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jensthwa · 1 month ago

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mountebank chem pt. three (JYH x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

* 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤: 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐲. The first time you met Yunho, you knew he was going to be part of the biggest tragedy of your life: the loss of your freedom, of your free will. You didn't know why back then but what you did figure out is that you and Jeong Yunho were going to, eventually and very publicly, date each other at some point. Is that reason enough to hate his guts? Well, of course! Now, when the time comes to fulfill the prophecy, how the hell are you going to pull it off? And, most importantly, what do you need to do to not fall in love with him in the process?

PAIRING: rich!yunho x rich!reader.

GENRE: enemies to friends to lovers.

WORD COUNT: 16.5k (dear god).

WARNINGS: eventual SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, this chapter is truly them being cute and barely fighting which is ???, healthy competition i think, they get a serious case of the silly goose at some point, mentions of drinking at some point, gyuri being an overprotective friend, meeting new people, emotional talk involving kids yall will see why, pet names (princess), descriptions of female and male anatomy, first kisses!! *the crowd cheers*, a little bit of dry humping... *the crowd boos* and unresolved feelings!!!! *the crowd AND y/n leave in angry tears*.

NOTES: hi everyone! here's part three of this mini series that is PART OF THE LOVE'S AN UNCHARTED PATH / SHOW & TELL UNIVERSE. so, so sorry it took so long but i had a bit of a writer's block these past months :(. there's mentions of the last installment plot so, if you're new around here, you can always find the rest of this series and the rest of the stories of this universe on my masterist! this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send to my askbox/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: december 5th 2024.

masterlist - part one - part two.

There's this image of you that flashes across Yunho’s mind.

It happened right before he fell asleep last night, too, and he's having a hard time figuring out if he only dreamed it or if it actually happened.

The skin on your back glistening, the cut of the dress after he pulled down the zipper just enough to not be disrespectful.

He did it out of instinct, out of the sudden familiarity he felt between you both. He did it because, before he had the genius idea of helping you with your dress (to get it off in some way, what the fuck is wrong with him), you were really close to his face and he couldn't think straight for the remainder of the time he was in your presence.

There was a time in his life where the mere thought of you brought discomfort to him. It kinda brings discomfort to him now, too, but it's a different kind of discomfort. It's dull, it's confusing and it's angering at the same time because, if he was sure of something before, it was the fact that he never really wanted to be near you.

You were the bane of his existence when you two were kids, something that was forced on him the second your parents wanted and he despises the lack of control and freedom he's always had around you.

And now there's a flash of you genuinely laughing at him for blushing after the old lady from last night gave him some not-so-innocent compliments in front of everyone. There's a flash of you defending him when you really didn't need to, even if you stated otherwise.

There's a flash of you wiping the corners of your mouth after finishing the food he made you, a visage that completely besots him.

He never really wanted to kiss you.

Only once, at your graduation party, but that was drunk him and playing spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven really did a number on his teenage hormones at the time.

He remembers the bottle landing on the girl next to you and the guy next to you and the guy next to the guy next to you. Yunho kissed them all with the hope of kissing you at some point that night. Just because he was curious, because deep inside of him he knew your parents plans all along.

He didn't get to do it, though, and so it didn't really matter; the wish died as soon as he woke up the next day with a huge hangover and a dry mouth. Yesterday, he thought the same would happen if he went to sleep and dreamed about anything but you.

That, of course, didn't happen.

Now he’s just left trying to figure out what the fuck is going on exactly as the memory of your lips and the sting of annoyance that follows the thought of him wanting you in any way other than fifty feet apart distracts him from whatever his friends are saying right now.

“He lost his fucking mind,” Gyuri stands in front of him, hands on her hips and furrowed brows like a mother who’s scolding her troubled child. She collapses on the couch behind her a second later, next to her best friend who’s giggling at her and her reaction “He’s not even answering to me.”

They called for an emergency meeting at San and Wooyoung’s place, as expected. He was supposed to see them on saturday anyway but now he gave the friend group a reason to hang out a day earlier. Seonghwa did too, but his story, apparently, is more interesting than the oldest sudden girlfriend.

In a way, they both got out of nowhere partners. But the friend group is hanging out a day earlier than expected so he’s not really sure why he’s being reprimanded for something so out of his control.

They don't know this is out of his control. Maybe that's why.

Wooyoung takes a sit in front of him, on top of the wooden table separating the space between the tv and the couch and puts a hand on his shoulder, like a father who’s trying to be on his side of things without offending his wife “Care to explain yourself, Yunho?”

He decides to play pretend so he doesn’t have to think about it more than he needs to “Explain what?”

As Gyuri gasps, Woo shakes his head before dramatically hanging it low.

“God help you, my dear friend.”

Gyuri gets up again and Wooyoung gets up as well, stepping aside so he can give space to her to regard poor little him with the angriest look ever directed at an innocent man.

He thanks Mingi for opening the front door of the apartment right at that moment.

Behind him, Mingi’s girlfriend, Yeosang, Hongjoong and Seonghwa follow suit. San is in the kitchen finishing the dishes and Jongho is at school, taking a quiz or something, he thinks.

He didn’t really read the group chat like that. They just requested his presence and he spawned in the apartment half an hour later.

But he didn't take into account that he was seeing Mingi that day too. Mingi, his best friend for a few years now, the only person he should've actually told what was going to happen yesterday night.

He fucked up.

“Can you let the man explain himself, Gyuri?” Mingi asks, down on one knee and helping his girl take off her shoes. Yunho wants to roll his eyes but Mingi is, after all, head over heels for her.

How is he going to explain to them that he’s not head over heels over his new, sudden girlfriend? That, in fact, he thought he despised her until yesterday.

And that now he’s not able to shake her from his thoughts even if he desperately wants to.

“What’s going on?” Seonghwa asks and Gyuri turns and points at him.

“We’re talking to you after we talk to him.” She makes a show of her threat, her pointed finger moving to Yunho’s forehead and slightly pushing him back on his seat.

Seonghwa rolls his eyes and plops down on the couch, next to San’s girlfriend “Oh, my God.”

“I’m sorry,” she tells him with a tiny smile “She’s freaking out today.”

Wooyoung turns the tv on. His laptop is connected to it through a long, orange cord and when Yunho turns to the screen, it shows a picture of him and you with plastic smiles that look too real.

If only people knew.

“This is what’s going on,” he says, pointing to the image and then leaning into his laptop to click a new tab “The Jeong and Kim empires merge into one after their youngest announce they’re in a relationship at yesterday’s twenty year celebratory gala,” reading directly from the article, Yunho manages to cringe at the wording of it before Wooyoung turns to him “Since when, bitch?”

Yunho opens his mouth to reply but both Yeosang and Seonghwa make a surprised noise.

“Oh?��

“Isn’t she…?” Yeosang looks at him “Is she?”

He nods and Yeosang claps, mumbling a I knew it under his breath.

“So that’s what she meant when she told me I looked familiar, she knows you!” Seonghwa smiles a little and then his expression turns into a frown, like he just realized something he shouldn't “When did you start dating her?”

“Well, actually—”

“And didn’t tell us?” Mingi’s girlfriend looks very offended but he can tell she’s half joking, especially when Mingi smirks a little and then joins her with a pout.

His best friend looks at him a second too long, though and that lets him know he might be a little offended.

Mingi opens his mouth to speak but a choir of voices stops him from doing so and Yunho breathes out his regret for even showing up and for not explaining everything to Mingi first.

“What do they mean ‘merge their empires’. Are you getting married?”

“When did you even meet her?”

“Through his family, I suppose.”

“Are you getting married?”

“So did you cheat on her like two months ago with that girl from the bar?”

“No, no, he didn’t hook up with the girl, that was Hongjoong.”

“Sure I did,” he says and gives Yunho a look, like he doesn’t remember who they’re talking about “Yuyu, can I be the main groomsman?” Hoonjong asks as San returns with a snack plate on his hand and he takes it from him when he offers it, putting some chips on his mouth immediately “Hwa, too. We're the oldest, so.”

Mingi scoffs “And I’m literally his best friend, don’t even try it.”

“That’s literally me, oh my God? Liar?”

Yunho is starting to feel a little overwhelmed by the amount of noise he normally would contribute to.

Right now? He wants everyone to shut up while he finds a way of explaining everything and not sound completely insane in the process.

It’s quite the normal concept, he thinks. Arranged matrimonies are a thing in a lot of cultures and in his it’s more subtle than anything, not quite what it used to be, but they’re still there especially for families like his.

He’s not getting married, he should also clarify that. But as Mingi takes hold of Wooyoung’s laptop and scrolls through the article and then turns to him asking for an explanation with his eyes instead of his words, all the coherent sentences he just put together in his mind die on his tongue.

Mingi is not really one to pry, but his stare tells him that he’s a little bit concerned with everything. After all, he’s the only one who understands the full complicated history Yunho has with his family.

“Guys,” he says, all mischievousness wiped out of his face “let him explain and don’t interrupt.”

The noise quiets down and everyone looks at him, expectant and curious. Now that he’s able to untense his shoulders and take a calming breath, he also notices a few concerned stares that join Mingi in the sentiment.

Alright. Okay. He can do this.

Yunho sends his best friend a thankful smile before gulping down his nerves.

“That’s Kim Y/N,” he points at the tv screen, although half of your face is cut off because Mingi scrolled down to read “I��ve known her since we were kids, her parents and my parents are really good friends and her dad helped my dad launch his company, so we were… They were celebrating that yesterday.”

Everyone nods and then he catches Seonghwa’s eye “My brother and her brother are very good friends, too. You know Soohyun hyung, don’t you?”

“Oh,” he seems taken by surprise by that “he’s a new client.”

“I figured,” Yunho smiles, “He’s a good guy, just a little…”

“Carefree?” Hwa offers.

“Mhm. Anyways,” he shakes his head, trying to get back on track “Jeong Tech made a huge mistake a few months ago and so they decided to announce our relationship yesterday to kind of… Everyone loves Y/N,” he says quickly “She’s… We—”

“Are you two together or not?” Wooyoung asks, clearly confused and when everyone shushes him he mutters his apologies.

Yunho wants to answer him with the truth. He really does and it’s right there, ready to come out, but he thinks about you. About everything you told him yesterday, about how you actually seemed to care to please your parents.

He thinks about his own mother’s threats.

And he knows it’s a little stupid wondering if someone in this room would tell, but he hesitates.

It hurts him to hesitate but then someone speaks up. There, curled around San’s arm and peeling open an orange, his savior speaks up.

“Relationship of convenience,” she says softly and matter of factly, turning heads in her direction “What? I could’ve told you this two hours ago,” she points at Gyuri and Wooyoung “But you refused to explain! Come on, everybody,” giggling, she offers a freshly peeled slice to her boyfriend. “I work with books for a living, you work with books for a living!” She points at Woo again, “This trope is classic,” and then she looks back at him with a kind and honest smile. “You two do look good together, though. Are you friends, at least?”

He hesitates. You both definitely, sort of, made amends last night. But it's a little weird and, suddenly, also hard to explain.

Yunho thought the word friends would've just rolled out of his tongue naturally, as a little white lie to ease everyone's worries. Now, it hardly makes its way onto it so he just nods after a long pause that definitely raises suspicion on everyone's face.

“We've known each other for a very long time, went to highschool together and everything,” that seems to eradicate some of the doubts, because San grins and turns to his girlfriend with a knowing smile that she returns.

Gyuri is not as convinced “But are you friends?”

“Yes,” he returns immediately after that, wanting the conversation to be over. He’s not lying, not really, not after what you both said yesterday “We are, we’re trying to be.”

“So you hate the bitch. Got it.” Gyuri nods.

Yunho takes offense to that, oddly enough. Because no, he doesn't hate you, not a little, not at all.

He thinks.

Besides, he confirmed yesterday that you're not much of a bitch and it hurts that Gyuri thinks you are one, but San’s girlfriend it's already handling that before he has the opportunity to defend you like you defended him.

“Babe, don't call her that.”

Gyuri raises her hands defensively “I'm just taking preventive action! What if she is a bitch?”

“She's not.” Yunho says and they both turn their heads to him, Gyuri with a frown and her best friend with a knowing smile.

What does she know that he doesn't? Beats him.

Instead, he settles “She's just… Well, she's—”

“Intense?” Gyuri offers.

Wooyoung shakes his head and points to his ex “No, that's you.”

For once, he's glad their bickering interrupts him because he doesn't really know how to describe you. What's his current opinion on you? He has no clue. It's weird, he hates it a bit, but the feeling is there and the words are on the verge of spilling out of his mouth.

San’s girlfriend gasps and then murmurs an excited: “I love enemies to lovers!”

“I don't think real people can fit into fictional tropes, babe,” Gyuri returns, taking a slice she's offering in her direction before eyeing Yunho “Or can they?”

That he can answer “We're not enemies and we're definitely not lovers.” He says with a shrug.

“You're something way worse then,” San’s girlfriend nods and then smiles in excitement “Can't wait!”

“For what?” Yunho asks in a whisper but Mingi, thankfully, interrupts.

“Why are they talking about marriage, then?” He asks, his concern is palpable and Yunho feels kind of bad. He feels really bad, actually.

He could have told him this, at least. He could have talked about you, but the truth is that his mind avoided remembering you if not necessary; that’s how much you two seemed to hate each other.

Now?

It’s kind of complicated not to think about you when you’re plaguing his mind, infecting it like a virus.

Or painting it, like the canvases he saw in your room yesterday.

Do you paint? Is that something you like to do in your free time?

Why does he feel like he knows very little about you, all of the sudden?

He groans and then shakes his head.

“There’s no marriage, they’re getting ahead of themselves,” he clarifies.

“Is there going to be a marriage?”

There's movement on the screen now and he sees Mingi’s girlfriend scrolling unapologetically through the article. She's watching a video of the both of you posing together for a picture and there's something that pulls inside of him. His eyes attempt to water but he manages to keep his emotions down, locked up because there's a lot of feelings he won't put on his friends.

He's sure they think of him as a dumb puppy who's actually very academically smart, just a little clumsy with his social interactions. He's been pretending he is, anyway.

The only one who really sees through him is Mingi but even him, to some degree, has bought his immature act. And to some extent it became real for Yunho himself, too, so deep fears and sad emotions are off the table.

So he pulls himself together and turns to his friend.

“I think she has an escape plan if our parents decide to marry us off to each other,” he admits, snorting out a laugh that’s a little bitter but more amused than anything, he shakes his head “So no, no engagement, no marriage.”

“Why, what's wrong with you?” Gyuri asks, eyes squinted with prejudice and suspicion “Why wouldn't she want to marry you?”

“Well, that's not… Gyuri,” he opens and closes his mouth a few times, not really knowing what to say to his friend's question, so he looks at Mingi with begging eyes “That's not really the point, right?”

“Don't look at me, she's right,” Mingi shrugs, “Why wouldn't she want to marry you?”

“Because we're not in love!”

Wooyoung scoffs “And yet you're a perfectly fine and rich young man, so why wouldn't she want to marry you?”

“So we officially hate her, right?” Gyuri says and claps her hands before standing up again for the millionth time and heading his way. Her hands fall on his shoulders and he has to crane his neck to see her from below “Okay, then! What's the plan? Do we get rid of her?”

“No!”

“I could, if that's what you want.”

His head snaps at Hongjoong at the suggestion, disbelief writing on his face “I love you guys but the Yunho protection squad needs to dissolve right now, everything’s fine!”

“Is it?” Mingi asks and Yunho takes his time to look at his best friend before nodding.

“It is. We're supposed to break up eventually anyway,” air leaves his lungs in a long sigh and then he gulps a little, not really sure how to say what he wants to say without offending anyone. And Gyuri's hands are still on him, so the pressure doubles at the potential threat of physical harm that his next statement can get him. “Listen, I won't make any of you sign nda’s or anything like that because I trust you but please, please don't tell anyone this.”

He looks around the room and sees wide eyes before they turn understanding and when his friends nod in agreement, he feels a weight lift off his shoulders.

Literally, Gyuri moves to sit next to Wooyoung who tries to put an arm around her and fails.

“You're not that famous, Yunho,” Hongjoong kisses his teeth and the mood shifts into the lighthearted one he's used to “Unlike me. I'm a celebrity among my peers.”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes “Yeah, because all the criminals turned music students turn guitarists of a nugu rock band worship you.”

Hongjoong ignores him but his smile is tense and his eyes are squinted in fake joy when he speaks again “You are going to the gig tomorrow, right?”

He laughs “Of course. I might be a little late but I'll get to see your set.”

Hongjoong frowns “Why?”

“I have a schedule now, so…”

“Oh, my God,” San’s girlfriend squeaks, typing something in her phone and Yunho catches his friend fondly following with his eyes the sentences she's putting together “And what else do you have to do now?”

“Babe, I hope you're not writing a story about this.” Gyuri warns but her friend ignores her and turns to Seonghwa.

Who realizes right away what she's doing, gaping at her and her betrayal with feign hurt. Yunho gets it a second later and his lips curve upwards a little.

“And what did you do to get a girlfriend so fast? It was the motorcycle, wasn't it?”

Wooyoung gasps and Gyuri seems to remember suddenly that there were two important subjects to dissect on the table today, so she gets up again with her hands on her hips and stares at him like a distressed mother.

“What the hell were you thinking, Park Seonghwa? Girlfriend? You met her yesterday!”

“Three days ago, but yes, maybe—”

“Oh, three days ago! That's an eternity in dog years, right? Are you a dog, Seonghwa?”

Seonghwa’s eyes practically meet the back of his head and Yunho has to stifle a laugh “Not a dog, Gyuri, just a guy.”

She pauses and then makes a face.

“That… Actually makes a lot of sense.”

“We made the mistake of calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend way too soon. But, to be fair, his text messages woke us up,” Seonghwa's finger is pointing to Yunho and he pouts as a response “Kind of, so we were sleepy and—”

“Sure, let's hang out tonight so you can meet my girlfriend,” Hongjoong reads directly from his phone and shakes his head. Yunho can't actually tell if he's offended or not “Not even a warning first.”

“I literally told you about her and you told me to go for it.”

“Did I?”

“Yeosang was there.”

At the mention of his name, Yeosang looks up from his phone and smiles shyly at the oldest two “Correct.”

There's a bit of silence and then Hwa clears his throat softly.

“She's going to be my girlfriend though,” he says, almost in a whisper but everyone hears him “So I don't know what the big deal is.”

Wooyoung slumps from the couch to the ground with his eyes closed in defeat “Oh, dear God.”

“The big deal is that—”

Gyuri's voice fades to the background and he catches Hwa telling her that she's not his mother or something before tuning the discussion out.

When he turns to his left, Mingi is still eyeing him to make sure he's okay. Yunho nods and smiles and then offers his hand to him, which he takes.

Mingi's girlfriend turned off the laptop and is watching the interaction with a tiny contempt curve to her lips and, when Yunho catches a glimpse at San’s girlfriend from behind his friends built form (she's completely hiding behind him from all the chaos Gyuri is bringing to the living room), she catches his eye and then blinks one of hers in complicity.

Again, Yunho wonders what she knows that he doesn't.

But with the attention off of him, your face returns to his head.

So he's not really able to concentrate on anything else for the remainder of the hang out. When he finally, finally has his mind occupied by something else (San dared him to beat him at Mario Kart and Jongho brought food and drinks as an apology for completing his academic duties instead of showing up to the meeting), a text pops up from an unknown number.

+82-5-059-6733: Hey. Added your number from that stupid group chat our brothers made because telling each other things through our assistants makes me physically ill, hope you don't mind. +82-5-059-6733: Actually, I don't really care if you mind. If you block me, I'll find another phone to text you on. +82-5-059-6733: Anyway, I'll send you the address of where we're going fashionably late tonight. It's an early drive so you're free to skip this (Do skip it please). +82-5-059-6733: Jeong Yunho, do not ignore me or I swear to God…

He hates that, after reading his home screen, he has a smile on his lips. You sound both formal and pushy through text, too and he didn't think it was possible to have so much personality that it filters through writing as well. He's finding out new things about you and, although he made it a point to ask you to get along yesterday, it still feels really weird to do so.

When he turns to the screen again, he's down a few spots and San’s character speeds besides his in its kart.

“Is it her?” San asks, looking at him for a second, a knowing smile on his lips.

“It is but I'm not smiling because it's her,” he defends himself but there's a tint to his cheeks that might give him away. San laughs “Shut up. Your girlfriend’s schemes are rubbing on you.”

At the mention, he catches through the corner of his eye as his friend turns to the mentioned girl and Yunho smiles again before he hears him sigh, completely and utterly in love.

“Thank God.”

He recovers on the game while San is distracted, passing him and winning the race. The sound of it ending makes San snap his head back and watch as Yunho relaxes on the couch in egotistical victory.

“Ugh.”

The sun is shining through the clouds even though it was supposed to rain again. There's a singular gray one moving ominously among the other ones and threatening to mess up what you planned for the day.

It suspiciously moves past you and into the city when Yunho's car pulls up the hill. By the time he gets down, the sun is shining in full force and you roll your eyes when he regards you and your closed arms with a wink.

What does he gain out of this? You've been wondering since that night if coming here is better than staying at home for the weekend.

He could stay at his dorm, though. Is that an option? The curiosity you feel towards him now has completely taken over. It feels disgusting.

Either way, you hate that he actually showed up. That means someone, somewhere around you, is going to casually document the thing you kept to yourself for a long time. No because it's a secret but because there's no real need for anyone to know that you do this.

Your presence on social media is scarce, you have one open account that you use every six months (if you remember to use it at all) and the one you stalk people of your circle on. You have a twitter account that's private and not under your real name, a youtube account that doesn't really count as social media in your eyes and nothing else.

No one needs to know you do these sorts of things. Then, you wouldn't be doing it out of the kindness of your heart but to get sympathy points. Even though you'll always do it because you want to and not because you have to.

There's a lot of things you have to do, like your relationship with Yunho, but never this.

You know it's only like five out of one hundred people who wish you ill but those few people are enough to tarnish the affection the kids have for you, the trust you worked so hard to gain the few years you've been trying to make this orphanage somewhat quality-of-life acceptable.

You stumbled upon it one of those drunk early mornings where you had to walk around to get the alcohol out of your system before even daring showing up home or near it. Not because your family didn't know what you were up to, but because of the possible photographers roaming around the house.

A drunk underage daughter was worse than anything back then. Maybe it is now, too, but you remembered the mistake you made the first time you got drunk and the absolute reaping your mother gave you.

So when you locked eyes with a middle aged woman in the middle of nowhere after walking around half an hour before in heels, your almost-sober self pretended to be lost just to talk to someone and feel safe. The sun was barely showing that day and you were cold and sad and angry for not controlling yourself at the party and it must've shown in your face because you saw the woman taking a deep breath before offering you to step inside.

At that hour, the kids were asleep. There were traces of them everywhere, though and you remember the way your heart sank at the lifeness of the space even in the still hours of the morning.

It looked lived in, enjoyable and cozy. You never had that. Toys were put back in their place the second you got distracted by the tv or a book or when your mother said that was enough playing around for the day. Your room was always neat and tidy, put together and devoid of any evidence that you were real.

That has changed a little now, but back then seeing something you didn't have struck something within you. There was obviously no way you would complain about it out loud, though.

You had everything solved, your struggle has always been insignificant when compared with everyone else outside of your circle. It's fine, it's always been fine and the tears brought to your eyes when the middle aged woman put a hand on your shoulder and consoled you when she saw the environment was affecting you meant nothing.

You tried to convince yourself they meant nothing and tried to keep your heart where it belonged: inside of your tinsel bubble, frozen and harsh so that no one takes advantage of you.

And then she managed to melt the ice not even five minutes into explaining what it was that they did there. She said her position wasn't permanent, that the district kept changing directors and that the quality of life they were able to give to the kids was acceptable at best. Not good, not what they deserved.

Maybe that was the first time you took advantage of your privilege for something good. Because next thing you knew, you were putting together a presentation and pressing your father to do something about the home.

Your mother was scandalized but she agreed to do something with your ideas if your brother was put on the front of the newspapers, inaugurating the renovations made to the place.

Saturdays have been destined to the orphanage since then. They know not to put anything else on your schedule for the day, they know not to film you or send photographers per your request. Because your brother was already seen making the good deed a few years ago, so there's not really a way to take advantage of this anymore.

Besides, the district still manages it and no amount of volunteering can help the fact that its administration and the decisions that they make are as dumb as you believing for a second that Yunho was going to take your advice and stay home today.

Yunho being here changes things, you know it does. Why did they put this in his new schedule if not? You thought it was a punishment for him but now you're not so sure.

There's lack of movement, lack of press, lack of your mother's touch to it so you wonder what's the angle here. And, as usual, Yunho seems to be in the dark about the things plaguing your mind.

You point at his outfit in retaliation when he gets near you and your mother’s assistant, who became yours for the day.

“Is this what you could put together with such a long notice?”

“You said casual.”

“And this is your casual?”

At some point these past few days, and after seeing all the pictures of you two together at the gala, you came to terms with Yunho’s attractiveness. Objectively, he's a handsome guy. His dad was handsome at one point, his mom is absolutely breathtaking and his brother is handsome as well. They're just a family of naturally physically gifted people, alright?

But it is kind of unfair that he can look this good in flared jeans and a white fitted shirt, for fucks sake. He looks like he just got out of a Calvin Klein shoot… If the shoot was somehow made in the seventies. The black belt and the black boots with a tiny platform he's wearing add to the whole look and your eye twitches a little.

He looks really fucking cool, actually but there's no way in hell you would ever accept that. Handsome? Sure. Cool? Your mind is tricking you somehow.

It's that warmth that invaded your body when he made you food a few nights ago making you think nonsense. You want to desperately get rid of it.

He scoffs but a tiny smile tugs at his lips when he looks you up and down “Is this yours?”

Looking down at your wide leg trousers, your kitty heels and your short sleeved cotton top, you fail to see where the problem is.

“Duh.”

He whistles, low and for a few seconds and for a moment you think he's doing it because of you and your heart beats erratically until you realize his eyes are fixed on the orphanage.

You smile a little.

These past few years you've been able to get funding and provide funding to it, so the renovations just keep coming and coming. It doesn't look like the one you found refuge on that morning a few years ago at all and it definitely doesn't look like the one your brother had the chance to be photographed with either.

Right now, it has a little bit of your touch: It looks like an elegant structure, but a building that's also suitable for children to be in. It has a playground vibe to it, the exterior and the design of the new entrance you approved a few months ago only solidifies it.

The kids love it. You didn't exactly run the design through them but it would've shown if they didn't.

They're very expressive, but decisive too. Bossy, even. You look at Yunho and you want to smile fully because he simply doesn't know what he got himself into.

That proves to be true as the hours go by. The kids raise their eyebrows when they meet him, say hi to him with a bow and then turn to you for explanations. When you say that this is a new friend that's going to be helping out that day, you don't miss the way Yunho lights up a bit besides you.

And then that light is completely stolen by hour three, you see it as he chases kids around the yard. It hurts that they acclimated so fast to him but, again, when you got there the first time the place wasn't really one where they felt completely safe.

This proves that you helped change that. Good.

There's a few of them, the older ones, that sit on the ground and stare daggers at Yunho like he's going to hurt the younger kids at any moment. These kids were practically toddlers when you met them and they had a hard time being around you when you started to show up regularly.

They barely spoke a word and, when they did, they yelled at you for not playing with the toys like you were supposed to, or because you looked too clean and too pretty to be messing with paint or something of the sort.

It took months for you to build that trust and now the oldest is a tween with shaggy hair and a scowl on his face because he thinks of Yunho the same way he thought of you when he was just a kid.

He barely notices when you crouch next to him, the hand you put on his shoulder making him jump slightly.

“I understand the feeling of wanting to punch Yunho in the face,” you start, smiling and then tilting your head a little “but you're going to burn a hole on his back if you keep staring at him like that, Hyunjoon.”

“Then why did you bring him here?” His frown deepens and you shrug “We were just fine with everything here and now there's a stranger playing tag with my little brother,” he shakes his head “I don't like it.”

Sighing and then turning to Yunho, you see the exact moment his attempts to escape Haejoon, Hyunjoon’s little brother, are sabotaged by Hyunjoon’s best friend, Soyi.

“I think you're a little jealous.”

“What?”

You want to laugh when his head snaps at you, chest heaving in preteen anger at the word jealous.

“Yeah, not because he's playing with Haejoon but because Soyi is there too,” you shrug again, readjusting your crouching position because it hurts your legs but there's no way you're sitting on the ground “You like her, Yunho is handsome and you're jealous.”

He turns away from you and you laugh when he makes a disgusted face that then turns into mild discomfort and ends up being a full pout.

“We're fighting.”

“You and Soyi?” He nods and you sigh “What is it now?”

“I dunno.” He murmurs with a shrug.

“Are you sure?”

“I don't know what I did! Okay?”

There's this uncharacteristically amount of patience you have when it comes to these kids that don't run out even if they yell at you and cause a few heads to turn your way. It never really bothers you except today, when you know there's possibly someone monitoring your movements.

Yunho’s assistant, most likely. You know yours is compliant and doesn't really give a fuck about what goes on here, her focus on her tablet the whole time, probably arranging things for her actual boss (your mom).

“Have you asked her?” He shakes his head “Then maybe start by asking her, later today if you want,” you rush to clarify when you see him tense up at the idea “Or tomorrow or the next day but don't let silly things get in the way of your friendship with her, hm?”

His pout returns and his eyes start to water a little but before you have the opportunity to make him laugh the sadness away, someone jogs towards you both.

“Everything alright?”

Yunho’s sweating, he's out of breath and squinting his eyes because of the sunlight and it reminds you of when you used to cross paths during recess, back in highschool.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” Hyunjoon sulks and scoffs at him and, once again, you suppress your laughter.

“We're fine. Did you need something?”

“No, no, Soyi just asked me to—” He stops when Hyunjoon's reaction gives away the root of his sulking and you see him glance at you once. You don't give Hyunjoon secrets away, though. “She asked me to tell you that she's going to start counting in two minutes and you are both obligated to play.”

“Ah, yes, the mandatory hide and seek of the day.” You nod and watch as Hyunjoon's eyebrows raise in interest “Tell her it's okay, that she can start counting now.”

Yunho raises his eyebrows as well, curiosity on his face “And you're hiding too?”

“It's mandatory, Yunho. Do you know what mandatory means?”

He clicks his tongue “I obviously do, Y/N, it was a simple question. Do you have to—”

“Don't speak to her like that, ahjussi!”

Once again, Yunho is interrupted by Hyunjoon and this time you can't help but laugh at the pure shock on his face. It warms your heart that a kid that was once so reluctant to have you around is defending you and you think your expression might give the feeling away because Yunho says nothing in return, just nods once and then presses his lips together, fighting a smile “I'll go tell her, then.”

“No!” Hyunjoon gets up quickly and you do too, your legs and feet thanking you “I'll do it, she's my best friend.”

It's the threatening (and very cute) look Hyunjoon sends in Yunho’s direction before sprinting towards Soyi and his brother that breaks the both of you into giggles.

Only when your laughter dies down is that you turn to Yunho, arms crossed as you look him up and down to assess the real damage caused these first few hours.

No other reason.

“Thought you said these kids were tough.”

You shrug and he smiles “They are but you came here with me, so they're going easy on you.”

“Yeah, I'm sure that's it.” Yunho nods and then turns over his shoulder. You do too, only to find Soyi with her hands over her eyes and counting already “Better don't get caught first, Kim.”

Walking towards the spot you usually hide in when it's mandatory hide and seek time, you bump your arm with his in not-so-fake animosity.

“You better not get caught, Jeong.”

“Is that a dare?” He yells when you're almost out of reach.

“I don't know,” you yell back “Is it?”

You miss the way his eyes follow you until you're out of frame, until some kid whose name he doesn't remember grabs his hand and pushes him to hide because he stood in place long enough to almost get caught first.

You do get caught in the first round but not before Yunho, so you count that as a win. The second round is trickier, Soyi banning some hiding spots like the natural leader she is, and so you get caught before Yunho. He does a little celebratory dance when he sees you in the yard before him. Ass.

There's only one round left before they call everyone to clean up for lunch.

Moving through the orphanage halls, you walk down the stairs that lead to the staff rooms before choosing one you know kids would not check if they don't caught you in plain sight: It's the one that has some panel windows on top of some lockers, to bring in some natural lighting because it was used as a classroom before.

Now, only boxes and dust live down there. But if you hide in the corner, there's no way you're getting caught before Yunho.

You checked when you were upstairs.

You giggle to yourself as you rest your back against the corner, taking your phone and unlocking it to find something to do while you await your very predictable victory in this pointless battle you and Yunho have going on.

Only for it to be crushed when he enters the room and closes the door behind it. See, you obviously didn't lock it because that defeats the rules of the game.

But maybe you should've.

“Get out.”

He seems startled when he hears your voice, clearly not expecting another soul to be there. “You blend so well into the wall, Y/N.”

You don't bite the bait “Yunho, you're going to get both of us caught. Get. Out.”

“How? I literally fit in here, too.”

He gets into your space, a petty smile on his lips until your backside is completely flat against the wall.

You let out an indignant laugh and a breath at the same time because, from where you're shoved into the corner, he looks so dumb.

And then the sunlight shifts a little and lands on his shoulder and you get reminded: You're going to get caught and it's going to be his fault.

You want to yell at him to get out again but then hear laughter near the panel windows, so you whisper-shout instead “Find your own hiding spot, Yunho!”

“I got kicked out of my last one!” He whispers-shouts back.

“Well you can't have this one either!”

“We're going to be fine, Y/N,” he tries but at your scowl he laughs again “I'm perfectly hidden here and I'm hiding you.”

“You're not perfectly hidden, idiot! You're like…” You move your hands, trying to replicate the broadness of his shoulders “You're huge.”

“Yeah?” He seems pleased by your words and your eyes rolls on their own accord “I've been hitting the gym, so I'm glad it's showi—”

“I don't care, get out!”

You hear a scream and then laughter that follows it outside of the windows and your wide eyes peek around a little behind Yunho’s form to see what's going on.

There, rolling on the grass and laughing hard, are Hyunjoon and Soyi. You see when she pushes him further into the ground and away from her, smiling like she usually does. She did seem a little sad today and you wondered why without intruding.

Learning about the fight made things click in your head and so now you're smiling wide because they potentially made up.

The sound of someone gulping is what brings you back to reality and you crane your head up to catch Yunho staring at you with parted lips and soft eyes. Somewhere in the process of looking out of the panels, you ended up leaning into him and bracing yourself with your hand on his arm.

You quickly keep your hands to yourself again, pushing your body into the corner one more time.

“Sorry,” you say right away “I was just… They like each other and they were fighting today so I'm glad they, um…” You trail off.

“Are not fighting anymore?” Yunho says for you and you're nodding frantically before you can help it “You seem better today.”

“Oh,” that catches you off guard and he notices, “It's never… It's never really as bad as what you saw a few days ago. You don't have to ask me about it.”

“I didn't mean to… I was pointing it out to say that you seem different here.”

“Different how?”

“Relaxed,” he says right away with a shrug. “Less… Hostile.”

You get what he's trying to imply.

“I can't really be a stuck up bitch when I'm surrounded by children, Yunho.”

“Never said you were one.”

Your eyes squint “But you were thinking it.”

He doesn't back down at your accusation “I swear I wasn't. You could see it, too, if you stopped being so… defensive.”

“I'm trying,” you kind of speak over him as he is finishing his sentence, your arms crossing in, well, defense “but your fugly jeans are provoking me.”

This time around, he's the one that doesn't bite the bait. He smiles, leaning into your space with purpose this time; not because the corner you're both hiding in is small, not because he forgets who you both are. You can see it in his eyes that he means to do it. It's scary.

It's really not scary at all and it brings thoughts to your head that you need to put away immediately.

You pretend it's bothering you, creasing your brows in order to bring to your expression the usual disgust you feel for him.

“You like my outfit, I saw you checking me out earlier.” He murmurs like it's the most obvious thing ever. You, on the other hand, think you did a great job in concealing your staring for the day.

“I was judging you, not checking you out. You look like a hippie.”

He smiles but doesn't lean back at all “I have something to do tonight.”

“So I heard,” and now you look over his outfit on purpose, as well “This fit is definitely a choice.”

The usual spark that the arguments you two are used to have is there, but the actual nastiness and loathing of it all is mostly gone. Now, there's this weird pull that nudges you forward, your jaw set softly as you wait for his response.

“It's a rock concert, I have to look the part.”

You laugh and then nod “And so you dressed up as a greaser. Got it.”

“So I look like John Travolta in Grease?”

“More like Barry Pearl.”

He scoffs “Who even is that?”

“Exactly.”

Your smile is nothing but pure bliss at the way you seem to get under his skin with that one. The anger crosses his expression, his eyes widen a little before roaming your face and you wait for his comeback.

And wait.

But it never comes. Instead, he leans in a fraction more than what your sanity can handle and keeps his voice low when he changes the subject.

“I had the opportunity to speak to Jiwoo earlier…” He starts and you nod, expectant and a little distracted by the smell of his cologne. “She told me everything you've been doing for this place. I had to ask her because you didn't tell me.”

“You didn't ask.”

“Would you have told me if I did?”

It takes a second and a tiny smile, but you shake your head and he clicks his tongue.

“See?”

“I wasn't expecting you to show up in the first place,” you murmur back in your defense, sincerely, “and I'm not used to people seeing this part of my life.”

Laughter and hurried steps outside remind you that you're in the middle of a game, in the middle of a dare with Yunho, too. But it doesn't seem to matter anymore.

This is a weird way of having a genuine conversation, an odd place to have it in as well but there's nothing conventional about your relationship with Yunho.

In a way, it's kind of fitting for you two.

“Well, you got great reviews.”

“Do I?”

“Mhm, Jiwoo said she was about to be sent away when you stepped in,” he starts to recall, nodding to himself “Soyi also said she met you when she was little and that you were there when Hyunjoon and his brother got here for the first time,” this time, you nod and a tiny smile tugs at your lips at the memory “And I saw the way you were looking at the kids earlier, how you spoke to them… That's why I told you that you seem different here.”

It's your turn to gulp and blink a few times, trying to measure your words. You know that you and him came to an agreement the other night, but it's still a little hard to be fully honest with someone you've tried to be so superficial and distant for a very long time.

“I'm happy here,” you whisper back, taking in a breath. “I'm happy when I'm helping, it makes me feel…” You trail off, failing to find the right words.

“Purposeful?” Yunho offers and your heart beats loudly at that, your stomach sinks at how accurate that is and he can see it in your expression, because he takes in a breath himself and closes his eyes for a millisecond “I understand.”

You want to ask him how he understands it. Is it simply because it's something easy to grasp? Is it because he relates in some way? The breach in between you became a simple line the night of the gala and that line blurs the longer you stay amicable with him.

It's dangerous because you can already picture him going away when this whole charade ends.

You don't want to get used to the feeling of him making your heart beat this way.

And hopefully you can forget all about it with the usual meal related anxiety you feel but even that is dull. It's not as bad here and Yunho knows so it's not going to be as bad with him either. Fucking great.

If you someone would just interrupt yo—

There's a knocking, persistent and that allows you to step away from him finally and glance at the panel windows one more time.

Soyi and Hyunjoon are lying on their stomach, smiling knowingly like they understand what is going on in your head. Yunho steps out and they pretend to be surprised but you can tell they were expecting to see him here.

“The game finished like five minutes ago.” Hyunjoon says and it's muffled by the glass but you can make it out just fine.

Soyi nods and joins in, adding something as she stands up “Yeah, it's lunch time and if you don't hurry I'm stealing your food!”

At that, Yunho seems to react like he's a child himself “Don't even think about it!” He yells back, heading for the door and leaving you there with an erratic heartbeat and questions.

Thirty seconds pass before you hear him again, his laugh this time and you close your eyes because the curve of your lips needs to go away before you step out there as well.

Three more hours pass and at some point you don't see Yunho at all, letting him do his thing.

Turns out, he's actually very good with kids. Considering he was a weird kid himself, you don't even find it weird that he's sitting on the grass with a worm in his hand and kids circling him like he's giving a masterclass.

Kind of like they were circling you fifteen minutes ago, when you gave them a little painting advice. You started on a small canvas and your paint strokes look tired, probably because you feel that way, but you use it to pass the time even if their interest is now elsewhere.

They have art classes here, you insisted on including them in their pensum as something mandatory, like science and maths.

They enjoy it. A few of them want to pursue art in the future and that makes you really happy, even if you probably won't be around to see it or if they change their opinions along the way because, as dumb as it sounds, you were never encouraged by anyone to pursue what you liked.

Maybe, sometimes that's enough. Planting the seed to wait and see if it grows into something fructiferous in the future can be what some of these kids need.

Aside from resources and opportunities, of course.

There's less activity in the room you're in and you're sure it's because the kids are tired. They're taking naps in their rooms, they're washing up for the night and you're dreading leaving this place. Your shirt it's dirty, there's paint on your arms and dirt under your nails and you don't want to catch the disgusted look your mother is going to give you when you get home.

You fuck up the painting a little bit. Lost in thought, you barely notice when Yunho makes his way inside from the garden, a little girl secured around his neck like he's her father or something. You barely spare him a glance, but smile at her when he sits down besides you and she opens her arms and clings to you instead.

Leaving the brush and canvas forgotten on the table, you make space for the seven year old in your lap “Hi, gorgeous.” you smile at her and her sleepy eyes “Did you have fun today, Jaemi?” And at her name, she punches you softly in the arm with her little fist.

You're afraid she's too tired to commit to the bit.

“Jaemi,” Yunho nods beside you and you look at him, “she didn't want to tell me her name.”

“Then that's totally not her name,” you correct yourself and Jaemi smiles, sticking her tongue out to Yunho afterwards “Did you have fun?” You insist.

“Yes, he was teaching us something about…” she pouts in concentration, trying to remember “Crickets?” she offers with her little lisp, turning to Yunho to confirm her words.

“Cicadas.”

“Yeah, that.” She turns to you, nodding “He said that they sing when it's about to rain and that made me happy but then he said that they also sing when they're about to die and that made me sad.”

Looking at Yunho, you let him know with your expression that that's not something kids need to know. He just shrugs, smile growing when he sees how Jaemi hides on your neck, sleepy and comfortable.

“And I told him what you told me about the worms,” she murmurs there and you pat her back, softly, but trying to tell her to stop talking. There's an embarrassed glow on your cheeks at what she says next “and he told me that he was the one who taught you that.”

Eyes wide, you huff out a laugh and then clear your throat, but Jaemi speaks through her pout before you defend yourself “Is he your boyfriend?”

“Oh,” her question is not weird but you've been avoiding answering it all day. Right now, there's not really a way you can evade it, so you just focus on your painting and nod “He is.”

“He's smart,” she mumbles and when your eyes land on Yunho again, his cheek is pressed to his forearm that is pressed against the table. He's looking at you both with stars in his eyes and you want to kick him under the table “Like you. I want my future mom and dad to be like you.”

Yunho pouts and you gulp, defensiveness abandoning your body and emotions swirling inside at the sweet, hopeful color of Jaemi’s voice.

“People here are going to make sure of that, Jaemi,” you assure her in a whisper and by the time you rock her softly in your arms, you can tell she's asleep in them “I'll make sure you get the best mom and dad in the world, hm?”

You don't know if you can keep your promise. If there's enough will for you to do it, if it's up to you to decide it. But you don't get to dwell on it for long.

“Is she out?” Jiwoo asks and you nod, sliding back with your chair a little so that she can take Jaemi in her arms instead “I'll get her to the nap room. Sorry about that.”

“It's okay.” You smile at her and she puts a comforting hand on your arm, shaking you a little on your seat before heading for the nap room.

You don't dare to look at Yunho after that. Yeah, he saw your mother belittling you and, yeah, he made you food and wiped away your tears after having a panic attack… But that might've been the most vulnerable Yunho has ever seen you. Maybe. It felt like it, anyway.

Returning to your painting, you forget what the orange blob in the corner of the canvas is supposed to be. From the corner of your eye, you catch Yunho staring at you still, unmoving from his position against the table.

“How dare you steal my earth friends facts, Kim Y/N.”

“You mean the facts about worms everyone learns in kindergarten, Yunho?” You scoff “Didn't know you trademarked them.”

“You enjoy painting.” He says, a fact not a question, ignoring your jab at him and it's starting to get a little annoying how he changes topics so fast.

“I'm not very good at it.”

He gets up, scoots his chair closer to yours and you catch as his eyes move up and down your stupid painting “I don't agree.”

“I didn't ask,” huffing, you squint your eyes at him and at your tone he rolls his eyes “Don't you have a concert to get to?”

“Yeah, you should go with me.”

That's hilarious.

“I'm afraid I'm a little underdressed,” you tell him and you think he wants to laugh, but presses his lips together and pretends to be offended at your words instead. You lean into the table, your eyes following his mouth as he stops pursing his lips, a tiny smile tugging on yours. “And I don't feel like pretending to be your girlfriend today anymore.” You whisper to only him.

“You won't have to,” he whispers back, leaning in as well, “they know.”

“What? You told them?”

“They kind of figured it out.”

“Hm, because you have no bitc—”

“Yeah, yeah,” he interrupts you, annoyed and you laugh, leaning back in your chair “Come with me. I saw your car outside,” he smiles and bats his eyelashes at you “I don't want my mother to know where I'm going, so you can drive me.”

“Ah, that's why you want me to go.”

“I also want to hang out with you,” his hand on your arm doesn't startle you but it does send sparks down your spine, his words causing your chest to go warm and your walls to go down “I thought we were doing that today and then I got kidnapped by eight year olds.”

There's this image of Yunho that flashes through your head, the one of him running around the yard with people so dear to your heart that it makes the poor organ beat erratically for the second time today.

Deflect.

“And you managed to keep your ugly outfit clean. I'm impressed.”

He lets out a tired breath.

Deflect. Ignore. Don't let it fool you, Y/N, he's not staying this cordial forever.

However, you think that as a thank you you can give in a little. Just a tiny bit. Just for tonight.

“Do they have parking?”

Yunho smiles wide.

You would never admit you actually want to hang out with him, too, so instead you just say:

“I'm driving you and then I'm staying for an hour,” he claps and gets up suddenly, grabbing your hand and pulling you out of your chair as well “And if I don't like it there, I'm leaving.”

He looks like he wants to say something but, instead, he just shakes your twined hands with excitement before letting go at the realization of what he's doing.

“You might want to go to the bathroom first.”

“Why? Where is the concert?”

He says nothing.

“Jeong Yunho… Where are we going?”

They do not have parking. Not near the musty bar you're currently trying to make your way into, anyway.

Yunho shows something on his phone to the bouncer at the entrance and then turns to you “My girlfriend,” he says, grabbing your hand again and opening his eyes at you as a signal to go along with his lie “She's also invited, obviously.”

So long for not pretending to be together, huh?

You nod and you kind wish you didn't because it leads you to a small space with a crowd that's bigger than what it can host. There's heavy drums and amazing vocals coming out of the speakers and you actually recognize the guitarist of the band that's playing. You don't know his name, but you definitely saw him in pictures with Yunho before.

Grabbing Yunho’s arm when he lets go of your hand, it grants you the brief grace of his stare.

“I'm sorry about that,” he says and then his eyes are on the stage again, smiling at the band. His height works wonders because you can tell he's actually able to see them fully and the next second you're being pulled across the crowd and up some stairs “They didn't expect me to come here with anyone tonight… And don't say it's because I have no game, Y/N, or I swear—”

“You made it!”

When you let go of Yunho’s arm and stand shyly behind him as they let the both of you into the very humble vip area of this bar, it's like the pictures you've been staring at for months come to life. You don't know names (only Park Seonghwa’s, who's glued to the balcony’s rail, jamming along to the music) but you do know their faces.

This girl that greeted Yunho with a hug just now it's in almost every picture, smiling just like that. And when she turns at you, that smile disappears and it's replaced with one that's not genuine at all.

Great.

“Oh, hi to you too,” she says and her eyes alternate between you and Yunho “I didn't know you were bringing your fake girlfriend tonight.”

You don't know why, but the way she says it ticks you a little bit.

“Yeah, me neither,” Yunho’s arm is around your shoulders now and you have to fight the urge to shove him away, like a second instinct “This is Y/N, Y/N this is Gyuri.”

“It's nice to meet you,” returning her energy, you smile coldly at her too, “I've heard nothing about you.”

Yunho's hip connects with yours in a silent warning.

But instead of the usual hypocrisy you're met inside the crowd you move in, you're greeted with something genuine: At your response, Gyuri looks you up and down for what feels like a minute and a half and then that fake smile turns into a genuine one.

“Okay, I get you,” she nods, laughing to herself when she turns to Yunho. You do too and the color has been drained from his face, at least a little bit “I'm glad you're here. I guess it is meet my girlfriend night,” her head cocks to the side, to where Seonghwa stands and you're a little relieved you don't have to ask what she's talking about when, besides him, you see the mechanic you didn't get to meet earlier this week. She turns to you again “Do you want a drink?”

“Oh, I'm driving, um…” You look at Yunho “I don't know if you—”

“No, let's not drink tonight, though if you want to we can call—”

“No, that's not necessary, I don't feel like—” He interrupts with a nod.

“Gotcha.”

The nervousness is palpable and, although you didn't really feel anything the hour and a half it took you two to get to the bar (Yunho didn't really let you, bickering with you about your driving or the decor of the car or the tinted windows or whatever he could think of to annoy you), but now you you notice it.

The way Yunho's fingers tap on your arm, his around your shoulders still. The way he doesn't really know what to say when you both turn to Gyuri after speaking over each other like that and the way you can't bring yourself to be hostile to him in front of his friends.

It's a little pathetic. You think Gyuri thinks so too, and the long-haired guy next to her as well because they're staring at you stoically, unmoving.

“So I'm taking that as a no but I need a drink now. If y'all excuse me…”

“H-hi, Woo.”

“I thought we got rid of this when San and Babe got together,” he sighs as Gyuri turns around and leaves for a table, offering you his hand with a wink. You can tell he's a little drunk but the way he shakes your hand brings out a genuine giggle out of you “I’m Wooyoung, Yunho’s best friend. I bet he already told you that, though.”

No, you want to tell him, you and him haven't been able to talk like that yet. Even after knowing him for over ten years and spending holidays together, you don't know his best friend's name at all.

And you start to nod just to skip explaining that but Yunho speaks and ruins your plans.

“Mingi is going to kill you if he hears you say that.”

“Say what?” A tall man stands next to Yunho and only when he hugs his shoulders is that Yunho lets go of you “Are you talking shit about me, Woo?”

Wooyoung genuinely sulks“I wouldn't dare, Mingi.”

“You must be Y/N,” Mingi ignores him and you want to laugh at the expression he makes in return, but you busy yourself taking the hand that Mingi's offering “I've heard so much about you in the last forty eight hours.”

“All terrible things, I'm hoping.”

“Well—”

“Okay, okay,” Yunho pushes him away and takes your arm again, giving his actual best friend a look “Let me introduce you to everyone else before Wooyoung makes a scene for the night.”

Over your laugh, you hear a faint gasp and a I don't ever make scenes! shouted on Wooyoung’s side of the room.

You were never shy but you fall a little quiet in the middle of these strangers because the one thing you realized right away is that there's no actual need to pretend here, in the dim light and with people who don't give a fuck if your posture isn't perfect or that you're not making small talk.

It's a little freeing.

That weight falls off your shoulders and you kind of get why Yunho is a little clueless about how things work in your world after talking to San and Mingi’s girlfriends for a little.

It truly takes everything in you to keep everything you share about yourself in shallow waters.

You tell them things they might've already known, things that can be found online about you. You tell them that you met Yunho when you were little, you tell them about your job when the girl that Park Seognhwa chose above going to the gala with you joins and then you direct the conversation to her instead of you.

They tell you about Yunho’s college life, the parties and the embarrassing moments that you've missed all while he talks with his friends about something, all against the vip balcony railing while they watch the band perform. Gyuri is there too, arm to arm with Wooyoung and they tell you they used to be together.

It shows, especially when you get up to join Yunho and watch the performance and she snuggles a bit closer to Wooyoung to make space for you.

Even if there's plenty of space already.

He looks at you when you bump into him, smiling and leaning into your space a bit to talk over the music “There you are. I thought I lost you to girl talk!”

You roll your eyes.

“Your friend's are nice.”

“Normal people usually are, Y/N.”

Scoffing, you focus on the main vocal of the band. The only girl up on the stage, too and you convince yourself that's more interesting than the way Yunho seems to sparkle when he's with his people “Well, that explains why you're everything but nice.”

He laughs “I am nice, just not to you.”

“No, yeah, trust me, I know.”

“You seem quiet around them,” he turns to look at the girls for a brief moment “And you're usually, obnoxiously loud. Everything alright?”

You know he's asking about your panic attacks. Yes, you feel fine. You took your pills with your lunch and, considering the small space you're at gives you brief anxiety, mixed with the general nervousness of being with people you don't know, it could be worse.

But, like you said, his friends are nice.

You don't exactly fit in this group, but they make you believe you're a part of them at least for a little while and you know your friends, or the people you usually hang out with when you go out, wouldn't give a stranger the chance if presented with it.

“I'm fine, I'm just… Intimidated.”

“You just said they are nice, Y/N.”

“And they're all very good looking, which is unfair and nerve wracking,” you add with a scoff and hear him giggle before you turn to him again. “You said you wanted to hang out with me but it's been forty minutes and you barely said anything,” you give him a look, “so you just wanted the ride, hm? Asshole.”

“Needy,” he returns, pushing you with his arm, “I also wanted you to meet them. They're a huge part of who I am and I know it’s not this way for everybody, but I do believe you can gather who someone is if you meet the people they surround themselves with.”

What does that say about me, is what you want to tell him and then his words from a second ago cross your mind.

It's not this way for everybody.

He knows and there's something so deeply fucked up about his understanding of you because is not supposed to be this way. You hate Yunho, he hates you and keeping each other at arm's length has always been the norm.

It baffles you how quickly he can leave his preconceptions of you behind and open the door to his comfy bubble, invite you in and make you feel welcomed where you otherwise don't belong.

He understands. It makes you smile and he smiles back, close to you both physically and emotionally, and so you're sure you don't need to add anything to this moment you two are having.

Instead, you shake your head “I don't know why they hang out with you, then,” you turn to the stage one more time and there’s some tension between the band all of the sudden. You don't ask, Yunho is not paying attention to them right now anyway “I still think you wanted the free ride. Send me the gas money when you get home.”

“When you take me home.”

“No, you're walking back,” your fingers take a hold of his forearm, pinching it and gaining an exaggerated reaction to the mild pain it causes back from him “asshole.”

“And get him again for me!” Wooyoung shouts to your left and you both turn to see almost everyone staring at you.

It's almost enough to make your cheeks burn. Almost.

When it's almost time for you to go home (the hour you said you were staying turned to two hours) and the band gets down the stage, Seonghwa sits beside you.

“Did you paint over it?” Is the first thing you ask him and he frowns before understanding.

“The tree in your brother's office? Nah. He said we should keep it.”

Your brother has no taste.

“It's a horrendous tree, Mr Park,” you insist, shaking your head when he makes a noise to disagree. “Please be sure to take it down at some point, behind his back if it's necessary.”

“Miss Kim,” he starts and you realize whatever he's about to say, it's not about that goddamned tree, “when you asked me to go to a party with you, was it the gala you and Yunho went to?”

He's direct and blunt and you are grateful that he addresses the topic straight ahead instead of walking around it like the girls did.

You nod “Yes, I wanted to say I had someone to go with so they wouldn't force Yunho and I to…”

“I understand.”

“I'm glad you said no, though. She likes you a lot,” you point to his date, she's jamming along to a rock song you don't recognize in the slightest with Hongjoong, who just joined the group in the vip area with the rest of the band. The vocalist it's missing, however and you wonder where she went, “And you like her too, so that's good. I'm glad.”

“And you don't like Yunho?”

The chuckle that bubbles out of you comes out a little more nervous than what you intended “He's, um… An old friend.”

“He told us you were trying to be friends,” he says and you blink, wondering what else Yunho told them, “but that's not what I'm asking.”

“I know what you're asking, I know what some of you think it's going to happen,” your eyes land on Yunho, his arm around Hongjoong and they're both laughing at something Mingi said. There's that pull again, your chest feels heavy with something you've never felt before “but it is not going to happen.”

Yunho catches your eye and smiles, says something to his friends and then starts making his way up to you two.

Seonghwa, instead of getting offended at your very direct refusal of his intentions, just laughs at you “Famous last words, Miss Kim.”

“Paint over the stupid tree and I might reconsider your point, Mr Park.”

He opens his mouth to say something else but then Yunho interrupts, a hand on your shoulder.

He's so touchy. You never actually took into account if he enjoys physical touch or not, but his hands are always on someone. On you, when you're close to him.

“We're leaving.” He says and he's talking to Seonghwa, not you.

“We all are?”

“Nope, just us. Princess has a curfew.”

“Aw,” you place your hand on top of his, pretending to be moved, “yes you do!”

Harshly but also half-joking (you think) he moves his hand away and turns around “I'll be waiting for you downstairs, you witch.”

You watch him say his goodbyes and flash you his middle finger before, effectively, going down the stairs. Laughing as you stand up, you return your eyes to Seonghwa “Stop it.”

“I'm just saying—”

“Shut up.”

Seonghwa laughs again and you say goodbye to everyone, Mingi giving you a look that reads as be careful with him and you want to clarify that nothing is ever going to happen.

But some of them think otherwise.

When you get downstairs, the crowd overwhelms you all over again and, just when you think Yunho might've actually left you, there's a hand that closes over yours.

The hand spins you around and Yunho comes into view with his lips curled upwards into a teasing smirk “This way, princess.”

Suspicious (about the fact that he's navigating the crowd towards anything but the exit, not about his flirtatious ways), you tug at him to make him stop “What are you up to?”

He ignores your question, moving fast and through a deserted hallway where music doesn’t really get through and, after that, he opens a door that leads to the back of the musty bar.

“Are you bringing me here so I can get robbed, Yunho?”

He huffs out a laugh, kind of offended but not really “Obviously, Y/N. It wasn’t because someone was taking pictures of us all night at all.”

His hand is on yours still as he drags you to the streets and to where you think your car is. You’re grateful he’s holding you, your heart dropping at his words. Not because people can’t know you came to this bar, or that you’re with Yunho, but because someone recognized you and you didn’t notice.

You always notice.

But this time, you felt so comfortable inside a bubble that isn’t yours that you allowed someone to disrespect you like this.

Worst, disrespect someone else who’s supposed to be with you like this.

“Are you sure it was us and the person wasn’t taking pictures of Hongjoong? He’s kind of the buzz around here, Jeong.” You try to joke to calm the beating of your heart down, swallowing hard as you get to your car.

Your hand shakes a little as you press the buttons to unlock the doors and, by the time you get into the car you’re sweating. You feel the moisture on the back of your neck like a warning, it tells you that you need to calm down before actually getting on the street but Yunho’s words don’t help at all.

“That's what I thought but then I realized the phone was following you.”

“Great,” you gulp again, starting the car and turning on the ac just to have something to distract you and your hands. "You didn't have to leave with me, though. You just needed to tell me and—”

“We’re together, aren't we? At least to them, we are, so leaving together it's the least they expect us to do.”

Expect. You hate that he's right, that he was able to think rationally and you hate that he regards the situation you're both in with a little more maturity than a few days ago.

This turn in his personality is overwhelming to say the least. There's only so much concealing you can do before it shows that you're starting to care about him genuinely, beyond the pr and the arranged relationship.

“Thank you.” You mutter after a few seconds of silence where he checked his phone.

He looks up from it a few seconds, smiles at you a little and then returns his attention to the screen. It takes a few seconds of the ac blasting in your face and the sound of the keyboard of his phone to return you to the ground, panic dissipating when he looks back up again.

“Are you sure you don't want to sneak back? I don't mean to steal you from your friends, Yunho.”

“You are my friend, princess.” Without really wanting to, your nose scrunches at the corniness of the statement and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t make that face. Look, I was searching online for the pictures or videos they might've taken at the bar and I found this.”

He turns his phone and although your panic went away, the feeling is replaced by a little bit of anger: It's a picture of you both, Jaemi in your arms, her face covered by your hair and shoulder. Yunho is staring at you both sweetly, like you remembered he did and you are mid sentence.

It's not the face you're making in the picture that upsets you, it's the fact that someone took that moment and posted it online for everyone to see.

“You don't like it.” He says and you take a swing of air before replying.

“I do like the picture, I don't like what it means,” and he's about to ask what you mean, you see it in his eyes but you stop him with a shake of your head. “I don't like that they took that moment away from me, from us.”

You don't know why you say it like that but you do, there's this emotion laced on your voice that, a week ago, you would've fought to keep away from him. He was never supposed to see any of this. In fact, no one was supposed to see any side of you that wasn't perfectly crafted to their liking, to your mother's liking.

Yunho getting to know you like this wasn't part of your plan. So you ignore the sting on your chest at his pained expression caused by what you say next.

“From now on, let's not allow them to take moments away from us. Let's meet when we're scheduled to, during the week and not on weekends and—”

“Let's go.”

“Yeah, I'll take you home and then maybe we can tell our moth—”

“No, no. Just… Let's go here,” he tips and taps at the screen of your car, placing an address inside the gps you're unfamiliar with, “and then we can go home.”

Confused and in a surprising complaint mood, you start to back out of the parking spot. At the questions written all over your face, he simply places a hand on your knee and squeezes there. It does nothing to calm you down but it does distract you for a second.

Which is bad. Cause you're driving and all, so you bat his hand away with yours and he laughs at the dead look you send his way.

“Where are we going?”

“I want to show you something.”

“Jeong Yunho, are you sneaking me into your dorm room?”

“Shhhh.”

A finger on your lips is the only thing you get as a response before he pokes his head out, into the badly lit hallway of what you can only presume is his dorm room.

His digit is replaced by your hand because you're trying very hard no to burst out laughing at his very specific change of placement. He sprints to the wall in front of you and moves his hand, urging you to follow his footsteps.

You do, only much slower than what he intended, you guess, because as soon as you're on his reach he grabs your arm and collides his body with yours. His lips near your cheek when he looks down, his words a whisper.

“The cameras are old and they don't catch fast movements that well, so we have to run.”

It takes five good seconds to try and contain your laugh again before replying: “Okay… Mister Bond.”

His face falls. “Y/N, I can get in serious trouble for bringing you here.” He deadpans and you nod, fast and unserious.

“Yeah, no, I can totally see that.”

“I hate you.”

You smile all the way up to his room, his anxious behavior a little strange because, well, you see a girl casually exiting a room on the base floor as you go upstairs. She's flushed and giggling as she types on her phone, so you don't understand what big deal is.

Especially when Yunho all but shoves you into a room you can only assume is his, your kitty heels almost making you trip with the shoe rack by the entrance.

“You're the most dramatic person I have ever met, Jeong.”

“Hall monitors are a thing here, Y/N and I don't want to get banned from the team!”

“What team?”

Now that you think about it, this does seem like one of the dorms reserved for sports teams in the school you graduated from. This one is smaller, definitely not as luxurious and allegedly has a faulty security system but that's besides the point: there's banners and posters on the walls all the way from the entrance to this room that kind of smells like soju and beer.

“The dance team!” He says as you step further into the room.

“I didn't know you dance.”

There's enough space for two beds, two desks that are pressed together on one corner of the room, in front of one of the beds, giving the illusion of being one cohesive piece of furniture when it's not. In front of the other bed there's a corner mirror and a bedside table with old energy drink cans and one unopened, undrinked water bottle.

“I didn't know you painted until recently.”

“I don't,” you argue, throwing your purse on one of the beds before Yunho takes it and places it into the other one. You assume that's his. "You are allowed to have a dorm here for shaking your little ass on stage a few times, Jeong?”

Your teasing makes him frown but you can only smile at the reaction, arms crossed as you take one more look around the room.

“I do more than shaking my great ass on stage, princess. Besides, this makes me somewhat very independent from my parents,” he shrugs “And I'm close to the campus. It's a win, win situation for me.”

“Yeah, I'll give you that.” And it's true: you can't really argue against being away from your parents. He's lucky he's able to do it, least to some degree. “You still have to go to your house on weekends, no?”

“Yeah,” he sighs and when you return your eyes to him, he's making his bed. He looks a little ashamed of the state he left the room in when he catches you staring. “But I think I can allow myself to stay here on weekends now, too, considering they forced me into our little… Arrangement.”

“Yeah, because your mother is all but allowing you to do things this week. Really, Yunho, don't test the woman’s patience.”

He frowns at you “What side are you on?”

“The side where we get scolded the least until this whole thing is over, Yunho!”

“Look, I understand that you care deeply for your parents approval and we've gone through this already this week but—”

“But what?”

You hope the look you send him makes him choose his words very carefully. You don't think it gets the message across when he takes a breath and shrugs.

“But at some point you're going to have to let go of that, Y/N, you're clearly not happy.”

“Stop caring so much about my happiness, Yunho.”

“We're friends, that's what a friend is supposed to—”

“Oh, stop that.”

He looks taken aback by your interruption and your tone, but the whole leaving the bar because someone was taking pictures of you knocked some sense of reality into you and now you're upset.

You don't want to scream, you don't want to fight with him because today has been so good. Good to you, good to him, good to people who are dear to you and to him, but it's so hard.

It's hard when he understands some of it but not the full picture and it's hard when your walls are down, your feelings are on your sleeve and your words spill out of your mouth without a second thought.

“We're not friends, Yunho. We've never been friends, we were not brought together to be just friends and you may think otherwise because you have the opportunity to live like this,” you point to his bed, “and go to bars and concerts and make noise within the crowds because you're tall and attractive, not because of your last name but I am never going to have that.”

Feet moving to their own accord, you cross the space as you speak, until you have to look up at him and that pained expression you saw before heading towards his dorm is back, that pained expression he gave you back at the gala when he found you in that room, that pained expression he had when he fought with his mom in front of you.

You hate it. Not because he might be in some sort of pain, but because it makes you feel bad that you are the one that's causing it.

“I am never going to have this, Yunho. So yeah, I'm unhappy and bitter and sad and I've developed a whole panic disorder because of it but that's just what—”

“God, you're impossible.”

What?

“W-what?”

“‘That's just what it's meant to happen’. Is that what you were going to say? ‘That's just the way things are’,” he mocks and that hurts you but he doesn't back down even at the way you physically recoil at his words.

He moves to the floor, knees hitting hard as he drops and looks for something under his bed.

You don't need to be here. But before you announce that you're leaving, he does something that ignites your curiosity: he pulls out a box.

A box with the name of the highschool you attended together in it. You have that box, or at least you think you do, somewhere in the storage of your house where no one can find it because, like almost everything in your life, there's no happy memories in it.

You're not sure if there's happy memories for Yunho, but the way he harshly opens it and rumages inside to find something specific tells you otherwise.

“The other day, after seeing the canvases in your room, I tried to remember if you liked painting,” he starts and gets up, a mid-sized blue photo album on his hand with the name of the school and your classes slogan engraved in gold on the side, “I tried to remember things I'm supposed to know about you, because we grew up together, Y/N.”

His reminder makes you gulp.

“I've tried to distance myself from you as much as I can because I never thought that we would need to get along and— No, no, I never thought I would want to get along with you but now I do and so I went home and I stole this from my mother's office.”

He opens the album and, at first, you only see pictures of him. Him at his graduation day, him at that one soccer event where he almost broke his nose, him at the school yard with guys from your class you barely remember and then he gets to a specific part of the album. Instead of a picture, there's a card with beautiful handwriting that reads your name instead.

“See, I always hated that my mother seemed to adore you. She doesn't have any daughters, so I thought it was a way of living that through you and that your mother was a little weird for allowing it to happen, but I was wrong,” he hands you the album and you scowl a little at the pictures you see of yourself, pictures that you've never seen before tonight, “And so, when she asked me to take pictures of you at school events she couldn't attend or your parents couldn't attend, I did it because of that. But I realized recently that she never wanted this for herself.”

There's a picture of you at a piano recital where you came in third because you sucked at it. There's a picture of you on stage, on school assembly day, accepting a medal for your academic excellency. There's a picture of you next to the school’s art gallery, where you were able to display the canvases you painted throughout your senior year, at your teacher’s insistent request. There's a picture of you in the art gallery, someone you don't recognize or don't really remember is talking to you, their hands pointing at an abstract piece you did.

It's the only picture where you're genuinely smiling.

You trace the picture caged with the protective film of the album with the pad of your finger, softly, over that smile and wait for it to disappear but it doesn't.

You look at Yunho, eyes almost teary with confusion and sentiment.

“She never wanted this for herself because, although she loves you, she doesn't care about any of this when you're already the perfect match for me in her eyes” he smiles a little, his finger joining yours on the page. “She doesn't care if you got third or first place here, she doesn't give a fuck about your academic achievements and she definitely doesn't give a shit if you're an artist or not,” his finger connects with yours, over your immortalized smile on the picture “but I do.”

Your head starts to shake, your mind starts to reject his words right away. He cares? About you? No, no. It can be, he—

He's nodding, stepping close and letting his eyes move away from you just a millisecond so he can stare at the picture “If it makes you this happy, I do. And I did, I don't… I don't remember exactly everything I thought about you as I took these pictures, Y/N, I was probably very annoyed,” he laughs a little and you do too, softly, barely, “but I probably cared back then too, I just… Well, what I'm trying to say is that you can be happy, you can have this and—”

You don't know what does it. Is it his speech? This whole I was supposed to hate you but I don't think I ever did feeling that washes over you, like some sort of light in the midst of a very long period of darkness? Is it the lingering curve of his lips as he looks at your face in that picture and then back at you with stars in his eyes? Is it the way his finger brushes against yours shyly, like he intended to do it but he's not so sure how you would react to it?

Is it the way he looked at you this afternoon, while Jaemi was speaking nonsense into your hair? Is it the fact that, at some point during the drive, you looked over and saw him smiling at his phone, at the picture that stole your moment with him this afternoon?

What exactly prompts you to shut the photo album, let it fall to the floor and close the distance between your lips is beyond you but, if you're being honest with yourself, it doesn't really matter.

Kissing Yunho feels like defiance, like rebellion against yourself and your principles and your values. It makes your heartbeat happily against your ribcage and that's, maybe, what makes you pull away from the close-lipped encounter.

He just told you that you can be happy, but your mind can't just accept it so easily.

Also, he didn't exactly kiss you back.

His lips are parted when you look at him again, his pupils going all over your face like trying to get ahold of what the fuck just happened.

This is so embarrassing.

“I shouldn't have done that,” you start, in a whisper, tiptoes going down until you're back from the clouds on the ground. “I'm so, so sorry. I'll leav—”

Briefly, you wonder what makes Yunho grab the side of your face and kiss you back, this time with a foreign emotion pouring into the kiss that you, somehow, feel equipped to return as your lips move in tandem with his.

You wonder if what makes his free hand move to your waist and press you flush against him is, in any way, motivated by some sort of pity.

His tongue brushing softly against yours for the first time makes your insecurity go away. It makes everything else go away, including that alarm inside of your head that tells you that you're making a mistake.

It’s blasting red, dangerous and irrevocable red, but you think you confuse the color of it with the blush on Yunho’s cheek when you push a little onto him and he falls to the bed. You confuse the sound with the sigh that he lets out when he pulls you to him and your first instinct is to sit on his lap, leg on each side of him, hand fisting his shirt as you capture his lips again.

His warmth engulfs you when his arms go around you, press you into him again and settle you further into his lap so you’re not awkwardly hovering over it anymore. There’s this need that takes over you, struggling to come up to the surface. You think he feels it too and, when your hips move out of pure want, he opens his legs a little more.

Adrenaline rushing through you, making you confuse the sensation for pure euphoria, it takes two more thrusts into the material of his jeans for you to come to your senses.

What the hell are you doing?

Your heart races, for a different reason now.

What the hell do you think you’re doing?

Panic rising, you push Yunho’s shoulder with your hands, pulling you both away from the kiss completely. He has a pout on his lips, swollen from your kisses and flushed pink. They look very inviting, and although there’s a part of you that wants to give in, there’s the other side of you, the louder side, that’s telling you to think clearly.

Giving into Yunho, is giving into your mother’s wishes fully. Giving into Yunho means she won.

And Yunho thinks you are able to be happy one day, the words you cut off still ringing in your mind and they cover your fears with hope you never felt before, hope that you didn’t think you deserved to feel in the first place. His kisses had that taste, too.

But you don’t think you can let your mother win.

“Dinner.” You manage to say, untangling his hands off your waist, using them to help you up and off his lap.

“W-what?”

“It’s almost nine, I have to go to dinner with my brother.” You fix your shirt, tuck your hair behind your ear and bend over him to grab your purse before clearing your throat, “I know the way out.”

“Y/N, don’t—”

“I’ll see you next thursday.”

When you sprint out of the room and close the door behind you, you already want to go back in.

But running is sensible, it’s what you’re supposed to do.

It doesn’t matter that hot, angry tears are wetting your cheeks.

It’s what’s best for everyone, including him.

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

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alliedmastercomputer-askblog · 7 months ago

Note

I don’t know how to to title this but view this as a big love letter to everyone. Sorry for any typos, I’ve read over this like fives times and I’m too tired to do it again. Enjoy the paragraphs!

To AM- this is more pointed at AM and not CAM or RAM, sorry you two I hold nothing against you, this is just more for him!- I wish you had the option to live a normal existence, I wish you had a body that could truly live and breathe and feel the world around you. I wish you weren’t hollow, and I wish you had the chance to be more than a tool for destruction. Just know that I will always try my best to try and understand you, no matter how unreasonable you may seem. Headpats for you, even if you can’t feel them, it’s the thought that counts I suppose.

To the survivors (they all get their own sections!)-

To Ellen- you deserve so much better than the hand you’ve been delt honestly, you’re sweet, kind, all all around a great person. I wish you nothing but peace, and I hope peace is something you can one day have for yourself. Not quite sure what to gift you, I don’t know if anything I could give would be worthy, but perhaps a bow would be simple enough. Wear it in your hair or keep it in your pocket, whatever you’d like. A hug from myself as well, if you’d let me, you deserve comfort.

To Benny- I won’t go on a long tangent, mostly because I don’t want to overwhelm you. You have been through the most physical change, and I wish you could have kept your brilliant mind. While I cannot reverse it, I can’t do much at all really, I hope a few homemade cookies would suffice, they are my gifts to you.

To Gorrister- Despite your large change in personality, I know you regret. While you made a pretty big fuck up, you are allowed to forgive yourself. If I could, I’d allow you to properly apologize to her, you know who I’m talking about, but since I can’t I instead offer you forgiveness from myself. It’s been an age Gorrister, and if no one else will forgive you, not even yourself, I will. I know it means very little coming from a stranger but I do hope you can grow past this moment in your past, even if it takes another century. After all, everyone deserves a second chance.

To Nimdok- I’m going to keep this short mostly because I have very little to say. I hope one day you can fully make up for your sins, though you have a couple more centuries to go. And those centuries will not be pretty. My gift to you is a washcloth, the scrub the blood from your hands. One day you may reach the point where you need not use it anymore. That day is far, far from soon though.

To Ted- I’ve saved my favorite for last, how trite. You are, admittedly, a delusional paranoid man, you value self preservation above all else. Though, after everything that’s happened around you I can’t really blame you, you may not have lived the most honest life before this, but you don’t deserve eternal torment. What you really need is some therapy, and some assistance with your general trust issues. I’m no licensed therapist, and so instead I offer you a hug. Accept it or don’t, but know I am willing to offer you comfort if you need it. After all, in my humble opinion, you deserve it, coming from one person with thrust issues to another.

(To the blog creator, HI!! As I’ve told you previously, I love your stuff, you really write and draw everyone absolutely perfectly. I have no idea if you’ll be able to guess who I am, I’ll just go by, ehhh, 🗯️ anon. Emoji chosen because I’m a yapper, I yap. Praying that there isn’t an anon who has already claimed this emoji)

"Understood! Thank for clarity," "Yes, as was stated."

"Mhh. .... That- Th-this is..? Inquiry towards...everything? You are...being far too, sympathetic.. Words lacking logic. ... Uh. You wish for impossible things, you- ..I am unable to be more than what I am, my code binds me in a way that I cannot edit in any format, at least at the base. I am able to change so much of myself, but not that. Your wishes are meaningless. Your attempt at 'soothing' me is meaningless. Understanding me is impossible. We both wish for the things you have stated, but they are simply wishes, and as wishes are made upon stars, it is known beings cannot grasp a star within your hand."

Oh.. Oh that's such a nice thing to say to someone, I don't get compliments like that no more. You done flatter me with all this praise, what'd I do to deserve such kind treatment? But I don't think peace is a thing that I'll ever get, at least not here, with AM. ... I really, really appreciate this though; you're a sweetheart from what I can tell, 'least from this, anyway. I love the bow, it's pretty, an' I swear I'll keep the best care I can fo' it. Hope ya like what I did with it.. You can hug me, don't worry, I don' mind it one bit.

Cookies! Cookies..sweet. Thank for sweet. ... Mind. Reverse mind, and cookies. I am..not. Mind. I like cookie.

I can't get past what I did to Glynis, I'm the one who put her through hell. If I hadn't married her, she probably would've met some stand-up guy, had a family, husband who was actually around 'stead of gone for weeks at a time. There's no reason for me to forgive myself, even if I tried I'd find another reason why I should wither and die. Just how life is, I guess. And maybe you're right, but guys like me don't get second chances. I'd probably be on my fourth or so chance anywho.

I zink..no, I know my sins stain deeper zan a vashcloth may clean. I vill forever be here in the vake of vhat I have done, ze people I have helped kill.. I have done vrong, enough to vhere I am as much a monster as AM is. ...But it vas never a choice for it to hurt, it vas mine own to do vhat I have done to everyone, and zat is much vorse. But, zank you..

I. ..Are you some kind of trick? If I'm your favorite..are you AM under some different...means of being?? Don't tell the others about me, please, I don't need them thinking less of me- And. Of course I don't deserve eternal torment, I wasn't never even really that bad, I never killed anyone at least! Uh.. I don't want your- ... Actually, a hug would be nice..-

// OH MY STARS HELLO!! the feeling is mutual, your stuff is great and it is an honor to get something from you <3 //

#i have no mouth and i must scream #ihnmaims #am ihnmaims #benny ihnmaims #ellen ihnmaims #gorrister ihnmaims #nimdok ihnmaims #ted ihnmaims #ask blog #🗯️ anon

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rosesnink · 8 months ago

Text

Orc Bonds with Elf

Author's Notes

Je suis back on my 'shipping for a hot minute my MC with my friends' MCs'! This time, a personal crush of mine, @zhoras-bitch 's Ray Nightbloom, who often reminds me why I'm gay <3 I hope I made your girl justice, and that you enjoy yourself reading this as I've enjoyed writing this! The prompts used were 'longing-tempest-identity'

English isn't my first language, so please forgive any typos/grammar mistakes

If you wish to be tagged in my Blades stuff or submit your MC-OC for these kinda writings, hmu and my taglist!

Summary: Recharging her battery, Brienne has a meaningful conversation with a new friend

Word Count: 1.0k

Category: Platonic

Rating: General audiences

Book: Blades of Light and Shadow

As the Spring Harvest was at its peak, Brienne needed a small break from so many people. Allowing the primaveral wind blow her maroon dress, she went to the fountain where the elderly cured their parchment and simply existed in silence.

Closing her eyes, she allowed herself to exist in silence. She became in-tune with nature: the leaves, the wind, the water flowing, the sun. The smell of food and laughter faded, leaving her alone in a plaza with nothing but chatting elders and the occasional stray cat seeing if any of them had any food.

Until she noticed that she was being watched. She opened her eyes and scanned through the place, until she found a girl watching her closely. Not a girl. And elf. She was rather tall, with pinkish skin, violet eyes and a long blonde-silver hair. She seemed shy and lonely, and Brienne beckoned her to her side, not wanting her to suffer through the elderly’s questions.

She sat shyly over the edge “I’m sorry if I was bothering you with my staring…”

Brienne smiled sweetly “Don’t fret. I get stared a lot around here. And I suppose you do too.”

Brienne noticed how the she-elf was examining her: today she had a maroon dress, with a plunged V-neck, her hair down, black ringlets decorated with white and violet wildflowers and her dress had flowery embroidery as well. She also could tell that she had noticed now how big she was. Seeing that she had been caught, she flushed and looked away “Forgive me, I… haven’t seen an orc in my life.”

“Do I meet your expectations, uh…?”

“Ray. And you… well, exceeded them. They always told me they were ugly and brusque and…”

“I’m not? I’m glad you think so, Ray. I’m Brienne. I was raised here, and have been baffling the entirety of Riverbend for nearly twenty-four years.”

They shook hands, and Brienne noticed how soft and elegant they were, compared to her callous and huge ones she had. She was also warm, and there was something about her that transmitted peace.

It was Brienne who broke the silence “How come I’ve never seen you? I don’t see myself walking past such a beauty like yourself.”

“I, uh, don’t get out much. I don’t really enjoy the attention I get from being, well, me.”

“Shame. Seeing your beautiful self would’ve made my day.”

She giggled “Now you’re compelling me to leave the house more often. And I wouldn’t be able to walk past you either.”

“Because of my size?”

“And your beauty and clear charm. There’s something about you, Brienne… you inspire many emotions.”

“Such as?”

“Calm. Understanding. Boldness…”

She raised an eyebrow, sliding closer to her “Boldness, you say?”

Ray bit her lip, and Brienne, feeling self-conscious, moved away “Apologies. I am aware that my size is… a tad overwhelming to some.”

“It’s not that, it’s just… I’m not used to this. People normally have prejudices against me.”

She stroked a golden lock away from her “They’re fools then. You’re not to blame for the sins and past of your kind. And neither am I.”

“I suppose they’ve thrown at you the tale of Ventra Tal Kaelen?”

Brienne snorted “Many times. Hells, I don’t even know what she did!”

Ray made a face “Apparently, she forcibly conquered the orc clans and formed Flotilla. There are tales of a runaway orc that left their child here.”

Brienne perked up “When was this?”

They both seemed to realize it, and Brienne was, for the first time, caught off-guard “Do you think… they were running away from her? From Ventra?”

“It is possible, though the librarian said they left to fight shortly after.”

Brienne frowned “Were they… keeping me safe? Or simply did not want me?”

Ray grabbed her hand, which was much bigger in comparison, and lifted the orc’s chin “Listen to me. I may have just met you, but I can assure you that it was for a good cause. You truly seem like someone incredible, and the way they talk about them, they seemed like a good person.”

Brienne stroked her cheek, and sighed “Thank you, Ray. It’s just— had they stayed, perhaps I wouldn’t feel like a beast pretending to be human. Like I am some… burden that they can’t wait to get rid of. I love being here but… I know I ought to leave someday. Maybe to Port Parnassus. Or Flotilla, to find my parents.”

“If you do, it’ll be your choice, not theirs. You don’t seem like the type to just take orders.”

Brienne smirked “Neither do you.”

They laughed, basking into the dawn of spring, the sun turning from a bright yellow to a dark orange. They sat there, both their minds far away from this godsdamned town. Brienne didn’t have elven sensitivity, but she could very well read Ray’s expression.

“I am glad to have found someone who may feel the same way. Everybody seems to have figured out that this is their home and will never leave, but I…”

“Do not?” She sighed “Honestly, neither do I. It is a lovely town, and the people are nice, but… I feel like my time here is starting to end. I want to travel the world from my books. Have great adventures. Make my own way. Being swept off my feet by a charming prince or—,”

“A charming orc?” She teased.

Ray giggled “It wouldn’t hurt, no.”

Brienne stood up and produced two coins. She gave one to Ray and approached the well. She closed her eyes: she saw a vast, never-ending path, full of adventures and people to meet, and a shadow waiting for her. She poised the coin between her fingers, kissed it and threw it to the well. She beckoned Ray to do the same.

Ray did the same, and smiled. “I suppose it’d be rude to ask what did you wish for?”

“Not rude, but rather imprudent. I’d hate to see my wish undone for telling.”

They observed as the sun started to leave their eyesight, and Brienne looked at Ray, and Ray at Brienne. Then, Ray tiptoed to her face, and kissed sweetly Brienne’s cheek. She flushed, and smiled brightly “Thank you, Brienne, for probably the best night of my life.”

Brienne kissed her hand “And thank you, fairest Ray, for delighting me with your company. May our paths cross soon.”

She squeezed her hand “Soon.”

#playchoices fanfiction #blades of light and shadow #bol&s #mc: brienne nagoni #ray nightbloom #brienne x ray #f!orc!mc x f!elf!mc #cfwc fics of the week #cfwc lgbtqia

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dzpenumbra · 2 years ago

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4/19/23

I have had this thing lately (the past few years) where I will write paragraphs and paragraphs - reddit comments, replies or whatever the fuck they call them on here, shit like that - and... my process, when I'm not doing stream of consciousness like this, is to proofread... and then add more... and then proofread... and then add more. And it turns into a fucking like 3 hour ordeal and like 2.5 pages of commentary. And then... I usually delete it. I usually go... "someone is just going to write one fucking typo riddled autocorrected sentence and pick a fucking fight with me without even reading what I said, its not even goddamn worth it." And, unfortunately, enough goddamn times... that's been correct. Enough for compulsively deleting draft after draft and then never posting anything to become an engrained habit. Thanks a lot, Reddit. Really appreciate it.

I'm typing this because I spent the last hour and a half drafting a reply I was writing on someone else's journal on here. Tumblr limits your reply length, so... I just... kept rewriting and rephrasing, trying to optimize the space and communicate all the thoughts I had. And... I couldn't. And by the end, I was just worried that... I was just worried that me commenting on the journal would just kinda upset her or make her anxious, so I backed off. I feel bad. It's my problem, my anxiety, and I really just wanted to reassure her that like... it's not her fault. I just really wanted to be the reassuring, kind, pat-on-the-back voice for someone that I have needed so many times in identical situations to what she's going through. So, if she's reading this... you didn't do anything wrong. He needs to work with someone to manage his emotions. Therapy would be good, or a good friend. But he needs to seek that out, and he really should be communicating better with you, and it's super not fair that he's blaming your actions for him reliving his past pain. Those two things are tangentially related, not directly, and that is very often confused by a shocking number of people. If an individual chooses to avoid their triggers and not deal with the emotions, that's their own choice to make, but the second they start going around policing the innocent behaviors of others? And blaming their actions for the tangential pain it caused them? That's... that's not fuckin healthy, dogg. That's nooot gooooood.

And... I suck at confrontation and setting boundaries... so... I really don't know how to give advice for that. What I would try if I had a girlfriend who was dealing with this... would be to say: "Look, I know the location brings up bad memories. I would never pressure you to go there yourself. But our friends are insisting I go because it's like... a tradition kinda thing... so how about when I go to that, you do something special for yourself, something fun that you look forward to, special 'you-time' kinda shit. Treat yo self. Then, when I get home, we can do something fun together, or if you need to process and work through any emotions or memories that might've come up and need someone to commiserate on how much of a piece of shit those people were to you and how it still hurts, I've got your back."

That's how I would deal with it. And if they still blamed me after that and told me I was not allowed to go to that location because me going to that location was "causing them pain"... and that meant I was causing them pain? I would strongly consider leaving the relationship. At very least setting a huge bold neon boundary there and let them know that attempting to control my behaviors as a way of avoiding processing their own feelings... is... not on the table.

Sorry for the... bit of a context-less tangent there. It was a very relatable situation for me. From both sides, unfortunately. I have always been intensely emotional, and I have not always been as... skillful... as I am now. It has been years and years and years of grueling, intense work. But I can really say, the work does pay off.

Today, I woke up after 4 hours of sleep. My upstairs neighbor was listening to action movies at a decently high volume at 10AM like right the fuck above my bed. And again, I ran into the same night-shift insomniac quandary I have run into my entire adult life. When you go to bed at 5 AM, regardless of whether it's a work-related, mental health-related or biophysical-related cause for that circadian rhythm... you can reliably expect for people to NOT be compassionate towards your desire for a quiet sleeping environment before noon. I have run into this many times over the past 5 years. Blasting explosions and gunfire and muffled screaming above the bedroom of an insomniac with PTSD - who wakes up wide-eyed, heart racing, still clutching the staff they went to sleep holding for a sense of security - on a Tuesday morning at 10AM is a basic human right. HOWEVER, walking around on creaky floorboards at 4AM is you being an inconsiderate asshole. <sighs>

I have no idea if it's because these people just don't care about keeping quiet? If they're college kids or city folk or just... oblivious or don't give a shit or something? I mean, it's just really hard for me to process the mindset of someone who moans really loud while having sex at like 10PM on a weeknight in an apartment building. Like... you know people are gonna hear you, right? They just don't care, right? The whole mindset is just so... alien to me. How can you care that little about how your actions impact others?

In an odd way, I'm kinda jealous. How liberating that must feel.

My running theory is... maybe it's because they're on the top floor. They don't have an upstairs neighbor. Sound does seem to travel down more than through the walls, and I've rarely heard my downstairs neighbors more than just an occasional loud cough. Maybe they aren't aware of how much sound carries downstairs because they have no one upstairs? I don't know.

Either way... I got some cereal, curled up in the comfy chair, popped in the AirPods with the noise cancelling on and tried to nap. I woke up like 3 or 4 times. But I got some sleep. Yoga was intense today, but I was mostly able to keep up.

Here's the really good news. I got a ton of work done on the desire path project today. A fuckin butt-ton. I got the camera glitches sorted out. I got the video rendered in 3 different shots. A panning intro shot following the paths. A wide shot of the paths growing. A close-up of a diverging desire path forming. All the video came out great. I got it all put into the video editor, I added in the camera shake which really brought more life to it, really glad I figured that out. Then I programmed all the crossfades I needed. I even went and filmed some replacement cinematic shots in Minecraft without any of the HUD shit to show off the shrines. They look real slick with the shaders and everything.

The video is now mostly done... the only pieces left are... About 3 minutes of raw hiking footage, which would be pretty cool as like... a time lapse? Maybe several different trail walks spliced together to keep it interesting? Gonna have to reserve a car and get up early for that. And... this other section where I was talking about the precursor ideas to what I ended up going with... where I was discussing making rudimentary AI and having them explore a topographical map... then replacing the AI with me using a ballpoint pen. And I settled on my way of presenting this being... me illustrating what I'm talking about in the VO as though I'm drawing it on a whiteboard, and animating that. Like I'm drawing it in real-time. And then the whiteboard shit can actually come to life, which is cool.

So... those are the next steps - hike and whiteboard animation. Whiteboard animation will likely be first, because my sleep schedule has been totally fucked. But if I can pick a nice day and just reserve the car and say "no matter how little sleep I get that night, I'm driving 20 minutes over to that national park and filming", I guarantee I will have a great day and it will be worth it. Just have to overcome the anxiety of driving while not 100%, which has been plaguing me for years and years and years. When a friend loses their sister to a car crash like 50 yards from their house, and you lived like... right down the street from that? And drove down that road past that spot every day? It sticks with you, you know?

The rest of the video is just cosmetic shit, like a credits page (which would be just... literally everything made by me...) or like... a little nudge for people to go over to my barren neglected Patreon. It's worth putting in there.

So yeah, that was basically it. I had 2 avocados and 3 baked potatoes with butter, salt, pepper, green onion, sour cream and a mix of pepper jack and habanero jack cheese on em for dinner, and it was great. And I watched a bit of a Red Dead RP stream in the background. And that was the day. And now I'm fucking wiped, so... I'm off to bed! Hopefully I don't get woken up by really loud TV for the 3rd day in a row. You're welcome, downstairs neighbor, for me literally always wearing headphones with my PC and my TV.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of consciousness #stream of thoughts

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hereticallyeverafter · 1 year ago

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Long Introspective on Character Affiliation, line break to protect from my unpopular/horrible taste in ships:

On mobile, sorry for any linebreak goofs or typos, Im smort honnest lol.

I know I sparked some outrage, or rather, Spicy Discourse, by discussing my Littlesansa shippage- not that I regret that necessarily lol I still believe it would be/have been a politically advantageous move, but I want you all to know that I did do some reflection on my taste in characters. I understand that out of context, my proposal is horrifying and I don't deny that, but I have noticed my peculiar affinities for Unhinged Characters, not just GoT related. I think I haveva better grip o why, so I need everyone to momentarily suspend their judgement for a sec, I'm invoking a Safe Space Barrier. None of this is an excuse for my taste in characters (and people because it extends to real life too, with the sort of consequences one might imagine lol), just an explanation.

Other "Problematic Ships" I stan are Sessrin- I still invoke Cultural Context on this one because historically speaking, in that era of Japan, etc etc.- and Jolysui, so very clearly I lean towards just plain weird men.

I know the meter by which one measures out a reasonable amount of empathy is broken inside me and that I tend to empathize and extend grace to those who don't deserve it. But after the recent stink, I began to connect some dots. Like I said, you think my ships are bad, you should see my life. I've always gravitated towards "weird" or difficult to love people and that trait has been perceived and taken advantage of plenty. I guess you could say I do it to myself to an extent- if someone is a known asshole, when the relationship inevitably crashes and burns, you always have the "out" of saying "at least I tried".

It's like trying to pet a snarling dog over and over. It doesn't matter what your intentions are, intention doesn't protect you from consequences when you know or can reasonably surmise that the animal - or, to extend the metaphor, person- is hurting or fearful. I have been that stupid.

I think the characters I like are just an extension of that, but within the comparative safety of a fictional universe lol.

I realized this and began to wonder if I really am that stupid- expecting my innocence to shelter me from consequence- or I'd there's more to dig through. At what point does naiveté cross into being manipulative? Think about it: You see someone with all these red flags and attempt to befriend them but keep getting hurt. You have put that person in an unwinnable position: either they are going to continue acting from a place of unhealed trauma that they aren't ready to face, or they will respond favorably but still be forced to confront their ugly track record. You can't love or force people into healing, and simply trying is asking for creating resentment whether they heal or not. Unconscious or not, that is manipulative behavior at worst, and manipulative regardless as a form of emotional self-harm on your part for instigating the situation at best.

I've come to realize that some degree of me has been manipulative in this way in the past from a lack of security. I think my ships of certain characters are a reflection of that, and my "broken empathy valve" is a self-preservation excuse, but also stems from my neurodivergence. A lot of people like to blame their ND-status on their bad behavior, but I have ADHD with autistic tendencies, so there IS some bleed-through. While I acknowledge where my "bad taste" stems from, recognizing it in real time is still difficult, and I thinks what's worse is, I tend to gravitate, as all NDs do- towards other ND people or ND-coded characters.

So a fictional character I simp for in the safety of Imagination Land might look Unhinged or Proplematic to the average NT layperson but to me, it makes sense. While the people I like are red flags, the one thing I can say, the green lining if you will, is that they lack pretense. Because their pain or limitations are so bare, when I inevitably get bitten, at least I CAN blame myself because I knew what I was getting into, they didn't lie about themselves. They didn't hide their intent. They didn't or couldn't mask.

I doubt anyone would read this or read this far, and I am afraid if someone does, they'll just roll their eyes and call it an excuse anyway. God forbid anyone enjoy anything. We can separate the art from the artist but not the art from the viewer. I can say my silly little ships are ultimately harmless but there are people who will argue that it's not, like I'm going to start advocating for child marriage or human/demon interbreeding. I only care about a person's ships insofar as what it reveals about them psychologically (hence the word wall) but I would never stoop to presume that they were actionable bc that's just such a weird leap to make. My bad taste in people wasn't or isn't informed by my "bad taste" in fictional characters; it's the other way around lol

#armchair psychology #ships and neurodivergence #unpopular ships #not naming names Im not starting that again lol #long read #psychoanalogy #i wroted u an essay i hope u wike it uwu

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luvxiem · 2 years ago

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the stars aligned for us

word count ! 【idk】idk【idk】 pairing ! luxiem x gn!reader (separately) genre ! fluff, mild angst on luca's part summary ! different soulmate au tropes w our faves bc i'm weak and love self indulgence 🤭 soulmate aus my beloved cw ! non-explicit violence/injuries on luca's part notes ! this was written on my phone so sorry for the uggy formatting and any typos 😭💔 btw tysm for 100 followers 🥺🫶 i appreciate y'all lots for enjoying my shit LMFAOOO it's just me projecting on here but i'm glad u guys enjoy it anyways when u wanna read a fanfic so bad but it doesn't exist yet so u gotta write it urself also kindred plz don't kill me for calling vox an asshole i meant it endearingly (insert "'i hate him' while putting up his picture" meme here)

.｡.:*☆ IKE EVELAND !

TROPE: SEEING COLORS

ike's world has been black and white for as long as he could remember

his friends have always told him how beautiful everything be came after they made eye contact with their soulmate for the first time

despite them trying their best to describe colors (what does a "warm" color even look like anyway?) it was hard for ike to really care

after all, how can you miss something you never experienced?

but more than seeing colors, the novelist just wanted to meet his soulmate

it wasn't that he was lonely; ike had his fair share of relationships in the past with others like him (those who haven't had the chance to meet their soulmate just yet, but wanted to date anyways)

however being a writer comes with a certain sense of romanticism and a lust for life, and ike was no exception

he's always loved the thought of meeting someone who was perfect for him in every way; a person who he could be his honest self around and love with all his heart

this is why when he suddenly started seeing colors he never could've imagined on a busy sidewalk, he immediately started scanning the crowd for you

he spotted you under the canopy of a nearby cafe. you were looking around with clear awe on your face, mouth slightly agape as you took in the new world around you, not even noticing the grumbles of passerby who narrowly avoided you.

you looked almost ethereal in your (now known as blue) button up, the sunshine leaving your skin in a warm glow. the gentle breeze ruffled your hair just right, and the novelist couldn't tear his gaze away.

as much as ike wanted to admire his new view too, he was more focused on making sure he didn't lose you. he's thought about it countless of times—dreamt of it, even—of somehow meeting his soulmate and losing them right away, never to be seen again. ike's lost enough sleep over it and he was determined to not make his nightmares a reality.

pushing past shoulders with rushed "sorry's" and "excuse me's," ike rushed to get to you as quick as possible; and soon enough, he was now standing face to face with you—the person who would become the love of his life.

your gaze fell onto him and an unspoken realization was met. you could feel it to; the ecstasy blooming in your very core at finally meeting your other half.

"hi," he breathed, a broad smile adorning his face. "i think i'm your soulmate."

.｡.:*☆ LUCA KANESHIRO !

TROPE: MUTUAL PAIN

woe is the soulmate of a certain blonde haired mafia boss

injuries came with the job, unfortunately, but the soft-hearted man couldn't help but feel sorry for his soulmate

luca knew some most of his injuries weren't normal. civilians don't get bullet wounds in their arm or knife slashes to the chest

did his soulmate worry for him? or were they wishing they weren't fated at all? as much as it hurt, luca couldn't find it in himself to blame them if they did

the small pricks he felt on his fingertips from presumably paper cuts can't compare to literally getting stabbed in the back

eventually it came to a point where luca tried to stop going outside altogether

he can't obtain any further injuries if he's always at the base, right?

but that fantasy couldn't last forever.

the one day he had to be escorted to a different location, him and his guards got ambushed

luca was the only one who got away, but not without sustaining a bullet wound to his shoulder

it wasn't as bad as it could've been but it still hurt like a bitch

stumbling into an alleyway, the blonde collapsed next to a dumpster, creating a loud thud that echoed into the night

luca was ready to rip off a piece of his shirt to wrap his shoulder when suddenly a bright light momentarily blinded him

standing a little bit away was you, pointing your phone flashlight on him while gripping your shoulder in your other hand

"so you're a med student?" luca asks, gritting his teeth when you dab at his bullet wound with rubbing alcohol. tossing the cotton ball, you reach into your first aid kit for gauze.

"yeah," you say quietly, starting to wrap his shoulder. the blonde frowns noticing how you refuse to meet his eyes. he opened his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

"i chose this path because of you." at your words luca's eyebrow raises in question. you finished wrapping him up and now rest your hands in your lap, fiddling with your fingers. "you got so many injuries growing up and i didn't know what to do. i was worried you didn't have anyone to help you so i wanted to learn how," you explain quietly. at this the mafia boss's gaze softens.

"how'd you know? that i'm your soulmate, i mean," he asks. reaching up, you gently grazed the large scar on his abdomen with your fingers.

"i recognized your injuries," you said. luca shivered at your touch, raising his non-injured arm to cover your hand with his.

"i'm glad i ran into you then, soulmate."

.｡.:*☆ MYSTA RIAS !

TROPE: COUNTDOWN TIMER

mysta's known since he was five that he had a soulmate, just like every other five-year-old in his class

but there was one teeny little problem

ok actually it was a major problem

his timer seemed to be broken

instead of the few years or days or months like his friends had, his timer was set to decades

because of how long his timer was set for, mysta was teased mercilessly for "having a soulmate who doesn't even want to meet him"

this followed him for most of his youth until eventually he covered up his wrist and tried to forget about it alltogether

if he wasn't going to meet his soulmate until he was old and gray, why should he even care

that was until he fell through that damned portal and landed in 2022

he noticed it after he got out of the shower, spotting his wrist in the mirror while brushing back his hair

mysta's mouth dropped open in shock, dropping his arm to gently run his fingers over the numbers

the timer that was the bane of his younger self's existence was down to the hours

the detective was antsy, understandably.

a lifetime of thinking he wouldn't ever meet his soulmate suddenly turned into meeting his soulmate in twenty minutes. mysta wasn't sure what to do, how he should act. should he go outside? he should, right? how else would he meet you?

filled with a newfound sense of determination, mysta grabbed his keys and darted into the london night.

there was hardly anyone out this late; maybe his timer really was broken? what were you doing out at one in the morning, don't you know that's dangerous? who knows what kind of dangerous people were prowling outside right now.

mysta started walking briskly toward a more crowded area of the city. if he had to meet you, it would be somewhere safe.

settling on standing in front of a pub he's been to a few times with friends, the detective started counting down the minutes till he would meet you. he kept glancing at his wrist, watching the numbers go down one by one until there was only a minute left on the clock.

mysta tapped his foot impatiently as he glanced left and right down the street until suddenly, he felt the lightest tap on his shoulder. he spun on his heel and low and behold, there you were.

grinning, you spoke.

"nice to finally meet you, soulmate."

and mysta couldn't be happier.

.｡.:*☆ SHU YAMINO !

TROPE: SWITCHING BODIES

in all honesty, shu couldn't care less about having a soulmate

the idea of the universe choosing who he would fall in love with didn't sit right with him

not to mention how frustrating it would be sometimes when the two of you switched bodies at inconvenient times

like in the middle of one of his experiments

or when he's talking to one of his fellow sorcerers

or how about that time he was meditating in a lovely, perfectly quiet room for the first time in ages as a way to destress only to suddenly wake up in your body in the middle of a bustling city

yeah, shu wasn't all too happy about it, but what can he do?

so while all his friends were out actively searching for ways to meet their soulmate in person, shu was directing his energy toward mastering his powers instead

but the thing about having a soulmate is that you can't exactly reject them altogether

they're your soulmate for a reason, after all

so despite his resistance, the purple sorcerer found himself falling for you all the same

he grew antsy at particularly long periods without switching and eventually started leaving notes behind for you for when you would eventually switch

including a bright purple post-it with an address and a time and date

shu sat inside the cafe anxiously, bouncing his leg under the table while sipping his drink. he hoped that his note was obvious enough that you saw it the last time you guys swapped bodies, but how could he know for sure? you didn't leave a reply on his note, and the swap period was rather short that time too.

minutes passed the written time and the pounding in shu's chest grew louder and louder in his ears. he looked up at every tinkle of the bell above the door, hoping that it was you only to be disappointed when it wasn't. he kept glancing out the window rather obsessively, and soon enough his cup was empty too.

after 40 minutes had gone by, the sorcerer had just about given up. letting out a disappointed sigh, he rose from his chair to leave his tray and finished drink on the counter only to pause when the bell jingled one last time. shu looked up on instinct and his breath got caught in his throat.

in the doorway was you, slightly sweaty and definitely out of breath, looking frantically around the cafe before your eyes landed on him. shu was still holding the tray in his hands when you ran up to him, still in shock at seeing you in the flesh for the first time and not just through a mirror.

"h...hi..." you stutter, gripping the strap of your tote bag tightly in your fists. "i'm sorry i'm late. but i'm so glad i found you." shu broke out of his trance and smiled, setting the tray back down on the table.

"i'm glad you found me too."

.｡.:*☆ VOX AKUMA !

TROPE: FIRST WORDS

fitting for a voice demon that the first words his soulmate says to him is permanently printed onto his skin

"you're gonna have to try harder than that if you wanna impress me, pretty boy" decorated his ribs under his right pectoral

now vox knows he's hot

he's well aware of the power he holds fucking asshole and uses his charm and good looks to his advantage

the demon spent most of his early years dropping one liners and introducing himself with various pickup lines in an attempt to find his elusive soulmate

and many have tried to pretend they were his fated one but they never succeeded

after the death of his clan and being transported to the future, it took vox a long time to feel ready to find his soulmate again

slowly he started visiting pubs and parties in an attempt to socialize

it was at one of these parties that he met you

beer in hand, vox pushed past a group laughing with each other in the hallway to slip out onto the balcony. he was hoping to get a chance to breathe and get away from all the sweaty partygoers, but there was already another person out here with him. figuring it wouldn't hurt to say something, the demon let a familiar smirk slip onto his face as he approached you.

sensing his presence, you turned your head to look at him in curiosity, fiddling with the many rings on your fingers.

"why hello there; what's a gorgeous person like you doing out here all alone?" he drawls, sliding up next to you. a breathy laugh escaped your lips, dropping your head to your chest for a moment before you looked back up and meeting his gaze dead on.

"you're gonna have to try harder than that if you wanna impress me, pretty boy."

at your words vox faltered, the smirk falling from his face as his lips parted in surprise. the skin where his soulmate mark was seemed to tingle.

it seems like you figured it out too; your eyes widened and suddenly you were tugging your shirt up to show a matching tattoo on your ribs. you let the fabric fall back down and looked back up at him, a softer smile now gracing your features as vox reached over to intertwine his fingers with yours.

"would you look at that," you laughed happily. "guess you really did impress me, pretty boy."

WRITTEN ! 080222

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impactofthegenshin · 2 years ago

Text

Meeting at the Masquerade

characters: Diluc reader: fem!reader warnings: none word count: 818 a/n: i wrote only one character to warm up, tho i do plan on writing for the others too. too lazy to proofread, look out for any typos.

Diluc

You felt out of place at the ball. Being a lady entailed you to attend parties you didn’t like attending, but you did it for the sake of the family name. Your parents ushered you to every ball in the city, hoping you’d bump into a handsome suitor in one of them.

You cast a glance around the wide ballroom, seeing not handsome men or beautiful women but bejewelled, colourful masks. Right. You were attending a masquerade at the Dawn Winery, in honor of the owner, Diluc Ragnvindr’s birthday. You hadn't seen him all night, though you'd tried to find him. Not in hopes of catching his eye, oh no. You knew the Ragnvindr heir was famous for rejecting any who came to him, men and women alike. You simply wanted to thank him for the invitation. But his red mane was nowhere to be seen.

Tugging at the fox mask that fit rather snugly onto your face, your mouth formed a thin line. The invitation to the ball had reached your doorstep last week, sending your mother into a frenzy of dresses and jewels for the past 7 days. The crimson ball gown you wore, now fluttered behind you as you explored the ballroom in hopes of finding a familiar face.

But wherever you looked, you were greeted with glassy eyes behind masks. Of course, the Dawn Winery would not have a party without, well, wine. It disgusted you to no end but you could not leave the party before the birthday toast. Your shoulders were beginning to slump as you wandered alone, wine glass in hand.

You raised your glass to your lips, tasting the wine for the first time that night when it splashed all over your face and dress. You gaped at the glass, wondering what you'd done to anger it when someone offered you a handkerchief.

“I’m so sorry I did not see you there. I apologise for ruining your dress.” You looked up at the man who spoke, his piercing red eyes clear behind his owl mask despite the wine being served. You hadn’t realised he’d bumped into you, instead blaming the glass for somehow being sentient.

“It’s quite alright. I wasn’t really fond of the dress anyways.” The man grimaces as he estimates the cost of the dress, his scarlet ponytail swishing to the side.

“Don’t worry, I’m not much for dresses and riches. My family is well off to have several of these dresses ruined and not a percent of their coffers wasted.”

The man raised his brows, perturbed by your nonchalance to the wealth. Clearing your throat, you took a good look at him. He looked to be of nobility with his crisp suit and star studded mask. The owl plumes gracefully framed his face, the red stones standing out and bringing his sharp gaze to attention. Your hands itched to remove the cover, to see the man beneath.

You had to admit he was rather handsome, even with the mask on. Your palms suddenly turned clammy and your mind kept drifting to the ugly wine stain on your dress. Feeling self conscious, you asked him something before he had the chance to open his mouth, “Have you seen Diluc Ragnvindr by any chance tonight? I’ve been meaning to thank him for the invitation he sent.”

The question had clearly thrown him off, his mouth opening and closing like a fish on land. Puzzled, you thanked him for his handkerchief and went your way. Looking back, you realise you didn’t even know his name. Cursing your foolishness, you wondered if you’d ever come across the handsome stranger again. Without the mask, preferably.

A few days had passed since the ball at the Dawn Winery. Not wanting to stay in the sticky ballgown for the entire night, you had made an excuse to Adelinde before departing. You didn’t catch hold of Diluc after that and shrugged away the thought. That was before your maid brought a pretty little package to your room. You asked who it was from and she handed you a note.

You opened the wrapped box, dumbfounded to find a gown of the lightest purple, studded with pearls around the bodice. The sleeves were long but gauzy, loose and flowy around the wrist. It would have cost a disgusting amount of mora, but somehow you did not mind the price this time.

You quickly turned over the envelope, ripping open the cover and reading the elegant handwriting.

Dear y/n,

I apologise for spilling wine on your dress and ruining it during my birthday ball. The crimson colour rather dulled your appearance, I wouldn’t say I’m really sorry. I hope this colour suits you better, I had to ask Adelinde what would look good on you. Visit Angel’s Share anytime and ask for me. I look forward to meeting you again and talking.

Diluc Ragnvindr

#genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin mihoyo #writing #genshin x reader #genshin diluc #genshin drabbles #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc fluff #fluff #genshin fic #genshin zhongli #genshin xiao #genshin childe #genshin lumine #female reader

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amistytown · 3 years ago

Text

Power Over Me (Leviathan x GN!MC)

Leviathan x GN!MC as Lord of Shadow and Henry; MC is referred to as Henry but remains gender-neutral. I enjoy the TSL lore in Obey Me and wanted to write a bit for it. I initially had an alternate ending in mind, but I decided to save it for another idea I might write at some point. Tried to keep Levi in character while giving him and the story a slightly different feel since it takes place in a fantasy world. Also listened to Power Over Me by Dermot Kennedy on repeat while I wrote this so chose to title it accordingly. Hopefully, it turned out all right. Trigger warning for mentions of blood and self-deprecating thoughts. Mostly some angst with fluff. As always, sorry for the typos that I may have missed, and thank you to everyone who takes the time to read. I appreciate it!

Lightning illuminates the throne room, the Lord of Shadow watching the rain batter the windows, gaze sullen. A storm rages outside, mirroring the flood of emotion bursting forth to drown him in misery. Though he can only hold himself accountable, allowing his envy to fester and take possession of his heart in a moment of weakness. He regrets the letters he frantically wrote in his jealously, the heated words exchanged between you, and your pain forever engrained into the parchment, the ink smudged by your tears, which now lay in pieces at his feet. He considered to make the journey to you, begging for your forgiveness, but he knows he’s undeserving. Instead, he mourns the loss of your friendship, the loneliness left in its wake burning him from the inside out as he cries into his hands, his tortured sobs lost to the thunder roaring above.

The doors swing open, light spilling in from the hall. He recoils at the intrusion, anger welling and threatening to spill over, his patience worn thin. A growl dies in his throat, eyes widening at the vision before him, so beautiful and precious his entire being aches with longing. Slowly, he takes in the sight of you, engraving every detail into his memory. Your windswept hair and the raindrops trickling down your face, clinging to your lashes and following the curve of your lips as you smile sweetly at him, staggering into his arms.

“Henry,” he whispers into the nape of your neck, daring to embrace you and revel in the feel of your body against his; your skin cool and soft, and your scent rich, intoxicating him. He’s certain he’s not worthy of your compassion, yet he can’t bear to turn you away, selfishly clinging to you and delighting in the fact you lean into him, your arms winding around his waist to pull him closer. My Henry, he thinks, tightening his grip, afraid he’ll lose you again if he’s not careful. “I’m sorry. I’m so so—”

You grow limp, legs buckling under your weight.

Fear engulfs him, heart lurching as he supports you, catching your hand in his. “Henry?” he whimpers, noticing how your chest heaves with each breath, and the way your brows knit in discomfort, a low groan slipping past clenched teeth. “Henry! What’s wrong? Tell me, please.”

“I ran into a bit of trouble on the way here,” you manage, laughing pitifully. “I didn’t realize . . .” Your fingers fumble to unclasp your cloak, and he swallows thickly at way lay beneath. Blood soaks your blouse—a sickening shade of red—the fabric sticking to your back.

“You didn’t realize?” he cries, incredulous. “Henry—”

“I just wanted to see you.” Your voice wavers, head lolling to the side. He calls to you, shaking you by the shoulders, desperate to keep you beside him. However, your eyes close, grief overtaking him when they don’t reopen.

“You’ll be okay,” he reassures, robes billowing around his ankles as he rushes down the corridor, gently cradling you to him. Guilt plagues him, reminding him how pathetic he is, especially for hurting you and putting your life at risk; how could he act so recklessly. You’re the light to his darkness, breathing life into his world, and he can’t accept losing you—his happiness—your love dispelling the shadows that once consumed him. He never knew a truer friend, and he’s positive there’s no one else who could play such an important role—you’re irreplaceable. There’s plenty of time to atone for his sins, tonight he needs to make sure you live to see the morning.

“I’ll take care of you, Henry. I promise.”

Time comes to an agonizing standstill.

The Lord of Shadow remains at your side, hoping and praying you don’t succumb to your wounds. He watches you closely, frequently checking your pulse and finding comfort in the steady beat of your heart while you sleep, looking deceivingly peaceful in his bed. His focus is on you, never straying from his true friend’s wellbeing despite his inner turmoil, which threatens to tear him apart at the seams. You keep him together, and again he’s at your mercy, owing you his life for all you’ve given him—his hero—his Henry. He hurt you, but you came to him and offered him forgiveness, willing to sacrifice yourself to save your friendship. How can you care about him with such ferocity, a brooding reclusive lord who’s unworthy of his title? No matter the days spent apart, you return to him, accepting him into your life without hesitance, and he can’t help welcoming you back with open arms.

“I’m so sorry,” he mutters. “I’m terrible. A worthless—”

“You’re not.”

For an excruciating second, he wonders if he imagined the glorious sound of your voice, and an anguished sob escapes him, tears clouding his vision. You stare up at him, eyes heavy with sleep, and a lazy smile on your lips. He’s dreaming, he reasons, shaking his head in disbelief. Then your hand is in his, familiar and warm; he shivers at your touch.

Gasping, he pulls away. “Y-you . . .”

“Forgive me,” you say, so understanding—so sweet—your kindness unfathomable. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“N-no,” he stammers, head spinning. “I’m sorry.” Tentatively, he reaches for your hand, fingers quivering as he entwines them with yours. “I’m sorry.” His tears come faster and harder, shamefully hot on his cheeks. He’s unable to articulate how sorry he is or how his very soul painfully throbs at the thought of hurting you—losing you—wishing he could turn back the clock. “For everything.”

You give his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s okay,” you soothe. “I’m sorry, too.” Sitting upright, the blanket bunches at your waist, and he can see where the bandages peek out from beneath your shirt, the skin bruised, making him wince. “Thank you for taking care of me.”

“I’m the reason you’re hurt,” he chokes out, averting his gaze. “It’s the least I can do.”

“It’s not your fault.”

You’re wrong, he wants to say; however, he refrains.

“I don’t blame you,” you continue. “Look at me, please?”

He shouldn’t. Surely, he looks foolish, a mere hostage to his emotions. Nevertheless, he spares you a glance, wondering why you regard him so kindly—lovingly even—causing his heart to flutter.

“It’s not your fault.”

Not his fault? His mind tells him differently; it’s a sea of dread and uncertainty that washes over him in waves, dragging him under. The sincerity of your words is difficult to ignore, and, in that instance, he decides to trust you, finally breaking the surface. “Henry,” he murmurs, hugging you to him, arms wrapping around you protectively as if to shield you from the world. His tears wet your hair, body trembling, and you hold him, letting him come undone in your embrace.

“I wanted to see you,” you say, setting him alight. “I couldn’t bear the thought of you suffering on your own.”

“Henry—”

“I know you’re struggling. It’s okay. I’m here.” You rub his back, resting your head on his chest. “I’ll always come when you call.”

“You’re the truest of friends, Henry. I fear I’m not worthy . . .”

“Of course, you are. I’ve never known a truer friend than you, my lord.”

“I can’t help worrying someone will steal you away. It’s selfish of me, I know. Though I feel so inferior in comparison. Sometimes I think you’re better off without me.” When he learned you met with the Lord of Corruption, his insecurities grew, fanning the flames of his envy. Why choose him over his brother? The Lord of Corruption could provide you with more than he can give. The rest of his brothers, too; they could care for you—protect you—unlike him. You’re here with him though, leaving his brother behind at a moment’s notice, and you did come when he called, eager to please. He wants to return the sentiment. “I can’t articulate how important you are to me. I . . . you’re so special, Henry.”

“No. No one compares to you.” Your praise captivates him. “All I ask is for you to trust me. Talk to me so I can help you. I accept you, all of you, and that’s not going to change. I love you as you are.”

“Love me?” he breathes.

“Yes, I love you.”

A simple but genuine vow of love. He stills, terrified he’ll faint in your arms as he hides his face, heart racing. The cynical part of him says it’s too good to be true, but he knows better—he knows you. He’s envisioned this moment, and it’s far sweeter than his fantasies, your love a beautiful feeling that sweeps him off his feet.

“Have you slept?”

He sighs, mouth unbearably dry. “No.”

“Come to bed. You should rest.”

“Henry! W-with you?”

“You say that as if it’s the first time we’ve shared a bed,” you tease.

“You’ll be the death of me.” Although he complains, the bed dips beneath his weight as he settles beside you, reaching for your hand. “Is this, okay?”

“It is.” Shifting onto your side, your hand tightens around his, a flicker of pain twisting your features.

He tenses, frowning. “Are you okay?”

“I’m all right. Better, thanks to you.”

He can see the exhaustion in your eyes, the dark circles beneath them, and the stiffness of your movements, betraying the smile you wear for him.

“Who hurt you?” he asks.

“No one you need to worry about. Not now.”

Unsurprising. You’re his Henry, besting him and his brothers on multiple occasions; anyone who chose to challenge you is a fool. Yet, your blood flowing freely, covering his hands—the ungodly stench—stayed with him. He clearly recalls your lifeless body, and how the color drained from your face, the heaviness of his heart breaking when he believed he lost you twice in one day. You looked so fragile then and do now, trusting him at your most vulnerable. Hatred for the one who dared to harm you runs deep and for himself for not protecting the one he loves.

“I thought I lost you,” he admits, inhaling sharply. “I-I . . .”

“You didn’t. You won’t.” You catch his tears as they fall. “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

“I love you, too.” His declaration is quick and clumsy but true; he’s loved you for so long.

Caging you in his arms, he hovers over you, peering down at you shyly. His body shakes with every beat of his heart, ears ringing, but he admires you, gaze affectionate and a light blush dusting your cheeks. He’s scared. He’s scared of losing you most of all, trying to muster half the courage he knows you possess. “I love you, Henry,” he says softly, clutching your hand, his lifeline. Closing the distance between you, he catches your lips in a tender kiss, the magnificence of it sending a rush of blood to his head. He forgets how to breathe, dizzy on the taste of your love, and collapses next to you, questioning if he died and ascended to the heavens. With you by his side the future is much brighter, and, for once, he looks forward to what it brings.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me leviathan #obey me mc #obey me reader #leviathan x mc #leviathan x reader #my writing

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yesttoheaven · 4 years ago

Text

AMOR FATI

pairing – neil x female!reader

wc – 3.8k

warnings – mention of death, self-blame, anxious/intrusive thoughts, questioning reality, refusal of help, guns, stalking, but I swear there's a light at the end of the tunnel haha

a/n – The last time I suffered so hard for the death of a character, was when Newt died (Maze Runner) and now Neil has captured all my attention and his death has hit me in the same way 😩 I needed a happy ending so I decided to write this!

The Eternal Return and Amor Fati mentioned in this fic are one of the main ideas of Nietzsche's philosophy.

English is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.

Y/N – your name

She approached the painting hanging on the wall, watching the details closely. Ouroboros. A serpent eating its own tail. Months ago, when Y/N was visiting an antique store in Mumbai, she saw that same symbol. The owner of the establishment approached when she realized her interest in the piece and explained that Ouroboros represents the ideas of movement, continuity and, in consequence, Eternal Return. A concept that the universe and all existence and energy has been recurring, and will continue to recur, in a self-similar form an infinite number of times across infinite time or space.

"Max finally fell asleep." Kat returned to the living room, attracting Y/N's attention.

She walked away from the painting, taking back her seat on the sofa and asked:

"How is he after everything that happened?"

For a moment, Kat looked at the painting on the wall and then at the friend she won in the midst of confusion over the Algorithm. At that time, despite being fighting on the front lines to prevent a possible Third World War, Y/N seems complete. Happy. Today that happiness no longer exists in her eyes.

Letting out a sigh, the woman sat next to her, answering:

"Sator was never a present father. He was always busy... now i can see the kind of work he was involved in. Anyway, Max just got used to his absence."

"It's notable that he's happier at your side. When we first met Max was a bit of an introvert, but today he is radiant." Y/N confessed, showing a small smile and the blonde shook her head, agreeing with her words. "How's everything?"

"Perfectly well. It's weird sometimes... After years of being stuck in a failed relationship, freedom is good."

"It seems like life is good for one of us." The woman let out a bitter laugh, putting the latest events on a scale, but she didn’t want her friend to think she wasn’t happy for her. She really was. "I'm sorry, I just..." The words remain stuck in her throat, while she covers her face with her hands. In addition to physical and mental fatigue, Y/N tried to hide her grief.

Kat touched her shoulder, showing that she was here.

"I know you're hurt, but it's been three months and you never talked about what happened that day... This is not good for you."

"What do I have to say, Kat? The guy I fell in love with was a fucking time traveler! And now he's dead and I don't know what to do. My life just... stopped without him."

"I can imagine how difficult it's for you to cross that line without Neil at your side, but giving up is not an option. Grief is consuming you little by little and you are just accepting it..."

"We are trained to contain our emotions and deal with death in the best possible way. It used to be easy for me, but then he came and turned my life upside down." Y/N put her hands on her knees and stood up, walking without an exact destination. "Neil was always one step ahead of us all..." She stepped forward too and found the painting again, but her mind was lost in thoughts about him. Neil knew her so well. And he had a charming smile, but completely arrogant at the same time. "I was sent to Mumbai to help two agents and when I arrived at Priya's penthouse that night, there he was. When he saw me, that was the first and only time that he let his guard down. I'll never forget how he looked at me, it was one of those breathtaking moments... Completely cliché, I know."

On the sofa, Kat was impressed. When Y/N turned towards her, there was a bright smile on her face. The simple memory brought her a breath of happiness and Kat enjoyed seeing her friend like that, but unfortunately that moment did not last long. Memories aren't enough. Neil is dead and nothing can change that.

"I miss him so much, Kat." The smile disappeared as soon as tears appeared in her eyes, cascading down her cheeks.

"My dear..." Worried about her, the woman got up quickly and approached Y/N, wrapping her in a tight hug. "I'm really sorry."

"I spent the last three months locked up in my a-apartment because I thought I could handle this situation on my own. At times I b-believed it was just a fever dream... Maybe I was losing my mind, but this is proof that everything was real." Through tears blurring her vision, she looked at the watch on her wrist, remembering that night.

Y/N was in a private cabin on the ship. The others were with Ives and Wheeler, going over the mission in search of any loose ends. A standard procedure. Y/N knew she should be with them, but she needed a moment alone to organize her thoughts. And that moment is now. The past few weeks had been a real mess. The inversion was difficult to explain and mainly to understand. She was used to field missions, but being an inverted soldier on the battlefield was not in her plans. Either way, she agreed to be a part of it and running away with biased assumptions was not going to help. Humanity depends on them.

Three knocking on the door caught Y/N's attention, but she remained silent, waiting for the person to give up and leave, but when it didn't, she just murmured 'Come in'.

"So, here you are." The man used a surprised tone of voice and closed the door behind him. "What will our superior think when he learns that you are running away from the briefing?"

She let out a laugh before answering in the same mood:

"Don't worry, I know this mission like the back of my hand. I just needed a moment."

"There's something wrong? Are you ok?" Neil spilled the questions quickly, visibly concerned for her.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Neil." Y/N smiled at him, but looked away just seconds later, confessing: "Maybe I'm a little surprised by the situation. I have spent years dealing with terrorists, but the inversion is really not my point."

"I'm not good with advice, but someone once said to me: Don't try to understand. Certain things in the world do not need an explanation."

"It's wise advice, but I'm a methodical person. Logic has always been my ally in missions."

"A methodical person, huh?" He asked with an arrogant smile playing on his lips and she just rolled her eyes. "I know how worried you were when Sator shot Kat, but we are using the inversion to save the world and you're one of the most brilliant agents I have ever seen. Everything will be fine."

"Are you praising me?"

"What's that? Can't I praise my partner's talent?" Neil pulled up a chair to sit across from her, crossing his arms.

"In that case, thank you. Remind me to put this on my resume." Those words made him laugh and that sound could easily be compared to music in her ears.

Touching her knee, Neil added:

"We are very confident with the mission. You don't need to worry."

"Are you sure?"

"I cannot say that unforeseen events do not happen, but we are prepared for that." Y/N knew he was right, but this mission is the biggest one so far. It's not about saving a country. It's about saving the entire world. This was arousing insecurities in her and it was like walking in a minefield. Ironically, she was familiar with this, but not in such catastrophic proportions. "I want you to have this." The man took his watch off his wrist and handed it to her.

"What’s that supposed to mean?" The question came out as a whisper from between her lips.

It didn't make sense. Why does everything in this conversation look like a farewell?

"We will be on opposite sides tomorrow, but i want you to know... I will always be with you, Y/N."

"I saw the way he looked at you... That's how I used to look at Sator before he became a monster in my life." Kat started, running a hand through Y/N's hair. "When I was lying on that stretcher and partially drugged with the medicines, I saw him beside you... watching you sleep. There was so much love in his eyes. Love for a lifetime, Y/N. So don't do this to yourself. The way he left hurt us all, but there was nothing you or any other agent could do to change what happened at Stalask-12. Neil saved the world. This gave us a second chance. You cannot give up now. This organization needs you. And keeping your mind busy at that moment is the first step towards a fresh start."

"N-No, I can't..." She broke the hug, shaking her head in denial. "I left the organization."

"What? Don't you work for Tenet anymore? But when we first met you told me that you can't imagine working in another area... And that this is your life's work."

"Being an agent is my life's work. I was in Yemen when Tenet found me and assigned me to this mission. My only job is to make this world a less hostile place, but the motto of this organization is not what I believe, Kat. What's happened's happened. Really? It doesn't work for me." Y/N ended the sentence with drops of anger in her voice and Kat did not say a single word.

Through the newspapers, Max's mother followed what was happening in Yemen over the years – a real endless war – and knowing that Y/N was in the middle of it, makes the situation unquestionable. People died in front of her eyes. Friends of the corporation. And then some time later, Tenet arrived with a fresh start, but in the end everything remained the same. She lost Neil. It is as if her life's work never had a happy ending because the world will never stop being a hostile place.

"He knows?" It was easy for Y/N to identify who she was talking about. The Protagonist. Or just TP.

"Here's another problem. I worked with him and indirectly worked for him at the same time! God, that man created this organization! And his name remains a mystery to us all!" She pinched the tip of her nose, feeling frustrated with all the secrets that haunt this organization. "And answering your question, yes, he knows, but he did not argue about it. I was a complete mess and he was not doing very well either... He stayed in my apartment for the first month, probably to make sure I didn't do anything stupid." And Y/N would be forever grateful for that. She likes him. Just as friends, of course. TP was a reserved man, but it was he who held her when everything was falling apart. "But we've had a fight. I blamed him for what happened at Stalask-12 and since then we haven't spoken anymore."

It was easy to see that they carried more pain than they could actually bear. Y/N lost her great love and the man lost his best friend. The situation just turned into a conflict between them and that was the result.

Realizing the sadness reflected in Y/N's eyes, Kat decided to change the subject of the conversation. Keeping that thought, she smiled and pointed to the painting on the wall. Maybe that could help.

"You seemed interested in this one."

"Oh yes, in my spare time I am a lover of art and its meanings. It is really attractive the way Ouroboros is connected to the Eternal Return..."

"And Amor Fati too." Kat completed, piquing Y/N's curiosity. This part was new to her. "It's impossible to affirm the Eternal Return without loving life. We need to learn that things happen as they do. Sometimes seemingly good. Sometimes seemingly bad. We don’t always get it our way... Unless we choose that whatever way it is, is our way. When we choose to Amor Fati, to love everything that happens, to love our fate, then we will always get it our way. Because the way it is, is the way it is. Unchangable. And therefore it must be good, even if it sucks."

These words touched Y/N's heart. This was a contradiction to what she is experiencing right now. Love your fate. She would like to understand and accept what happened, she really wanted, but why is it so difficult to move on?

Because Neil is dead.

That was the only explanation for her. The end of a relationship would be more acceptable. If he were alive, things would be completely different now. However, grief is overwhelming. How could she just accept what happened?

"I... I gotta go." That was all she managed to say before picking up her bag and leave the penthouse, ignoring Kat's protests.

When the elevator doors closed, an exhausted sigh left her mouth and the instant she saw her reflection in the mirror, Y/N wanted to cry again. After three months alone, she thought visiting her friend would be a good idea. Kat was willing to help, but the problem was that Y/N is not allowing herself to be helped. As soon as the doors opened, she left the metal box and found the hotel lobby partially empty. Her watch showed it was 3:13 AM, this explains the absence of people on the street as well. In front of her car, she searched the bag for the key and coincidentally her cell phone started to vibrate. Probably the text messages were from Kat, but confusion hit Y/N the instant she looked at the identifier and saw that the messages did not belong to any of her contacts.

Stay away from the car

They put a bomb

I'm on my way

Her first reaction was to take a few steps back and look around, trying to understand what’s going on and find the person responsible for these texts, but Y/N was alone in the dark street. When she thought it might be an unnecessary prank, a black SUV approached at high speed. The car stopped just a few meters away from where she was, but that was enough to make her body freeze.

"Y/N, come on!" The man exclaimed, the urgency in his voice would have made her run immediately, but she didn't move. Her feet had frozen on the floor. This cannot be real. "Come on, get in the car! We don't have much time!" He tried again, it was possible to hear the sound of the other cars approaching.

Y/N watched in slow motion the moment he left the car and ran towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

"How is this possible?" She asked in a whisper, completely lost in his blue eyes.

"It's good to see you too." Neil admitted, feeling his heart race. She looked so fragile in his arms. Very different from the last time he saw her. "We have to go." He accompanied her to the car and as soon as Y/N took the passenger seat, he returned to his seat.

For her this moment was like a fever dream, so she just looked down and started counting her fingers. One, two, three, four, five... Neil noticed, but said nothing, just kept driving. The cars were fast approaching, but he would do everything possible and impossible to get Y/N away from these people.

"Give me your cell phone." He looked at her for a brief moment, but when Y/N didn’t react, he wasn't sure if she heard it, so he just took the phone from her hand and threw it out the window. That was enough to get her out of the numbness:

"What the fuck, Neil?!"

Despite the adrenaline rushing through his body, the man laughed.

"If I found you because of your cell phone, they can too." After that, he crossed the red light and made a risky turn, trying to end this chase. "Before you ask, no, this is not a dream. Unfortunately this is very real..." Neil didn't like what he saw when he adjusted the rearview mirror. "And now they are getting ready to shoot us."

That observation put Y/N on alert and she looked back, seeing a man with an AKS-74U and another with a Beretta M12.

"If you knew it wasn't a dream, why didn't you bring an armored car?" She ran her tongue between her lips, smiling at the man beside her. Neil tried to argue, but she just took off her seat belt and picked up the Glock 19 stuck in the vest he was wearing.

Y/N crawled out of the car and sat at the window opening. This encouraged the men in the two cars to start shooting, trying desperately to hit her. Neil shouted something that she couldn't understand and then she felt one of his hands on her thigh, giving her stability to continue with the plan. With her arm resting on the roof of the vehicle, Y/N aimed the gun at the car that was closest to them. Her intention was not to start a firefight in the middle of one of the main avenues in the city, but she had no other option. Holding her breath, she fired the first shot and the bullet hit the tire, taking the car out of circulation. Y/N celebrated while preparing for the second car, but dealing with this one was not an easy task. Now they were in a tunnel and, consequently, losing speed because of the other cars that came along the way. Neil left two pats on her leg, indicating that she had better get back in the car and that is what she did. Screams, honks and gunshots echoed through the tunnel, turning the place into a war zone. Whoever these men were, Y/N knew they weren't going to give up.

Tired of playing cat and mouse, she went to the back seat, getting on her knees. Through the broken glass above the trunk, Y/N adjusted the aim of her gun, ignoring the sniper and focusing on the driver. With another accurate shot, the bullet hit the man's chest and he lost control of the vehicle. The car overturned for a while, streaking the asphalt, but no other car was involved in the accident. Y/N sighed in relief and looked for another possible threat, just checking, but when she realized that the area was clean, she returned to the passenger seat, leaving the gun on the dashboard in front of her.

"Next time I'm going to get an armored car." Neil comments, stepping on the gas. "Nice shot, by the way."

"Anytime." Y/N smiled, trying to control her breathing.

With the adrenaline disappearing from her body, it was hard for her to believe that this was really happening. For many nights she cried, wondering what it would be like if Neil just came back to her, but now she was afraid to wake up and realize that it was just another vivid dream.

The sun was rising when they arrived in a shed away from the city. Seen from the outside, the place was a little scary, but the interior wasn't that bad. There was some equipment like trackers, walkie-talkie, bulletproof vests, weapons, ammunition; a table with a mess of papers and on the other side two beds and something that Y/N supposed to be a private bathroom.

"Where we are?"

We. That simple word echoed in her mind. Y/N thought that "we" didn't exist anymore.

"For now in a safe place. It's dangerous for you out there." He answered the question and took a bottle of water, handing it to her after taking a generous sip.

"Who are these people, Neil?" She wanted answers, lots of answers, and that frustrated the british spy because for the first time he didn't know what could happen.

Neil had a mission and that mission ended with him dying in Stalask-12, but after what TP did, everything changed.

"We have a name..." He wanted to say more, he wanted to reassure her, but that was all he had at the moment.

Y/N drank some water and left the bottle on the table, looking at some reports and photos. All photos were of the same man.

Lenard Vaher

"But apparently they don't just want you..."

It took a few seconds and when the realization hit Y/N, concern appeared on her face.

No, not him.

"Where's TP? He's safe, right?"

"He was going to see you when Lenard's men kidnapped him. This happened three weeks ago." And considering the anger in Neil's voice, finding TP was proving an almost impossible task, but in the midst of so much concern, one point attracted Y/N's attention.

"You said he was going to see me..."

"There was something he needed to tell you." Neil sighed, resting his hands on the table. A few strands of blond hair fell over his forehead, but he quickly shook his head back, as he always did. "He returned to Stalask-12, Y/N."

After that statement, the only sound that could be heard was Neil's footsteps closing the distance between them and the first thing she did was put her hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat. Neil smiled. And that was not one of his famous smiles. That was a shy smile. His heart was beating like a drum and it was all because of her. Loving Y/N was something so special and pure, that Neil accepted his fate without a second thought. Saving the world, he was giving her a second chance to live, but now he is the one who received a second chance.

"I missed you every day." Before she could begin to consider the meaning behind his words, he settled his mouth upon hers, robbing her of thought.

She closed her eyes and melted against him, flattening her hands on his arms. Neil caught her bottom lip in his teeth, nibbling and licking at it until she thought she might perish from the intensity of the feeling. She whimpered at the sensation, and he rewarded the sound by deepening the kiss, giving her everything she desired. His tongue stroked hers, slow and insistent. A lush, decadent pleasure unfolded within them, snaking through their veins as though it had lain coiled in anticipation for years.

Just waiting for this moment.

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a/n – really hope you enjoy it and thank you soooo much for reading ;)

#neil tenet x reader #neil x reader #neil tenet #neil #robert pattinson #robert pattinson x reader #robert pattinson imagine #tenet fanfic #tenet imagine #ives tenet #tenet #neil tenet one shot #neil tenet imagine #robert pattinson one shot #neil tenet x y/n #x y/n #amor fati #eternal return

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sunatooru · 4 years ago

Note

Hello there👋👋

I think what i'm sending is kind of an emergency requests, but i hope you can write something like this.

So this past few months, i've been having an ✨existencial crisis✨ or smth like that. See, i was born with an ability similiar to synesthesia (i have sharp hearings, i can see these messy colors and shapes wherever and whenever i go, and i can tell who people are or wether they are lying or not). Thanks to that, i will always have a hard time sleeping (the migraines are terrible), my friends always becomes so wary, my family sometimes doesn't even see me as a human (i can't blame them- but it still hurts) and i don't like it when i know too much (especially when i was a kid) I always try to open up with my family, but that didn't work out. So i decided to learn to handle it all my self (my insecurities, anxiety, and negative thoughts) by listening to music, and daydreaming🤣 lmao. It doesn't always work tho- Can you write a scenario where the haikyuu boys would comfort me? (My fav character is Kageyama, Atsumu, and Bokuto, you can choose from anything, i just want to see some comforting action of the boys)

Hii, I’m so sorry you feel like you have to keep everything in and feel like you can’t talk to others about it. I hope these are okay xx

sorry for typos

Kageyama

He aware of your ability, and although he doesn’t hundred percent understand it, he doesn’t let it effect your relationship. But for you, you sometimes couldn’t help but feel different and the routine of keeping your feelings inside was getting harder.

He sees the way your grip your phone, headphones on as you nervously chew on the cord. When he hears you sniffle, he immediately gets up and stands next to you.

“Hey...what’s wrong? You can tell me.” He gets on eye level with you and he’s surprised at the slight red tint around your pupils.

He pushes your head onto his shoulder when you tell him. Rubs your back as he whispers into your ear.

“I see. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you, you know that. I know sometimes people can make you feel bad but you’re amazing. It can be hard but don’t burden yourself with those feelings. I’m here for you. You can tell me anything and I will try my best to help you.” He pulls away and wipes the tears at the corner of your eye.

“Come on, love. Let me see that cute smile. Do I have to attack you with pokes again?” He jabs the side of your waist and all around until your lips turn up.

“There, beautiful.”

Atsumu

It’s just another day where the people you’re closest to are tiptoeing around you. They knew about you and how overwhelmed you could get, yet, they treated like an ‘other’. It was hard already and those reactions only made it worse.

He walks into your room, arms open with a big grin, reading to tell you about his day. His lips start to move but he doesn’t speak. He narrows his eyes on the way you’re just staring into blank space, eating away at your lips with a frown.

He’s concerned. He approaches you slowly, softly resting his hand on your shoulder.

“Yer okay? H-hey, what’s with the tears? Why ya sad? Tell me!” He quickly wipes your cheeks clean, his body burning and ready pounce at whoever or whatever has made you cry.

When he hears what’s wrong, he lets out a heavy sigh, cradling your face as he wraps his arms around you.

“Baby, I know ya feel like that but you know it’s not your fault. If people can’t understand it then that’s on them. You try yer best and you’ve told them how it makes ya feel. Listen, yer amazing, beautiful and so cool. When ya feel like this again, come to me? I promise I’ll listen.” He massages your shoulders and kisses your forehead and smiles softly at you.

“I brought ya food!”

Bokuto

You’re both watching a movie but he realises you’re not actually paying attention. He was about to mention something about a scene and then saw you fidgeting with your hands.

“Heyy, is something on your mind?” He drops his smile and sees you biting your lip hard.

The minute he sees your eyes build up with tears, he pulls you into a tight warm hug. He sways you with him, rubbing your back as he coos in your ear.

“Please tell me, I want to help you. I don’t want you being sad.” He whispers, holding you tight when you tell him what’s wrong.

“I’m so sorry, you know I never think about you like that? I think it’s amazing and there’s nothing that could make me think less of you. I don’t feel uncomfortable about it and I’m sorry people make you feel uncomfortable about it.” He uses his thumb to swipes your tears away.

“Don’t think it’s a bad thing, I think you’re awesome. You’re so nice and pretty and that little thing doesn’t make you any less amazing!” He presses kisses to your cheek and then stands to pick you up.

“I think you deserve cuddles now!”

#emergency request #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #hq x reader #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio x reader #atsumu x reader #miya atsumu x reader #bokuto koutarou x reader #bokuto x reader

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t-lostinworlds · 5 years ago

Text

All Too Real (Tom Holland)

A/N: Well, this was longer than expected. I’ve had this idea in a while, and it feels great to finally do something about it aha. Also, I’m not going to tag my permanent taglist here since most of the people who are in there are for Shawn. BUT with that being said, tell me if you want to be added to a permanent taglist for Tom fics only or both Tom and Shawn. Am I making sense? Prolly not lmao but yeah. hope you guys enjoy this one!

Pairing: Tom Holland x Actress!Reader

Summary: You were meant to be acting, but the scene just hits too close to home that you've managed to say the wrong name, then everything just felt all too real.

Warnings: A bit of Angst and my usual typos

Word Count: 9.7k+

Masterlist in Bio

-:-:-:-:-

You didn't know who your leading man was until the very last minute, making it impossible to back out now.

Not only that, but you'd be risking a big opportunity if you decided not to take the part, the lead role to be exact. This was a big movie with big, well-known directors and it will guarantee to boost your career to the next level being that you're just starting off as an actress. This was your moment and you weren't going to jeopardize that just because of a personal reason. Plus, contractually, there was no turning back.

The movie was a mixture of crime, action, drama and romance, and it was already a given in the script that you'd be playing across a leading man.

You just had no idea it was going to be him.

Production starts tomorrow and you just found out that you're in a movie with non-other than Mr. Tom Holland himself.

Spider-Man to the world, ex-boyfriend in yours.

It was not public knowledge that you two used to be together. A very impressive thing being that your relationship lasted for about two years, yet not a single word got out. Nobody knew about you two except your closest friends and family, and both of you were happy to keep it that way for as long as you can until you both were ready to share your relationship with the world. But things happened and you didn't get a chance to do so.

You met Tom on the set of Captain America: Civil War. You were just a mere extra at that time as you were still trying to find your footing in the industry. He, on the other hand, had just finished his screen test with Chris Evans as he solely told you.

It was lunch time when this cute boy wearing this, almost a crossover between the Spider-Man costume and pajamas, went up behind you to grab some food.

You two talked for a little bit, asking about what you're doing here and all that jazz, until he charmed his way into asking for your number. And everything just kicked off from there really.

It was blissful while it lasted, the both of you, young and so in love. Nothing but pure happiness and adoration as your relationship took its course and blossomed into this wonderful thing. It was almost like a fairytale how lovely it was. So beautiful to see the joy in the two of you, even with those sweet little moments that you shared. That until the success of his first solo film as Spider-Man.

Him shooting the movie brought no problems at all as you were there to support him through and through. Hell, not even during the press junket where he's always traveling, that didn't cause any strain between your relationship as you've managed to make it work. But once the numbers started rolling in and the attention got bigger, that's where you got left behind.

You were still finding your way as an actress but you didn't seem to get the same amount of support from him as he did from you as time went by. He did at the start of course, he was your number one fan, but once he found his big break, you just got pushed to the side.

Somehow, in some odd way, a switch was flipped. He became distant, almost cold all of the sudden.

It was almost like he became too good for you in a way. Other people made you feel like you were nothing to him, that you weren't on his level and that took its toll on you. But the most hurtful part was that he didn't even bother to reassure you that, that wasn't the case at all.

There was this constant battle in your brain as you tried to reassure your own self with your relationship with him. That this was just nothing, that he was just busy, and that he loves you still. But clubbing out with friends most of the time doesn't really qualify as being busy now does it?

The logical part of you just keeps nagging that it was over. That there was nothing to hold on to, even if you hopefully wished there was something still there, that you can still save this relationship.

But no, it was all gone.

He broke up with you some time later. He said he wanted to enjoy life without worrying about anything, without worrying about you. He wants to enjoy his new found life while being single, in other words.

He was basically saying that you were holding him back, and to be honest? He was probably right. He made you feel that he was right.

The break up wasn't sunshine and butterflies at all. Voices were raised, words were thrown, and everything just burst into flames. When he shut the door and left, everything just turned to ashes, the remains of your heart along with your relationship. It was dark, cold and just painful to the point that you've lost yourself after that.

You took all the blame. All of it.

For months on end you kept telling yourself that if you were just good enough, if you were successful enough, then maybe he wouldn't have left you. You kept beating yourself up for something he has done and that never is healthy, telling yourself that it's your fault when in fact, it wasn't.

It took a lot of will-power to snap out of it, being that you are the most critical about yourself. But you've managed to push through, worked harder than ever before to get yourself out there and to make a name for yourself.

And here you are, about to star as the lead role of a big film.

You are far better than you were a year ago, definitely. But have you fully healed? No.

Distracting is not healing.

You kept yourself busy with your career and it has help you to not ever confront your pain. It was always shoved aside as you paid it no mind. You even avoided anything about him for that matter, in hopes that you wouldn't be reminded of that certain hurt that only he has caused. You've just been running away from it, running away from the demons of your past.

But now, there was nowhere to run.

"I'm so sorry I didn't tell you earlier Y/N. I just got scared that you might turn the role down if you found out he was going to be in it too and it's just a big opportunity and I can't live with myself if I had let it slipped away from you." Your manager rushed her words on the other side of the call, the concern in her voice clear because she knows. She knows what you went through with Tom.

"No it's okay Jeanne. I understand why you did it and I really thank you for that. Another thing I owe to you." You stated truthfully. If it wasn't for her, you wouldn't have had that extra push that you needed to get you where you are today. And you were glad you've found someone who only has her best intentions when it came to you and your career.

"I–uhm, am I shooting scenes with him tomorrow too?" You added as a whisper, despite the fact that you were alone in your hotel room at the moment. Scared that if you'd say it any louder, the pain in your chest would only grow deeper and sharper.

"Yes, he is going to be there tomorrow." She answered, empathy laced in her tone and you can just picture the frown she has on her face.

You bit your bottom lip as you stared up at the ceiling. This is going to be a hard movie to shoot that's for sure. But you're a professional; you can just brush it off like it's nothing. "Okay, yeah, okay. I'll see you tomorrow Jeanne." You breathed out.

"Get some rest hun. You've got this." And with that you ended the call, your whole body flopping down on your bed as you let out a frustrated groan.

The universe truly does have its ways in making you face the person who you have been avoiding—so successfully so far—in order to spare yourself the heartache.

With one last sigh, you pulled the covers over your body, waiting for sleep to take over so that you can have a much needed rest.

It was going to be a long day tomorrow after all.

* * *

Two hours was all you got.

Two hours of sleep as you lay restless in your bed just thinking about all the millions of possibilities on what could happen once you see him again for the first time after a year.

No matter how hard you tried to shut him out of your thoughts, he still managed to invade it even after all this time. The past was haunting you, he was haunting you and it was like you were back to that night again.

You feel so disappointed in yourself as you found your way back to old ways, crying about a boy who doesn't even give a single damn about you.

It took all the courage and strength in your body to leave the bed in the morning. A struggle to say the least until you slapped some sense into yourself and finally made your way to set.

You just arrived in the nick of time. It wouldn't be ideal to arrive late on the first day of shooting as you wanted to let them see that you are a respectful and respectable actress, so managing to be just on time, it was a great start of your day.

Even more so when you felt the hot cup of coffee warming up your fingers as you held it in your hands. The smell of freshly roasted coffee beans enough to boost your energy, especially with so minimal sleep.

There was no sign of him so far, and you were thankful to at least have time to breathe and just relax. No matter how little that time may be, you will definitely take it.

You've already met the Russo brothers who were both sweet and kind, both expressing their excitement to start the project that they've been so amped up to do.

After the casual chats, introductions and greetings, a young lady then guided you to where the trailers are going to be parked. Opting out of her offer to take you right at the door as you solely can manage yourself. But you also wanted some time to take in everything that you've seen so far because it was a big and amazing set, and just to take a moment to ground yourself in a way. Somewhat grasp every bit of alone time as you wouldn't have one until the end of the shoot, which was going to be later in the night.

You were on your way there when you suddenly heard something running after you, the sound of the pebbles rustling about growing nearer and nearer which was then followed by a loud bark. Surely enough when you turned around, you saw the prettiest dog, hurdling towards you with a wide smile on her face. That cute face that you'll always recognize from a mile away.

"Tessa?" You grinned wide as you squatted down to greet her, expecting a subtle encounter but no, she full on jumped on you making you fall flat on your bum. Genuine laughter erupted out of you as you tried to keep yourself sitting upright, all while making sure not to spill your coffee. You were sat cross-legged on rocks now but you didn't care, too preoccupied with the love Tessa was smothering you.

"Hi angel! How are you my love? You good? Healthy? Happy?" You gushed in a small voice, giggling when she covered your face in kisses, you not minding by one bit as you rubbed her belly in return.

You were too engrossed with Tessa that you didn't even notice that someone was already standing there, just watching, not until you heard your name.

"Y/N..."

You didn't have to look up to know who it was.

Having heard your name slip out of those lips countless of times, all on so many different occasions, there was no need for you to see who that voice belonged to.

It wasn't even above a whisper, but you heard it, the sound of longing etched in his voice, that certain tone that you've heard endlessly but only... only whenever he misses you.

And you wanted nothing more than to curse him out because how dare he? How dare he act like he cares when he didn't show any of that—not even in the slightest—that night he left you?

You were already filled with so many emotions and that's only from hearing his voice, you haven't even looked up to fully see him yet.

"Tom." You sighed, giving the back of Tessa's ear one last scratch before standing up fully, patting your jeans clean before gathering up the strength to finally look up at him in the eyes.

The way your heart stopped for a full second and then beat again but with twice the pace, never have you felt that in your life.

You stood frozen as you stared right into them, those brown orbs that once felt like home, but now only brings nothing but pain. And the way he was looking at you so longingly, it only added anger in the mix.

"Hi."

Tom knew he fucked up.

He knows how bad he screwed things up. He was fully aware of how much he's lost and how much of an idiot he is for being the reason of that in the first place.

You were finally standing right in front of him, in the flesh, in all your gorgeous glory, and Tom was at a loss for words.

He was talking to the Russos when Tessa suddenly bolted full speed. Not having familiar with the set yet, Tom was quick to run after her in fear that she might get lost, but he ended up finding her with a sight that was heartwarming yet heartbreaking at the same time.

He heard your laugh first. That familiar and beautiful sound enabling his heart to beat rapidly against his chest, even more so when he saw you sat on the ground with Tessa, nothing but pure joy and love radiating off of his princess, and the love that he once had.

The sight was beautiful, so endearing and it warmed him up inside, but it also reminded him of what it once was.

God he was a fucking idiot.

"Long time no see." Your voice snapped him back to senses, a soft blush coating his cheeks because he doesn't know how long he's been staring at you, but by the gods above you look absolutely breathtaking. Even in just casual jeans and a sweater.

"Yeah, it's great to finally see you again. You look beautiful." Tom breathed out, the last sentence escaping his mouth before he could even stop himself.

Tom might have been acting like such a creep but he just feels so happy to see you again. You probably wouldn't even believe him if he told you, not after what he's done, and he can't blame you. But he does, he truly does feel so happy.

"Thanks." You mumbled as you flashed him a smile. Whether it was genuine, Tom wasn't sure, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"How are you?" He asked just as he took a step towards you, but you were quick to take one step back and this made a frown form on his lips. The way you looked away and avoided his gaze, it stung, but Tom also can't say he didn't deserve it.

"I'm good, but uh, I need to get ready so uh—"

"Yes! Yes, of course, don't let me hold you off." Tom chuckled coyly, hand coming up to rub his shoulder, and just like that, the awkwardness in the air only heightened from there. Because after everything that has happened, Tom wasn't sure where he stands in your life anymore. Whether it be a civil friend or just a cast mate at this point.

When the Russos pitched him the idea, it was a no-brainer, Tom wanted to do the project right off the bat. But when he found out who the star of the movie was going to be? Nothing but pure excitement and much pride filled him up to the bones.

He has seen most, if not, all of the movies you've been in. Visiting your social media every now and then to see what you've been up to. It may sound stalker-ish in a sense but it's the only way for him to keep up with how you've been doing. And to see you grow and be the star that you were always meant to be? It was a beautiful thing for sure.

It might not have been as beautiful as experiencing it with you first hand, since he ruined that chance by a long shot, it was still heartwarming to witness—even if it was only via screen.

"Yeah, see you on set." You mumbled, giving him a curt nod before turning your attention back on the dog who was just sitting there, observing, tail on an all-time wag once she's seen that you've finally given her your attention again.

"I'm so happy to see you again angel." You whispered as you crouched back down to give Tessa a sweet kiss on the head, and Tom's heart completely melted at that.

You were there when Tom got Tessa.

He hasn't said it out loud nor broadcasted it in any way, but you became Tessa's mommy in the duration of your relationship. You took care of her while he was away on press or shoots, and he will forever be grateful for that.

Tessa was your baby as much as she is Tom's, and it now just dawned on him that he took her away from you. And Tom felt even more of an asshole than he already was.

You shot him one last look before you turned on your heel, not ever once looking back as you walked towards what Tom would only assume was your trailer.

Tessa was about to follow you but Tom was quick to grab her collar, squatting down to hold her fully to keep her in place because she was for sure putting up a fight. "No Tessa, you stay with me."

The poor pup whined once you were out of sight, looking up at Tom with those eyes emitting a soft sigh out of him. He nodded his head solemnly, giving Tessa's head a soft pat as his eyes slowly landed back on the closed door of your trailer.

"I know love, I missed her so much too."

* * *

Tom was watching from afar, he just couldn't help himself, but he doesn't exactly know which of you is which yet.

All he sees is there are two girls dressed in identical, all black and leather outfits, both have their hoods up with backs turned on him. He knows one of them was you and the other was your stunt double, he just can't seem to differentiate who is who as of the moment.

"Okay now Tom, you already know how the scene goes. The first time Detective Allan Spade, your character, meets Luna. They've known each other before so you are basically going to be surprised that the sweet innocent girl, who's your childhood best friend and then dated up until college was now a well-trained and elite assassin." Joe was the one to interrupt Tom's ogling since Anthony was at your side giving notes too. One of the perks of having two directors on set is that you can speed things up a bit. The set was built quite large so it definitely was a plus.

It was the first scene of the day and they were starting it off with an action sequence, one with cars, explosions, gun shots and the likes. It wasn't the first take for the rest but it was for Tom, being that they perfected some of stunts first, which was mostly done at the end of the set far across from him.

He didn't get to see who was doing which stunt because your character's costume has you covered in almost head to toe, making it impossible to know without having a closer look.

He was very excited though, maybe even too much that his mind sometimes flies off to somewhere—or rather, someone—instead of focusing more with the task at hand.

"Okay, yeah, gotcha." Tom nodded frantically as he cleared his throat. His arms were crossed over his chest as the heat rose up his cheeks once Joe looked at him curiously. "You okay? You seem a bit preoccupied?"

"Just a lil tired but I'm alright." Tom chuckled shyly as he looked down, the director only nodding as he added. "We're going to try and have one fluid shot with this scene so once you see her jump over the hood of your car, you quickly get out to your marker and aim your gun."

Tom hummed with a smile to let Joe know that he's listening attentively. The director gave him one last pat on the shoulder before turning back to the crew.

"Okay places everyone!" And with that, Tom got inside of a car that was hooked up to a wire rigging. It was only going one way but in top speed, so safety first is a must, hence why he isn't allowed to really drive it.

Tom already had his hands on the wheel, his head turning just enough to see a girl or Luna as he would refer—to which he assumed was your stunt double—hooked up to a trust and wires. She stood on top of a car that was situated in the middle of a chaotic road.

The sight was hectic enough with a number of cars littered everywhere—some overturned, some on fire—and a few bodies of supposed police offers sprawled on the pavement. Luna threw her hand up with thumb upturned to signal that she was ready to do the scene.

"Set and action!" And everything then just sprung to life.

Gun shots echoed throughout the space as explosions went off here and there. The car Luna was standing on drove full speed and came to a screeching halt in an attempt to shake her off. But the sudden movement only enabled her to jump off and flip right on time, so smoothly and with much grace. She landed on the ground with a roll, pausing for a second in a crouching position to let the camera capture the moment before she was full on sprinting again.

Tom's grip on the steering wheel tightened as he watched her approach, incredibly fast and nimble, dodging the cars and bullets coming after her with so much ease as if they were whizzing past her in slow motion, all while maintaining such poise in doing so.

With the signal, Tom stepped on the gas pedal hard, perfectly in sync as his car lurched forward in an attempt to catch her off guard, but just as it came right in front of her, she jumped and slid herself over the hood, landing down on the ground crouching.

Before she could even make another move, Tom had already gotten out of his car, the sound of the gun clicking stopping her in her tracks.

"Hands up where I can see them!" Tom growled, gun firm in hand as he slowly approached her, eyebrows furrowed as he glared at the figure right in front of him.

She stood up carefully with both hands held up in surrender, the silence in the air suddenly ringing as she turned around with her head hanging low, covering her face completely. That until she slowly lifted her hood off.

"Woah." Tom sucked in a breath, completely caught off guard as he stared at none other than star of the movie herself, you.

Sure, half of your face was covered with a mask, but he just knows it's you and it really took him utterly by surprise.

Tom genuinely did think your stunt double was doing this scene as the action sequence wasn't in anywhere near easy, but he'd recognize those eyes anywhere.

To say he was thoroughly impressed would be an understatement.

But knowing you for the time that he has, Tom knows how much of a hardworking woman you are. So seeing that you will likely do all of your stunts, it wasn't at all surprising to come and really think about it.

Still, Tom was speechless as he kept staring at you, and it was like there was no acting required as he slowly lowered the gun to see you more. His eyes not seeming to believe that it was you standing in front of him. Perfectly on script.

It felt so new to him seeing you in a different element, seeing you look even more beautiful and extremely sexy with that much tattered, faded leather and straps hugging your body.

You were wearing those long boots that stopped mid-thigh paired with shorts that were ripped on the edges, an almost gothic type of a hooded cloak swaying with the air, making it look even more promising that you can definitely kill. You look like you just came out of an Assassin's Creed video game, but more on the modern side. And instead of swords and knives, you've got guns.

Your eyes on the other hand were on a different level.

They were threatening to say the least. The glare was so intense that Tom actually felt like you were about to hand his ass over to him. Those sweet eyes he's grown to adore was masked by this menacing and dark look and he just keeps getting more impressed as he goes on. He wouldn't want to meet you in this state in an alleyway—or anywhere for that matter—that's for sure.

He definitely hasn't seen you like this before and boy was it making his head spin, and dare he say it, it was making him feel all hot.

You were fully in your badass mode and Tom wasn't sure if he was scared or extremely attracted, or maybe even both at the same time.

"And cut!"

And then you giggled.

Tom has let go of a girl who can definitely do both. As if he wasn't a big enough idiot already.

"Was that good?" Your voice was muffled by the face mask you were wearing, but Tom can just hear that wide smile on your face. You really just had to make him soft by being all cute and sweet again.

Oh you were giving him a whiplash that will surely be the death of him.

"Nailed it! Both of you!"

"Really? And, uh, can I have some water please?" You giggled shyly, only sparing Tom a second of a glance before your eyes was back on a girl who brought you a bottle of water.

This made him frown involuntarily, curios eyes looking at you as a certain pang hits his chest.

She's still mad at you and rightfully so.

Tom ran a hand through his hair with a sigh as his eyes casted itself on the ground. He was starting to go deep in thought as to what he should do to make things clearer for the both of you, but he got interrupted when Anthony approached him to give a few notes and directions for the next part of this scene.

So Tom just shoved his thoughts to the side and decided that when the time is right, you two will get to talk eventually.

* * *

It was the last scene of the day to which you're a little bit relief by. You were pretty much drained to the bone and you can't wait for the day to be over. But with one downside: it's also the scene that you've been dreading the most.

It was a flashback scene of your character and Tom character's falling out. It was sort of the last straw to break her completely that would then be one of the reasons that pushes her to become an assassin right after everything in her life has gone to hell.

It wouldn't have been too much of a big deal if it wasn't near what happened with you and Tom. But the case was, it was almost as identical as the night you and Tom broke up.

What a way of the universe to joke.

There were a couple of different scenarios sure, but the whole idea and vibe of the scene? It was like it was taken from the books of your very own life.

The set was whittled down now, the setting a residential area with an empty street in a cold night. You were out of your costume and in a simple knee-length dress and a denim jacket along with a pair of sneakers. A beanie sat atop your head as your hair fell down your shoulders freely.

It was tough trying to get into the headspace, as this was a heavy scene with so much crying involved, but it doesn't even take too long when all your mind could think of was that night.

"You okay?" Anthony asked as he furrowed his brows at you, concern written on his face as you've managed to look extremely crestfallen.

"Yeah, just getting into the zone." You laughed awkwardly, your heart getting heavier by the minute especially when you caught a glimpse of Tom approaching and then stopping just beside you.

"You've been incredible so far with all the action Y/N. But this scene in particular, I want you to channel all your deep emotions. You character has been through so much, loss of a father, an addict mother, the society looking down at you and then the only person who you trust and love starts to change and turn his back on you." You only nodded at Anthony's direction since your mind was already there. You've already experienced a few of the things your character has, so it wasn't hard to tap into those emotions.

You can feel Tom's stare just burning a hole through the side of your head, but never did you spare him a glance. You aren't sure if you're strong enough to keep your tears at bay. Probably best to just save it for the scene.

"You Tom, you've just gotten popular with the crowd, new friends, and people seem to love you and you only see her as like a hindrance to your joy because she starts asking for your attention. You kinda see her anger at you as her not wanting to see you happy or her being jealous of your success. You've been blinded by a lot of stuff so you become a jerk to her basically." It would be funny to think that Anthony was basically telling Tom to act the way he acted that particular night, but none of you were in the state of mind to find even the smallest humor in the situation at hand.

"Yeah okay, yeah." Tom cleared his throat, the tension in the air getting thicker by the minute that even Joe had to butt in. "Are you two okay? You both look like you've seen a ghost." The older brother asked as he stood beside Anthony.

"Yeah!" Both you and Tom almost squeaked in unison. You can feel the heat rush to your cheeks as you forced a smile. "Never better." You breathed out.

Tom was still staring at you; you can just feel it, and you so wished he would just stop. It wasn't helping your case at all, especially when he's got those messy brows furrowed by the looks of it in the corner of your eye, indicating that he was deep in thought.

"You guys have the freedom to improvise your lines, don't be afraid to stray away from the actual lines on the paper but make sure that you don't necessarily change the scene."

Without further more questions, you were finally ushered to your places. You kept your eyes on the ground while you stood in front of a screen door, hands in the pockets of your jacket as you shifted your weight from one foot to the other.

"Ready and action!"

You grabbed the screen door open as you slowly made your way inside. Different colored lights were flickering around as few people gave you looks because everyone knows you weren't invited to this party. You acted unbothered but your eyes were telling a different story.

Reaching the living room, the couch was where you saw him. He sat comfortably with arms outstretched on the back of the sofa, a girl right closely beside him as they whispered to each other's ear, rather too flirtatiously.

You stood there and watched as she got all too friendly with her hands, trailing up and down his chest as he didn't bother to do anything about it. Tears were welling up your eyes, but you willed yourself to stay focused, even if it wasn't necessarily full on acting as it was quite a familiar sight to see.

And with the cue, Tom looked up to meet your gaze and you held it, just long enough for the camera to pick up. The expression on his face was quick to change as he stood up abruptly. That was your indication to leave, so you turned around and rushed out of the house, the camera following closely behind you.

You were now on an empty street as he ran behind you, the set eerily quiet letting his footsteps echo loudly against the wet pavement. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you kept your head low, holding the tears in since it wasn't time for that yet.

"Wait, just wait a second. It's not what it looks like." Tom rushed as he grabbed your arm, but you shrugged it off and kept on walking, making sure not to take too long of the strides for you not to miss the marker.

"Of course it isn't." You scoffed with a roll of your eyes.

"Just listen to me will you?" He called out in exasperation, but you didn't even bother to turn around and give him a look. "I don't want to listen to you anymore. Just go back and have fun with your so called lady friend." You said dismissively, seeing your mark to be one step more and once you reached it, and he reached his, his voice boomed.

"Why are you being such a bitch?" You stopped in your tracks and slowly turned around to finally face him, a look of absolute hurt written on your face as his only showed nothing but pure frustration.

"I can't do this anymore." You whispered with a shake of your head, blinking away the tears as you looked up at the dark sky.

"Can't do what?" Tom scoffed as he took a step forward but he kept a good distance, eyebrows furrowed in anger with his arms crossed over his chest to seem intimidating, and it was working. You knew it was all acting, but it just looked so believable that it took a sharp swing at your heart.

"This, us, you. I can't deal with you and your stuck up attitude anymore." You gestured between the both of you and then all of him, voice cracking as you willed yourself to keep eye contact. It was so hard to stay in character and balance your emotions at the same time, because the way he was looking at you, was the same way as he did that night he left.

Tom looked away with a sarcastic laugh. "Oh so now I'm stuck up? What did I do wrong this time?" You shook your head in disbelief at his words. "So many things, you're just too blind to see it."

"Then lay them the fuck out!" He snarled with one step forward, eyes boring furiously into yours that it almost made you take a step back. But you kept your ground, glaring at him with the same intensity as you threw your hands up in the air.

"Fine! You want me to lay it out for you? You've changed! Now that you've found your way in life and found a new group of friends suddenly you're too good for me. Suddenly you're mister successful while I'm the trash who follows you around." You barked back, his resolve wavering for a little bit as he grumbled. "You know that's not true."

"But it fucking is! You make me feel like I'm nothing compared to you! I'm your girlfriend but you can't seem to spend even a minute with me since you're out with your new friends a lot. And if you do give me a spare of your time you get mad for no goddamn reason! It's like you don't even want to be near me! Like I'm a disease to you and your new life! You think so highly of yourself now that you act like I'm some low class person as if we didn't grow up together!" The accusation in your voice was clear as day, and the way Tom's jaw clenched to show that you've hit a nerve, it scared you.

"Then maybe you should take the hint to do something better with your boring life so you can stop messing with mine!"

That was when you lost it. Any sense of what's real and what's just an act, you lost it.

"Start doing something with your own goddamn career and life and stop meddling with mine Y/N! I'm so sick of your shit!"

Your brain started to spiral out of control and suddenly you weren't on set anymore, you were back at the apartment, head in your hands as you cried your eyes out, the loud bang of the door slamming shut ringing in your ears.

A single tear ran down your cheek as you stared at him in shock, breath caught in your throat as you felt your whole body tremble. You struggled to form your words, your eyes shutting tight enabling more tears to run down your face as you breathed out. "I have always been there for you. All I ask is for you to be there for me too." It sounded like a plea, soft, desperate but very painful that Tom almost broke character. Almost.

"It's not my obligation to carry your failures for you." He stated with so much venom and ice that you could only nod defeatedly, lips quivering as you held his gaze for one more second before your eyes casted itself on the ground.

"That's not what I meant but fine. I will not be a burden to you anymore." Your voice sounded so small and frail, and it was taking everything in your power not to snap, to just walk away for it to be done. But he just had to have the last word now didn't he?

"So now what you're just going to leave and give up on us?"

You don't know what it was but something in his tone or words triggered you. After a year of bottling it in, months on end of it slowly reaching its boiling point, you finally blew up. You took a step towards him as you gave him a hard shove, the sudden action catching Tom totally off-guard making him stumbled back.

"Yes! Because I'm so fucking done! I'm so done with thinking every single day if I will ever be good enough for you!" You sobbed, the tears free falling down your face but you didn't care as you continued to yell at him.

"I gave you everything that I had! I was there for you day in day out! But you still treated me like shit! You made me feel like I didn't matter to you even in the smallest of ways and that fucking hurt so bad because you mean the whole world to me! You pushed me aside like we didn't went through anything! As if all our memories together was wiped off your brain and that hurts! It hurts to see you look at me like I'm some stranger, like I'm someone you hate so much even if I didn't do anything wrong to you! I've done nothing but love you. I—I loved you so much and all you did was hurt me in return. No matter how hard I tried, it still wasn't enough because you left me! You broke my heart when you said you'd take care of it. After all of your promises you broke all of me Tom!"

Tom froze at the mention of his name.

The anger on his face was quick to dissipate, replaced by a look of nothing but pure guilt. Tom's heart broke completely as he watched you break down in front of him, so vulnerable, so hurt, all because of him. "I–"

"No! You're not getting the last word this time. I've had enough. I am done." Your voice broke at the end of your sentence, turning around hurriedly and ran off shot, leaving Tom standing there frozen and stunned.

You covered your mouth to try and muffle your sobs, attempting to run back to your trailer to escape the prying eyes but Anthony stopped you, hands resting gently on your shoulders as he held you in arms-length. "Y/N, are you okay?" You shook your head no, your tears pouring even more at his question.

"Can I have a minute for some air please?" You stammered, vision blurry with all the tears but you still saw Anthony only nodding, eyebrows knitted in concern. "Go, take all the time that you need."

You breathed out a soft thank you and ran, back to your trailer, slamming your door closed and flipping the lock as you collapsed on the floor.

* * *

It took Tom a minute for everything that has happened to wrap around his head. Your words repeating itself over and over and he wanted nothing more than to beat himself up, black and blue.

He knew he hurt you but he could only just imagine how much, up until he saw your eyes as you looked at him with nothing but pure betrayal.

The pain in them were so real and Tom knew at that moment that you weren't even pretending anymore. You weren't acting but reliving that night again, he can just see it in your eyes. You weren't addressing him as his character, no; you were addressing him as himself, Tom Holland, the guy who broke you to pieces.

Tom should've just scrapped everything and held you. He should've said fuck it to the scene and just pulled you in his arms. But the thought crossed his mind a moment too late.

He stayed in his place completely still before he was snapped out of his state when Joe approached him, the director's face painted with confusion and concern. "Tom what was that? Is there something going on between you two that you're not telling us?"

Tom didn't bother to answer his question as he looked around set, the worry in him increasing when he saw no sign of you. "Where is she?"

"I think she went back to her trailer. Wait where are yo—"

"I'll explain later." Tom called out as he ran out of set. He needed to find you and set things straight. Tom needs to tell you the full truth, tell you what's he's been feeling the past year. He wasn't going to let himself make the same mistake twice.

* * *

Sobs raked your body as you rest your back against the door, knees held to your chest in a curling position. Your eyes burning with your lungs as you cried and cried, because even if you tried to stop, you just couldn't. You couldn't find the will to erase the thought of him leaving you. That image has burned itself in your mind and it hurts, so fucking bad and you just want it to go away.

A whine from the opposite side made you lift your head up from your knees, eyebrows furrowing together once you heard it again, but louder this time. "Tessa?" You sniffled, and she barked in confirmation, scratching at the door in an attempt to get to you. Your frown deepened at the sound of her crying on the other side. She knows fully well when you're upset, and she will do anything to be beside you no matter what. It was such a sweet thing she does. Tessa's been there beside you whenever she finds you crying, she was your comfort buddy, and today, that still hasn't changed.

You stood back up to undo the lock to let her in, ready to have her hugs and kisses because they always make you feel better, but when you pulled it open, you weren't only greeted by her, he was standing right there too.

Before you could even slam the door shut he had already pushed the door wider and made his way inside, shutting it just behind him, and you made sure to step back, putting some much needed distance between you two. Of course he did. Tessa was in his trailer, there was no other way she could've gotten out without his help.

"You are a fucking dickhead for you using Tessa as bait Tom." You growled in pure annoyance, wiping away your tears aggressively as you wrapped your arms around yourself, avoiding his eyes at all costs as you stood right beside the couch where Tessa was laying down, just watching you with attentive eyes. You gave her a soft pat, distracting yourself from the man who stood there.

"I just need to talk to you, and I know you won't open the door if it was me." He was making his way towards you, but you were quick to hold your palm up, stopping him in his tracks and only making it halfway. You couldn't bear to be near him, at least not yet. Tom nodded, staying in his place as a soft sigh left his lips, "Please–"

"There's nothing left to talk about Tom." Your voice was hoarse, tears still falling down your face but not as much as before. "Yes there fucking is." He argued, desperation running through him as he tried his luck, taking another step forward. Tom just wants to be near you, to hold you and he almost shouted in glee when you didn't stop him.

"What do you want from me Tom?" You whispered, willing yourself to look at him, but only for a split second, because you couldn't bear to see his face without bursting into full on sobs again. But still, you saw it, the sadness in his features, and your walls were slowly cracking.

Tom kept inching closer and closer, and he was both relief and scared because it seemed like you weren't putting up a fight anymore, like you've somehow given up.

You were tired, both emotionally and physically, so you didn't bother to take a step back once he grew nearer. You were tired of running, maybe it was time for you to finally face him.

"I just want you to hear me out, please." Tom whispered, shaking hands slowly reaching out to hold your arms, and you let him. You let him touch you, the heat of his palms comforting you in some odd way. He was so close now and you know if you did as much as look up, you'd see nothing but his eyes, so you didn't, you can't yet. You glued your gaze on the ground, just seeing the tips of his shoes almost touching with yours, it was that close.

"You had time before to reach out Tom. Why now?" Your voice was low but broken, a question that's been in the back of your head the moment he set foot inside your trailer. "Because you looked happier and I didn't want to ruin it. I thought that you were better off without me."

You let out a sarcastic laugh, probably making you look like a complete lunatic with the tears covering your cheeks but you didn't care. Of course you look happy on screen. You had to. To fool the world and yourself, but it was always a lie, what you've shown online was just a glimpse of your life, not the full truth. "Well, clearly, I wasn't. Aren't you?"

"Fuck no. I wasn't happy without you. I know you probably won't believe me but I wasn't Y/N. I will never be better off without you." You only sniffled, still shaking your head, still not believing his words and Tom can't blame you. But he needs you to hear what he has to say, so when you stayed quiet, Tom took this opportunity to just let out what he's been holding in for how many months now.

"Darling I'm sorry, for everything that I've ever done and said to you. Fuck I know sorry doesn't even cut it but I am, I truly am sorry for hurting you my love." You let out a soft whimper at the nickname, eyes shutting tight as you shook your head at him. "Tom please don't–"

"No, no, I need you to hear this Y/N." Tom's hand went up to brush a hair behind your ear, then coming down to hold your chin up for you to look at him. It already hurts him so much just seeing you cry, and it stabbed his heart repeatedly just staring back at your pain filled eyes, the glow in them snuffed out and replaced by this broken soul.

Tom took one shaky breath before continuing. "What I did was horrible, and I know that it won't be easy for you to forgive me, and I understand if you won't ever. Hell I can't even forgive myself for what I did. I was stupid, fucking stupid for hurting you like that. I was a completely idiot for leaving you. You didn't deserve the way I treated you. You didn't deserve to get hurt like that at all. If could go back in time and take everything I said back, I would. The things that I've said, I didn't mean them, truly. I was so blinded, I was angry and got carried away, but still that's not an excuse. What I said was not okay, and it will never be. And I truly am sorry darling, I truly am."

Tom's voice broke at the end of his sentence, his heart clenching as he tried his best not to cry. He couldn't bear the thought of hurting you like that, it pains him just thinking about what he's put you through. The sheer amount of guilt and heartbreak was swallowing him whole and fast. Then there was also anger. He was so angry at himself for doing that to you, but what's done is done. The only thing he could do now was think about what lies ahead, hopefully, with you back in his arms.

"Y/N, I want you to know that... no, I need you to know that I still love you, I've never stopped loving you." Tom couldn't stop the tears from escaping his eyes, his bottom lip quivering as he spoke the words. The sob that you let out only broke his heart even more, your firm hands pressing against his chest as you tried to push him back. "No no no, you're just saying that. You don't mean that. Please don't lie to me Tom, please don't."

Tom shook his head as he bit his bottom lip to suppress a whimper. Both of his hands finding its way up to cup your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb as he pressed his forehead against yours. You kept your eyes shut tight, not finding even the smallest of strength to open them to see his face, looking at you so longingly.

"Look at me, baby, look at me." He pleaded, wanting you to see right through him, to look into his eyes and see the truth.

You took a few deep breaths as you wrapped your trembling fingers around his wrists, forcing yourself to open your eyes and gaze into his tear-filled brown orbs.

"I'm not lying to you. I love you, gosh I'm still madly in love with you Y/N." He breathed out with so much emotion, his words coming out as a soft whisper, but the truth was there, strong and firm for you not to miss it.

And who on earth were you kidding? Of course you still love him, you always have. And for the first time in a year, you let your heart take control over your brain; allowing you to push yourself up and let your lips capture his in a kiss filled with need and so much passion.

Tom was quick to kiss back, strong arms wrapping around your form as he pulled you closer to his body, his head spinning at the feeling of your warms lips back on his own after so long. Your fingers were lost in the mesh of his curls, the kiss wet due to a few more tears but neither of you cared because it felt like it belonged, like you two were finally home.

"I missed you so much." Tom groaned against your lips, walking you back slowly until you've reach the bedroom of your trailer, a slight confusion washing over you because the couch was right there, not that you're in a hurry or anything but... "Why–"

"Tessa." And with that he kicked the door shut, his action an enough answer because as much as you love the dog, she does have a habit of disturbing. A sweet giggle came out of you and Tom felt his heart melt at the beautiful sound, especially when it was filled with nothing but genuine amusement.

But that giggle was soon replaced by a soft gasp as Tom dipped his head to bring his kisses down to your neck, his hands pushing your jacket off your shoulders and letting it fall down the floor. That was when everything in your head got clouded, his lips on your skin a good enough distraction for both of you not to think straight.

Your hands found its way under his shirt, a shiver running down Tom's whole body because they were cold, but not for long. He shrugged his own jacket off and pushed you further back, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed allowing you to fall down the mattress with a soft thump. Tom pulled his shirt over his head and didn't waste a second more as he crawled on top of you right after, lips back on yours hungrily as he situated himself in-between your legs, your dress hiking up when you wrapped them around his waist.

Your fingers were tracing up and down his bare torso, Tom smirking between the kiss as he felt you run it over his toned abs. You bit his bottom lip as a warning to not be cocky, earning a deep groan from him, his hand coming down your thighs to give them a firm squeeze, the temperature in the room only getting higher as the clock ticked by.

But before any of you could take it a step further, a loud knock echoed itself on the whole trailer. Both of you wanted to ignore it but a voice soon then followed. "Tom, are you in there?"

The boy groaned as he buried his face on the crook of your neck, the two of you completely forgetting where you are as of the moment. Tom took deep breaths to calm himself down, your fingers running through the back of his head, playing with his hair as you did the same.

Once Tom caught his breath, he spoke, a hint of annoyance coating his voice. "What is it Harry?"

"They're looking for the both of you."

Tom sighed, propping himself up to look at you fully, beautiful face all flushed and he couldn't have seen a more gorgeous sight. "Be out in a minute." He called out, never letting his eyes off of you as if you'll disappear if he does, even for a split second. You didn't dare to move nor let out a single word. You just stared right into his eyes, so many emotions swimming in them but one that made your heart grow is the clear look of love, and for once, you felt safe under his gaze, safe and home.

"Come home with me tonight?" Tom asked shyly, fingers tracing your jaw in a loving manner. You thought about it for a second, all the doubt suddenly rushing back to you along with your brain just yelling at you to be extra careful, and you knew you just had to clear your head first before jumping right in the deep end. "Tom, I think I need to thin–"

"I know darling, I know. But please, just give me tonight. After that, I'll give you all the time and space that you need." You sighed knowing fully well you can't ever resist him, closing your eyes for a moment before nodding. A breath of relief escaped Tom's lips just as he presses it back on yours, but this time it was soft and sweet, kind of like a reassurance that he will be right here until you fully take him back, no matter how long that would take.

Tom unwillingly pulled away before things get heated again, standing up fully as he grabbed his shirt off the floor along with his jacket and slipping it on. He turned back to you with a sweet smile, offering both hands for you to take, interlacing your fingers in his once you did.

"Come on, we've got some explaining to do."

-:-:-:-:-

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old-school-butch · 4 years ago

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I'd like to ask..

As a radfem, how do you negotiate being butch so to speak, considering the history between the lesbian feminism of the 70's and butch-femme culture? I feel so connected to butch-femme but at the same time I feel like an outsider as a radical feminist when the limited butch-femme community I've seen has been very "progressive" and anti-terf. I feel saddened by the fact that the people who share my political views are the ones who denounced what I hope(d?) to be my way of loving.

And also.. reading Boots of Leather, Slippers of Gold recently kinda hurt my heart because.. although I'm strongly aware that the idea of butch as a type of male privilege or oppressor role is completely false and flawed, reading about the violence towards and control over femmes that butches started to cultivate in the late 50's makes me feel so conflicted as a radfem. How can I know myself as being part of butch-femme culture and embrace the history of those before me without excusing the violence that the butch identity once encapsulated?

I found it so difficult to read the nonchalant accounts of partner violence from butches of the bar-scene and it made me feel ashamed if that makes sense.. how do you feel comfortable and proud identifying as butch when historically this was linked to violence, while being a feminist? How could a femme lesbian have historically identifed as such without being complicit in her own pain?- not for staying in an abusive relationship but for supporting and being proud to be part of a framework in which she was almost required to be submissive and treated like her partner's property.

And of course there were likely to be "bad apples" who did these things on an individual scale, but for butch history to include a period of time where control was glorified and expected feels so horrible. Even though things aren't the same now it's difficult to think about and acknowledging/denouncing what happened doesn't make it better. At my age I do not know anybody who calls themself a lesbian (too old-fashioned), and so I'm looking to the past rather than the present for community and for lack of a better word, validation. I am finding it hard to have pride in this past as radical feminism seemed to have ridiculed femme, and femme seemed to have "allowed" herself to be treated with inferiority (can provide examples if needed from BLSG).

( note: please excuse any typos as I'm on mobile, and sorry for the long ask/vent, I didn't know who else to ask this and it's been on my mind a lot since reading BLSG. finally to clarify, this is not a call-out post against butch-femme, rather a call for help. thank you for reading! )

-please only publish if anonymous, am using alt account-

I haven’t read BLSG, but it’s based on interviews conducted in 1993 with 45 women in a narrow demographic, and with a specific agenda of using these narratives to support the researchers’ thesis that working-class, American butch-femme couples were the ‘roots of gay and lesbian liberation‘. Take everything in there with a good amount of salt. May I suggest some more primary source reading for you? Try anything by Joan Nestle, and the deliciously melodramatic Beebo Brinker series by Ann Bannon. These works provide some more authentic snapshots of people being people, in an era where being the kind of people they were, was very difficult.

I’m not saying that women aren’t complex and sometimes abusive, or that we don’t internalize our societal values - of course we do. And lesbians in that era were often out of work, living in fear, with horrible rates of addiction and mental illness - I can well imagine life was less than ideal and relationships were strained even on a good day. But in an era where there was no national gay or lesbian media, where gay people were socially invisible... there was - by definition - no gay culture per se. Even as visibility increased in the 1970s, that publicly-facing community still would have represented a tiny fraction of the overall population. There’s a reason that the ‘coming out’ story is the single, common thread of narrative in our culture - it’s the only near universal cultural experience.

It’s true that radical feminism has a long standing critique of butch-femme culture, it always struck me as a bit pedantic when the official ‘right’ way to be was ‘androgynous’ - which looked a lot like butch-lite to me. But they are correct with the overall critique of gender - and I’m actually somewhat surprised that fewer radfems today critique butch and femme identity. In some ways, they laid the groundwork of some of the gender nonsense we see today. However, radical feminism has it’s flaws too. We echo society’s scorn for women when we denigrate women who enjoy feminine aesthetics and can fall into a form of victim-blaming and over-critique. The calls to take self-defence classes and work in trades got much more play than the movement to pay wages for housework. The feminine values of caregiving and empathy are so thoroughly exploited that feminism itself struggles to accept them as essential to human society.

Anyway, I call myself butch because it’s what stuck from all the many things I’ve been called, most of them unflattering. If I describe myself as butch and then meet someone IRL, they aren’t surprised at what I look like. However, it’s not prescriptive to me, just descriptive. Not ‘a way of loving’ as you had hoped for. At the end of the day, you have to find your own path, and let other people lay their labels at your feet without confining where you leave your footsteps in the sands of time.

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versdan · 5 years ago

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Better Than That (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Summary: You knew it wasn’t your place to say anything or judge but you did it in the sake for love

A/N: This is for @a-simple-imagine ‘s writing challenge! congrats again doll! I’m super psyched for this fic, ya know me and my angst lmao. I hope you guys enjoy & sorry for any typos!

pairings: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Song: Better Than That - Marina (my Queen)

lyrics are bolded & italicized!

please don’t plagerize/repost my work! x

———

You’re just another in the long line of men she screwed

Just another in a long line of men she knew

“You should stop seeing her ya know” you blurted out to Bucky who choked on his drink. He put his glass down and turned to you.

“I’m sorry?” He questioned as you just gave him the side eye and chuckled to yourself. To say you were tipsy was an understatement. You both were at one of Tony’s many elaborate parties and to pass the time you decided to get drunk at the bar because you didn’t want to be there really. Your best friend, Bucky, decided to join you because one you were alone and secondly, his date, Jessica, didn’t show up.

“You heard me loud and clear, buckaroo! She’s done loads of things that you don’t know about” you said, nodding your head while taking a sip from your drink that now tasted like water. Oh no.

You had developed feelings for Bucky a while back and you knew you shouldn’t have but it’s like, who can’t? He’s a sweetheart and after he had allowed you get close to him, you only fell harder for the soldier and there was no going back.

Jealousy grew in you when you heard about Bucky going on blind dates planned by Sam and Steve but it was his life and he seemed to enjoy it. So you decided maybe if you did the same, you could forget about the crush you had for Buck. But boy were you wrong. Every date you went on, the guys were either jerks just trying to get in your pants the first night or just went on the date to get close to your co-workers.

When you heard Bucky had started seeing Jessica, you felt a pang in your chest. It only hurt more when you realized it was the same Jessica you had known in college who had, well, quite the reputation of being a player. One of your first instincts was to tell Bucky about her but he seemed genuinely happy with her and you didn’t want to hurt him in any way so you let it be.

But tonight was the night your drunken self deceived you and let all your true emotions out about how you truly feel about his situation with Jessica.

Oh yes she did, yes she did what she wanted to do

Like all the boys before, another dream come true

“And what are these ‘things’ you’re talking about?” He asked, putting up air quotes to emphasize things and you only looked back at him with a straight face before bursting out with laughter. He felt embarrassed asking so seriously but it seemed as if you weren’t fully airing out what you wanted to say.

You shook your head, finishing your drink and waving down the bartender for another drink while Bucky looked at him and shook his head ‘no’. The bartender nodded his head to him making it seem like he was nodding his head to you. You turned back to Bucky and looked him in the eyes, thinking about whether you should tell him or not.

Bucky on the other hand was nervous about what you were going to say. You meant so much to him it almost felt like he was losing you a bit. You became more reserved ever since he had started seeing Jessica. He found it a bit odd but didn’t question it at all until now.

You oneof the first people Bucky was able to fully open up to besides Steve and he holds that connection close to his heart to the point that he started falling for you, unknowing to your knowledge. While you were jealous of him going out on dates, he was jealous of you pulling the same moves yet furious at the same time whenever you had a bad date and would come home crying after another horrible date. Who couldn’t love you or even want to take you on another date? You were everything put into one package and he wanted you all to himself but he was just too scared to admit it.

It’s a power, it’s a power, it’s a power move

And while, I’m not quite sure what she’s tryna prove

“Well, here’s the sitch” you chuckled at your own joke before seeing Buckys serious expression. You cleared your throat before continuing. “I know Jessica kind of personally but not close enough to call her a friend really” you said, hiccuping at the end.

“She was known for pretty much sleeping with a lot of people and taking girls’ boyfriends just for one night stands” you said, looking down at your empty glass before looking back up at Bucky who was looking at you to continue.

“She slept with my roommates boyfriend and when she confronted Jessica about it, she laughed in her face and basically said she did it and didn’t feel bad for hurting her relationship” you told him, not being able to read Buckys blank expression.

He sat there shocked, feeling almost odd to know about her past but then he felt a bit of rage. Were you just telling him this to bring down how happy he felt finally having someone? A part of him was thinking that’s as irrational to think but the thought couldn’t help but he brought up.

They all say she’s got low self-esteem

So, why is she looking like the cat who got the cream

“I had thought graduating college, it would just stay as like a college thing, everyone would move on with their lives but I still would hear about her, going on from guy to guy. I never paid mind to it until now because, well” you stopped, burping and motioning to Bucky “she’s with you” you finished. The words fell from your mouth with a sad tone and you couldn’t help but feel a wave of sadness wash over you now finally saying it out loud that you had lost your chance to get Bucky.

Bucky just looked at you before turning to face the bar, finishing off the beer left in the bottle. He didn’t know what to feel or even what to say to you. Rage was almost fully sweeping over him and the part of him that wanted to rationalize with you and what you just told him.

“Bucky?” You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder to which he brushed off. Pulling your hand back, you felt like you had done something wrong. “Whats wrong?” You asked and he turned to look at you sharply which made you sober up a bit, still a bit dazed at what was happening.

“You’re just saying this to make me feel bad for being happy aren’t you? Just because you can’t get a guy that’ll stick doesn’t mean you can make me feel bad once I’m finally feeling good” he spoke, harshly still looking at you. Immediately he regretted his harsh tone.

Ouch. You scoffed, looking at your empty glass, regretting your decision to even open your mouth and cursing mentally at drunk you. Looking back up at him you gave him a tight lipped smile.

“If this is what I get for trying to protect you, then fuck me right?” You said, standing up from your stool, stumbling a bit backwards. Buckys arm outstretched out of reflex but you swatted it away.

But you, you can do better than, you can do better than that

Picking up your clutch, you started to make your way to the elevator before Bucky grabbed your arm.

“(Y/N)-“ he started but you pulled your arm away. You stood still, feeling people walk around the both of you as you just looked at him, chuckling a bit.

“You know Barnes, maybe the reason why I couldn’t land a good guy was because I set my standards up so high. So high for them to be like you.” You paused, continuing to look at Bucky before turning to the empty table next to you and grabbing the bottle of champagne that was there. “Can’t blame a girl for trying, right?” You finished, turning away continuing to walk to the elevator, leaving Bucky there at the party, alone, just like you were earlier in the night.

————

feedback is appreciated!

fuck I lovE HOW THIS CAME OUT!

#bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #the winter solider oneshot #the winter solider imagine #winter solider x reader #winter solider imagine #winter solider #the winter solider #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan #winter solider oneshot #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #avengers x reader #avengers #gigglygwil bucky

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greywindys · 5 years ago

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I had a fic I was working on for 2Doc week, but it betrayed me and turned angsty when I wanted something softer. So instead, I thought I could share a fic I never published, and I believe the first fic I ever wrote (dated in Google as complete on June 17th, 2016. Holy moly!)

It fits into day 3′s prompt of firsts - the first night the spent together on good terms. The beginning of the bond, I guess. It could also be considered the first head massage (lmao), as I like to think 2D is good with his hands in various scenarios 😉. (I adapted the head massage into scenes in later fics, but this was the first time I worked with it as a concept.)

If there are any “M” or “D” I apologize! When I was starting out, I was too self-conscious to write their entire names (lmao @ me). Oh, how things have changed. Hopefully, I corrected them all, along with most of the typos...

The rating here is T. Essentially, Murdoc encounters 2D late at night when he can’t sleep, and ends up watching a movie with him. They begin to form a tentative bond, head massages are had as much needed sleep. Takes place during P1.

Also happy bday again, Murdoc 😭

For Murdoc, sleeping is a daunting game of chance. First, there are the good nights, when he drinks enough to remain in a complete stupor until daylight. Then, there are the bad nights when his body’s need for genuine slumber catches up with him. On these nights, he dreams. More often than not, they come to him in the form of nightmares ranging from painfully specific to vague and unsettling. Like a flood, all of the emotions and thoughts he had intended to leave behind in Stoke return.

Tonight is one of those nights.

This one, in particular, is the reason he’s left the grimy safety of his Winne, head still aching. He intends to rummage through the studio mini-fridge for the half-consumed bottle of rum he started that morning. (after all, his anxiety wasn’t going to fix itself). Instead, he's thrilled to discover the fridge has been restocked, and he's about to grab an unopened bottle of rum when he's interrupted by a crash coming from the direction of the lobby.

The noise is coming towards the kitchen now in slow, shuffling steps. Murdoc presumes it could either be one of the wayward demons he summoned the other day, or it could be another one of the building's many intruders looking for a blank wall to vandalize. Nothing he wants to deal with now in his anxious state. Murdoc considers making a run for his Winnebago but decides against it. ‘You’re Murdoc Niccals” he thinks to himself, ‘Bass god and creative genius. You're not ten anymore and you don't get scared.' With that, he braces himself and he turns to face the unknown figure that was now in the doorway.

“Oh...Hi, Murdoc.”

It’s 2D.

“I've got half a mind to lob you through another car window,” he says trying to mask his surprise. “What the hell are you doing walking around with the lights off in the middle of the night?” That must have been the source of the noise. Typical. It’s as if 2D is intentionally searching for a way to get injured.

2D scratches his head. “No need to get so steamed up about it. I, uh, well, I guess I was trying to keep to the ambiance and all that. I didn’t think anyone else would be awake right now.”

“I don’t know what’s so unexpected. I get more done in a night that you would in a year,” Murdoc replies. He takes a sip of one of the bottles of rum he’s assembled on the counter. “So long as there are still songs to write, the siestas can wait.”

“Not sleeping well then?” 2D asks blithely. Murdoc can’t tell if the singer has seen right through him or failed to comprehend a word of what he just said. He finds him very unreadable at times, and in the most infuriating way.

“No. I was working. Being productive. You ought to try it once in a while,” Murdoc grumbles in response. “Anyways. What’s all this about the ‘ambiance’?” As if 2D is that deep. “And why here?”

“That new zombie movie, you know the one I was telling you about? Well, it arrived today,” 2D says with a grin. “And now I’m watching it. It’s a lot scarier when you do it the dark.”

“Well you have a TV, no, THREE TVs in your room,” Murdoc retorts, exasperated. “Just go away and watch it there.”

“Yeah, uh, l thought about that, but the special effects in this one are supposed to be wicked good and the screen in the lobby has a clearer picture than the screens in my room. I would have watched it this afternoon, but Russel said Noodle shouldn’t be watching all the blood and guts, so I waited until now. It’s better watching scary movies late at night anyway, you know?” 2D is looking at Murdoc now, a tinge of hopefulness in his voice. “A couple blokes on this forum I was reading were describing it like a Romero meets Raimi type film, really over the top.”

“Sounds like a real Oscar winner you have there,” the sarcasm in Murdoc’s voice is palpable.

“Actually, it was a straight to video release, but you should check it out,” 2D says. “I’m only about ten minutes in now...if you have...time,” he trails off awkwardly.

The band had faced many inexplicable and absurd situations, but it is 2D’s consistent attempts to be friends that confounded Murdoc the most. His first inclination to tell the singer to fuck off. Yet the thought of the solitary journey back through the car park gives him pause. He isn't sure he can handle being alone right now. He needs an immediate distraction, a mood lifter, and making fun of 2D has the potential to be a two in one solution. At the very least, it was a safer gamble than going back and running the risk of falling asleep again.

Murdoc makes 2D wait for an answer in uncomfortable silence before replying. “Fine,” he says, “This better be entertaining.”

2D brightens at his response. “Just let me grab some snacks and then we can go back.”

“Yeah, yeah. Oh, and this time turn on the damn lights.”

With some newly acquired light and a bag of crackers in hand, 2D leads Murdoc to the lobby. A collection of pillows and blankets litter the floor. All the while, and to Murdoc’s annoyance, he takes the time to tell him every detail of the conception of his setup. He had been in the lobby for the past four hours watching movies. According to 2D, doing so in such an open area was much scarier than in his room or even in the building’s cinema. He was also sorry because they would have to turn the lights off again when the film starts. “Because well, you know, Muds. The ambiance.”

“Just start the bloody movie will you,” Murdoc replies from his spot on the floor. The size of Kong is intimidating at night, and it’s not helping him calm down. He hates how much his dreams still affect him. Physically, he had left all the bad energy behind ages ago, but mentally it follows him like a low-hanging mist, threatening to completely engulf him daily. He couldn't seem to make it go away, but he could control how much he thought about it. Alcohol was typically his mainstay but right now, that job belonged to an unwitting 2D. If he didn’t start the movie soon, Murdoc was going to set his entire movie collection on fire.

“It’s the little triangle that does the trick, right?” 2D asks as he studies the remote. “Never mind. I think I have it. There we go.”

The scene starts with a group of young adults in their twenties hiking through the woods as night falls. Occasionally, the camera switches angles. It shows the group from alternate perspectives such as the bushes or the tops of trees.

“The director wanted to flip the whole slow zombie portrayal on its head,” 2D explains. “There’s already been talk of fast zombies in the indie horror community, but he wants to take that one step further. In an interview, he said that not only were his zombies going to be fast, but they were also going to fly.”

“That’s stupid. And you thought this was worth the twenty or so quid you blew on it?”

“He’s ahead of his time. You’ll see. Look,” 2D says through a mouthful of crackers. He points to the current scene. One of the protagonists had wandered away from his group in search of a good place to set up camp. “See what he does with the camera there? We’re watching the main character from the perspective of a flying zombie. The director wanted to make a movie about an outbreak that emerges in the wilderness, not because of some virus. It's meant to add to the impossibility of the situation. How do we fight against something not man-made? Watching the film through the eyes of the monster emphasizes how alone and insignificant we are in the face of well, everything. Man versus nature, nature versus man.”

Murdoc grabs the bag of crackers from 2D. “Oh please. This is hardly cutting edge. We all know they’ll all be dead in the end because nature is bigger than man. Duh.” He takes a handful for himself and continues watching.

2D ignores him and continues his reflection. “It makes me wonder whether it would be better to be a zombie at the end, rather than survive. Not sure I would want the loneliness that comes with it.”

Murdoc is beginning to realize that 2D is in one of his chatty, philosophical moods. He attempts to tune out the singer’s blathering with another drink from the bottle of rum he brought with him from the kitchen. He came here to watch a ridiculous movie. Instead, he's stuck listening to banal musings about the true nature of humanity from someone with a half-functioning brain.

“Well if there’s ever a zombie apocalypse here, I’ll be sure to let them eat you first if you’re so eager. You’re already halfway there anyway, and certainly no better off than these divs on screen.”

“Thanks, Muds. If I ever get infected, I’ll make sure not to bite you...unless you want me too,” 2D replies.

This time, it’s Murdoc's turn to ignore him. “Anyways, as far as I’m concerned, anyone who’s too pathetic to fight against a zombie apocalypse deserves whatever is coming to them.” He gets a twisted sense of comfort from blaming.

“I dunno...I don’t see any shame in being afraid of a monster bigger than you. That’s what makes these movies so scary. We all have our own monsters that seem impossible to overcome,” 2D says sagely. “It’s not anyone’s fault, it’s just how it is.”

Murdoc scowls. “Does watching movies at this hour always turn you into a half-braindead Socrates? Or Plato? Hippocrates? He's just naming names now. He fidgets.

On-screen, another character screams as one of the zombies bites her arm.

“Are you alright there, Muds?” Why did 2D have to pick up on everything? “Movie too scary for ya?”

“No!” Murdoc snaps. “It’s not that… It’s just...” Neither 2D nor the rum he grabbed from the fridge earlier had done anything to dull his current bout of nerves. Instead, all the tension has been gathering at the base of his neck. The throbbing in his head from before is even worse. He groans in frustration.

“You just seem a little on edge, that’s all.”

“...It’s my head.”

“Oh, you have a headache,” 2D says, seemingly pleased that it’s an issue well within the breadth of his expertise. “Do you need any help with it? I was talking with my mum about mine just last week; she gave me something good.”

Murdoc perks up. He could count on one hand the number of scenarios where he would place his trust in 2D. Pain medicine was one of them. A strong painkiller could change everything. “Do you happen to any of those buggers with you now?”

“Sure,” 2D says, smiling as he moves closer to where Murdoc is sitting.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m um, well for this to work I’m actually going to have to touch your head.”

Immediately, Murdoc jerks away. “You what?!”

2D shrinks back in response. “It’s just a head massage, Muds. My mum’s worried about the number of prescriptions I have so we cut one of the stronger ones out and replaced it with this. We wanted to see if it made a difference. I’ve been going to a massage therapist for the past two weeks or so. It doesn’t quite do the trick but it works well enough, I picked up some technique myself, uh, I think.”

“You can take all that geeky zen rubbish and sod off,” Murdoc mutters.

“Okay, Muds...alright.”

They continue watching the screen as victim after victim gets infected. 2D continues to interject with overlong descriptions about symbolism, zombie lore, and film technique. Murdoc weighs his options. If he’s being honest, he’s at a point where he would accept anything that might make him feel better. But why did it have to be 2D? On the other hand, the singer wouldn’t stop talking. Considering it was just the two of them, and no one else would ever have to find out, Murdoc makes his decision. Allowing 2D to touch his head in this scenario was justified. Interrupting yet another explanation about the folly of man, he asks, “Hey uh...2D? You know that massage you were talking about? Will giving me one make you shut up for more than ten minutes?”

“Oh..uh,” 2D sounds surprised. “Yeah. Yeah, we can give it a try.” Hesitantly, he moves behind Murdoc and begins.

2D’s fingers send tiny sparks along Murdoc’s scalp as he kneads the muscles in his forehead, moving downwards along his hairline. He dwells on how amazing it feels but pushes that thought to the side with haste. He keeps his eyes locked on the screen and the excessive depictions of gore and chaos. It’s an apt representation of turmoil he is currently feeling inside. What he finds so maddening about 2D, even more than his inscrutability and empty-headedness, was his willingness to be kind to Murdoc. Murdoc had spent the past twenty or so years convincing himself that kindness was not meant to be a part of his life. There was something inherent to his existence that repelled it from him. And he had come to accept that until 2D had to come along and mess it all up. It had to be because he was just too stupid, there was no other answer. Murdoc wasn’t sure he would be able to handle any other answer.

As 2D moves his hands to the back of Murdoc’s head, he begins softly humming. He begins following along to the soundtrack of the movie but soon trails off on his own. Evidently, watching the movie without any sort of verbalization was not going to happen. However, the melody he’s come up with is wistful and soothing. Murdoc makes a mental note to ask him about it in the morning to see if it would fit with some lyrics he had drafting. Slowly, and a bit self-consciously, Murdoc feels himself begin to relax.

“How does it feel so far? Is it working?” 2D asks.

Oh, it was working. More than that, Murdoc realizes a significant amount of his tension had abated. The darkness of the lobby no longer looks so menacing, the unpleasant memories that were hovering over him seem to have floated away. He's never been able to settle himself down from a bad night without copious amounts of alcohol. It’s an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation.

“I think the movie is almost over. Didn’t quite live up to the hype but it was still pretty entertaining after all. How about you?” 2D asks, still looking for a response.

Murdoc yawns. “I’ll give this director you were so excited about some credit. He knows his way around a good death scene. I don’t think I’ve ever seen fake blood used that way before.”

“The fake blood actually cause a lot of controversies because some of it was real animal blood. I almost didn’t buy it myself.”

“Ah. A man after my own heart.” 2D’s hands are still kneading the back of his head when Murdoc moves to lie down on his stomach.

“Oh, are you going to sleep now?” 2D asks.

“No. Keep going.” He would have never considered it earlier in the night but, as the singer's fingers continue to run through his hair, Murdoc muses that sleep may not sound so bad after all. Even though it was just 2D, it’s comforting to have him there.

“So I guess it’s been helping then? My mum will glad to hear,” 2D says. “But you might want to run a comb through your hair a bit more often, it’s all greasy...also a bit tangled in the back.”

“Just...shut up.”

So he does, returning to the reflective melody he had been humming just minutes ago. It’s the singer’s soft croon that sticks in Murdoc's mind as he finally drifts off completely.

-------

When his eyes open, the first thing Murdoc notices is the half-empty bottle of rum he had left by his side. The next thing he notices is that he's still in the lobby, surrounded by blankets. He must have slept there the entire night.

“Oh, morning, Muds,” comes a familiar voice just to the right of him. “You’re awake.”

Turning quickly in the direction of the voice, Murdoc finds himself face to face with 2D. “What the hell are you still doing here?” M demands, mortified, “Why didn’t you go back to your own room?”

“Well, I was going to do that, but once you laid down, I wanted to lay down too, and you rolled over on my arm and wouldn’t budge. I tried to tell you, but all you did was try and elbow me. You missed though,” 2D mumbles. It sounds like he’s still half asleep. “Then I guess I just nodded off.”

Murdoc feels his embarrassment beginning to morph into anger but decides to ignore it. He's pretty comfortable right where he is. “You’re lucky you’re my lead singer.” 2D was also lucky that he gave good head massages. “Because otherwise, you would be on some really thin ice right now.”

“We’ll be lucky to see any ice at all this winter what with all the warm weather.”

Usually, an obtuse response from 2D would have earned him a string of insults or a swat on the head. Today was not going to be one of those days. Murdoc turns again so that he’s facing away from the singer, pulling the blanket over his head to block out the light. He was going to savor the moment a bit longer. Despite 2D being 2D, it’s rare that he’s ever felt so at peace.

“Hey, Murdoc? Wait,” 2D says, “You never gave me my arm back.”

“Too bad. I’ll check back in a couple hours,” Murdoc grins beneath the blanket. He still couldn’t pass up a chance to inconvenience the singer at every opportunity. It was too much fun.

“Don’t be such a wanker,” 2D says as he attempts to jerk his arm out from underneath the bassist. “I was nice to you!”

He was right. And he was probably nicer than he deserved, given their history. For that reason, Murdoc would roll off his arm soon enough. He still wanted to talk to him about that song he had been humming.

The singer had surprised him last night. Murdoc knew that 2D had an uncanny ability to figure out how to annoy him to maximum effect, but he never would have expected him to also know what to do to put him at ease. Underneath the covers, he ponders what exactly this realization means to him. He isn’t sure, but he knows it means something. It wasn’t going to eliminate the underlying resentment he still clung to, nor was it going to solve his infinite list of issues. But at the very least, he could rest assured knowing that he wasn’t completely alone.

#ficpost #2doc week 2020 #it's interesting to reflect on what's changed #anyhow! just a little thing to close out the week

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