see him. You could almost say you were on friendly terms, but mostly, you believed his kindness and willingness to provide information was a benefit to him. To interact with someone on the outside to remind him he's not completely alone in the world.

The last time you saw each other was a day like any other you would come to visit. You'd lean outside his glass cell and just talk. The prison only allotted an hour's visit. So you always had to make your time worth while.

This particular day was colder than usual for the time of year. And being left outside the prison hallway where Zemo's cell was located only caused the draft to further lower the temperature with the concrete walls. You had involuntarily shivered as a cold draft had blasted in from one of hallways. Zemo had taken notice and unzipped his hoodie, passing it off to the guard to hand over to you. In that moment, the realization came that things were no longer black and white between the two of you. When you asked him why, he simply shrugged and said it's what any gentleman should do. His expression had softened though and was no longer outwardly indifferent. You had put on the blue garment and zipped it up; tugging at the sleeves as the hoodie was much larger on your frame than his.

There was only about 30 minutes left of your visit when alarm bells started going off. Zemo had pushed himself against the glass to look down the closest hallway to try and see what was going on. You had tried to remain calm, but when the guard standing nearby had disappeared right in front of you both, you knew something was dreadfully wrong.

With visible panic on your face, you had whispered out the word Thanos to Zemo. You'll never forget what happened next or the expression on his face. There was a hitch in your lungs and a strong tugging sensation drifting through your chest. You stumbled into the glass and fell to your knees in front of Zemo. You had slumped onto your side trying to concentrate on what was happening to you. You peered up at Zemo as he had slid himself down the glass to your level gazing at you in concern. You could hear him shouting for help, but there was no one around. You placed your hand on the glass to get his attention, and only then did you realize, you had tears in your eyes.

He brought his hand up on the other side of the glass and placed it against where yours was. Funny how an instance can change everything between two people. You saw his eyes widen and that's when you noticed the right side of your body started to turn to dust. All you had time to say was, "I'm sorry," before you completely disintegrated before him, leaving him, no doubt, alone once again.

You would have laughed at the expression on his face now if you knew it hadn't been the first time he's seen you since....what happened. But there was nothing really funny about the situation.

You weren't quite sure what to do, but your feet made the decision for you as you slowly made your way to stand directly in front of Zemo.

It's the first time you've stood together without any glass between you both. He's a bit taller than you, but not by miles; you're chin roughly comes up to his shoulder.

You see him swallow as if he's also thinking of something to say, but instead you see him raise his hand up and start to reach out to touch you, but stops before actually doing it. Internally, you make your choice for him and reach up with your hand and grab the one he's left hanging in the air. It's just a light touch, almost as if you're both worried the other might not be real.

Zemo glanced down at you holding onto his hand and back at you briefly. He squeezed your hand gently and then you heard him release a harsh breath before gripping your hand tighter and yanking you into his arms.

You barely had time to think about what was happening before you were enveloped into the most emotional hug you've ever felt.

The reaction was unexpected, but then so were the circumstances you were in, so nothing should really surprise you, but you were. Your arms were slightly hovering over his back, not entirely sure at that moment what you wanted to do, as you were still in shock. But, after a brief pause you brought your arms firmly around his body and hugged Zemo back with just as much care and buried your face in the crook of his shoulder. You heard him mumbling words into the side of your head, but couldn't understand what he was really saying.

Time could have been standing still for the infinite period we were latched onto one another. It wasn't until the clearing of Bucky's throat that jarred us out of the moment. The noise wasn't loud, but the room had been so silent until then; it sounded like a freight train.

Realization must have hit us both at the same time that we weren't alone in the room, and we jumped apart as if lightning had struck us both.

At this point, you were looking at anything in room, but Zemo. You started playing with the ends of your sleeves in nervousness when Sam spoke up in a very slow and deliberate manner, "Would you care to explain to us, what is going on?"

"I thought you were going to have Bucky explain to me, why Zemo's not in prison!" you say back, not ready at all to try and explain things. You still needed to wrap your own head around it, before attempting to share your brief history with Zemo.

"Oh, no doll. This can wait," James answered. You could tell he was not happy, but maybe more confused than anything by how he responded.

Both were assessing Zemo to try and figure out if this is some sort of game to him. Bucky had reached out to grab your arm and pulled you gently away from the criminal mastermind and closer to them to instinctually protect you from him.

You outwardly sighed, knowing there was a long conversation about to happen.

Zemo took a step forward and James took a step back bringing you with him. Sam seemed perturbed over the entire situation, but Zemo spoke up first.

"Is that, what I think it is?" he said. Zemo cocked his head to the side and eyed you with amusement.

You silently shook off the hold Bucky has on you and raise an eyebrow at him to not try that again. You swiveled back to Zemo, placing your hands on your hips. Confusion was written clearly on your face as you answered him back, "Could you be a little less vague?" A small smile graced your face in reply.

Zemo pointed at your midsection and a smug expression appeared on his face.

"I must say, you look quite fetching in my clothes."

You were physically startled by his comment. You had forgotten you were wearing his hoodie. It's why you went to Germany. To return it to him, but when you found out he was no longer there, you realized you were going to have to either keep it permanently or track him down. Sam's call came in before you could make that decision. Fate really is something else.

Your hands grabbed the fabric of the hoodie as you closed your eyes and ducked your head. You could feel the embarrassment threatening to turn your whole face red.

You started to shuffled away knowing an immediate outburst was coming from both of her friends. What Zemo just said, implied so many different things. So, of course Sam and Bucky would start shouting without having any context to the situation of how you acquired a piece of his clothing.

If the floor could have opened up at that moment, you would have appreciated it.

Sam and Bucky were both visibly upset and clearly about to start a fight with Zemo, but thankfully Sam, being the more even tempered of the group, stopped Bucky from doing anything. He had shrugged off Sam and stared at you with hurt on his face.

You exhaled shakily as things started to calm down. You dared to catch a glimpse of Zemo, and of course, out of everyone here, he seemed to thoroughly enjoy causing the chaos he wrought with his sly comment.

If looks could kill, he would have been flayed alive.

"Enough," you said to everyone. It was time to clear the air. "Let's all just take a seat."

You had gotten exasperated by the entire situation and turned to Bucky and Sam, "Do you automatically have to jump to conclusions? Do you not think there is a perfectly logical explanation, somewhere?" You had slapped your hands down by your sides and turned to Zemo. He looked as if he were about to say something, but you cut him off pointing a finger at him.

"And you. Big trouble. Don't even get me started."

As you stared at Zemo; he at least had the decency to appear somewhat contrite at your scolding. You could still tell he was mildly amused about the whole situation.

You saw Sam had taken a seat and started to wave you over to where he and Bucky were.

"Start talking," he said.

"I'm not sure where to start," you answered, pacing back and forth.

"How about the beginning?" Bucky parroted out arms crossed in front of him, he was clearly still a bit defensive.

"The beginning. Right. Sure. I can do that," you stopped to think about how to start, but everything just seemed to be as if you were actually hiding something from them, when you weren't. It just never came up, and The Blip was emotional for everyone.

Truth be told, you would like to avoid this conversation at all costs. For many reasons, some you're not ready to deal with.

Zemo had spoke up while you were deciding how to broach the subject at hand.

"If I may," he spoke.

The three of us had answered him simultaneously, "No!"

Yeah, it was going to be a long day.

OOOOO

[kachuuyaa]

— ELYSIAN’S FUGITIVES.

06072021 ; g.i oneshot , gn!reader , bsd!reader

genre ; angsty fluff ig i dunno???

includes ; WISP!CHUUYA MAKES HIS APPEARANCE :D mentions of death, gore, gods, chuuya being cute (He Squeaks!) chuuya and reader meant to be REAL, literally just a first meeting between aether n you Italics is Japanese

synopsis ; The punishment from the gods is to be sent to Elysian, then banished into a never-ending cycle of paranoia.

author's notes ; U FINALLY MEET AETHER. wisp!chuuya is the best thing I have ever written ever I was mentally squealing because oh my oiguoidsp[';][][21P]2;\.,sdmNXK

You couldn’t count the days you have roamed Teyvat, it has been too long since then. For 60 years (it was 60 years, wasn’t it? You don’t remember anymore), you have not crossed any country’s border, only listening to their seemingly endless musings. You have never been out in the sea, tensity and uneasiness forming in the pit of your stomach whenever so. However, being isolated from the land the gods rule upon, has earned you a title. Your name is being whispered as a warning or a legend like a scripture formed with the wind. Some were afraid of you, while some respected you. It was pathetic, really, how desperate these people were compared to those in Yokohama. There was no point in dwelling in the past, now, was there? Despite receiving unwanted attention by passersby, you paid no attention to those who whispered your name like a mantra, spouting vile, vulgar assumptions about you. You realized-- quickly-- that they only think for themselves, not for the benefit of others. Wouldn’t that be the source of their demise? Well, you don’t linger on trivial topics for too long, it’s only fair for you to care only about yourself in a world you don’t belong in (you know you belong here now, yet you felt as if Elysian was better than this place they call home).

You have heard of the outlander who caught the wind, saving a foreign nation he seemed to have been in once, only, and you have let the news flow from one ear to another. Who were you to care? No one should catch your attention in a world full of insatiable people. Each step made the grass crunch, making your way to the foot of Dragonspine. Chuuya followed suit, and he settled himself on your head. You figured out that he could shapeshift, probably his punishment as well, yet so far, he has only shifted into a bird and a wisp. His wisp form wasn’t as elegant as you may think, a small, hooded figure encased in smoke-colored clothing, resembling the coat he used to wear. On top, there was a small black X-shaped symbol in the middle of his chest. Around his small form were orange particles, that remind you vividly of Chuuya's ability. A little hat, one you were familiar with, was situated on top of his small head. It was the hat he was wearing during his time as a mafioso, you deduced as such. The tiny creature lets out small squeaks of content, nuzzling itself on your head; seems like he thought it was a good pillow. A chuckle of amusement escapes your lips, turning your head around to watch the scenery in front of you. Dragonspine was one of your favorite places to visit during your free time, snow piling on top of another, making the white mountain as beautiful as it is. However, you do not venture into Dragonspine, not wanting to risk your life for creatures who seem to always take your time.

As much as you hate to admit it, you have most likely killed more hilichurls than you ever killed back in Yokohama. The songs of relentless, snow-covered winds never fail to make your unease and worry falter, even for a moment. The glacial scenery of the mountain attracted your attention, especially your first visit here. A few snowflakes settled themselves on your face, melting due to the heat emitting from your body. If you had the chance, should you tell your friends about the scenery, they would love it too, wouldn't they? You know they would, however, how would you know so? They’re gone, and so is your attachment to anything but Chuuya. “Do you like the scenery, Chuchu?” soft taps on your head were his response, indicating that he was displeased with the nickname you gave him. He agreed nonetheless, sitting on the palm of your hand. He squirmed, looking for a more comfortable position, and stilled after a while.

Memories of the past have always plagued your mind, reminding you that you were alone, again. Despite the copious memories you have stored away, none will bring you back to the place you have regarded as your home. For once, you have felt safe, all the while knowing death follows you wherever you go. Death was the dark, hollow cloak you wore while walking the path of dread in your past life, hands coated with the blood of another, and your eyes held the burden you were forced to carry until the day you died. The amount of blood was enough to shatter the dreams children told you to believe in, you were holding on the thinnest thread, one soaked with blood, your blood, reminding you how much you have suffered and how you made others weak, on their knees, while keeping a straight face as you watch the life draining from their faces. You have learned that life was unfair, gods turning a blind eye to the generation you were put in, leading the people to be self-reliant, causing resentment and disrespect to be aimed at those who call themselves “gods”.

Did they even exist? You have heard, and read, tell of what the gods and goddesses have done to provide, to give, and to sacrifice. Did they give up? Were they satisfied with what they have gotten? Has their insatiable lust for approval and desire to fulfill their selfish, carnal desires quenched? Did they only long for what they have desired, using their power to prove themselves better among the world of mortals? Were they not the selfless, kind gods described in the books of old? Nevertheless, you had no respect for the divine. You only had yourself to depend on since the start. You controlled your own death, knowing that when you died, it was time. You could have stopped yourself from fading, though, but you were tired, you let it happen. And though you know that your death will be remembered, not in the history books, but in the Port Mafia, you will be forever remembered.

59 years have passed. There is no time to dwell in the past, all you have is the memories you swear to protect. Your fight with immortality has been futile, leaving you to bask in your own presence for 59 years. That is until Chuuya finally found you. And you? You found him. It wasn’t expected for you to know who he was, a mere spirit cursed by gods above to wander a world he was unfamiliar with. He was stripped of Arahabaki, leaving him with only his outermost ability, “For The Tainted Sorrow”. He didn’t mind, as well, Arahabaki resides within him, giving him a sense of dread, and leaving him with his identity that he can’t seem to solve. Arahabaki has forever stained him as blood stained your hands, giving him scars that will never leave him. In that life, and in the next. He had you, sweet, malevolent, outstanding you. Though he never voiced it out, he felt, well, complete, to say the least. And while feeling detached from not being completely human has affected him far too much, you were there to make him feel-- what did you make him feel, really? He can’t decipher his own feelings as his own identity. In all the years he has roamed this world as an insignificant wisp of the wind, he found himself tangled in another adventure with the “most insufferable partner aside from Dazai”.

Your footsteps were carried by the wind, walking to the City of Mondstadt, again, Chuuya on your shoulder, scanning the area for any enemies or the like. You were currently looking for food, choosing to shop in Mondstadt instead of catching wildlife. Each step has your coat moving from one side to another, boots making the grass crunch in every step. “Ne, Chuuya, do you want to buy pancakes from Mond?” you whispered, voice soft, only for Chuuya to hear. Said wisp only nods its small head, his little hood moving ever so slightly while he nods. Deciding that it would be best for him to rest, you put him in your breast pocket, his little head poking just a bit. Chuuya softly squeaked, nuzzling on the fabric, and opted to rest despite his unsaid protests. But before you could set foot onto the City Of Freedom, a high-pitched voice prevented you from doing so. “Hey!” they said, you whipped your head to the direction you heard it from, spotting a seemingly young-looking traveler, and a floating pixie-- wait.

Isn’t he the honorary knight? You thought to yourself, unconsciously cupping the pocket Chuuya resides in, feeling him squirm when he came in contact with your gloved palm. Instead of giving them a response, you simply stared at them, eyes glimmering with amusement. “Hi.” a simple, short greeting. Although you would prefer to ask the traveler some questions, that wouldn’t be necessary. You were able to decipher every detail easily, too easily, in fact. Aether, however, wasn’t fazed. He was well aware of how they described you, and how notorious you were due to appearance. Scoffing at the assumptions, he looked forward to meeting you. Perhaps he will look forward to his endeavors with you by his side, no? A star sent from Elysian would only brighten the mortal world, cursed with divine power and lonesome memories.

However, you did not know that a simple greeting exchanged on your first day of the meeting would bloom into something much more.

Ah, it seems that the show is starting once again, a different chapter, a different genre.

2021 © kachuuyaa. all rights reserved. do not steal and claim my work as your own.