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thepinkdreamganjaqueen · 1 month ago

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Subway Obsessions Arthur's POV ch.1

Arthur Fleck POV x Fem!Reader

Masterlist 🩷

Summary: From Arthurs POV. It's just another night on the subway. A typical ride on the Gotham train on his way home from a long day of running errands and away from his tedious depressive thoughts. Perhaps he would catch a glimpse of the woman he could only seem to catch in passing, the woman he’d been secretly watching, following, fantasizing about nightly. Perhaps the unending misery that is the city above had him thinking of change, of something new to obsess about. Something to draw his mind away from the blistering and the mundane. Would he finally get the courage to talk to her?

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, public exhibitionism, subway cruising, swearing, stalking, obsession, mentions of violence, fem!reader, romantic smut, fluff

A/N: Beginning to a series? Who knows. May add things later. First fic, btw! I'm hyper fixated now, so expect more. This is something I've been mulling around with for a while. I've done this story from both the readers' POV and from Arthur's because I can't get enough!! So, make sure to read both! I loved writing from this perspective so much, btw! Literally! Send ideas, edits, etc. my way!! And be nice please. The first chapter is mostly fluff/ descriptive plot/character building. Cheers! Enjoyyy!

Word Count: 3.9k

SERIES: Subway Obsessions

CHAPTER 1: Chance Meeting

Today was another mundane day. Arthur had been out earlier in the evening running errands for his mother. Picking up T.V. dinners at the grocer and medications for him and her at the local pharmacy. Still, getting around the city was a chore in of itself. He figured the subway would be the easiest and quickest way home. It was nearing 10 o'clock pm. His mother would be worried, and it was getting late. He knew the dangers of roaming Gotham city at these hours. His mother used to say, "That's when the colorful people come out." A way to make something serious, completely unserious. Still, he knew the dangers and tried as hard as he might to keep his wits about him. Easier said than done when you're a man with a neurological disorder, apparently so many people hate you for. He wished they’d understood or tried at least.

He always pondered why the people of Gotham were so... well so mean! Everyone he encountered save for the very, very few were just assholes to him. Perhaps it was the political climate? With Thomas Wayne running for government placement, it probably didn't help. Make the rich richer and the poor poorer he thought. Perhaps it was the state of the city itself, the infrastructure, the lack of resources. He sure has been on the wrong end of that stick one too many times. "Good people suffer Happy," his mother would say. But he never understood why it had to be that way. Life was circumstantial. He didn't ask to have what little he did. He didn't even ask to be born and thought life was the real joke.

It doesn't have to make sense to be funny! He jested internally. Because its fucked! And there lies the comedy for those broken enough to see, yet perhaps healed enough to laugh at the pain. Because, what else can you do?

His mind wandered through these endless fields of thought when a train car stopped in front of him. He had been standing on the platform disassociating for some time. Perhaps he even forgot where he was for a moment, ruminating over the wrongs of life and playing them out differently in his head. The things he didn't say or do, what he could have done differently...

The brisk hiss and click of the air brakes as they screeched to a halt brought him back to reality. He blinked a couple of times, waiting for the doors to open. As he did, a disheveled looking figure pushed past him while exiting. He burst out in a cry of compulsory laughter and stepped on the train. He was in the last car and immediately noticed it was bearable, as bearable as riding the subway can be he postulated.

In his search for a seat towards the end of the train car, he noticed a large putrid looking spill in the back. It melted off the seats and slid across the aisle. It looked sticky. Best to avoid that then, he thought. He opted for a bench seat away from the offending area and sat down, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back, arm outstretched on the head of the seat next to him. No one was in this car except for him. He found a moment of solace and drank it in, filling himself with the noiseless satisfaction of silence and peace when a warbled voice broke over the loud speaker. He couldn't really understand it, but the semblance of words spoke what sounded like “platform 19”. It was all he could understand through the robot whine. He felt anticipation rising within him.

At approximately 10:15 p.m., the doors of the subway train broke open with a gush of cold night air. At the other end of the subway, he watched as a woman stepped onto the train like a fawn. Scared and unsure of where to go or sit. She was bright and colorful; she immediately caught his eye. Was this what his mother meant by colorful people? He thought to himself. He quickly realized it was her! The girl he had fantasized about daily and nightly, hoping to catch her on the train but only seeming to in his thoughts and dreams, remembering her face, her scent that penetrated her surroundings. He had tirelessly followed her the first time he saw her. She was the only person to smile at him that day. He had to know more and had to know why. But she wasn't always on the same train. He always hoped to run into her and had almost given up, thinking she must have been some sort of hallucination he created for himself to lessen his own pain. But there she was.

She looked different tonight. She looked like a predator, displaying colors brightly in the face of possible danger. She was a force; he felt the atmosphere change as soon as she stepped in through the steel doors, a thickness lifted in the air and he could feel himself tense in his seat. His clothes were suddenly uncomfortable, his collar too tight, his hands, sweaty. She always looked beautiful when he saw her, she always looked content and comfortable. Hair in a messy bun with strands falling about her face swayed by the wind that surged through the train car. Sweats he could still make out her figure through, leaving him wanting more every time, it drove him crazy! But today she looked like she was straight out of the films on the TV! He thought to himself. She made him think of glamour, it's the only word that truly fit, like the old films he would watch with his mom. Wow! Was she a sight to see, a cool pristine liquid flowing over his burning eyes. A soothing image of pure proclivity. An unknown sense of calm swept over him.

He watched, frozen, as she cautiously observed the train car searching for a seat. He looked at her from top to bottom. She was significantly smaller than him, petite, probably around five feet three he gauged. Fuzzy black boots, blue jeans tightly hugging her figure, full thick thighs, his mouth began to water - he thirsted for her, wanted to drink in her every essence. He felt a lump in his throat as he tried to choke it down. A tight black shirt under a small cropped pink sweater with red hearts all over. It perfectly displayed her large soft breasts. Brown curls bounced about her shoulders as she walked, strands of them fell daintily on her face and cheeks. As she walked, she would flick it away with a quick movement of her head. The way she did that, moving her hair out of her face without using her hands. It made him tingle in all the right places. His mind raced. What else can she do without using her hands? he thought.

There was something pink in her hair too, he saw as she walked past. She didn't notice him at first. Most people don't he thought to himself. Although this thought disappointed him, he didn't fault her for it. He had the urge to make her notice him. To be a presence and to be objectified by her, he only wished he could hold that kind of power.

As she passed, the scent he had come to know as her- wafted past him, he sucked in through his teeth sharply. It was heaven on earth. Stimulating. He would follow that scent hoping to find her, mercilessly searching. It was like a drug, an aphrodisiac, and he felt his cock spasm. She was eyeing the seats towards the back where that odd spill was. A butterfly he thought. It's a pink butterfly in her hair. He immediately felt like a school boy again, fawning over and wanting to get the attention of the pretty girl and for her to return it.

"This one's fine!" He blurted out, not really knowing what he was saying. She turned around, her beauty, dark, striking, and he found it hard to speak again. He stammered and was able to get the lump out of his throat to follow up with; "I don't know what that is back there but these are not so bad" his voice felt cracked but he tried to contain his composure, he didn't want to scare her off. He was the only other person on the train, and it must have jolted her since she didn't see him at first. Plus, she probably thinks I'm some kind of creep or weirdo, he thought to himself. There was some truth behind those thoughts, but that didn't make him a bad person, he thought. All day, he spends trying to have a nice day to make himself and others happy, trying to think good thoughts, trying not to let the bad influence the good he can salvage.

"Oh, thank you!" A sweet voice broke the monotony of thought, and immediately he was flung back into the present. She made her way to the seats laid out in front of him. A row of sideways seating. He watched her sit gracefully, slowly, like a calculated ballet dancer, he thought. Every move fluid, every move perfect. When she sat, she arranged her things on the seat next to her and settled in. He wondered to himself where she was going. Why she had so many bags, why she was riding the subway so late, as a woman, she should be terrified. This city is not safe, especially for someone as strikingly beautiful as her. She was like a beacon of light, too bright to stare at, but he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame and simply couldn't resist the allure.

She actually sat next to me! He thought. Only one seat away, actually next to me. But that wasn't all. She saw him, noticed him, heard him, and listened to him. The weight of these simple gestures made his hands sweaty, and he tried his best to remain aloof. The doors of the train opened on the other side of her, and a breeze blew her hair behind her and over her face. He couldn't help but see her, every aspect of her. He studied her every move, every inch of her body. He wanted this to last, for this image to never leave his mind.

The wind that blew past her carried on it her scent. He was suddenly overwhelmed by the sweet alluring scent of peach? No. Some kind of berry? No. When the doors shut and the pressure created another breeze, the scent wafted to him again. Taking it all in, he identified the smell as watermelon. Some kind of fruity smell filled his senses with the feeling of euphoria. It was intoxicating. He wondered what it would be like to be pressed up against her, inhaling her deeply. He looked down with a deep sigh when he looked back over. She was moving a strand of hair out of her face and caught a glimpse of her looking at him as well. Her cheeks flushed instantly, and she broke her gaze. She was fire, burning too hot near him, and he wanted so badly to play, to burn himself, engulf himself in her flames breathlessly.

He tried to come up with something to say, anything. How do I talk to her? What would I even say without sounding stupid? He thought. He watched on as the florescent lights above her flickered. It lit up parts of her he hadn't seen upon first observation. Glitter decorated her collar bones and cheeks. Her sweater was slightly unzipped. He could see the peeking out of her cleavage. Sparkling with glitter, so pretty, she reminded him of the stars of the night sky. Unmistakably beautiful, yet so. Far. Away. He had been working up the courage to say something to her, to hear her voice again, he didn't want to forget it. A symphony replayed in his mind. He needed more.

He stumbled over his words, "Sorry, I-it's hard for me to talk, I meant to introduce myself. I'm Arthur, " he said in the kindest, most unassuming voice he could muster. She looked up and locked eyes. They burned his insides like hot coals. He anticipated her reply, not knowing if she would even engage in conversation with him. "No worries!" She spoke in a reassuring way that made his heart flutter. "I know how it can be, trust me!" She sounded genuine. Kind. There was something underneath her voice, though he couldn't quite conceptualize. Fear? Doubt, maybe? He wanted to take it away.

"I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you, Arthur!" Again, her voice beaming so light and so lifting. She reached out to shake his hand that he had offered. Her hand was small and was practically swallowed by his. Her fingers were warm, sweeping softly over his palm as she grasped his hand in hers. It's a simple thing, he thought. It was a small touch, but it was enough to make him crumble inside. She felt so nice! "Y/N," he said. "I like that." He lamented. Such a beautiful name. But everything about her was beautiful. Her presence was wholesome and welcoming. Is this real? he pondered. Thoughts took over again, and not knowing how to continue the conversation, they sat in silence for a moment as he worked up the courage to speak again.

Moments passed that felt like a lifetime, but he was content in her presence, soaking up her aura. As he went to ask her a question, she moved to speak as well. Catching each other off guard, Arthur profusely apologized "No it's okay, go ahead," he said, not wanting to interrupt her. "No, no, that's okay, what were you going to say?" She insisted back. Her voice was small and mousey, she seemed so shy. Why would she be? She screams confidence and power. Even in her apprehensive movements, she seems calculated, he thought to himself. He stole another glance at her. Her eyes sparkled reminiscent of a smokey quartz gem in a bracelet he once saw in a shop window. A thought of her adorned in nothing but gems crossed his mind. He tried to hold onto the image before it left his mind's eye. He felt a flush in his cheeks again, and his eyes darted. He couldn't look her in the eyes for too long. It made him nervous. He was working up the urge to speak again, to say something, anything.

He broke the silence and asked, "So what brings you to ride the subway so late at night? Aren't you scared?" He uttered jokingly. After saying it, he felt immediate stupidity. Why would I say that? He thought and started an inner spiral. As if seeing his reaction to his own question and wanting to ease the tension building within him, Y/N said, " Well, I work at the Gotham shelter overnight. So, having to ride the train every night, I guess, I've gotten used to it for the most part. But, yeah, I do get scared sometimes. The city can be super sketchy, and I've been attacked twice already, so I had to buy mace and stuff to try and protect myself."

The words spilled out of her mouth like a wave of glass, he couldn't fathom her ever saying this of all things, it was jolting for him and triggered something within him he had tried so long to hide. His mind raced. He felt anger and rage well up inside of him it hardened his sternum and burned in his throat. He became stiff but was unaware. The spiraling began to start again. This city was ruining people, hurting people, good people! He thought. She helps people, and then people hurt her?! Pieces of shit! He screamed internally. The emotions he felt were at war within himself. He felt rage for her pain and suffering at the hands of this city's denizens, he felt fear for her life knowing she rides the train every night, he felt regret, why couldn't he have been there to help, to do something? He all but took the pain on as his own, it soaked through to his core. He too had been at the mercy of some of the worst people he has ever had the displeasure of encountering in this god forsaken city, he too had been attacked, hurt, mercilessly tortured by these fucking terrible people.

Lost in his train of thought and looking straight ahead he couldn't help but sternly say in sympathy "These people are just fucking terrible!" She must have noticed his change in demeanor at this declaration. He suddenly felt a warmth cross his leg, and lightly squeeze. It was smooth and comforting. His concentration broke completely. Pulled out of a trance by her as if the thoughts were just zapped out of his brain. His eyes quickly darted back to her where they followed the length of her shoulder, to her arm, and from her arm to her hand that rested upon his thigh. He felt the muscles in his face relax, his shoulders dropped, jaw unclenched. The sheer power she had over him he thought. The warmth emanating off of her palm was like security, a blanket of nostalgia. He couldn't remember the last time he felt what felt like love, like connection, or attachment. He couldn't help but see flashes of images in his mind, her moving her hand closer to his cock which had began to throb. He tried to brush away those thoughts but they plagued him. She was touching him. Something that never happens to him. He immediately craved her touch, he wanted more, he wondered how that would be possible. He thought this couldn't be real. Not this time.

Once again, breaking his thought pattern she spoke, and he gave her his full attention. "Yeah, but I'm ok now!" She said in a reassuring tone. Her voice, like petals on velvet. Soft, gentle. "You're here now! And so, I feel safe." Safe? He thought, with me? Like she trusts me? He could feel the negative thoughts start to brim to the surface of his mind but quelled them by responding instead. He needed clarification. The words she spoke just didn't make sense to him. He couldn't see why she would or should trust him, although he so badly wanted her to, for this to be true, he needed it to be. He suddenly felt the urge to never leave her, to always be by her side. He would watch, he would follow, and he would do anything for her.

He only imagined what it would be like to know her both romantically and intimately. "You feel safe? W-with me?" He spoke haphazardly, unsure of the answer he wanted to hear, hoped to hear. "I do." She looked into his eyes sincerely. His heart leapt into his throat; he couldn't breathe. She was so fucking beautiful. He wanted to grab her, to feel her against him. He shifted his legs at the thought. Looking up at him like that weakened him in so many ways. Most noticeably, in his pants, where he tried to conceal the results of his dirty thoughts. "Then I will protect you Y/N" he proclaimed proudly. A shy smile touched her lips and she continued to gaze into his eyes. He smiled back. I make her feel safe, he thought. She is comfortable in my presence. No one even bothers talking to me, no one ever wants to talk to me. He had the urge to speak once more but couldn't find the words.

Before either of them could speak, the subway speaker rang out once again in that barely audible robotic toned voice announcing the next stop as the harsh brakes squeaked heavily to a stop. As if anticipating her to leave, he just as quickly stood up and offered out his hand. "Thank you," her voice sang. She turned to face him, her small stature looking up at him once more. He held his composure but felt the heat well up inside him. "It was so nice having someone to ride the train with tonight for a change!" She cheerfully exclaimed with a smile.

She had grabbed her things and had let go of his hand. What sweet bliss it was for the few seconds he had held it. Her fingers, so dainty and soft. The train screeched to a halt, and he instinctively grabbed her hand again and put his other hand at the small of her back to steady her. He could feel the soft curve of her spine. He slowly moved a pinky closer, hoping she wouldn't notice, tracing the line of her jeans as he did, feeling the line of her panty through the fabric. He quickly pulled away as she exited the train. He had held back. He wanted to do so much more. He wanted to turn her around, grab her face and kiss her, shove her onto the subway seats, and have his way with her, make her cry out. He wanted her to miss work. He wanted her to quit! He wanted her all to himself.

This moment was too perfect. It felt like a dream. As she stepped off the platform and began to walk away, he stood as the doors shut, helplessly watching her as she slowly walked. Unable to stop time. As the train brakes hissed and cranked, he saw her stop and turn around. She had stepped to the doors, but it was too late. He watched on as her figure shrunk into the distance as the train traveled once again into the dark tunnel. He waved. He would see her again. He would make sure of that. Platform 19. He thought, I'll remember this time.

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maeum-your · 4 months ago

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pairing: park jongseong x fem!reader

synopsis: life with all its unexpected twists and turns decides it hates you big time. your best friend ends up taking you on a trip to italy to help you escape the cruelties of your existence for at least a couple of days.

when a handsome stranger saves you from some intimate time with the airport floor and you later happen to bump into him again at your hotel, you decide to spend more time together. is it wise to open up your heart to him?

starring: enhypen jay & sunghoon, ningning (aespa), soobin (txt)

genre: one-shot, fluff, angst, slightly humorous (to some) (perhaps)

warnings: no smut but there definitely is talk about the omegaverse (idk how that happened either), harmless making out, quite a bit of cursing, dysfunctional families, my restrained need to talk about my hero academia so mc mentions todoroki quite a bit lmaoo my bad

word count: 14.1k

a/n: happy comeback day 🎉🎉🎉

my first fic in two years woooo! i started writing this two summers ago but never ended up getting past the first draft. it took a lot of editing and revising to get it to where it is now and i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻

the location where this is taking place holds a very special place in my heart 💞

“and above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places.” - roald dahl

you had your palms pressed against the cool glass, mouth hanging wide open in wonder as you gazed through the window. wings broke through the cotton candy field of clouds, your final destination becoming visible at long last.

stiff limbs from flying for so long were quickly forgotten as you took in the scenery from above. a breathtaking tapestry of vineyards and olive groves stretched across the landscape, the late afternoon sun illuminating the waters of the serpentine river slithering through the city below.

everything just looked so very different from what you were used to. the skyscrapers and gray monotony of your own life disappeared to the far back of your mind.

“i knew you’d love it, but you literally have heart eyes right now. you better close your mouth before you start catching flies.“

the redhead next to you nudged you in the ribs, giggling at the wonderstruck expression on your face. “mission accomplished. just what i was hoping for.“

you rolled your eyes at ningning’s teasing smirk but couldn‘t stop your mouth from stretching into a big smile, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“oh, shut it, you.“

soon, you‘d made your way through security and headed to pick up your luggage. you hadn‘t really brought much—a single suitcase sufficed for the short stay ningning had planned. yet, you already found yourself wishing for more time in this special little corner of the world.

completely exhausted after a full day of flying and five layovers, yet brimming with anticipation, you stood waiting at the baggage carousel. it seemed to take forever, though you didn‘t mind, not much, whistling a jolly tune while tapping your feet, watching bags and suitcases of all sizes, shapes and colors get picked up by people just as varied as their belongings.

as you finally laid eyes on your rosé gold suitcase and moved to retrieve it, a collision sent you staggering. if not for a stranger with superhuman reflexes who had reached out and pulled you back by the waist after someone’s shoulder had slammed into yours with unexpected force, you might have ended up greeting the grimy verona airport floor with your face.

a silver-haired young man at a distance waved apologetically. “my bad!“ he yelled and then, addressing the mysterious stranger who still had his arm wrapped snugly around your waist, “come on, dude. our cab‘s waitin‘.“

your savior was donning a pair of gray joggers and a zip hoodie, the hood drawn up, sunglasses hiding his eyes as he bent his head to look at you. concern lined the features that weren‘t being concealed, lending him a mysterious air amidst the casual attire.

“is your shoulder okay? sorry about my friend; we‘re in a little bit of a rush and he’s a little… well, let’s just call him a high energy individual.“ with a quick bow, he darted off after the silver-haired man, leaving before you could utter a word in response. the kind stranger had gone before you could get a proper look at his face.

lucky for you, ningning had maintained her composure amidst the chaos and had swiftly retrieved both your suitcases from the carousel in the meantime. it was exactly what you expected from the hyper-focused and detail-oriented woman. you wouldn‘t be surprised if she could read an academic paper and understand all its concepts without struggling even in the middle of attending a death metal concert or riding a rollercoaster. she had always been nothing short of amazing.

with her hand on her waist, the redhead sighed as she glanced after the two men responsible for the commotion.

“that was one hell of a main character moment, huh?“

you felt a blush creeping up your cheeks, still feeling the lingering touch of the stranger and the faint scent of his cologne in the air.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

after picking up the keys for the rental car you had pre-booked through the company's website, you set off from verona airport. inside the shark blue volkswagen golf, the windows remained down to combat the stifling, humid air. normally, you would have minded—the hair sticking to your forehead and the beads of sweat forming—but here in verona, one of italy’s most historically and culturally significant cities, it felt liberating. it felt like freedom.

the breeze that flowed through the open windows swept away all the pent-up frustrations and stresses of the past weeks, carrying them far into the distance. in its wake, it left a sense of tranquility that you weren’t sure you had ever experienced.

ningning had a white scarf draped elegantly around her head and neck, its thin fabric fluttering in the wind. She wore stylish louis vuitton sunglasses perched on her nose and sported bright red lips that shimmered in the sunlight. ningning was the embodiment of the phrase "to go in fashion," effortlessly turning heads wherever she went.

you closed your eyes and let the crisp air tickle your skin.

passing through several charming villages, you eventually arrived at lago di garda. mesmerized by the lake of shining waters, you decided to take a leisurely drive around its perimeter.

a few windsurfers skillfully glided across the water, harnessing the wind's power, while most people were beginning to depart as the sun dipped low, casting an orange glow over everything. high-pitched calls echoed as seagulls swooped and scavenged. you couldn't help but burst into laughter as you watched one bold seagull snatch a sandwich right out of a tourist's hand, prompting a comical chase that ended in a flurry of french profanities.

by the time you completed your circuit around the lake, darkness had nearly enveloped the landscape. the sun had slipped behind the mountains, cooling the air. above, the moon shone brightly, casting a silvery glow that danced across the lake's surface.

the way up the winding road of the mountain might not have taken long but it sure wasn‘t relaxing either. your knuckles turned white from gripping the sides of your seat so hard as your best friend navigated the curves and twists of the road in the near dark. the hillside wasn’t secured at all and, if you were being completely honest, you didn‘t necessarily trust your best friend’s driving skills.

her reckless mode of driving stemmed less from any daredevil traits the redhead didn‘t possess and more from an earnest lack of skill. not that the overachiever didn‘t try to make up for it with rigorous practice.

a car came racing down the road at full speed, blinding you with its headlights. you squeezed your eyes shut. so this is how it would end? you were still so young and there was so much you still wanted to do… oh, no—would your mother throw away your psychologically large manga collection? you didn‘t want todoroki living inside a trash can.

through some miraculous maneuvering, ningning steered the car close enough to the edge that the speeding vehicle narrowly missed you. perhaps you needed to give her driving skills more credit after all. with a heavy sigh, you slumped back into your seat. todoroki was safe.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“soobin, my man. how nice to see you! how's the family?”

checking in at the hotel took a little longer than it might have usually. ningning was happily chatting away with the blue-haired receptionist, whom she‘d known ever since he‘d started working there five years ago. her family had been coming up there for the past ten summers or so, enjoying a few quiet weeks together in the mountains. it was quite strange, actually, that you‘d never come there with them, but then again, your own parents had always liked to keep you where they could see you. you'd spent your high school summers with your nose in a textbook, as they forced you to attend summer school and other extra study sessions because anything less than a perfect grade was unacceptable.

with heavy eyelids and throbbing heads, the two of you headed straight to bed without having dinner at the hotel restaurant. you had bought a sandwich each at the airport to snack on during the ride, so you weren‘t really all that hungry. besides, there were still a couple of days ahead of you to enjoy all the delicious mediterranean specialties italy had to offer.

the mattress of the king-size bed was soft and bouncy as you flopped down on it. you sprawled out your tired limbs, feeling as if you were lying on top of a cloud.

ningning had immediately refused the idea of getting separate rooms or even separate beds. she had always been the clingy one, hanging onto your arm or cuddling up to you while watching tv. you didn’t mind; you enjoyed the feeling of someone actually wanting to be in your presence.

being apart even for just the night would probably not have been the smartest idea anyway. attached at the hip since the ripe age of five, ningning knew you as well as the back of her hand. if left alone for even a moment too long, she feared you might fall apart. and girls who fly together, cry together! or at least that’s what she‘d said. no solitary weeping for you.

sharing beds had been as much a regular occurrence throughout your friendship as drunkenly reading juicy omegaverse stories out loud at 3 a.m.

from the time she befriended you on your first day of kindergarten, when she'd scared off a boy who‘d been chasing after you with a worm, until now, you‘d been having weekly sleepovers.

as teens, there had occasionally been the unscheduled visit too, whenever having to deal with your controlling parents had gotten too difficult.

it just so happened that skillfully climbing out of your window and sneaking over to cuddle close under her soft duvets was the only way to calm the anguish tearing you apart like a feral beast. ningning would let you cry in her arms while you told her, in between broken sobs, all about what you had apparently done this time to garner your parents‘ disapproval. the arguments usually revolved around you not wearing the right clothes, not reading the right books, not getting the right grades, not having the right friends—you get the gist. nothing you ever did was right.

even so, within the next hour, you’d usually end up giggling uncontrollably as ningning made you watch an episode of how i met your mother or funny cat videos she‘d saved just for occasions like that. she was like a witch who could spirit away your worries with a wave of her hand.

what had happened this time, however, could not be solved by some simple quality time and extensive skinship. it had forced you to escape together, to run off to another country, even if just temporarily, taking a holiday in the comune of tenno situated near the foothills of the italian alps.

it was as if the majestic peaks of the surrounding mountains had put their protective arms around you, and the soothing breeze, carrying the earthy scent of nearby forests, lulled you to sleep. for once, you slept soundly, with no nightmares coming to plague you at night, nothing to disturb your peaceful slumber.

soft rays of sunlight danced along your skin, gently rousing you from sleep the next morning. as consciousness returned, you fluttered your eyes open.

beside you, the redhead stirred, grumbling something unintelligible before burying her face in the gigantic pillow. she was sprawled out across her mattress, clinging to the covers more than they clung to her. her tousled hair, evidence of a night filled with tossing and turning, revealed her to be an unexpectedly messy sleeper.

you patted her head with a fond smile before slipping away to take a shower. the cold water jolted you awake, breathing new life into your senses. today promised to be a good day—you could feel it in your bones.

squeaky clean and feeling refreshed, you opened the bathroom door, expecting to breathe in the calm morning air drifting through the open window. instead, you were greeted with a horrendous stench that made your eyes water.

ningning was holding up a spray bottle and waved it frantically, filling the room with a cloud of mosquito repellant that made you cough violently. you buried your nose in your shirt, shooting daggers at her with your eyes. your friend pointed to the dozen bites covering her legs and arms with a grimace. holy cow.

how had you not noticed them earlier? but then again, you‘d felt a little groggy and disoriented right after waking up, vision still blurry and that lightbulb up there not fully functioning yet.

throats all irritated and scratchy, you both struggled to catch your breaths between bouts of coughing. it was clear ningning had used way too much.

you gestured urgently toward the door, but ningning was preoccupied battling a tiny mosquito buzzing around her head. insects always turned your usually rational friend into a bit of a hysterical mess.

without hesitation, you grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the room.

before you could breathe in the fresh, fume-free air, however, your body collided with something hard. the girl who had been just inches behind you crashed into you, knocking you over.

“oh, for fuck’s sake,” you muttered, frustration bubbling up. why did your intuition about the trajectory of today have to be so far off?

your fall was cushioned by something soft and very much alive. holding your spinning head, you tried to push ningning off your back while simultaneously struggling to get up from whoever you had just taken down with you.

the frantic apology you were preparing got stuck in your throat as you looked down at the gorgeous adonis underneath you.

silky black strands of hair framed his sunkissed face, and his eyes were sharp and narrow. in theory, their design should‘ve made him look angry and serious, especially after being tackled to the ground so forcefully.

instead, he stared at you in wide-eyed surprise. “wait, aren‘t you the girl from the airport? i remember you. yeah, you were wearing a blue babydoll top, weren‘t you? you almost got knocked over.“

your eyes fell to the heart-shaped birthmark on his neck. realization dawned on you. you remembered catching a glimpse of that peculiar spot on his neck under the gray hood he‘d been wearing just a day prior.

“you‘re the one who saved me from falling.“

“i guess you came to take revenge on us.“ much to your surprise, he appeared completely indifferent to finding himself intimately acquainted with the floor. his laugh was rich and infectious, his eyes twinkling merrily. god, he was cute.

he promptly got up off the floor and extended a chivalrous hand to you, helping you up in one swift motion, the muscles in his arms flexing deliciously.

the strong grip on your hand and the gentle pull willed your face to stop mere inches away from his. you could feel his warmth radiating and caught a faint scent of his cologne. your eyes locked for a moment, and it was hard to keep a neutral facade—to act like this hadn’t just completely derailed your train of thought.

his surprise at the sudden proximity faded into something softer, the twinkling of his eyes reminiscent of the glimmering water of lago di garda underneath the evening sun.

this man had you writing poetry about him, and you didn‘t even know his name.

a cough interrupted the moment, drawing your attention. "i hate to interrupt, but technically, i’m on the floor because of you. so, can someone lend a hand before you two carry on with the romancing?“

heat seared across your face. you hurried to assist ningning, who had just borne witness to you drooling over some handsome stranger after you'd pushed her so callously to the ground. this man was undeniably good-looking, though, so you hoped she’d understand.

forget bros before hoes. as far as ningning was concerned, the more hoes for y/n, the better. you really were that bitchless. it wasn’t like you hadn‘t had your fair share of what you affectionately referred to as your gentleman callers, but unfortunately the only men you were attracted to were either fictional and/or two dimensional (literally). so you ogling at a living, breathing specimen of the opposite sex truly called for celebration.

another hand beat you to helping ningning up, belonging to a man slightly taller than the stranger you’d collided with. he possessed slender limbs, an elegant face with a mole beneath his right eye, and a rosy blush tinting his cheeks against silver hair.

he pointed to himself with a cheeky grin. “and i‘m the culprit of the hit and run. glad my man jay here,“ he draped an arm around the other man, “took such good care of you.“

although his words were aimed at you, his gaze remained fixed on ningning as if she were a rare gem on display. the object of his attention couldn’t help but laugh incredulously at the absurdity of the situation.

his friend, jay, freed himself from his grasp. “that’s not really something to brag about,“ he chided his friend with an exasperated sigh. “well, this is sunghoon, my idiotic best friend but i swear he‘s alright?“ the last bit came out more like a question.

was he really alright, like mentally, jay wondered as he watched his friend unabashedly checking out ningning from head to toe, the grin on his face growing impossibly wider, giving off an air of mischief jay had grown accustomed to over the years.

“and who might you be?“ sunghoon incquired in a sultry tone, eyes lingering a tad too long on the pink pajama shorts your best friend was still wearing.

“if i tell you, will you promise to finally stop doing that,“ she gestured to his face with a frown, “weird eyebrow thing you have going on?“

sunghoon, who had indeed been wiggling his eyebrows while squinting and puckering his lips, attempted to defend himself. "i was aiming for 'man of your dreams' but i'll take the feedback," he grumbled, straightening up and relaxing his features. when he wasn‘t contorting his face, he didn‘t look half bad—he was almost as handsome as his companion, though you were clearly biased in that regard.

ningning breathed a sigh of relief, as if finally cured of a long period of intense suffering. “much, much better. and, as promised, i‘m ningning. and,“ shifting the attention to you as she nodded in your direction affectionately, “this is y/n.“

“sorry, for earlier,“ sunghoon apologized impishly, rubbing the back of his neck after receiving a warning glare from ningning.

“no harm done.“

“a lovely name for a lovely lady,“ jay remarked with a charming smile. if he was indeed flirting, you were relieved that his approach was far more refined compared to his friend’s antics. a true gentleman caller indeed.

wait—he was flirting with you? the tingling sensation that swept through your body embarrassed you enough to avert your eyes at record speed. who would’ve thought that not only would you one day find a man you actually found sorta attractive, but that he’d also be trying to woo you with his irresistible charms?

lovely, lovely ningning, the incarnation of cupid herself, someone who knew you inside out, backwards and forwards, immediately picked up on the vibes. a cunning smile tugged at her lips.

“so,“ she clapped her hands together, “would you guys,“ stare lingering on jay specifically, “like to join us for breakfast? we,“ glancing at you, “would be glad for some company.“

you weren‘t quite sure whether to strangle ningning or kiss her. if she wanted to play matchmaker, right now wasn‘t really an appropriate time. a summer fling, or, god forbid, a summer romance wasn't really what you were looking for. you thought about the reason that had necessitated your escape in the first place and shuddered. 2d men would be a much safer option.

the redhead, noticing this, gave you an encouraging smile as she touched your arm. it‘s going to be alright, she seemed to say. the tension in your body relaxed slightly.

sunghoon, completely oblivious to the very obvious scheme ningning was planning, swung his arm around jay‘s shoulder, squeezing him way too tight. he stared him down with huge, unsettling orbs and an over-the-top smile. “we would love to. right, jay?“

not a single person in this hallway was being very subtle about their intentions. it all felt a little too bizarre to be real.

jay regarded you with an unreadable expression. his gaze lingered, unwavering and deep, as if trying to read you.

finally, his face relaxed into a pleasant smile. “right, sunghoon.“

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“i like women with opinions. so hot.“

ningning glanced at you discreetly, her face a silent cry for help.

sunghoon had his head resting on his arms, looking dreamily at the redhead sitting in front of him. it wasn‘t that your best friend wasn‘t accustomed to attention from both boys and girls, but no one had ever been so weird about it. his excessive fluttering eyelashes and exaggerated sighs made it difficult to take him seriously, as if he were a man who'd just experienced the most mind-blowing orgasm of his life and was now asking for another round.

even jay seemed lost for words, shooting sunghoon some serious side-eyes, unable to flatten his facial expression into anything other than a mix of mortified amusement and concern for his friend‘s mental state.

“has anyone told you that you‘re a bit peculiar?“ ningning asked, taking a sip from her orange juice, her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized sunghoon.

“oh yeah, all the time, but it sounds so much sexier when you say it,“ sunghoon replied with a playful grin.

“okay, time to switch the subject.“ jay needed to cut off sunghoon before he‘d start spouting even more unhinged nonsense. “we‘ve established ningning is a pre-law student who can kick ass. so, y/n, how do you go about insulting stupid people?“

“oh, i might not say it to your face but i will use you for inspiration as a villain in one of my stories and make you suffer. like, a lot.“ you shrugged nonchalantly, as if that was a completely normal thing to say.

“creative, i like that,“ jay chuckled. “so i take it you‘re a writer then?“

wildly embarrassed all of a sudden, you played with the fresh strawberries on your plate. “not exactly. i‘m an english major and, well, i do enjoy writing in my spare time. but it‘s nothing to write home about, really.“

in truth, you had a few short stories published online and plenty of my hero academia fanfics on ao3, but revealing that would literally shatter your dignity into a million tiny, irreparable pieces.

“what about you?“ you quickly asked jay, shifting the spotlight away from yourself. you were accustomed to avoiding attention, fearing that someone (usually your parents) might uncover and critique your flaws. “let me guess. you’re obviously very knowledgeable when it comes to fashion, so… fashion design, perhaps!“

jay was impeccably dressed and styled. at the airport, he had sported a more relaxed and comfortable look, but today he was wearing a dark blue polo shirt, white shorts, and wristwatch that caught the sunlight. the golden earrings added a touch of chic to his ensemble.

what had really given you the notion in the first place, however, was the fact that he started meticulously analyzing the outfit of every single person in the room the moment you entered, providing a long-winded commentary about the latest fashion trends from all across the globe. you could only hope that the white shirt dress you had on was jay-approved.

“sooo close,“ he chuckled ironically. “it‘s actually business administration and management.“

this revelation made you tilt your head curiously. jay did exude a hint of businesslike demeanor at first glance, but his personality was far from aloof. you had expected something different, something more tailored to his personality, that‘s all.

it was nice to get to know what the two strangers at the table were like, and you listened fondly to the stories ningning was telling, even though you‘d already heard them hundreds of times. you starred in most of them anyway.

the only issue was that jay seemed very interested in you. why would this be an issue, a sane person might ask. a hot, fashionable man with good manners showing interest in you. boo hoo. go jump off a cliff.

you internally scolded yourself for being so tense, but it wasn‘t easy to just let go and relax. just how much of yourself could you give away without going from a hot mess to just straight-up professional problem collector? if only you had the superpower to come up with half-truths on the spot that could make you sound way cooler than you were, but you weren‘t ningning. you were creative, yes, as illustrated by your artistic pursuits, but that creativity needed to simmer and only came loose when it wanted to. you couldn‘t summon it in an instant. you probably came across like a proper snooze-fest with the way all of your answers were as specific as a fortune cookie.

if jay was deterred by this, it didn‘t show. he was like a gold digger searching for the treasure. in this case, something you could talk about without restraint. he sensed an active inner world and was convinced he just needed to show enough genuine interest to coax it out of you. if only he knew the right things to say—

“don‘t ignore me.“ sunghoon crossed his arms in front of his chest, pouting like a kicked puppy. “if i don‘t get attention, i‘ll die.“

“much better,“ he said solemnly, when everyone turned to him, swiftly ignoring the raised eyebrows.

“ningning. i need one of your sexy opinions. hotdogs? are they a sandwich?“

the redhead blinked blankly, momentarily forgetting to chew on her food. “excuse me, what?“

“is a hotdog a sandwich,“ he repeated as if it were the most normal question in the world.

“no? yes. no! what?“ you‘d never seen your best friend so lost for words. she opened and closed her mouth, spluttering in confusion.

“shouldn‘t it be though? there‘s bread on two opposite sides.“

“but a hotdog is just a hotdog, and a sandwich is just a sandwich,“ she contemplated, treating the question with more seriousness than the situation required.

“look,“ she said, pointing the fork at him, “one has two separate pieces of bread, and the other is a sliced bun.“

“yeah, they don‘t have the same shape either,“ you chimed in. “and a hot dog has the bread on the sides, but a sandwich has it on the top and bottom.“

“would you then agree that a hot dog is a taco?“

say what now?

he shrugged. “they‘re the same shape, so according to your logic, a hotdog would be a taco.“

ningning thought about this. “i guess it would be more of a taco than a sandwich.“

“that wasn‘t the point i was trying to make.“ sunghoon muttered displeased.

“actually,“ jay had pulled out his phone, “according to merriam-webster, a sandwich is defined as having two or more slices of bread or a split roll with a filling in between. this would mean that a hotdog is, in fact, a sandwich. however—“

“ha, i told you so. guess i know more than you after all, mon chéri,“ sunghoon taunted ningning, relishing in riling her up. did he know whom he was messing with? arguing with the redhead was as safe as juggling chainsaws.

ningning folded her arms. “that‘s literally complete bullshit. have they literally never seen a sandwich before?“

“if you would let me finish,“ jay raised his voice, lips pressed into a tight line, unamused by their bickering, “the washington post argues that classification can be done by applying the cube rule, which categorizes food by the placement of starch. and hot dogs are defined by starch on the bottom and on two opposing sides.“

“so basically, what you‘re trying to say is—actually, i have no idea what you just said. i guess we just have to agree to disagree, sweetheart.“ sunghoon winked at ningning. she looked like she was about to jump at him and stab him with her fork.

ningning didn‘t lose. that was a fact. as a middle schooler, she‘d had a reputation for obliterating even the most raunchy, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, everything-phobic boys into submission. then, during high school, she‘d been known as the undefeated wrecking ball at every debate tournament, serving up verbal beatdowns like they were free samples at costco.

winning pointless discussions was what she did best.

the back-and-forth continued, phones were pulled out, receipts shown.

“yeah, i don‘t think i‘m as invested in this as they are.“ you said to jay, accompanied by a wry sigh.

“me neither.“

he was secretly glad it gave him the chance to return to the earlier conversation. what should he focus on? what moved you? you‘d been so humble about your writing; he was sure there must be more.

“you said you liked to write? any plans on becoming a published author then?“

a bitter laugh escaped you before you could stop it. you scrambled to cover it up by putting on a totally-not-forced smile. definitely not the best choice of topic.

you were the only daughter of an affluent family and expected successor to a big hotel chain. your parents had nearly combusted when you‘d chosen to study english at a smallish public university instead of sticking to the meticulously mapped-out 200-step life plan for you.

step one: no room for defiance.

step two: exceed perfection.

the arts were only ever desirable when they were being consumed, not pursued. they didn‘t understand that someone had to create that art in the first place for others to appreciate it.

writing fiction was akin to attending a formal dinner party butt-nacked, as far as your parents were concerned anyway. they judged your devotion to made-up stories as disgraceful.

despite all of your attempts to escape your so-called destiny, your parents never gave up trying to mold you into someone you weren‘t—an impossible version of yourself they expected you to eventually accept. your true personality was dismissed as “just a phase.“

desperately clinging onto your dreams, you knew that what had transpired right before your escape had the power to alter the trajectory of your entire life.

the room was quieter than a mime convention as you contemplated your life choices, wondering why there couldn’t have been an instruction manual for when shit like this happens.

jay furrowed his eyebrows. “parental issues, i assume?“

good thing your jaw was securely attached to your skull because— “how on earth? are you some kind of psychic or what?”

he gave an unperturbed shrug. “isn‘t it always parental issues, though?“

“true.“ you sipped on your water, eyeing him suspiciously. you couldn‘t believe you were that easy to read, more transparent than a freshly cleaned windowpane. mastering the art of hiding your true thoughts and feelings was the one superpower you had to learn in order to avoid nuclear-level arguments with your parents.

jay regarded you with an unreadable expression before his lips curled into a gentle smile, making you almost forget that you were supposed to be in full-on panic mode.

“so i guess you‘re here to forget all about that? tenno really is a beautiful place. it‘s so easy to put aside all of your worries once you‘re up here.“

“i think so too,“ you nodded enthusiastically, relieved that he wasn‘t going to press on about the whole parental issues thing. “it was all ningning‘s idea to come. she said she knew just the right spot, so here we are. i gather you‘ve been here before?“

“hundreds of times,“ he said. you noticed he had a tendency to trail off into laughter the end of his sentences.

“actually, i’ve been wondering—have you made any plans yet? sunghoon and i were going to walk to the art colony not far from here. not only is the route is lovely, but i think it might speak to your artistic side. what do you say?“

hell yes, you thought, but then remembered it was probably embarrassing to be so excited about spending time with someone you literally didn‘t even know.

“ningning?“ you tapped your friend on the elbow, prompting her to abrubtly cease arguing with sunghoon, leaving the silver-haired man to sulk.

“do you want to go with them today? they‘re visiting an art colony. we haven‘t planned anything, right?“

you tried to keep the pleading puppy eyes in check, hoping she hadn‘t secretly arranged any plans yet. looking at art? sounds perfect. looking at art with a hot guy? fucking amazing.

“as long as he admits that i am right,“ ningning rolled her eyes at sunghoon who regarded her with a scoff.

“you wish, mon chér—ouch.“

you had enough tact to pretend not to have noticed jay kicking sunghoon under the table.

“fine. you win this round, sweetheart.“

ningning stuck out her tongue at him and did a little victory dance. seemed like you weren‘t the only one in a good mood.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

the art colony was a medieval village named canale di tenno. as you strolled through its cobblestone streets, you immediately noticed the unusually tall stone houses, some four or even five stories high, every wall slanted and crooked. you admired their rustic facades and flower-adorned balconies.

you moved under archways and through narrow alleys, all leading to the piazzetta, the village square, where a few cozy restaurants were located. especially for someone from a big city, this small and rural village with its forty residents and handful of art galleries and shops felt like a 180 degree switch to the skyscrapers and anonymous crowds of seoul. vibrant artwork was displayed on most of the windowsills and you were welcomed with genuine enthusiasm everywhere you entered.

jay grew more and more attractive with each passing minute, acting as a tour guide and sharing his extensive knowledge about the village and its people with you.

he was now leading you through the historic house museum, known as the casa degli artisti, dedicated to the renowned italian artist giacomo vittone. the museum not only paid homage to his contribution to the arts, but the collection also featured works by other artists who‘d been inspired by the region.

the owner greeted jay like an old friend, patting him on his back as he gave him a hug followed by a kiss on each cheek. jay conversed in fluent italian, gushing over the new pieces of art that had been added since his last visit. your handsome stranger seemed to know a lot about many of the individual artworks and personally guided you through the exhibitions.

meanwhile, ningning and sunghoon seemed to be in their own little bubble, bickering for the majority of the time, but you could tell it was all in good fun. if you weren’t mistaken, and you rarely were when it came to your best friend, ningning had taken a liking to the silver-haired man. she did like being challenged, though not as much as she liked to win, and she was definitely more than capable of dealing with all the teasing and pestering he made use of to secure her attention.

you weren’t really focused on the pair, if you were being honest. you’d always been a fan of the arts, fascinated by the way literature and art intersected in many places.

you eagerly bombarded jay with question after question about the pieces, any traces of shyness had vanished, replaced by a thirst for knowledge. he smiled to himself and did his best to answer, happily delving into discussions about the color palettes and artistic forms with you, delighted to see you coming out of your shell.

after having gone through each piece in extensive length, you went into a tiny store selling art goods.

the moment you stepped in, your eyes darted from one corner to the other, heart swelling with joy, unsure where to look first. if you could have, you would have bought everything they were selling. each and every piece had been crafted by hand, none of that factory-produced stuff. all the goods were unique to the village, to that store. how you wished you could’ve properly supported the local community and all its artists.

fleeing home in a hurry meant you hadn‘t been able to exchange your korean wons to euros, and most places here didn’t have card readers.

besides, you were sick and tired of being reliant on mommy‘s and daddy‘s money. all you‘d ever wanted was to support yourself by writing novels. being dependent on your parents was one thing, but the thought of being dependent on… well, him. you shook your head to rid yourself of that painful feeling. real life could wait.

everyone ventured off on their own, taking their time to absorb the treasures inside the room for as long or as little as they liked.

at a table just behind the corner stood an army of little frog figurines made of clay, painted a muddy green. the whimsical creatures with their silly little faces warmed your heart. it was a bit strange; they were only frogs after all, yet you couldn’t help but feel an immediate attachment to them.

“they‘re beautiful, aren‘t they?“ jay appeared soundlessly by your side.

you nodded. he gently lifted one to his eyes and inspected it closely, focusing on a peculiar spot under its eye. “this one kinda looks a bit like sunghoon.“

“oh, i see it.“

you picked up another one. “and this one‘s you.“ the paint had chipped off a little at the neck in exactly the shape of a heart.

jay pointed to another one and said it looked like you.

you tilted your head to the side, staring at the frog with a puzzled expression. “how come?“

“it‘s cute.“

heat rushed to your cheeks. he looked straight at you, face completely serious.

you quickly averted your eyes. the intensity in which he studied you was too much. it made you feel a little self-conscious.

ignoring your erratic heartbeat, you continued going through the frogs, the perfect excuse not to look back up at jay. rather coincidentally, since you weren‘t really focusing on the task at hand, you found the remaining missing member of your little frog community. a tiny amphibian with lovely wide eyes bore a striking resemblance to your best friend. give her a wig and voilá—amphibian ningning.

not only did jay end up buying the four frogs, but he also insisted on getting lunch for all of you. ningning and you tried to protest, but sunghoon, already used to his friend‘s generous spending sprees, ordered an obscene amount of food as if it were the last time he would eat ever. ningning and you still felt bad about leeching off jay when both of your families were rolling in dough, but there was no point arguing with the man.

by the time everyone had finished, you felt like you were about to burst any minute. despite having to soothe your aching tummies, it was worth it. the polenta e funghi you‘d had… fucking hell.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

the way back to the hotel felt much more tedious than when you‘d walked to canale di tenno. the blisters on your feet screamed for mercy, unwilling to continue trotting under the glistening sun. your full bellies dragged you down, inviting you to lie down on the grass and close your eyes for a moment.

“how come you knew the owner of the museum so well?“ you inquired, curious to learn more about jay. you walked side by side, with ningning and sunghoon a little ahead.

“oh, i thought i mentioned it. he’s actually a distant relative of mine. i‘m not quite sure. i think he is my great aunt‘s husband‘s sister‘s husband or something like that? yeah, sounds about right.“ he rubbed the back of his neck. “he and his wife rejected the luxury of our family name and she moved here to live with him, where they'd first met and fallen in love. we haven‘t been here since they got married; i'm barely even allowed to mention him to my parents. we‘re not known for being very tolerant.“

he clenched his teeth. he hated how his family had acted. was acting. he liked his great-great-uncle, admired him even.

“i wish i had the courage to be more like him, to bravely go against expectation.“

you nodded thoughtfully. “sometimes our hearts don‘t want what others have picked out for us.“

he gave you a meaningful look, but you couldn‘t decipher it.

you were walking uphill now, labored breaths escaping you with every step. ningning and sunghoon appeared to be immersed in some conversation that required a lot of gestures, judging by their constant arm movements, but they were too far ahead, fueled by their competitive energy, for you to hear.

you watched their backs as you listened to the birdsong accompanying your journey. you closed your eyes for just a second, enjoying the lovely melody, but that was all it took. you misstepped.

jay‘s reflexes kicked in just a tick too late, and there you were, crouching on the ground, face contorted in pain, clutching your ankle. you tried to stand, but the sharp pain that shot up your foot forced you back down with a yelp. the pair ahead of you quickly rushed back to you upon hearing your agonized howl.

“let me take a look,” jay said gently.

reluctantly, you allowed him to examine your ankle, wincing as the prodded it with a gentle touch. “it hurts like a bitch.”

“it‘s swollen; i think you sprained it. you shouldn‘t walk on it, or it‘ll get worse.“

“oh, my sweet little darling! i’ll get you back safely, don’t worry. hop on.“ ningning stood with a slight forward lean, ready to receive the weight.

sunghoon affectionately tapped her head and chuckled. "it’s nice that you’re so concerned, but don’t you think it would be much easier if either jay or i carried her? not to brag or anything, but i'm pretty strong."

sunghoon‘s enthusiasm faded into mortification as he caught the warning in jay's eyes.

"or… jay can carry y/n since he is much, much stronger than i am. yes, big biceps and all that good stuff. loads of muscle. umm, if you know, you know.“

you probably had no choice but to continue the journey on jay’s back. putting pressure on your foot hurt so bad and bruises already started to form a purplish-red hue.

before you could even think about protesting, he effortlessly scooped you up and adjusted you onto his back. hands secured around his neck and shoulders, you could feel his strong muscles at work as he resumed walking.

despite the situation, you couldn‘t help but feel a little flustered being so close to him. ningning winking at you from the side probably didn‘t help much either.

jay didn't complain even once about the extra weight. on the contrary, he continued talking so effortlessly, as if he weren’t carrying an entire person on his back.

“you know, this reminds me of a hike i did in the rockies last year,“ he began, voice calm and steady. “except it was sunghoon who twisted his ankle, and i had to carry him.“

you laughed softly. “it‘s insane that you‘re not even breaking a sweat, especially, in this heat,“ you said, shaking your head in disbelief.

you felt him shrug. “years of hiking and a bit of gym time,“ he replied nonchalantly. “plus, i think carrying a beautiful girl might be giving me an extra burst of energy.“

it sure was a good thing that he couldn't see your face at that moment. your cheeks burned hot as he continued making light conversation.

jay‘s relaxed demeanor helped you forget the throbbing pain in your ankle for the most part, allowing you to genuinely enjoy the rest of the walk. with no need to focus on where you were stepping anymore, you could fully take in the view, catching glimpses of a lake glimmering through the trees.

when you reached the hotel, you experienced a confusing mix of relief and disappointment as jay gently set you down. “there you go, safe and sound.“

jay went to find some ice for your ankle, and ningning retrieved painkillers from her suitcase.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

for dinner, you indulged in strangolapreti—spinach and ricotta dumplings served with a sage and butter sauce—and some pollo alla cacciatora, hunter‘s chicken cooked in a tomato and herb sauce. jay used his perfect italian to inquire about the restaurant’s finest wines, settling on a bottle of teroldego rotaliano, made from grapes native to the trentino region. because of your stupid ankle and reliance on painkillers, however, you didn't have more than just a sip or two.

after a second bottle, some gelato and more ibuprofen for your ankle, the group decided to spend the rest of the evening playing card games, which led to some rather… let‘s say interesting bets.

"i’ll let you bleach my eyebrows and dye them pink if i lose."

"if i win, i‘m going to draw dicks on your faces."

“you have to do a hundred push-ups wearing a maid costume.“

none of the bets— or so you thought— ended up being actualized since you were far too gone far too soon. the moment your head hit the pillow, you drifted off to dreamland, the sharpie shlong on your chin moving with every soft snore.

stupid, fucking ankle. why won’t you work the way you’re supposed to?!

you felt bad beyond measure. the last thing you wanted was to spoil your friends’ fun just because your ankle decided to act like a major bitch right now.

during lunch the day before, ningning had suggested a drive down to lago di garda to explore the towns there, and you wished they would just go do exactly that today.

ignoring your pleading looks, they insisted on staying at the hotel with you but what kind of shitty friend would you be if you were to allow that.

“please just go and don‘t worry about me. i‘ll be fine here on my own. there’s plenty to enjoy—good food and maybe i’ll go chill by the pool or whatever.“

ningning, whose cheeks were stuffed with strawberries, making her look like a cute little chipmunk, shook her head vehemently. “how could we just leave you here? girl, i didn’t drag you all across the globe just to abandon you. nope, i‘m staying.” she motioned vaguely toward the guys. “these two can go, but i’m not leaving you, especially not when you‘re in such a vulnerable position right now. i really don't—“

you shot her a sharp look, halting her mid-sentence. you didn’t want to be rude, but your current predicament really was none of their business.

“yo, we‘re not heartless (well, not completely)… if you‘re stayin’, we‘re stayin‘.“ what sunghoon meant by that was that he was going to follow wherever ningning would go. probably.

you nervously looked between the three of them. “but ningning, i know you‘ve been wanting to visit sirmione. you‘ve been talking about finding that restaurant your grandma used to take you to as a kid, right?“

ningning pouted. it was true. in recent years, her grandma’s illness had prevented her from making the trip with the rest of the family and her passing still weighed heavily on ningning, who had cherished her dearly. the old lady had been your best friend‘s favorite person in the whole world. next to you, goes without saying.

“and sunghoon,“ you turned to him, “you were so excited when we made these plans yesterday. it’s your first time here so you haven‘t had the chance to explore the region either.“

jay hummed thoughtfully. “what about this: ningning and sunghoon take the drive down to the lake. i’ll stay with you. i‘ve been here countless times and have seen everything there is to see.“

now, see, you wanted to protest, you really did, but he did have a valid point. you were less concerned about him missing out than you were with sunghoon and ningning, and let's face it, the selfish desire to have him all to yourself was enough to make you waver. not only was he the most handsome man you‘d ever laid eyes on, including your 2d crushes—okay, maybe not as good-looking as todoroki—, but there was also something else simmering beneath the surface that you just couldn‘t wrap your mind around. you wanted to know what it was.

ningning caught your eye and smirked knowingly. yes, this was perfect. now she could leave you in good conscience. there was no way she‘d let you refuse now.

“have fun, you two,“ she hollered over her shoulder as she practically dragged a bewildered sunghoon away.

“poor ningning. i kinda feel bad for leaving her alone with sunghoon. again.“

you waved off his concern. “you should be worried for sunghoon‘s sake. trust me when i say ningning can handle herself.“

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“guess you‘re stuck here with me now.”

you were both lying on sun loungers by the pool, enjoying the gentle breeze that swirled around you. you had brought a book with you, anne of green gables to be exact (one of your favorites), expecting jay to swim a couple of laps, but instead, he stayed glued to your side.

“poor me,” he said with a teasing smile, placing his hand on his chest in fake agony. “spending my time with a beautiful girl. life really gives the toughest battles to its strongest soldiers.”

you bit the inside of your cheek to keep you from grinning. “whatever.”

“what about this? we have some lunch and then—do you remember the lake you saw through the trees yesterday?—we can walk down there. it only takes five to ten minutes, so carrying you won‘t be a problem.”

“please don‘t! if you want to go, don't mind me. i‘ll be fine here.”

he wouldn‘t hear of it. “ah, ah, ah, no way! i‘m the one who really wants to show you the lake, so don‘t feel bad. besides, i’m a hundred percent confident you‘ve never seen anything that beautiful.“

“not even lago di garda?”

“not even close.”

he spoke with such confidence and self-assurance you felt it would be an insult to refuse.

the path to lago di tenno was a winding descent, flanked by dense greenery and the distant murmur of water. despite the uneven terrain and the extra weight he was bearing, jay‘s pace was unhurried and smooth.

as you approached the lake, the path leveled out and the view opened up to the sparkling water, an almost surreal shade of turquoise glistening under the midday sun. the lake‘s surface was remarkably still, only disturbed by the occasional ripple from a fish darting below. surrounded by the unbelievably clear water was a small landmass featuring lush greenery, known as isola di tenno.

standing there and taking it all in, you felt peace settle within you. the fir and pine trees of the surrounding forests climbing the steep hillsides lent an earthy aroma to the crisp air.

it was as if time had slowed down, the distant chirping of birds and the gentle rustle of leaves adding to the harmonious symphony of nature.

jay‘s lips curved into a smile at the sight of your awestruck face. “i‘m glad i was right.“

you stayed at the shore and watched him wade into the lake. the cool water rose slowly up his legs, glistening as it clung to his sunkissed skin. you had to force yourself to look away, feeling like some kind of creepy stalker.

you let him enjoy the tranquility of the lake as you sat on the blanket you had brought with you. opening your trusty sketchbook, you scanned the landscape, wondering how you could capture its divine beauty on paper. your hand started moving on its own, inspiration from all around filling your heart and soul.

a sudden voice made you jump. “i didn‘t know you could draw so well. but i guess i shouldn’t be so surprised. you really did seem to be into all the art stuff yesterday.“

jay was bending down next to you, water dripping from his hair onto the blanket, looking at the page. “this is really good.“

“you think so?“ you asked. he hummed as he dried his hair with a towel.

“i‘ve always enjoyed drawing and painting. when i was younger, i used to write short stories about my childhood dog, a bearded collie named conan—yes, i named him after watching detective conan. such a good show, by the way. have you ever watched it? i don‘t know if i‘m allowed to say this as an english major, but it‘s sooo much better than the original sherlock holmes stories. i mean, there are very different, but i guess what i‘m trying to say is that they really don‘t hit the same, you know. they‘re kinda boring, actually. all the media inspired by the original sherlock holmes is so much better. bbc‘s sherlock—“

you only realized you were rambling big time when you ran out of breath. the amused smile on jay‘s face made you wish the ground would swallow you whole.

“anyways, what i was going to say was that as i tried to bring conan alive on the pages, i thought it would be much better if you could see this silly little furball at the same time. so i started incorporating little illustrations of him every now and then.“

“i’ve never read the sherlock holmes books so i can’t really say much about them, but i did use to watch detective conan a lot as a kid (though i used to be kind of scared). conan always looked so cool fighting crime. i think it‘s an awesome name for a dog! do you,“ the eagerness in his voice surprised you, ”do you have anything you can show me?“

your hands were shaking. this felt a little too intimate, if you were being honest. still, he‘d been showing genuine interest—and hadn’t minded your ramblings—and you were in the mood to rave about your adorable dog.

“those are so cute. aww, look at his little scarf.“ he was swiping through your phone‘s gallery (a precarious situation considering the many bakudeku fanarts you had saved in your gallery) giving enthusiastic oohs and aahs when appropriate. there were so many drawings of conan. conan with his dotted red scarf. conan wearing yellow boots. conan chasing his tail. a leaf landing on conan‘s broad snout.

“i really think these are awesome. they seem to capture this little rascal‘s personality very well, and, oh my god, he is just so damn adorable. i wanna squish his fluffy butt cheeks.“

seeing this grown man get so excited about your doodles made you happier than you could‘ve ever imagined. this was exactly the feeling you wanted to evoke with your work. sure, most of your stories were primarily aimed at kids, but you believed that good children‘s books should be just as valuable to an adult, and illustrations played a big underrated role in that.

the fond, childlike look on his face as he studied your drawings started to overwhelm you. you didn‘t know how to react to praise, especially coming from someone who didn‘t know you very well so they had no reason to lie to make you happy.

you had to change the topic or you were legit going to cry. how embarrassing would that be, just straight up bawling because someone liked your drawings.

“what about you?“ you asked to push the attention away from you. “you said you were studying business administration. how‘s that?“

the mood shifted so quickly, it was like someone had flipped a switch. jay didn‘t look up from your phone, now looking at conan in a superhero costume with a serious, almost dejected expression.

giving the phone back, he blinked a couple of times as if trying to blink away unwanted thoughts.

“i mean, there are interesting concepts to learn about.“ he ran a hand through his still damp strands of hair and paused for a moment. “it’s okay, but that’s it, really. but i think you guessed that already.“ he smiled, but it didn‘t quite reach his eyes.

his gaze fixed on something far off into the distance. “there are quite a few jobs i can think of that i‘d rather do. fashion design, professional chef, hip-hop dancer... but unlike you or my great-great-uncle, i‘m not brave. if i‘d really wanted to, i could‘ve defied my parents and chosen a different path. i‘m a coward, y/n.“

you put a hand on his arm. “i don‘t know your circumstances in detail, but i understand that standing up for yourself can be more difficult than it seems. i‘m not sure what gave you the impression that i'm brave because i'm really not. despite everything, i‘m still nothing more than my parents‘ marionette.“

his sigh betrayed an uncharacteristically sorrowful heaviness.

“yet you still decided to pursue writing and drawing even though i can tell that decision must’ve not been an easy one. i know they mean well, my parents. they certainly think their plans will make me happy. i don’t think they understand. i’m not sure if i‘ve tried hard enough to make them… after all, how could they—“ his voice rose as he looked up at you with a furious expression, but he cut himself off, a horrified look on his face. he quickly collected himself again. “you know what? it doesn‘t matter. i don‘t want to think about it.“

you didn‘t press on. while you did want to comfort the inner child hurting so obviously inside him, to hug him and tell him he wasn‘t a coward and that he could be strong too, you felt like it wasn‘t your place to do so. he had set boundaries and you, practically only a stranger, weren‘t going to cross them.

it was interesting to see that your seemingly perfect stranger was not leading such a perfect life after all. you felt a little guilty, but it was reassuring in a way.

the silence that followed wasn‘t particularly uncomfortable though, both of you lost in your own thoughts.

the natural beauty and quietude all around you elicited a dreamy sigh from you.

"oh, why didn‘t i think of bringing a canvas and some paint down here with me? i guess i wasn't expecting to fall in love with this place so much. i just want to capture this moment for eternity, you know?"

"you mean like a picture?" he teased. you playfully glared at him. he held up both his hands. "kidding, just kidding. let me go grab one for you!"

as he began to rise, you placed a hand on his arm to prevent him from standing. his skin was cold under your fingers and the unexpected contact sent shivers down your spine.

"oh no, stay! please, i don't want you to have to walk all the way up there. we can just bring it tomorrow."

jay quirked an eyebrow. it took you a few seconds to understand that you had just insinuated he would have to carry you down here again the next day.

"ah, no, i‘m sorry. i kind of already forgot about my little handicap. you should definitely go do something nice instead.“

"but this is nice,“ he insisted. “something about the water and watching you draw so peacefully makes me feel at ease. life is going to be stressful enough when i have to return home. and simply said, i like sitting here and looking at the view." he winked at you and you suddenly felt a little braver.

"what was that? are you flirting with me, park?" you held your head high as you said this.

"and what if i am?"

your cheeks felt uncomfortably hot. even though you‘d responded to his wooing, you now had your tail between your legs and pretended to immerse yourself in your drawing again, doing your best to ignore the foreign feeling bubbling up inside your chest.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

late that evening, you lay in bed talking to ningning about your day.

she animatedly recounted the story of how they‘d found the restaurant she used to visit with her grandmother so many years ago. the owner had still recognized her, despite so much time having passed, and had prepared the most delicious lunch for them. sunghoon waited patiently—and surprisingly quietly—as the two ladies shared stories about ningning‘s grandmother. he even tried to cheer her up afterward by making a fool of himself in public (“he looked like he was doing a rendition of the ‘there‘s squirrels in my pants’ dance“) when she‘d started crying, suddenly overwhelmed by grief.

“he can be really nice when he wants to be. i think he‘s just a little,“ she drew out the last word, “bonkers, but our energies kind of match, if you know what i mean? he attacks, i strike back. he talks shit, i tell him why he's wrong. it’s like a game. there’s definitely never a boring moment when he’s around, i’ll give him that. oh, stop looking at me like that!“ she dismissed the smirk on your face. “it‘s really not like that. man, i saw him picking his nose, that shit turns you off. and when he came back from the bathroom, his fly was open. nothing romantic‘s going on here, i promise! but i do think we could be friends.“

she clapped her hands together, super excited all of a sudden. “enough about me. how‘s it going with your handsome stranger?“ she wiggled her eyebrows at you.

your handsome stranger. right. because that‘s what he was. no matter that your heart went into overdrive whenever he‘d look at you, and no matter how much he’d made you feel seen and appreciated, you had to remind yourself that you couldn‘t really know someone after only two days. sharing only carefully selected pieces of your stories with each other didn‘t make you close.

"i mean he is really cute," you admitted with a shrug, “but you know i can‘t. i am ‘promised‘ to someone after all.“ there. you finally said it. the issue you‘d been trying so hard to forget.

"so what? it’s not like you’re dating that dude. heck, you don’t even know him yet. i wouldn’t call it cheating if you were to have something going on with jay.“

"i know but it just seems… so pointless. you know i don't do flings but it's not like i can go on dates with him either."

when you‘d come back home, you‘d likely be getting married to someone you didn‘t know and there was not much you could do about it. you wanted to say no, heck you‘d said no plenty of times already, but it was more complicated than that.

“y/n, you can always just refuse.“

“you know it‘s not that easy…“ you clenched your fists. if only you‘d been born into a different family. or maybe if you‘d actually adhered to their life plan, you wouldn‘t be in this mess right now at all.

ningning placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "i’m sorry, i do know. i promise we’ll find a way for you to take advantage of his fucked-up situation but can‘t you still have a little fun before shit goes down? a kiss or two won't be the end of the world."

bearing that in mind, you came to sit by the lake the next day, trying to steal sneaky glances at jay while you worked on your canvas.

he was wearing a sleeveless shirt that clung to his toned frame, revealing muscular arms and broad shoulders. he had swept his hair back from his forehead, which highlighted his devilishly chiseled jawline and the intensity of his sharp eyes. every sane person would ogle at him, y/n, you told yourself. he was literally the dictionary definition of handsome and sexy, so of course you‘d stare. it was only natural. haha.

the majority of your afternoon was spent transferring your previous day‘s sketch onto the canvas and then painting over the delicate lines. jay kept you entertained, reading to you from his book, and discussing it with you.

while this might not have been a date it definitely felt like one. you read a lot of jane austen, for fuck‘s sake—you realized when something was romantic as hell. painting, reading, yapping, and all that with a hot guy. what a cruel joke. the universe seemed to have its fun taunting you, like dangling a carrot in front of a donkey.

do not be mistaken, you knew this wasn‘t love. something as silly as love at first sight did simply not exist, no matter what many of your favorite fanfics seemed to say. even suggesting you had a crush would be a crude exaggeration. but it was mutual attraction, that you were sure of, and it might have grown into something more, if not for the less-than-ideal circumstances.

what was strange was that after yesterday, jay seemed more restrained. after your little heart-to-heart, if you could even call it that, you‘d started noticing things. if you didn’t look away when his intense gaze fixed on you, you found something else there, lingering in the depths of his dark eyes. hesitancy. sadness. something that felt like… guilt?

you didn‘t know what it was, but this should‘ve been a relief. not that he was potentially struggling with something, of course, but if he‘d been flirting with you without restraint, you might have caved eventually, even though you knew it was wrong.

it was possible you might have just been misreading the signs. you had a more than vivid imagination, after all, which activated mostly in situations where more thinking wasn’t necessarily productive.

he might have just not liked the idea of getting too attached to someone he wasn‘t going to see again. with each stroke of your brush capturing the lake‘s incredible turquoise hue, you pondered whether to give him your phone number or not. the promise of a reunion might soften the unease in jay‘s eyes, you thought, but then again, would you even be able to keep it?

day four of your trip followed a similar pattern to the previous two. ningning and sunghoon ventured off on their own, though still lively “arguing“ with each other (they weren't fooling you), while you and jay walked down to the lake. talking and painting seemed to become your version of wining and dining.

that day, you had packed a second canvas, determined to teach jay the basics of painting.

“theory is important, but practice is where you bring it to life.“

you guided his shaky hands as he made his first stroke.

“start with broad strokes,“ you explained, demonstrating a sweeping motion. “don‘t worry about adding details yet.“

you kneeled behind him, arm draped around his shoulder for support as you leaned forward to place your hand over his.

he tried his best, but despite your brilliant guidance, his inexperience showed. years of looking into the theoretical aspects of art weren’t nearly enough to effectively apply all his knowledge in practice. he gained a newfound appreciation for painting after experiencing firsthand how challenging it could be. though he had to admit that you holding his hand so delicately was certainly distracting him as well.

if you hadn’t been so focused on keeping your racing heart under control, you might have picked up on the way he swallowed nervously.

on the fifth day, you managed to convince the group that your ankle was already much better.

you weren‘t exactly lying, but you weren’t being completely honest either. with rest, ice, and compression, the pain had improved significantly, but walking still wasn‘t as easy as you would‘ve liked.

the thing was, you just couldn‘t trust yourself around jay anymore. the urge to kiss him had completely spiraled out of control. it felt like what you imagined an omega would experience during their heat (not that you had any experience in that regard).

it was hard to keep up the facade of a calm, collected intellectual that was definitely not going insane over a man you’d met not even a week ago. to be fair, that facade had already started crumbling the moment you had outed yourself as a massive nerd, but still. this was worse.

showing him your drawings had been intimate enough, but then painting together—literally your own idea—the day before had been overwhelmingly, unbearably so. being so close to him, it had taken all your willpower not to seize him by his collar, pull him near, and passionately make out with him. but consent and having functioning brain cells were definitely more important, so you held yourself back—just barely.

his ridiculously charming smile, this sunkissed skin, his kind words—they had haunted you in your dreams that night. like okay, we get it. you want him. rein it in, cowboy.

so, for jay‘s own safety and also your sanity, you chose to endure the ache in your ankle as the group explored several towns surrounding lago di garda together.

for lunch, you grabbed fries from a booth and enjoyed them by the lakeside. that was until a seagull came swooping down with a squawk, startling you and causing you to drop your fries. ningning and you left the boys behind on the bench and hurried back to the stall for fresh, dirt-free fries.

"you still haven't kissed her?" sunghoon asked incredulously.

jay shook his head grimly. "i've already told you, i really shouldn't."

“but you want to?“ sunghoon pressed.

jay’s face contorted as if he were in pain. “yeah.“

"we‘re leaving in two days. if you want to kiss the girl, then kiss the girl, my dude. don‘t overthink it. it‘s not like you‘re pretending to be in love with her just to get your dick wet.“

"i didn‘t want to come here in the first place,“ jay said, choosing not to comment on sunghoon‘s blunt choice of words. “i wish i could take her out properly. buy her flowers. a kiss on the third date, if everything goes well and she likes me enough. not… whatever this is."

sunghoon seemed about to say more but quickly closed his mouth when he saw you and ningning approaching.

you stayed by ningning‘s side for most of the day, like a child hiding behind its mother, avoiding interacting with jay as much as possible. you could feel his eyes boring into your back as you walked ahead of him at a safe distance.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

the sky that evening was a canvas painted with the most breathtaking array of colors, transitioning from deep oranges and fiery reds near the horizon to softer pinks and purples higher up. you had dinner back at the hotel and were now sitting outside on the patio, drinking wine.

“oh, just imagine what the lake must look like right now,“ you mused dreamily, resting your head on your hands.

"why don‘t you go and see for yourself?" asked ningning, busy playing sudoku on her phone.

"i don't want to walk back alone in the dark. unless," you draped an arm around her shoulder, "you want to come with me."

ningning chuckled as she removed your arm. "do you know how many blisters i have from all the walking i've been doing?“

"i could come with you," came the suggestion from jay. all heads turned to him. sunghoon smirked at his friend. had he finally grown some balls?

you hesitated. was this really a good idea? you‘d been avoiding him all day for a very good reason.

but the sunset was so exceptionally beautiful; it might not be like this again before you left! oh, you‘d be fine.

so the two of you began the descent down to the lake once more—though you maintained a respectful distance to your companion. the scene was more beautiful than you could’ve ever imagined. the tranquil water of the lake mirrored the spectacular explosion of color in the sky. each ripple on the surface created by the evening breeze seemed to capture a fragment of the sunset, turning the water into a shimmering expanse of gold, pink, and lavender.

you were so entranced by the magical sunset that you momentarily forgot you were supposed to go absolutely feral for the man by your side.

it wasn‘t until the first stars began to twinkle faintly in the night sky, that you stopped walking along the shore taking pictures. the pebbles were cold against your skin as you settled down. siting there, you scrolled through the pictures you‘d taken, fireflies dancing around your heads as you admired what had just been lost to the horizon.

"back home, there is nothing nearly as pretty as this," you said softly.

"back home there is no one as pretty as you either."

you turned your head in surprise. now way you‘d heard him correctly. jay wore a serious expression, his gaze unwavering as he reached to cup your face, brushing a loose strand of hair to the side with his thumb. his eyes dropped to your lips.

“i know this is soon, but i’ll go insane if i don’t ask. can i kiss you?“

you blinked at him, your mind momentarily blank. there were things to be considered here but your brain did not seem to want to produce any thoughts, distracted by the sight of his plump lips and his soft touch. his thumb gently grazed your cheek.

"i only want to do this if you do too. i was trying to resist, but whenever i look at you, my heart starts pounding like crazy, and i keep on wondering if you taste just as sweet as you are."

"okay," you whispered against his lips, almost touching but not quite.

"i need a definite yes," he insisted.

"yes," you breathed out. "kiss me. please,” the last word came out almost pleadingly.

with that, he closed the gap and pressed his lips to yours. his movements were gentle, almost shy at first. jay moved his other hand to your cheek, holding your face delicately.

he let his forehead rest against yours, noses brushing against each other.

"wow," he breathed. you hummed in response, eyes still closed, trying to savor the moment.

you kissed him again, this time tangling your hands in jay's soft black strands while he let his wander down to respectfully rest on your waist. he responded to your kiss almost immediately, deepening it with much enthusiasm. lips parted and met with more vigor than before. the sounds that escaped your lips were all sorts of desperate as he caressed the soft curves of your body.

“finally, my omega is getting what it wants.“

you hadn‘t even realized you‘d said it until he pulled away, confusion in his eyes.

“what?“ he asked, still dazed from the kiss.

“oh, uh… have you ever heard of the omegaverse? a/b/o fics? well, how do i put it? humans are divided into alphas, betas, and omegas. and like omegas have these heat cycles, and when they go into heat, they need a lot of… um, GDDing or they‘ll go insane. good deep dicking? no? so, when they go into heat, they release all those pheromones which the alphas can smell and like they‘ll lose their minds if they don‘t do the GDDing immediately. and then there‘s knotting. that‘s when the alpha‘s penis swells and becomes engorged and then—“

“y/n,“ jay interrupted gently, rubbing his nose against yours affectionately, “i love your ramblings, i really do, and i promise you can tell me all about it later if you’d like. but right now, there‘s something else we could be doing instead?“

you swallowed nervously. “right.“

your own inner omega in heat activated again as soon as he started nibbling on your lower lip. you clung to him desperately, afraid he might let go, eagerly chasing his lips the moment he pulled away even just a little. he tugged you closer, positioning you to straddle him, allowing for a more comfortable angle to kiss. your head was quiet for once, allowing you to simply enjoy the sensation of being touched.

with his mouth on yours and his hands clawing at your waist, you never wanted this moment to end. the heat between you intensified, the world fading into a distant background. every touch, every desperate caress fueled a fire within you, igniting a longing that was almost scary, so intense and foreign was it.

eventually, though, you had to part to catch your breaths. jay rubbed soothing circles on your back with one hand, holding your face in his other as he stared into your eyes, whispering sweet nothings.

there were so many things you wanted to say, but didn't. thoughts of your fiancé back home flooded your mind.

jay continued to whisper sweet nothings as he held you in his arms, but there was so much that was left unspoken between you.

you needed to tell him. maybe he‘d know what to do, how to make this work. not now though; it‘d only ruin this sweet moment. you‘d do it tomorrow.

when each other's bodies were no longer enough to keep you warm, you decided to return to the hotel. he held your hand as you walked up the winding path, each squeeze communicating unspoken words, a silent exchange of emotions.

he bid you goodnight, his lips grazing your forehead. you were left a blushing mess as you went to sleep. ningning's light snores accompanied you as you were gradually transported to dreamland.

"what do you mean they're gone? how can they just be gone? they weren‘t supposed to leave until tomorrow." ningning said, her voice tinged with disbelief. soobin gulped nervously.

“i’m sorry, i don’t know the details. it seemed like an emergency,“ he replied, conveying what little information he had.

gone. they had left without a word. you felt your chest tighten as the reality of their sudden disappearance set in. the abruptness of his departure felt like a slap, leaving a raw, aching void where his presence had been.

“jay did ask me to give you these, though.“ soobin handed you the little frog figurines jay had bought on the first day. a small note was stuck to the underside of the one that resembled you.

i am sorry, please do not hate me. thank you for everything. you truly are special.

ningning and you had no choice but to spend the remainder of your last day alone. sulking by the pool, you lamented the short time spent together. one more day wouldn‘t have been much, but they hadn‘t even left their numbers or any other way to contact them. it was like a punch to the gut, not only to you but to ningning as well.

you wondered if there really had been an emergency. maybe you‘d managed to scare him away with your omagaverse talk. “you truly are special,“ you muttered to yourself bitterly. he probably meant special as in a fucking lunatic. god, who talked about knotting in the middle of making out? at least you hadn‘t gotten to mpreg yet or he'd have bolted immediately.

the next day you boarded an early flight back to seoul. you held onto a faint hope that maybe, just maybe, your mother would at least be relieved you returned safely. any normal parent would be concerned when their child disappeared for a couple of days without a word. only you didn’t have normal parents.

instead of relief, you were greeted with cold fury as your mother watched you enter through the front door. she barely spoke a word, grinding her teeth as she commanded you to go to your room, treating you as if you weren‘t a grown adult.

your room was your sanctuary, your safe space amidst the chaos that was your family. four large shelves divided into regular novels and manga held your literary treasures alongside funko pops of your favorite fictional characters (lots of todoroki and sailor moon). there had been instances where your mother had tried to throw everything out, hell, she’d even torn up some of your books, but you refused to let that force you into submission.

in one last desperate attempt to escape your situation, you chopped off most of your hair. if your “fiancé“ was anything like your, and presumably his, parents then he might just straight up refuse to marry you the moment he‘d see you. you thought the short hair suited you, but people could be incredibly shallow in such matters. you hoped this was one of those times.

“what have you done?“ your mother‘s sharp tone was a mixture of disappointment and outrage. she paced back and forth, gesturing to the remnants of hair strewn across the bathroom floor. “you knew how important today was!“

your mother took a step forward, her face flushed with anger. “you never listen, do you?“ she barked, her voice trembling. “you never consider anyone but yourself.“

you squared your shoulders, meeting her gaze defiantly. “maybe i‘m tired of trying to please you, mother.“

"i‘m trying to protect our family‘s interests,” she retorted, “and sometimes that means making sacrifices for the greater good. this merger with their family‘s hotel chain is crucial for our future. can‘t you see that?“

no matter how you pleaded or reasoned, nothing could sway your mother. you understood how important this merger was to your family‘s business empire, and you weren‘t so ignorant that you couldn‘t acknowledge the potential benefits. yet, you didn‘t understand why you were the one who had to sacrifice their own happiness for the sake of the family. one that had never cared about you, at that.

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

the restaurant picked out for this pivotal first meeting with the chosen family exuded opulence and refinement, its interior bathed in the warm glow of chandeliers that reflected off polished wood and marble accents. as you arrived, the other family was already seated at a table near a large window overlooking a serene garden.

the mother of your fiancé greeted yours with a firm handshake, her slender figure clad in a tailored designer suit and exquisite diamonds dangling from her ears. she stood up gracefully upon your entrance, obscuring your view to the man seated behind her.

"park jiyoung, meet y/n, my daughter,” your mother introduced, her tone awfully chippy. “unfortunately, there was an accident at the hairdresser‘s, so please excuse the hair. i‘m sure it will grow out soon.“

under mrs. park’s scrutinizing gaze, which rivaled your own mother’s, discomfort pierced you like a dagger.

"welcome, y/n, to our family. it's nice to finally meet you.“ the fake smile on her lips suggested she hadn’t yet quite approved of you as the most suitable match for her son.

“and this is the pride of our family, park jongseong. i believe you‘ve met."

she stepped to the side, revealing the man sitting behind her. he stood up and reluctantly stepped forward.

he was wearing a dark blue suit that elegantly emphasized his broad shoulders, while his neatly styled black hair gleamed under the soft chandelier lights. his eyes, dark and narrow, were cast downward toward the natural stone flooring. there, discreetly nestled against the skin of his neck, you saw a detail that momentarily froze time for you.

a heart-shaped birthmark.

memories flooded your mind — turquoise waters, steep mountainsides, fireflies swirling around your head, fingers digging into the softness of your skin. standing before you now as park jongseong, the man chosen to be your husband, was unmistakably your jay. the one who had kissed you and told you you were special.

the same jay now seemed less surprised than you felt. he avoided meeting your eyes, looking like a guilty puppy caught in the act, and a suspicion stirred within you that made your stomach churn. you felt sick. impossible, you thought. but looking at the man, no, the stranger in front of you, you weren‘t so sure.

his gaze darted around the room, landing everywhere but on you, as if unable to face the weight of your shared history and the unspoken questions hanging between you. every instinct in you yearned to reach out, to demand answers, to plead with him to acknowledge the bond that had once felt so real. yet, his avoidance spoke louder than words, filling the air with a painful silence that echoed the betrayal you felt.

had it all been just an act?

a/n: omg i love you sm if you made it to the end! reblogs, likes & feedback are always highly appreciated 🫶🏻 🫶🏻🫶🏻

ngl i hope y'all don't hate me for not making this a cute simple love story LMAOO i'm already working on a part 2

here are pictures of lago di tenno btw! i didn’t lie about the color

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whinlatter · 2 years ago

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Harry’s thoughts of Ginny in the Forest: a meta

‘Nothing too big, because you wouldn't be able to take it with you... I wanted you to have something to remember me by.' - DH, p. 99 (UK edition)

Here I am, on a rainy Thursday, doing re-reads for some writing and thinking about the parallels between Harry and Ginny's kiss on his birthday, and Harry’s thoughts of Ginny as he goes to his death.

I’m thinking differently about Ginny’s motivations for the kiss these days. I used to think about her words to Harry that morning, and the act of kissing him, as a promise she’ll wait for when he comes back. Lately, I’m wondering if it’s not something sadder, and more profound. I think what Ginny does on Harry’s seventeenth is the act of a person who is starting to process the fact that the person she loves is likely going to his death — that he might not be coming back. It's a scene of a person bracing for grief and thinking about love after death, and it will set the stage for how Harry meets his own death in the Forest.

So here’s a much-too-long meta to help me think through these ideas - about the kiss, Ginny’s suspicions about Harry’s fate, and what it means that Harry returns to the memory of Ginny at the end of his life. (Stick the kettle on for this one and if you worked this all out long ago before me, just give me an eye roll and forgive me).

I’ve always taken Ginny's words to Harry before their kiss at face value. I thought of it not quite as a fun scene - it’s certainly sad - but sweet, a little sexy, and sort of reckless, even a bit mischievous on Ginny’s part.

It’s the birthday of the boy Ginny loves. They’re not together anymore. She knows he's going away. She wants to give him a birthday present, but she doesn't want to give him something he has to haul around or might lose. She does want to let him know that, despite their separation, her feelings are still the same. She craves a moment with him before he goes. She is still in love with him, she is deeply attracted to him, and part of her still feels a bit possessive. Although she’s not really concerned Harry’s going to crack on with some Veela, she does want him to have a memento of their time together. She wants him to have a happy memory, of physical intimacy and emotional comfort, to keep him going while he's away, to feel less alone.

Most of all, I used to think of the kiss (and whatever Ginny imagined might come after the kiss) as a promise. I still love you. Even though we’re not together and I respect why you have to go, I’m still all in on this. I’ll wait for you for when you come back. I want you to have the memory of this, as proof.

Harry’s reveal

But the more I’ve thought about it, the more I think about the context of when this kiss happens, after Harry and Ginny's last conversation before his birthday. It's the one a few days before, when Harry and Ginny are laying the table for dinner, and Harry lets slip to Ginny what he, Ron and Hermione will be doing when they leave:

'‘And then what does she think’s going to happen?’ Harry muttered. ‘Someone else might kill off Voldemort while she’s holding us here making vol-au-vents?’ He had spoken without thinking, and saw Ginny’s face whiten.‘So it’s true?’ she said. ‘That’s what you’re trying to do? ‘I - not - I was joking,’ said Harry evasively. (DH, 78-9, UK edition)

This is a desperately sad scene, but it’s also an important moment. Harry, so used to having his guard down with Ginny, realises he’s accidentally confessed something big: that he’s going on the run to try and kill Voldemort himself, with Ron and Hermione’s help.

Ginny is shaken by this. As a character, she tends to either take things in her stride, or yells first, processes later. But this catches her off guard. Her words suggest there has been speculation about what it is the three of them are going off to do (‘So it’s true?’ suggests that Ginny, and perhaps other members of her family or the Order, have been speculating about this for some time). But both she and Harry realise here that he’s flippantly confirmed something huge that Ginny did not already know for sure. He’s spoken aloud the task is that Dumbledore has left him.

It is a sign of how close Harry feels to Ginny, how safe he feels in her company, and how difficult he finds managing keeping secrets from her, that he lets this slip. He won’t come as close to telling the truth to anyone else, even people he trusts. The scene before this, in his conversation with Mrs Weasley, he didn’t let on nearly as much (though he admits that he found affirming the importance of secrecy difficult when he looked at Mrs Weasley and saw Ginny’s eyes staring back at him):

‘Well, Dumbledore left me . . . stuff to do,’ mumbled Harry. ‘Ron and Hermione know about it, and they want to come too.’ ‘What sort of ‘stuff’?’ ‘I’m sorry, I can’t—’ ‘Well, frankly I think Arthur and I have a right to know, and I’m sure Mr. and Mrs. Granger would agree!’ said Mrs. Weasley. Harry had been afraid of the “concerned parent” attack. He forced himself to look directly into her eyes, noticing as he did that they were precisely the same shade of brown as Ginny’s. This did not help… ‘Dumbledore didn’t want anyone else to know, Mrs. Weasley (…) I didn’t misunderstand,’ said Harry flatly. ‘It’s got to be me.’ (DH, 77-8)

Later, he’ll also refuse to give any information to Lupin, for the same reason.

'‘Can you confide in me what the mission is?’ Harry looked into the prematurely lined face, framed in thick but greying hair, and wished that he could return a different answer. ‘I can’t, Remus, I’m sorry. If Dumbledore didn’t tell you I don’t think I can.’ ‘I thought you’d say that,’ said Lupin, looking disappointed.’ (DH, 173-4)

But with Ginny, he’s accidentally gone much further. He hasn’t said Horcruxes, but he’s as good as. The trio are setting off to try to kill Voldemort, the most dangerous task imaginable in this war. He tries, in vain, to undo it, but the damage is already done. Ginny knows more now than she did before: that the journey he’s about to go on is one that very likely will claim his life.

What does Ginny know about Harry’s fate before this moment?

It's clear from this interaction that Harry has never discussed any of this with Ginny before. In their breakup scene, Harry repeatedly said that he was breaking up with her for her own safety. He said he did not want her to be used as bait, as she already had been previously, and as Sirius was: 'Think how much danger you'll be in if we keep this up...' (HBP, 602). The focus was entirely on the risk to Ginny's life, a risk Harry says he cannot live with.

Ginny’s remarks at Dumbledore’s funeral told us something about how she, at that point, understood the path ahead for Harry. She made her half-joke that Harry was always busy saving the Wizarding World, and says she thinks he 'would never be happy', never fulfilled or satisfied, unless he were 'hunting Voldemort' (HBP, 603). She showed she interpreted his actions as choices being made by someone brave, determined, and personally committed to bringing about the end of Voldemort, not someone destined to. Harry’s motivations and reasons are ones she respects and empathises with. She knows the path ahead is dangerous. She doesn’t yet think of it as lethal.

Harry didn’t respond to her assessments at the funeral, neither correcting nor confirming them. He didn’t let her know, at that stage, exactly what it is he is going to set off to do. The closest Harry came to revealing the road ahead for him in the break-up scene was this:

'It’s been like… like something out of someone else’s life, these last few weeks with you,' said Harry. 'But I can’t… we can’t… I’ve got things to do alone now.' She did not cry, she simply looked at him.’ (HBP, 602)

This is a pattern throughout their relationship, both as friends and later as romantic partners. Ginny knows a little, but not a lot, about Harry’s path. She thinks of it almost entirely as a decision he has made himself. Conversations about Harry’s destiny - about the Prophecy, about being the Chosen One, and, eventually, about the Horcrux hunt - happen near Ginny, but never with her. She does not seem to believe that Harry is the Chosen One or in any way bound to Voldemort's own fate. At the start of HBP, on the train in Slughorn’s carriage, Ginny states publicly her belief that any speculation about Harry being the Chosen One is nonsense:

‘We never heard a prophecy,” said Neville, turning geranium pink as he said it. ‘That’s right,’ said Ginny staunchly. ‘Neville and I were both there too, and all this ‘Chosen One’ rubbish is just the Prophet making things up as usual.’ (HBP, 140)

Ultimately, before DH, Ginny has been given very little information. We can assume that she’s decided to respect Harry’s decision to keep any information from her and not to push for it. She has reason to fear he might be in danger, but she doesn’t yet know the full extent of it.

Ginny’s response

The immediate aftermath of Harry’s confession at the Burrow is very telling.

‘They stared at each other, and there was something more than shock in Ginny’s expression. Suddenly Harry became aware that this was the first time that he had been alone with her since their stolen hours in secluded corners of the Hogwarts grounds. He was sure she was remembering them too.’ - DH (79)

It’s important that, immediately after this confession, Harry’s mind immediately takes him to private time spent alone with Ginny at the end of HBP. His certainty that Ginny, too, is reminiscing about them is typical of their wordless displays of understanding. They both reach for memories. And the memories of the last time he was alone with her, when they were still together, suddenly trigger an intense emotional and sexual tension. They are soon interrupted, and the dinner afterwards is extremely awkward. Harry wishes he were further away from Ginny, and tries, with great difficulty, to avoid touching her at the dinner table. The energy between them is intense and charged, anticipatory and frustrated. There are lots of ‘unsaid things’ that have just passed between them, and both are aware of it (DH, 79).

There are important themes being introduced here. Whenever Harry thinks about memories of his time with Ginny in DH, he does so consistently in two clear ways. To him, those times were private, intensely intimate moments which carried huge personal significance. It is strongly implied those were moments of sexual intimacy between the two of them, and where they shared an emotional closeness neither has found with any other character. But those moments with Ginny are also something Harry feels he was wrong to take. His relationship with her was something that, in retrospect, he embarked upon against his better judgement. He now feels it was something he was not entitled to, on account of his own burdens and obligations. Those were ‘stolen hours’ that were ‘something out of someone else’s life’. If we look to the wedding scene, we can see this most clearly:

‘‘Yes, my tiara sets off the whole thing nicely,’ said Auntie Muriel in a rather carrying whisper. ‘But I must say, Ginevra’s dress is far too low cut.’ Ginny glanced around, grinning, winked at Harry, then quickly faced the front again. Harry’s mind wandered a long way from the marquee, back to afternoons spent alone with Ginny in lonely parts of the school grounds. They seemed so long ago; they had always seemed too good to be true, as though he had been stealing shining hours from a normal person’s life, a person without a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead…’ (DH, 121)

There are certain tropes at play here, that will that recur again and again in Harry’s thoughts of Ginny until the point of his death: the memory of time alone, the feeling of shared emotional and physical intimacy, to an intense degree; the sense of their time together being something stolen, both in the sense of it being snatched from within darker times, but also being forbidden, given with Harry’s fate when it comes to Voldemort. That Harry recalls these moments at a moment as two other characters make lifelong vows of marriage to each other is not insignificant: all is set up to maximise the sense of tragedy.

Ginny processing Harry’s fate

Ginny is not naive. Harry’s confession seems to change something about how she thinks about what he’s about to do. She may once have dismissed the prophecy of Harry as the Chosen One as nonsense. But she now has reason to suspect that might not quite be true.

She may well re-trace what she does know. After all, she was at the Department of Mysteries two summers prior, where she learnt that Voldemort, at least, thinks there is a prophecy of significance that involves Harry directly. She knows Harry has been having one-on-one lessons with Dumbledore: she even gave him one of the invitations (HBP, 228). She also knows that Harry and Dumbledore left school for a secret mission alone on the night the Astronomy Tower was attacked and Dumbledore was killed. She observed how Harry saw Dumbledore’s death as a catalyst to prepare for a path that required him to step back from her. Above all, we also know that Ginny is a character who understands Tom Riddle intimately. She is one of the people who comes closest to understanding the stakes of your life being bound, in some way, to Voldemort.

It is also significant that Ginny is a character canonically intrigued, and touched, by death, and by powerful Dark magic. The diary, and her own near-death experience, is the most obvious example. But in the Department of Mysteries during OotP, we are told she is also one of the characters most drawn to the veil, despite having far less direct experience of loss and grief than Harry, Luna, or even Neville:

‘[Harry] took several paces back from the dais and wrenched his eyes from the veil. ‘Let’s go,’ he said. ‘That’s what I’ve been trying to — well, come on, then!’ said Hermione, and she led the way back around the dais. On the other side, Ginny and Neville were staring, apparently entranced, at the veil too. Without speaking, Hermione took hold of Ginny’s arm, Ron Neville’s, and they marched them firmly back to the lowest stone bench and clambered all the way back up to the door.’ (OotP, 775)

I don’t mean to suggest Ginny knew what was coming for Harry, that she foresaw him having to go to his death. She knows nothing of Horcruxes, she doesn’t know the contents of the Prophecy, and she certainly doesn’t know Harry himself is a Horcrux. Harry, of course, doesn’t yet know the certainty of him going to his own death, at this point in the text. But given the information she alone has been handed, inadvertently, by Harry, she has plenty of reason to begin to suspect the path Harry is on is one that might end in death, moreso for him than for an anyone else in this war.

Ginny doesn’t appear much in the following pages, other than in her role helping to prepare the house for the wedding. Over the next few days, she has lots of time to consider Harry’s words. We know she’s also sharing a bedroom with Hermione, who is actively preparing for their imminent departure, and watching the three of them try to sneak off together to make plans. This is time for Ginny to start to digest the information Harry has unwittingly divulged. She can now begin to think about how she ought to respond to the prospect of him leaving for a mission that will, likely, cost him his life.

The kiss itself

We can see Ginny has planned this interaction with Harry in her bedroom. The false casualness of how the scene opens - ‘Harry, can you come in here a moment?’ - and the actions of the bedroom’s other occupant, Hermione, suggests some level of premeditation and collaboration. For the first time, Ginny brings him into her bedroom, with the door closed. The setting is obviously intimate and suggestive.

Harry describes Ginny as seeming nervous, but purposeful, like she is readying herself for something - she ‘[takes] a deep breath’. She is looking at him ‘steadily’. Harry is nervous, too: he cannot bring himself to look at her, finding it almost painful, like ‘gazing into a brilliant light’ (DH, 98). Her trademark blazing look is in full force. She doesn’t entertain his attempts at small talk: she is serious about what she’s about to do.

‘‘I couldn’t think what to get you,’ she said. ‘You didn’t have to get me anything.’ She disregarded this too.’ (DH, 98-9)

Ginny opens by revealing how difficult it has been for her to work out what she could give him, under the circumstances. She is, in her own way, acknowledging how hard she is finding processing what it is he has to do now. She has been struggling with the prospect of Harry’s departure, and the possibility, even the likelihood, of his death. But she has decided she wants to make that path easier for him. Despite his reassurance, she insists she wanted to give him something.

‘‘I didn’t know what would be useful. Nothing too big, because you wouldn’t be able to take it with you.” He chanced a glance at her. She was not tearful...' (99)

These lines are so significant. The first two lines in particular are deeply profound. They read very differently to how I first thought of them, if seen in this light. I didn’t know what would be useful, she says, because she doesn't know what she can say that will be useful. What could possibly make this easier, to help Harry think about the enormity of his situation, or to help guide him on a path requiring him to accept his own likely death?

She doesn’t want what she gives to him now to be too heavy, too sad, or too serious, because she knows Harry will not be able to deal with it (‘nothing too big’). Anything too declaratory, too sentimental, or too enormous, would be impossible for him to leave with. In the last part of the sentence, her words are deliberately vague: because you wouldn’t be able to take it with you.

I think this is the most poignant part, and it suggests the part of Ginny's mind that believes in, and is curious about, what happens beyond, after death: the voices on the other side of the veil. I think there is some part of her that thinks Harry might be going somewhere she can’t reach him - what Dumbledore will later call going on. Ginny does not openly speculate about where Harry will be taking whatever she gives him. That it could be to his own grave, or beyond, is left unspoken. He looks at her, finally, after these words, because he seems to understand, on some level, what she is trying to say to him.

‘She took a step closer to him. ‘So then I thought, I’d like you to have something to remember me by, you know, if you meet some veela when you’re off doing whatever you’re doing.’’ (DH, 99)

Ginny has decided: the thing she will give him is a memory, one that he can take with him when they part. Something to remember me by. She wants the memory of her, of them, to be useful, to serve him in some way, and to be something that he might be able to take on with him after death. She tries to soften what she’s trying to convey, with the joke about the veela. But both seem to understand what she is really saying: that she isn’t really asking for his loyalty or fidelity. She doesn’t say she’s giving him ‘something to remember me by’ for when he comes back and they can be together again. Her words are very final. The joke is supposed to make it easier for him to hear what she is saying: she’s telling him, quietly, how to think about her when he leaves, whatever leaving might mean.

Harry, for his part, continues the joke. (‘I think dating opportunities are going to be pretty thin on the ground, to be honest.’) She plays along, sort of, in a very sad way (‘there’s the silver lining I’ve been looking for’). But both seem to know that there is no real silver lining to this.

And then there’s the kiss itself:

‘There’s the silver lining I’ve been looking for,’ she whispered, and then she was kissing him as she had never kissed him before, and Harry was kissing her back, and it was blissful oblivion, better than Firewhisky; she was the only real thing in the world, Ginny, the feel of her, one hand at her back and one in her long, sweet-smelling hair —’ (DH, 99)

It all comes to a head here. Harry recognises that this kiss feels exceptional, unlike any other they’ve ever shared - that Ginny has never put so much into a kiss before. It is ‘blissful oblivion’, this moment of extraordinary intensity, where she kisses him and allows him, for a moment, to think only about her and them together. It’s heady and sexual (‘the feel of her’). It’s a gift for Harry to be able to forget everything and let this moment be a vacuum, to focus only on her. The crescendo effect of the short causes and run-on sentences allows the moment to build and build, a crescendo effect that anticipates something to come.

Of course, their moment gets interrupted, again. Unlike when Ron interrupted her with Dean, Ginny doesn't rage at him this time: she is subdued, a response that is far more appropriate for her processing the fact that she may have just had her final kiss with the boy she loves. Harry suspects she has started to cry, something he notes is out of character. Ginny had imbued a lot of meaning into this interaction: this is a portrait of a character whose heart is breaking.

When Harry and Ron are discussing the kiss outside on the lawn, after the initial shock of being yelled at by Ron for going anywhere near Ginny, Harry has his own, shattering realisation of what all of this means for himself and Ginny:

‘Yeah, but you go snogging her now and she’s just going to get her hopes up again—’ ‘She’s not an idiot, she knows it can’t happen, she’s not expecting us to— to end up married, or—’ As he said it, a vivid picture formed in Harry’s mind of Ginny in a white dress, marrying a tall, faceless, and unpleasant stranger. In one spiralling moment it seemed to hit him: Her future was free and unencumbered, whereas his . . . he could see nothing but Voldemort ahead.’ (DH, 100)

Thinking aloud, Harry says it would be idiotic for he or Ginny to imagine they could be together, either now, or at any point in the future. He expects her to find someone else; he cannot even begin to imagine a future for himself after the task set out for him. He does not say his inevitable death - he has not yet embraced that reality - but he remains caught in the certainty of an existential battle with Voldemort that he knows he may well not survive.

Later that day, Harry will receive the snitch from Dumbledore’s will. Though he doesn’t know it yet, he now holds the resurrection stone, the item that will open at the close in the forest. It is a birthday that starts and ends with hints about what little time he has left: the stage is set for an arc that, now, has to end in his own death.

Foreshadowing Ginny and the Forest

Moments foreshadowing the significance of the forest are all over Deathly Hallows. Sometimes, they mirror the moment of his own death; often, they are related to Ginny. When they leave the Ministry, with Ron splinched, clutching the Horcrux locket, they arrive in a forest. For a moment Harry’s heart ‘leaped’ at the thought that they were back in Hogwarts’ grounds, the site of so much of his earlier happiness with Ginny (DH, 221). When the trio hear that Ginny, Neville and Luna tried to steal the sword of Gryffindor, it is the Forbidden Forest they are sent to by Snape as punishment (248-9). Harry does not fear the Forest, and is consoled by the thought of Ginny serving detention there rather than anywhere else.

In the Forest of Dean, the scene where Ron returns begins with Harry thinking of Ginny. He sits at the mouth of the tent, wanting to look for Ginny on the Marauders’ Map, until he remembers it’s Christmastime and she is at the Burrow (297). Later, in a moment that mirrors his later walk to his death, he follows his mother - Snape’s patronus, the doe - into the woods, in order to recover and destroy the Horcrux, inching Harry’s own life closer to its close:

Though the darkness had swallowed her whole, [the doe’s] burnished image was still imprinted on his retinas; it obscured his vision, brightening when he lowered his eyelids, disorienting him. Now fear came: Her presence had meant safety. “Lumos!” he whispered, and the wand-tip ignited. The imprint of the doe faded away with every blink of his eyes as he stood there, listening to the sounds of the forest, to distant crackles of twigs… He held the wand higher. Nobody ran out at him, no flash of green light burst from behind a tree. Why, then, had she led him to this spot?’ (DH, 299)

Foreshadowing Harry's end in the Forest means also foreshadowing Ginny's own appearance at the moment of his death.

Harry’s ‘death’ in the Forest

In the final battle, Ginny is the last person Harry sees before he begins his walk into the Forest. He takes the words she says to the child on the ground as her final act of comfort. Harry hears them as if they are being spoken to him:

‘He was feet away from her when he realised it was Ginny. He stopped in his tracks. She was crouching over a girl who was whispering for her mother. ‘It’s all right,’ Ginny was saying. ‘It’s okay. We’re going to get you inside.’ ‘But I want to go home,’ whispered the girl. ‘I don’t want to fight anymore!’ ‘I know,’ said Ginny, and her voice broke. ‘It’s going to be all right.’ Ripples of cold undulated over Harry’s skin. He wanted to shout out to the night, he wanted Ginny to know that he was there, he wanted her to know where he was going. He wanted to be stopped, to be dragged back, to be sent back home (...) Ginny was kneeling beside the injured girl now, holding her hand. With a huge effort Harry forced himself on. He thought he saw Ginny look around as he passed, and wondered whether she had seen someone walking nearby, but he did not speak, and he did not look back.’ (DH, 558-9)

Harry believes that this is his final moment with Ginny before he goes to die. A part of him wants her to know that it’s happening: he is leaving, at last. But he can't call to her, because he worries she will try and stop him, and he might let her. Instead, he walks on, and doesn’t look back. After watching Ginny comfort the girl crying for her mother, Harry then goes on to the Forest, and summons his own mother, his own family, to walk with him to his death.

‘His body and mind felt oddly disconnected now, his limbs working without conscious instruction, as if he were passenger, not driver, in the body he was about to leave. The dead who walked beside him through the forest were much more real to him now that the living back at the castle: Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and all the others were the ones who felt like ghosts as he stumbled and slipped toward the end of his life, toward Voldemort. . . .' (DH, 561-2)

Harry is already preparing to go on from this world: his living loved ones are the ones he now feels furthest from. He stands now with the dead he has summoned, who recognise him and seem to have memories of him. He doesn't fear the dead: he is going to join them.

It’s the death scene itself that I think has subtle, but important parallels with the kiss scene much earlier. In both imagery and in writing style, the scene recalls that earlier moment, where Harry found himself on the edge of another kind of oblivion. There is this mounting, febrile sense of anticipation. There is a tension that is almost sexual, a dynamic injected into the scene through descriptions of Bellatrix’s body language and behaviour towards Voldemort:

‘Bellatrix, who had leapt to her feet, was looking eagerly from Voldemort to Harry, her breast heaving. The only things that moved were the flames and the snake, coiling and uncoiling in the glittering cage behind Voldemort’s head.’ (DH, 564)

The ugly parallel of Bellatrix and Voldemort is not supposed to show the pair as the mirror image of Harry and Ginny. Rather, it is a theme that recurs throughout the series to demonstrate the gulf between Harry, with his immense capacity for love, and Voldemort, with none. Bellatrix and Ginny are memorably paralleled twice in the series: once, at the Department of Mysteries, where Bellatrix moves to ‘torture the little girl’, and Harry steps in to prevent her (OotP, 783), and again in the final battle:

'Bellatrix was still fighting too, fifty yards away from Voldemort, and like her master she dueled three at once: Hermione, Ginny, and Luna, all battling their hardest, but Bellatrix was equal to them, and Harry’s attention was diverted as a Killing Curse shot so close to Ginny that she missed death by an inch— He changed course, running at Bellatrix rather than Voldemort, but before he had gone a few steps he was knocked sideways…’ (DH, 589)

As Harry waits for the killing curse, we see the most direct parallel with Ginny's final kiss to him:

‘None of the Death Eaters moved. They were waiting: everything was waiting. Hagrid was struggling, and Bellatrix was panting, and Harry thought inexplicably of Ginny, and her blazing look, and the feel of her lips on his — ’ (DH, 564)

There's such an intense physicality and breathlessness to the whole scene, and an enduring pseudo-sexual tension, with Bellatrix audibly panting. Even the sentence structure even invokes the kissing scene: the run-on build up of clauses, the repetition of the present participle to actively hold the reader in one present moment, building and building and ending on a dash, the promise of something more.

At the end of his life, Harry returns to the memory Ginny gave him. She meant for it to be useful, if he was to go to his death. And at the close of his life he chooses to use it, as he prepares to leave her behind in this world and depart for the next. Just as the Resurrection Stone helped accept death, so too does the memory of Ginny. He feels the memory of her, the sensation of physical touch and of being kissed, the look she gives him that he knows as one of love and great courage. As he is killed, he remembers her last gift to him, the certainty of her love for him impressed upon him.

There's a line in OotP that I think is such an underrated line that sums up who Ginny is as a character. Harry is trying to get to Umbridge's fire to speak to Sirius when he thinks the latter is being tortured at the Ministry; Hermione suggests using Ginny and Luna as a distraction, despite Harry's objections:

'Though clearly struggling to understand what was going on, Ginny said immediately, ‘Yeah, we’ll do it,'... (OotP, 736)

This is who Ginny is. It's especially who she is to Harry, during the war. She doesn't fully know what's actually being asked of Harry (and, by extension, what is being asked of her, as the person who loves him, and who has most to lose if he is to die). But even when kept in the dark, she is enormously selfless, and her biggest act of bravery is extremely quiet. She keeps the secret Harry accidentally bestows on her, and she realises, in some sense, before he does, what it will likely mean for his life. She chooses to let him go on, knowing that he is loved, to make the path that he is on a little bit easier, even when she has realised that it will take him away from her for good.

#well that was longer that it needed to be #when in doubt write your way thru ur thoughts #pointing out foreshadowing and gasping is a full time job #justice for the birthday smooch basically #man said: blissful oblivion and also oblivion as in my DEATH #too deep in this to work out if this is even insight at this point #hp analysis #meta #harry/ginny #harry and ginny #hinny #harry x ginny #harry potter #ginny weasley #deathly hallows

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florence-is-gay · 11 months ago

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hiii!!! im a fan of your work and was wondering of you could write some hcs of the mercs with an autistic s/o?? i struggle with autism and reading these things kinda helps. thx sm!!! :ooo

Absolutely!! I'm so glad you enjoy my headcanons, i haven't written any for quite a while lmao

--EDIT FROM YEARS LATER OML-- I had this sitting in my drafts completed with all mercs except for the last 3 listed, between procrastination and life and falling out of the fandom I guess I just eventually forgot... Once in a blue moon I'd come back to this post and think... "I'm sorry tomatosoopp... I will finish this for you one day. Maybe not now, or later, maybe not even soon... but... eventually. I promise." I hope things are going well for you, you've probably long forgotten your ask but I genuinely hope seeing this finally answered will bring you joy and make your day <3

I know it's late to say it, but Merry Christmas and Happy New year! Perhaps you can consider this as a long overdue gift, from me to you! I hope this year will bring you lots of wonderful and amazing things <3 Love, Flo (P.S., I also added a bit to the shorter blurbs at the beginning... To make up for all that time! Now enjoy your long awaited post, my friend! <3)

SCOUT

Scout is pretty ADHD, and we all know how that's the peanut butter to his S/O's jelly. He gets excited with you about the things you love! And stims? Oh yeah. Leg bouncing, pen chewing, and the likes. So he won't judge you when you excitedly flap your hands or smack your thighs/any available surface. In fact, he'll share his fidgets with you when he notices you're feeling nervous or stressed. Sometimes he forgets you are extremely empathetic and sensitive to high energy or strong moods, so if he gets too excited or angry or anything of the sort he will do his best to calm himself as to not overwhelm or overstimulate you!

SNIPER

Sniper's not much of a talker, but he loves to listen to you ramble! Sometimes just the sound of your voice makes him smile! Also since he knows how tactile you are, he doesn't mind letting you feel his scars, tracing your fingers along and across them. He also lets you scritch his stubble, and he finds your reaction both amusing and adorable! Also, if you love nature, Sniper is your perfect guy! He'll take you for long walks in the woods or along hiking trails, not minding if you are slow or simply taking your time to stop and observe every little detail <3

ENGINEER

Engie loves all your little quirks!! He thinks you're the cutest darn thing on the planet! He'll definitely build you some fun fidgets and stimmy things! He also has earmuffs for when he's working with machinery, if you're feeling overstimulated he'll let you borrow them! Additionally, he enjoys relaxing with you by a fire just to chill out and play his instruments! He knows you have a fondness for music, so he tries to learn your favorite songs! He is also the type to always check on you to make sure you eat and drink <3

HEAVY

Like Sniper, Heavy isn't much for words. He doesn't mind silence, so he's perfectly okay with you zoning out, staring into space, or just lost in your thoughts. He also understands when you have a hard time wording things. He still struggles with English. And if you're feeling anxious or overwhelmed, he'll scoop you up in his big arms and hold you like a lil baby, and gently whisper words of praise and comfort. He'll also let you take naps in his arms <3 Like Engineer, he likes to make sure you don't skip meals. He doesn't always understand that some food textures are unpleasant, but he tries his best to find something you like!

DEMOMAN

Demo LOVES cuddles. He won't admit it to the other guys, but he finds it soothing. He knows you love to lay your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. He also gives great hugs! You told him once that you enjoy physical pressure on your body, so he'll give you extra-firm hugs, and sometimes he'll lay right on top of you to take a nap! He definitely will gift you some weighted blankets, along with some fun beanbags just to mess with. He also makes sure any touch on you is firm and grounding. Additionally, if you have a habit of sleeping a lot, it's no worry for this man! He's perfectly happy to pass out with you for 12+ hours and STILL have room for naps! As long as they are with you, he is happy <3

PYRO

Pyro themselves are nonverbal autistic, so honestly to them, you are the most normal person out there! They have hyperactive tendencies and struggle to pay attention to anything too long, but when it comes to you, you have their full attention! (To the best of their ability, anyway!) They will happily share their love for fire and cute things with you, though they also love when you share your hyperfixations with them! Not only that, but they will often bring you gifts relating to the things they know you love! Should you ever feel sad, touch-starved, or understimulated, just know Pyro will always be by your side to give you the best cuddles and hugs you could ask for!

MEDIC

If you are someone who is always psyched to learn new things, Medic is your perfect guy! He knows a lot about physical and psychological health, including autism! He will take time out of his day to educate you on your brain and why it works the way it does! He will do his absolute best to keep you informed so you can better understand yourself! (Even if at times you get tired of his lecturing) He also knows that you are very hands-on when it comes to many projects, so he will allow you to assist with simple tasks in his lab! He also knows you struggle with your health habits, aka hygiene, sleeping, eating, drinking, etc., so expect this man to be on your back! He wants to make sure you take good care of yourself <3

SPY

Spy is a bit of a tricky one. He seems completely unbothered by all of your quirks, almost to the point where you wonder if he even notices them. Rest assured, he certainly does! But he does his best not to bring attention to it unless you are the first to bring it up. He wants you to feel as though your autism doesn't define you, after all, you are more than your disability! At times he may challenge you to break from any bad or unhelpful habits, such as nail biting and pulling hair, or more serious matters like harmful stims when you get upset. Unrelated, he knows you are a person of the senses. So any gift to you is always a high-quality item: scented soaps and lovely colognes/perfumes, clothing that is soft and pleasant to touch, weighted blankets, and any type of small heavy object that may be grounding. Not to mention foods he knows you'll eat, since taste and texture can sometimes be an issue. Of course there is more, and if you don't like scented things and find soft textures on your body displeasing like some, he will accommodate for that as well! And lastly: Don't let him catch ANYONE making fun of you! They may not live to see the sun tomorrow.

SOLDIER

Honestly... He might also be autistic. No one knows for sure, but even if he was, he would loudly and proudly deny it. Loudly seems to be something the two of you do well-- you may find yourself struggling to control your volume in your excitement, but that's okay! He does too! Though he may also partly be hard of hearing from all of those rocket blasts... Regardless, the two of you seem to match each other's energy to near perfection- Yelling and screaming about nonsense, singing loud and off-key, even just making animal sounds or random noises incomparable to anything on this planet... Still he enjoys your company, neither of you really seem to be able to get a handle on social cues, but to heck with those! They're all confusing anyway! At least you understand each other! Additionally, the two of you may also struggle to remember things, especially short-term. But you're a good dynamic, always reminding each other what was forgotten! (...Just don't act surprised when he wants to recite to you the Declaration of Independence by heart for the 5th time that day.) And lastly, if you ever tell him you're autistic, surely he will tell you that you are American. And should you attempt to explain what autism is, more than likely he will assure you that you aren't (even if you clearly are-) and that you're perfect! He sees a lot of himself in you and he thinks you are the best thing since the birth of America <3

#tf2 #florence writes #tf2 headcanons #autistic s/o #tf2 mercs with autistic s/o #ask #florence answers #tomatosoopp #team fortress 2

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scamanderishredmayniac · 2 years ago

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Newt Appreciation Month!

I was initially planning to take up a challenge for Newt’s birthday month, as it’s Newt’s birthday on the 24th February. I wanted to dedicate this moth to Newt with some prompts, that fans could answer if they so wished to take part in the way they did with Tina’s birthday in August. I wanted to use the same questions, but with Newt’s name and in regards to him instead. I was supposed to make the grid with the questions on it, and have it up today but it seems I’m a little late. I was so preoccupied with another challenge during January, that I didn’t manage to finish it on time. To be honest I’d started ages ago, but I’m queen of procrastination, and always seem to do everything last minute dot com.

So the prompts will come a little later perhaps, or at least the fancy (ok really badly made picture grid) will be posted up a bit later than expected, as I’m still working on it. It’s proving to be a little more trickier than I thought. I’m not as talented as the fbevents page admins who normally host these things. But as you saw not so long ago they are no longer holding events for Fantastic beasts in general and doing things mainly for Tina instead it seems. But I’m determined and want Newt to be celebrated, and I want to do something for his birthday, so I thought if I want to take part in doing something, I’m going to have to be the one to host it myself. Even if I’m the only person doing it, then so be it. My prompts, fan fics, fan art barely get much recognition, so I’m not holding my breath in anyone joining me, because people usually don’t and my things mostly go ignored anyway. But I’m going to do it, and I’m going to celebrate Newt because I still love the Fantastic Beasts films, and want them badly. And I still love Newt and he still holds a special place in my heart.

Anyway I’m going to post the prompts as a list for the time being, so you can all see them, while I make the grid, and if you want to join in, that’d be great. I’d appreciate it. So here are the prompts for this month:

Day 1: Five things you like about Newt

Day 2: The first moment that made you fall in love with Newt

Day 3: Describe Newt in 3 words

Day 4: something you have in common with Newt

Day 5: cutest Newt moment

Day 6: if you could meet Newt, what would you want to say to him? Or do with him?

Day 7: Favourite Newt quotes

Day 8: Favourite Newt moment with Tina

Day 9: Favourite Newt moment with others

Day 10: Favourite Newt moment of all time

Day 11: Favourite Newt none romantic relationship (friends/family etc)

Day 12: Favourite interview about Newt

Day 13: Favourite headcannon about Newt

Day 14: Favourite theory about Newt

Day 15: Favourite Newt AU

Day 16: Favourite Newt costume

Day 17: Favourite Newt’s item/belonging

Day 18: Favourite Newt hairstyle (his hair did look different in each film, so which film hair did you like?)

Day 19: If you could adopt one of Newt’s beasts, what would you chose?

Day 20: A song that reminds you of Newt

Day 21: Favourite Newt merch or wish you could have

Day 22: Favourite fan art

Day 23: Favourite fanfic

Day 24: HAPPY BIRTHDAY NEWT - post a fanfic or fan art for his birthday

Day 25: Favourite fan video edit

Day 26: Favourite graphic/edit/GIFF/aesthetic

Day 27: Top 5 favourite Newt accounts

Day 28: what do you want to see for Newt in Fantastic Beasts 4/ future plot?

You can do this any way you like, draw fan art, write fan fic, share pictures, videos etc, or just a simple answer the question or whatever.

Lastly I’m going to pin this post so I can refer back to it, which means my normal pin with my intro will disappear from the top of the page. Eek! I’ve decided maybe I will pin prompts each time I take part in something maybe. Anyway let’s celebrate Newt for February. We can continue using the usual birthday tag FebulousNewt or if anyone has anything better, then let me know. Because I can’t think of anything creative. Or we can just go with NewtAppreciationMonth.

#newt scamander #Newt appreciation month #Newt’s birthday #celebration #prompts #febtabulousnewt #fantastic beasts

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mermaidsirennikita · 8 months ago

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ARC Review: Love, Lies, and Cherry Pie by Jackie Lau

3.5/5. Releases 5/7/24.

Vibes: fake dating, modern P&P, family marital pressures, writer heroine

Heat Index: 6/10

At thirty-three, writer and barista Emily Hung is facing more pressure about marriage than ever before. More than anything, her mother is pushing her towards Mark Chan, who definitely thinks he's above Emily. (Does he, though?) But Emily really wants her mom off her back. And Mark's willing to go along with the charade... So what's the harm in a few fake dates? And if family happens to catch them on one date, I guess they'll have to plan another one! And another, and another...

I think that with romcoms, there's always a careful balance of sweetness (happy moments, some humor) and savory (sexual tension, the sense of ohmygodisitgonnahappenforthem?). Some people prefer romcoms that lean more sweet, sometimes they prefer romcoms that lean more savory. I am a "make sure it's got the sweetness it needs, but lean a little more savory" reader. And I know that's kind of ridiculous, but I'm saying this to lead to: this is a sweeter romcom. (Although it does have solid sex scenes!) A lot of people love a sweeter romcom, so there's no flaw in the system here. It just may have been too sweet for me.

However, it's well-written and engaging, and couches a kind of normal "fake dating to keep Mom off my back" setup in lovely descriptions and dialogue and dynamics. I recently saw a discussion surrounding fake dating that was like "Are you tired of the fake dating trope, or are you tired of the fake dating trope written by and about straight white people?"

And... that's a concept. I think that fake dating honestly lends itself much better to leads who have more traditional cultural pressure pushing them towards marriage. That pressure? Is not nearly as great for the vast majority of white Americans as romance wants us to think it is, let's be real. (Those for whom it is often come from more conservative religious backgrounds, and THEN we have something else to discuss.) When Jackie Lau writes this marriage-minded mama in the twenty-first century, I believe her because of the way she sets up and describes this mom. I believe that Emily is so over it, and I believe that she would resort to fake dating. It works here.

Was it just a little too on the side of nice for me? Maybe. But I really respected what she was going for.

Quick Takes:

--This sounds insane to say, but I loved reading a contemporary romance heroine who's thirty-three and doesn't have her life all figured out. I mean... that should be normal, but it's not in romance.

--One thing that I do think would've made this work a little more for me is faster pacing. Mark isn't in the book for the first chunk all that much; in some ways I get it, because this builds up Emily's idea of him. But you also don't have his perspective until later in the book, and I just wanted a little more, a little faster.

--There is a really great sense of family in the book, and I feel like that gave me P&P vibes the most. You have this overbearing mom, all of these people (including little nieces) dying for Emily to get with someone. It felt very true to life and also VERY classic romcom.

The Sex:

The sex comes a little late in the book, with a few scenes that are... not less than explicit, per se, but definitely edited in an interesting way. Exciting things are being done (there is face-sitting) but it cuts to another action, not another scene, so quickly? I think we could've lingered on the detail a little more.

However, there is a good buildup, and a strong chemistry between Mark and Emily. I liked what we got, I just wanted more... luxuriating.

So, while I can't say this was a slam dunk for me, I do believe it will appeal to romcom readers who prefer a little sugar. Perhaps... cherry pie?

Thanks to NetGalley and Atria/Emily Bestler Books for providing me with a copy this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

#romance novel blogging #arc reviews #netgalley #romance novels #books #book reviews

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nonnonblog · 10 months ago

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The Ridiculous Umbrella of Mr. Lerin

Hello there! I’m sorry, I’m a bit late, but I wasn’t certain what I wanted to post today. This story is one I’ve had on the back burner for a while, as when I first wrote it I wasn’t sure if it was what I wanted it to be. Now, after rereading it and editing it a few months later, I think it is ready. Its different in tone than what I normally write, but it still has the same style. I hope you all enjoy… The Ridiculous Umbrella of Mr. Lerin!

The Ridiculous Umbrella of Mr. Lerin

The lights flickered overhead, as the man slouched in order to avoid coming in contact with the ceiling. Erin looked up at this… creature of a humanoid, as it finally reached him. All light from the electric chandelier disappeared from the ridiculous size of this man and his pointed umbrella. It was a ridiculous umbrella. It was long enough that the man could use it as a cane. Erin wondered how much of the sun was swallowed when it expanded.

“H—hi, Mr. Lerin! W—welcome, we, ah, we…”

Mr. Lerin crouched down, so that perhaps he could mimic a normal height. But Erin was a child, so the kindness just felt patronizing.

“Where is your mother,” Mr. Lerin asked without really posing any question.

Erin pointed. It was easier than trying to overcome the whole talking thing.

The light returned, as Mr. Lerin left the room. It was flickering unsteadily, though it always had done that. At least it was there!

“You all good, sonny?” a cracking, pitched voice asked from one of several shadows the room had to offer. This voice was dwarfed by the one that had come before it, the one that still lingered in the room like the stench of wet wool.

“Y-y-yes, yes I am,” Erin told the ghost. There were a lot of those in this house. He didn’t know all of their names, though this one was named Asper.

“Excellent, that is good to hear.”

So yes, there were ghosts here. Two kinds, in fact. You’ve met both.

Let’s call them G1 and G2.

G2, or Asper, as Erin called it, was one of those idiots that only hid in shadows. Who didn’t accept the fact they were only sort of dead, who hoped to move on so much that they never fully took advantage of the fact they had a second chance. I recognize that definition is unfair of Asper, as Asper is almost a G1 at this point, but that is just a display of Geoffrey’s Theory. A G2 will become a G1 with time. An idiot can’t be an idiot forever, eventually they have to act.

Okay. As you might have guessed, Erin is not the narrator. I wish he was. No, I’m Arnollo Lerin, sadly. And yes, I have confidence in that my umbrella is ridiculous in nature, just as my height is ridiculous. There should be a limit to a man’s height, as eventually you’re just challenging the mountains, and I am terribly confident that I am not as good looking as those big rocks.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Lerin! Welcome, welcome. I’m sorry if Erin was caught off guard by your appearance, he isn’t used to your type of visitor,” Angelica announced as my back bent further to get under the doorframe.

“He was caught off guard, but I wouldn’t blame him.” I looked around the room, spinning in a slow, messy circle. The place was filled with bronze gears and silver keys. “I see your work is coming along nicely.”

“Hopefully, hopefully.” Angelica smiled, and shook her head, “Anyways, dear Lerin, do you have what I requested of you?”

“I do not, actually,” I shrugged, a movement emphasized by the length of my arms, “hopefully it wasn’t important.”

“Mr. Lerin!” Angelica stepped forwards, towards me. She had a woodcarver’s knife, which was not a terrifying tool, but in the hands of this specific individual it was foreboding. It felt longer than it was, closer to my neck than it was. “You of all people know that is just not the case!”

I nodded, careful of the motion so that I did not crack my skull against the ceiling. I did have an uncertain alliance with ceilings, which I did not wish to disturb. “I do know. But I also know that, as of this moment, I quit.”

“Quit!” Angelica laughed, twirling her knife in a lackadaisical arc from one hand to the next, “fancy yourself an independent, do we now?”

“No,” I brought up my umbrella, so that it was between myself and this hollow woodcarver, “just dependent on something else.”

“Mm.” Angelica nodded, “I suppose, though you’d be wrong. I have contacts, Lerin. I know how the world works. You don’t.”

I nodded, “I know.”

“No, you don’t, dear. If you did, you would stay in your place. You already failed this game called life once, you really shouldn’t attempt it again.”

I nodded again. “You’re right about that. But that is why I’m a G2. I’m too stupid to figure out where I’m supposed to go next. Right?”

Angelica raised an eyebrow. “Geoffrey’s Theory?”

“Yes.”

Angelica opened her mouth again, but I was done losing this conversation so I stabbed forwards with my umbrella. It hit my former boss in the neck, and her neck collapsed in on itself as I poked a hole right through it. Angelica stumbled back, touching the spot I had just made, and glared at me. Her lips moved, but no voice came out.

“You know, if you were truly hollow you wouldn’t have a voice box anyways,” I pointed out.

Angelica thrust her knife to the side, and I saw a glimmer of silver to my left. Already close to my neck. I reacted as calmly as I could in such a scenario, and opened my umbrella. The resulting blast of air pushed Angelica back, her shoulders cracking along the wall. Her strike halted, hopefully. Hopefully.

I could still breath, so yes, it had. But that was a temporary solution. I couldn’t see her now. There was a giant umbrella very much in the way.

I struggled to get the umbrella closed, before Angelica could get another strike ready.

But it was too long a struggle.

Yet the strike never came.

The hollow woodcarver was actually defeated. Well, this version of her, at least. Huh. What in the heavens do I do now?

I barely registered myself as I opened the door to the closet, letting the table stuffed in there crawl on out. It bumped into my leg in thanks. I moved to walk on out of the house, but stopped halfway. For there was a child in the way.

“What was that noise?” the child asked, for once not afraid.

“Me killing your mother,” I said. It was blunt, but I don’t think there was a better way to say that. “I thought it was necessary?”

The child just stared, not comprehending. A ghost, the Asper fellow, moved in between me and Erin.

“Good choice,” I said, smiling slightly, “protect the child. Congratulations! You’re now a G1. Anyways, I will leave you both alone. Just don’t chase me down and kill me in vengeance, and we’ll be on good terms.”

I moved a solid arc away, going around the edge of the room. The table— the one from the closet— was still following me. Not sure why. I left the house, and it was raining. I wasn’t going to use that umbrella of mine, because I didn’t enjoy fighting things that didn’t really affect me. The street was long, lit by a rhythmic series of slumped lanterns. Forward bound I was, I guess. With my new table.

It was always an experience, seeing a G2 gain the confidence to become a G1. Someday I will get that title as well. But for now, I’ll just stick to my own. Ridiculous height, ridiculous umbrella, as some wise woman once told me. A dead wise woman I’m leaving behind, but a wise woman nonetheless.

The End

If you are interested in reading any more of my other pieces, please consider checking out my website, the Non-Non-Blog, through the link below!

#creative writing #fiction #ghost stories #short story #umbrella #writing #writing experiment

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justsomeoneunordinary · 1 year ago

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Hewwwwo you !

I just saw the post about tbiz qpr thing. It seems super interesting cause I've never really read founders as aspec. Except for maybe one Tobirama story i think. Can't remember. But to be in a qpr one or both will be aspec right ? (Or perhaps not ! Maybe They are pretending ‽!?!!‽ For whatever reason, it kinda seems on brand with them)

I had read your stories for tobirama week and izuna week and tbiz week on ao3 before ! Those were really really really really really good !!!! Izu casually murdering people who criticised his brother one and the sensei Tobi one with koharu getting her first period, are my favs 😭😭😭🥺❤️

Anyway, just wanted to say that it is a super interesting idea and if you do write it that would be amazing.

I understand completely if you don't want to. I didn't mean to pressure you as well. I'm really sorry if it comes across that way.

Hope you have a great day/night ! ❤️✨

anon, i- 🥺🥺💕💕💕💞💞😭😭♥️🥺♥️💞💕💞💞🥺

i just transformed into a puddle of goo and for once it's not because of the current summer heat.

thank you so much for your interest and your kind words and- ajschhsjhsdkjdshjdahj!!! 🥺♥️

the sensei tobi one is one of my faves as well, ngl. so i'm delighted to know you like that one too! 💖 (i actually still have a fic more to add to each of these week events. some day. whenever that may be.🌚 (listen, at this point i don't write for the week events; i just let myself be inspired by the prompts and then post whenever. sometimes it happens to align with the event, and sometimes... not so lol))

there are actually a few qp tbiz fics out there! i can't link you to any of those because brain empty but there's a HUGE one in which izuna accidentally creates a soulmate link between him and tobirama. i never rlly read it cause it's too long for me (the moment we breach 300k, i am lost,,, i'm sorry but 200k is my general max) but i've only ever heard good about it! if anyone has the link at hand, drop it pls ♥️

HA! it's actually NOT a story in which both are aspec! tobirama is actually very allo in this story, precisely because he often gets headcanon'd as aspec solely because he's more closed off which i find an annoying reason as it's often the more closed-off characters that get the aspec stamp. as if extroverted characters can't be aspec for some reason ??? :D

so yeah no, it's an allo tbrm and aro izn (and aroace mdr but he's just a side character here (honestly, i always see mdr as aroace unless i ship him with tbrm at the moment cause i want them to fuck nasty but in literally any other non-mdtb story he's aroace in my mind no matter if i mention as much or not)) story in which tbrm falls in love with izn but the latter can't reciprocate those romantic feelings. but like hell will izuna lose his best friend over something as stupid as unrequited romantic feelings. so, they make it work anyway :)

i've written a synopsis for every part down by now (once words stopped doing what i wanted them to do grrr) but i'll have to put it away for later because i really want to finish first the remaining marvel femslash fics before the late submission time is over. this idea just jumped at me while i was away on a festival and rlly didn't have the time or means to write it down. 😭 and it's getting much longer than expected, so it'll have to go to the back-burner for now. at least the important parts are summarized before i forget them lol.

so yes it will happen. just not now :)

and your message didn't come off as pressuring at all - on the contrary. i'm very happy to hear you're interested in my scribbles!! thank you SO much for your very kind message!!! hope you have a lovely day/evening!! ♥️♥️

EDIT: found the massive qp tbiz soulmates fic: HERE YOU GO :)

#may answers #anon #this got rather long should i put it under a read more or... ?#... naaah it's not that long

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branmuffins22 · 10 months ago

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I'm under no illusion that this week will be as productive for me as last week, lmao. Think I put at least 1,000 words to page thanks to you guys, and I had a lot of brainrot stored up. But I've still got some plans, so I've still got a path forward. :P

And thanks again to all those well-wishers!

Filenames (all are fanfics of The Owl House):

Masha and the Very Normal Nocedas; a post-finale, pre-epilogue, Veesha-centric longfic about Masha's increasingly crazed attempts to figure out the whole Deal™ with Luz, Vee, and Hunter. Meanwhile, the Nocedas are trying as hard as possible to be normal and inconspicuous, made difficult by their various traumas, talents, and a certain purple palisman's refusal to leave her witch's side. It's a light-hearted mess. I've still got some edits to do to the chapters I've already written (mostly for flavor), and I'm still trying to draft the second half-ish of chapter 3 (it's already been outlined), but once all that's done, I should be able to start posting with a comfortable buffer.

Something Like a Bible; a test document of sorts for my canon rewrite, tentatively either the "Artificer AU" or "Overthinker AU", going over the broad-strokes plot and its divergences from canon via a series of short scenes and vignettes. The characters and motivations remain almost entirely unchanged, but I'm lengthening and rearranging the timeline to explore new plots and leave more space for supplemental adventures in the season 2 equivalent, as well as doing perhaps a bit too much worldbuilding, headcanon dumping, and so on. I still need to finish fleshing out the second half of the season 1 equivalent, but then I can pick up with the meat and potatoes of the magic system exploration in.

Small Town Paranormal Investigations; an episode from the aforementioned AU, in which the Hexsquad and Cabin 7 team up to, as the name suggests, investigate some paranormal activity in the small town of Gravesfield. It's mostly about the ghost hunt, but it'll also include Vee coming out to her friends from camp. I'm writing this one in something as close as I can manage to the style and pacing of the show, and I'm still in the opening scenes, with small blurbs written of later bits, so there's still a lot to do. Thankfully, the brainrot has been very kind to this fic lately. Here's hoping it continues to be so.

Snippet from Something Like a Bible:

After she had stumbled down that weird hole in the forest, she found herself in what she initially assumed to be something straight out of The Legend of Hilda, a kind of cross between its Pathless Woods and one of the grottos, only with no secret sequence of directions to take her to the end, nor a magical elevator to lift her out. She'd already tried simply walking out of the clearing, but after fighting through a dense wall of foliage, she only found herself emerging from the opposite side. Painfully video-gamey. Snapping back into focus, she walked toward the edge of the clearing, before digging in with her heel to draw as wide a circle as she could keep neat, and got to work etching a massive ice glyph, by her guess somewhere between 20 and 30 feet across. She should've counted herself extremely lucky that the clearing had plain dirt at the bottom, rather than grass or moss or whatever, but she was already struggling to keep a cool head, and didn't have enough presence of mind to truly appreciate such things. "🎵Draw a glyph, cast a spell; hope I haven't gone to— heck." Mama didn't raise a delinquent! …But Eda might've. "...hell," she whispered, giggling at how freeing it felt. "damn. Mierda! FUCK!" If nothing else, she could enjoy having nobody around to witness the evisceration of her morals. Maybe she should go ahead and relieve herself in one of the nearby bushes while she's at it? She suddenly regretted having Viney reverse the spell that turned her into a boy the other day in Healing; being able to pee standing up was a kind of freedom she didn't think she'd miss so much, well worth the weird chafing from her underwear not fitting right. The original duration wouldn't have even been that bad, especially if it meant she didn't end up so annoyingly desperate now. Ugh, FOCUS! Get OUT of here first, find a bathroom LATER!

WIP Wednesday Game

It’s WIP Wednesday, time for a little accountability, sharing your work, and getting a kick in the pants.

Here’s how it works:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. I’ll be searching the reblogs to find people to send asks to!

If you’re reading this, you’re invited!

If you see someone posting a WIP Wednesday Game snippet, send them an ask! Make them write.

Requested/Friend event mentions under the cut! If you'd like to be pinged next week, let me know!

Friends @fiore-della-valle @redbirdblogs @greenbergsays @idkfandomwhatever @luckyspike

@obaewankenope @mad-madam-m @anonymousdandelion @geometricfractal @prettybirdy979

@eriquin | Requests @aparticularbandit @madnessfromthemountains @makeroftherunes @1attheedge

@whimsicalmeerkat @kidsomeday @lizhly-writes @skyderman @adhdavinci

@owlbearwrites @anachronismstellar @anyctibius @rilannon @lazinesswrites

@zyrafowe-sny @dreaminghour @blue-eyedbeta @candyskiez @dreamerking27

@kalira @virgulesmith @i-want-delfeur @selkies-world @exceedinglygayotter

#wip wednesday #ask games #Something Like a Bible #sometimes #you find yourself in a shitty situation #and youve also gotta pee #and thats really the least of your concerns #but it still sucks #and kinda exacerbates every other problem youre facing

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bellamyblake · 2 years ago

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hii how are u??? do u have any ideas for a modern au where clarke and bellamy are exes and they slowly grow back together? i feel like it would be so much fun to navigate and very interesting to read :)

Hey, I can only really write haedcanons now because I have two big WIPs I'm currently working on but here's what comes to mind:

EDIT: It got a little cheesy but *shrugs* I’m sorry! (not sorry).

I’ll also use this as a post for #thebestofthe100 celebration cause I wanted to post a headcanon for it but never found the time to:

she thinks later on when they separate that maybe they were doomed from the start; they never really liked each other at first-he was suspicious of her rich status and her being Octavia's best friend while he was the older quiet brother who raised his sister and kept to himself and his two friends who were Murphy and Miller;

still, with time they got closer; whenever she hung out with Octavia at their place, they'd talk and soon enough their bittering turned into talking about favorite books they had in common or music they enjoyed;

he helped her out with her history homework, she gave him a hand with the Biology stuff even if he was older than them and soon to graduate;

when Octavia met Lincoln and Clarke got together with Finn, she lost track of him for a moment and but every day a thought passed through her head and that was: she missed her late night conversations with Bellamy on the old back porch of their old creaky house;

she was brought back to Earth when Aurora died all of a sudden, having a heart attack at work; the strain from trying to support her kids her entire life and taking endless shift after shift finally caught up with her;

her death broke Bellamy in two; he blamed himself for not pushing her to go to the doctor, for seeing she was bad and weak but not doing anything, for not insisting on taking her to a specialist when their GP told her a few months back he didn't like her blood pressure;

he got even quieter, started drinking more, going out with Murphy and Miller on Friday and sometimes not coing back till Sunday evening; Octavia was too broken herself to try and bring him back but Clarke wasn’t going to give up that easily;

when they brought him home beaten and bruised late one evening, she send Murphy away and picked up the pieces of his broken heart; she forced him in the shower, turned on the cold water and gave him a speech about getting it together and figuring this out because it's not what his mom would've wanted.

“I don't know what she would've wanted" he disagreed "She's not here to tell me."

"Yeah, well I am and I won't take this, so get up and sober up. You have school, work, your sister and your friends. You have me. And you need to start living for us." he had looked up at her, eyes filled with pain and tears, then he broke down and let her hold him in her arms while he poured his heart out;

it worked because he started getting better; he showed up for class, his grades picked up, he went back to work; they needed money now that they no longer had Aurora to help out, so he got a second job in construction on the weekends;

their late night conversations made a reappearance; with Octavia staying at Lincoln more, Clarke felt like she didn't want to leave him alone in the house; that led to a kiss one night when they were watching a movie and soon after to something more;

she had always known she's loved him, perhaps from the first moment she met him and he snorted some sarcastic remark in her direction with his eyes telling a different story than his attitude was, though; he had felt it too and now they were finally letting themselves live it;

Octavia didn't mind, in fact, she was happy, so were the rest of their friends; it was the happiest of times but she couldn't help but feel like there was a darkness pulling him down and away from her, like he was keeping some sort of secret;

on his Graduation day she finally found out what it was; it was Miller's fault really, he let it slip, asked him about when does he leave for bootcamp; Clarke's face paled,her mouth dropped and she let go of him;

"Please tell me you didn't" she begged in a whisper and he looked down at his feet "You did NOT!"

"I did." he said back and when he looked up at her again, she couldn't help herself-she was so angry, she slapped his cheek and run off;

the Army was something he talked about before when Aurora was still alive; he planned on signing up for a tour, getting enough money for college and coming back home; he hadn't talked about it after her death and whenever Clarke picked up the subject of his future, he simply shrugged and said he'll get a full time job at first and then figure it out;

he did talk about them though-being with her, living together if Octavia's plans to move out with Lincoln came through; she had just a year before she graduated and then she wanted to start nursing school in a nearby town despite her mom's disagreement on the subject;

he found her under a tree by the river close to their house, one of their spots and the first place they came in together in all the senses there were; she was crying and staring at the river;

he sat down and picked up her hand in his;

"Why?" she asked "I don't understand."

"I can't explain it either. I just know I have to do it." he said back "It's what my heart says. I think it always did, I just didn't listen. I don't want to go to college...and I don't want to work contruction all my life, breaking my back like my mom until I died."

"No, you'd rather die before you're even twenty." she snapped back.

"I won't die."

"You don't know that."

"You're right but nobody really does. Just look at my mom."

"You can't use her as an excuse for this. You can't tell me this is why you've enlisted. Aurora would never agree with you doing this long-term." he smilled and brought her knuckles to his lips, kissing them softly.

"I know you won't understand and that's okay. I just hope you'd give me a chance to explain, to show you what that when I said I want to be with you, I meant it." that made her furrow her eyebrows.

"How?" she said confused, brushing her tears away. He smilled again and picked up something from his jeans pocket before he took out a small finger that Clarke knew used to belong to Aurora.

"Marry me?" he asked simply and somehow the question made all the sense in her head despite everything else; they were young, she hadn't even graduated, he was going to war, she had no idea what their future would be like but she said "Yes";

they were married in the small church Bellamy and Octavia went to ever since they were children, two weeks before he was supposed to leave for boot camp; her mom didn't come, Octavia was the maid of honor, Murphy the best man; there were maybe fifteen people in total but Clarke had never been happier;

those two weeks they spent together sharing their home and going to the beach in the nearby town had her feel like she was flying;

but then reality settled in and he had to leave; she could say she understood his choices better now but there was still a part of her that kept asking why;

things were good during his first tour-they would talk at least twice a month and exchanged letters all the time; Clarke saw the way his eyes beamed when he talked about work, realized how much he actually loved being a soldier and her heart came in terms with the fact that this was what he was meant to do;

he came home just in time for her graduation; had a month off;

he reenlisted without consulting her and they had a small argument about it but he said that he hoped she understands;

then she started nursing school and that made things difficult; he was sent out on missions more; he got hurt once-a through and through in the shoulder that she found out about two weeks after it had actually happened because he didn’t want her to worry; their conversations lessened;

when he came home the second time, he was quieter, couldn’t sleep well, had picked up smoking-a habit Aurora had uprooted from him when he tried it at sixteen;

she knew he had been through some stuff-he lost two members of his team-a guy called Sterling and a woman named Monroe but even when she asked, he wouldn’t talk about it;

when he left this time, they didn’t talk about when he’d come back; she found out he was reenlisting yet again in the middle of his third tour; she was second year in nursing school and felt like things were changing; her life was different from his and his from hers; she wasn’t sure they had any common ground anymore; they had an argument about him going for another year and he said “I thought you understood that this is what I intend to do Clarke.”

“For the rest of your life?”

“For as long as I can.”

“You never told me this will be a career, Bellamy.”

“I thought you knew.” he said simply quietly, his voice did not belong to him, she thought;

“I did not.”

they had stopped with the letters at the beginning of his third tour, the calls got less and less frequent; she came to a point where she wasn’t sure she felt like she was married to someone at all;

it was Octavia who talked with her when she felt like she had to put an end to this; she understood and told her it was the right thing to do; Bellamy was not himself now and if it was meant to be it would but it wasn’t healthy for either one of them; “I feel like he’s on a suicide mission and has been ever since mom died. You have to think of yourself, Clarke.”;

so Clarke sent in one last letter, putting her ring in the envelope;

he didn’t call, didn’t try to talk her out of it; she had no idea what his reaction was and Octavia who still spoke to him, made sure not to share anything but Clarke could tell she was worried;

they finalized the papers in less than a month; his lawyer took care of everything here; Clarke was offered a chance for a one-year nursing course in LA and she decided to take it;

in the next couple of years she heard from Bellamy just a few times in the forms of cards he sent for her birthday or Christmas; they ended with “Always yours, Bellamy.” and she kept them tucked at the bottom of her messenger bag that she took everywhere;

it was almost six years after they split up that she finally saw him again; she had been through more love and breakup in that time but ultimately felt like her heart wasn’t where it was supposed to be, like it belonged some place else;

Octavia called her in three in the morning, crying, asking Clarke if she could come pick her up because Lincoln was out of town;

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s Bellamy. He got really hurt. They’re bringing him back home.”

he doesn’t look like himself lying on that hospital bed all lifeless and beaten, his body wrapped up in more bandages she can count; he’s hurt his leg and would walk with a cane for the rest of his life, his heart had the same murmur his mom did that killed her but they only found out about it now, he’s deaf and blind on the left side, has multiple burns all over his body;

when he opens his eyes five days later the first thing he sees is her and he cries; she throws herself in his arms and holds him tight;

“You idiot. I would’ve killed you if you died.” he chuckles at that;

“Impossible, princess...even if you did, I’d still be yours.” he took her hand and moved it to his heart when he looked into her eyes “I’ve always been”

#bellarke fanfiction #thebestofthe100 #bellarkeedit #bellamyblakeedit #clarkegriffinedit #bellaarke #bellarke fanfic #exes #enemies to friends to lovers #kinda i guess?#my writing #hope you like it nonnie #maybe it's not what you pictured but...i hope it's okay

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delicrieux · 4 years ago

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 "𝚘𝚑"

PART 8: CAT BOYS

... it’s late into the night and y/n is streaming with one of her new friends, sykkuno. running on caffeine and redbull is apparently not enough because she falls asleep on his shoulder 45 minutes into their cyberpunk gameplay. at that exact moment, twitter goes up in flames.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (because i was threatened by thirsty anons) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 1.8k author’s note: here it is...what yall been asking for. literally had to add a new part for this but i loved this idea sm i couldnt just nOT NOT do it. i tried writing this with the same energy as the smau lmao so expect chaos as always. hope you enjoy it and as always lmk what u think! hopefully yall wont go too feral, but tbh thats prolly too much to ask for xx EDIT: srr for the fucky format tumbler dot com is being lame

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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Such a back and forth continues for the better part of the day as you get ready. Corpse only whines a bit when you forget to text him back - you are packing, and your prestigious cat ears you bought from Amazon for 10$ deserve exquisite care - which only fuels your seemingly bottomless hunger for mischief, leading to you sneakily ignoring him more. When your phone lights up with a message, you giggle, giddy with excitement. Your laughter only gets louder and more erratic, to the point where Rae had busted down your door and threw her Hello Kitty plush at you - one you’d gotten her, mind you! - and told you to just “Shut the fuck up!”

Ungrateful. You know not everyone can appreciate your sense of humor, or stand your hyena like cackle, but that was uncalled for and you told her as much. Noting the mess your room is in (more than usual, that’s for certain), she leans onto the door frame, crossing her arms over her chest, pretty brown eyes twinkling curiously, “Where you off to?”

“So I had this idea-” You start, but are promptly shut down with a raise of her palm.

“Already know it’s a bad one.”

Insulted, and hurt, you clutch your heart. As if she had not mocked you enough today, “Rae...The hell, that’s so mean...” You mutter, face scrunching into a soft frown, “I only wanted to tell you what me and Syk thought of.”

“Oh?” Intrigued, she raises a brow, “Continue.”

“Gee, thanks for letting me this time.” You mumble, rolling your eyes, “So. We thought we’d stream together. The catch? In the same room! We’ll be playing Cyberpunk. Gotta cash in while the hype is still up.” You add, making her snort, “And, ya know, the whole cat boy business...We’ll be wearing matching cat ears. Admit it, I’m a genius.”

She’s quiet for a moment, mulling over your words; you can practically see the gears in her head turning. She glances around the room, then briefly at you, strangely apprehensive. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

Well, that is definitely not what you expected her to say. You figured it’d be more along the lines of you’d be one ugly cat. “Huh?” Is all you manage to stutter, “What do you mean?”

She gives you a look, one all people give when something is so plainly obvious, “Y/n. You do know the stans will go wild, right? And you do remember our conversation involving Corp-”

“Nope!” You exclaim cheerily with a bright smile to match. You don’t want to think about that. The relationship between you and Corpse is strictly platonic, and besides, seeing Twitter loosing their shit is always funny, and you never miss an opportunity to mess with your fans. Sykkuno is also a good friend, albeit a new one. This supposed flirting from Corpse’s end Rae deduced was nothing more than her projecting her feelings onto the situation. She always liked shoujo anime and was probably thinking one was happening right in front of her. Not a chance. Corpse was just being a friendly crackhead. Your energies mesh beautifully.

Like, beautifully in a strictly friend way. Absolutely nothing more than that.

She gives up, naturally, arguing with a wall would be more productive than arguing with you. You’re such a (Zodiac sign).

“Well,” She mumbles, ticking her head to the side, leaning off of the door frame and turning to leave, “Don’t say I didn’t tell you so.”

Your grin melts as soon as she leaves. Glancing at your bag, you shove your last necessities in with newfound hesitance.

Nothing bad will happen, right?

...Right?

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It is well past the generally set “appropriate” time to hang out, but since quarantine, what is appropriate anymore anyway? You’ve never been in Sykkuno’s apartment, but now that you’re here it’s...strangely him. Every corner seems tailored to his specific requirements. It’s cozy, and pleasantly warm - it’s a bit chilly in LA, as surprising as that is.

He’s even shyer than you remember him being. And a whole lot more awkward, but in an endearing way, a way that makes you want to laugh and try to reassure him that it’s just you and he has nothing to worry about. While you hung out only once, the history you share is rich and tender. From him following you on Twitter and subsequently prematurely ending your stream, to kidnapping a stray cat affectionately named Juan. His long lost brother, Juan (no the Second, just Juan), lives in your Minecraft server.

His stream room is sadly bare. There’s an appalling lack of merch or fairy lights. Not even led-lights. It’s a good thing you brought your own. As you try to decided which color would be best - his signature lime green, reminiscent of his adorable Among Us astronaut, or, perhaps, mischievous violet? - he boots the game and tweets out a quick “streaming with y/n in ten mins! come one come all!”

“You should probably tell your fans, too.” He mumbles, looking somewhere above your shoulder. You settle with cherry blossom pink. Glancing at him, you shrug.

“Ah, do it for me, please?”

“Oh!” He hiccups, “Uhm, I wouldn’t want to pry and I don’t know your password and-”

“It doesn’t have a password.” You had removed it, knowing something like this would happen. Bless your foresight, you did not want him to know it was demonspiitinmymouth. Before he could protest further, you rush to the nearest mirror to put on your cat ears and make sure they aren’t crooked. You look absolutely adorable. The cat boys in your dms will go feral. Hell, you might just go feral looking at yourself! Sykkuno is not ready. No one is. This will be a stream to remember.

When you return (with flourish of course), he’s anxiously fidgeting by his computer, his own little cat ears, one’s he wore for the Halloween stream, peaking out from his silky brown hair. You have to suppress a squeal. When he catches you gaze he gives the kindest, sweetest little smile.

“They, uh--” He points at you, then decides it’s rude to point, bringing his hand back to his lap, then clutching his mouse, lastly releasing a sound stuck between a chuckle and a wheeze, “suit you, uhm, a lot!” He finishes with a resolute nod, quickly spinning in his chair and away from you.

This is the reaction you desired. All is going according to plan. Is this what God feels like? If not, then you pity her. She’s missing out.

Taking a seat next to him - he had been gracious enough to haul you a spare chair from the kitchen - you draw closer, and he, instinctively, shrinks away with another nervous chuckle.

“You have, uhm... I-I didn’t look!” He quickly chimes. You raise a brow, “Uhm, unopened messages? From Corpse? He texted you when I was tweeting! I didn’t mean to look, I’m sorry-”

Instantly, you recall the famous vine with the scandalous “daddy chill” line, though refrain from saying it aloud. You love havoc, but you’re not evil (Rae would ardently disagree with you, though). Instead, you just shrug, “’S fine, don’t worry. I’ll text him back later. Let’s start?”

He nods, but doesn’t look at you. Granted, you don’t think he glanced at you even once since you returned, “...Okay. Ready?”

“Ready!”

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You’re much too immersed into the game and Sykkuno’s twitch chat to even check what’s happening on Twitter, but your estimated guess is that everyone’s going crazy. The stream chat is unruly as well, but missing the signature Twitter spark. Most of the chaos is bravely lead by your fans. Sykkuno’s, much like the man himself, are too nice to scream so unabashedly.

Perhaps you excitement had been a bit too taxing, perhaps drinking 5 coffees and 2 energy drinks today and not enough water are to blame for the sudden drowsiness you’re feeling, but you can’t focus on the swimming chat or the abundance of cut-scenes at the starting point of the game. You steadily draw nearer and he, more composed in front of his audience, doesn’t react. About ten more minutes of hoovering by his shoulder and muttering soft commentary, and you feel yourself slipping.

The last coherent thought you have is a few choice words directed at caffeine itself for having the opposite effect of you at the worst time possible.

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You float in oblivion for perhaps ten minutes at best. Once you awake with a startle, you shower Sykkuno in shy apologies and he quickly reassures you that it’s fine and that he didn’t mind at all!

“Though,” He adds after a thoughtful pause, “not sure if it was very, uh, comfortable?”

His stream chat spams uwu and variations of similar kind. The stream continues for a few more hours before the both of you wish everyone a good night.

While you planned on wreaking absolute havoc, this sudden falling asleep was unexpected. You pondered the consequences of such an innocent, unplanned act whilst ubering home, fearing to check your phone which by now was blowing up with not only Twitter notifications but also Rae’s angry messages that vaguely read “what the fuck y/n”. Within the past two hours she had left 57 messages on all platforms collectively, including 7 calls.

Corpse’s last text was over three hours ago.

Now that’s strange. Worry festers quickly. Briefly glancing at your surroundings - the pretty glimmer of passing street lights, neon signs, familiar buildings - you decide that it’s time to check what kind of nuclear explosion you’ve caused.

Your heart drops to the bottom of your stomach as you scroll past the hundreds of tweets and mentions. Scan through Rae’s messages.

You had failed to prepare ahead. Every explosion of such kind is followed by nuclear winter. And Corpse’s lack of messages feels especially cold.

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Not you smiling like a fucking idiot reading his last message! You shrink into the backseat, afraid the driver will accidentally look into the rear-view mirror and see you a bit too happy before asking questions. Good news? Yeah, but it’s not like it’s his any beeswax! In the words of Rihanna, just shut up and drive.

This argument had not yet happened, but you’re preparing, just in case.

As you think up of potential scenarios, your eyes drill into Corpse’s goodnight text. You’ve looked at it enough. Time to turn the phone screen off. Leave the app, at the very least. When the screen dims you instantly press on it to wake it up. This is embarrassing. Maybe the deadly amount of caffeine really did mess you up, big time. Your heart races in your chest, painfully almost. You feel a bit sick. Worst of all, you can’t stop smiling.

A notification from Rae makes you snap out of it. Ah, one more demon to deal with.

However, before you talk to her, you really need to tell Twitter that you’re not with Sykkuno. And apologize to Sykkuno as well.

At least Corpse doesn’t hate you.

Fucking hell, just exit the chat you idiot!

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

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teklarn · 3 years ago

Note

I NEED A PART TWO FOR BAUKGOU’S AWKWARD CONFESSION!!

𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓽𝓪𝓵 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 𝓹𝓽. 2

character(s): katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

a/n: k the first one kinda blew up and i've been on tumblr for like a week and it made me rly happy receiving the requests ty <33 thank u for all the reblogs too !! this is a bit later than i hoped it would come out b/c half of the original fic was deleted by accident, but i’m on summer break until sept 5 so hopefully i’ll still update frequently.

𝕣𝕖𝕓𝕝𝕠𝕘𝕤 𝕒𝕣𝕖 𝕘𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕥𝕝𝕪 𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕚𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕!

summary: bakugou finds he’s rejecting his feelings for you in fear of becoming weak, however he just can’t seem to ignore you.

genre: lil angsty, fluffy at the end

warnings: cursing, one-sided pining, gave reader a quirk, the fighting scene is bs i cannot write action scenes at all im so sorry lol, second hand embarrassment for our dearest dynamight :(

word count: 2507

pls don't mind any typos! i try to edit to the best of my ability but i tend to type fast and i might miss a few or a lot of things.

- - -

read part one here my loves !!

you found yourself bored, cheeks puffing out as you swirled around the drink in your glass cup, sitting across from midoriya. he was muttering again, which you’d always found cute, however you weren’t listening this time at all.

part of the reason you’d rejected bakugou was due to the fact midoriya had requested your attention first, and not as friends. if you’d told bakugou that, it would just wound his delicate ego on top of the fact that you truly had no interest in him whatsoever.

at the moment, though, he was the only thing on your mind. there was no sudden spark of attraction you’d felt when he’d confessed. of course, anyone would find it flattering that the katsuki bakugou found you attractive. his standards were higher than the clouds.

at the moment, it felt like something was blocking your chest from feeling something for him, however you couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

“—it was amazing, right, y/n? y/n?”

your eyes flickered up to meet the emerald, wide-eyed eyes of your friend. you contemplated lying, but it was no use. shaking your head softly and pursing your lips, you set your drink down. “i’m sorry, midoriya. i’m just kind of...out of it, i guess you could say?”

he cocked his head to the side. “’out of it’?” he repeated.

“yeah,” you sighed, head pounding.

“is everything alright? maybe today isn’t the best time for this.”

“yeah,” you agreed. “maybe.”

“do you want to go back to the dorms?”

you nodded, massaging your temples. “yeah, yeah let’s go home.”

midoriya let out a soft chuckle through his nose, smiling. “alright.” he offered his hand, and you gladly let him heave you up.

“i’m sorry about this. honestly, midoriya, i enjoy your company, i really do. but i never assumed you’d catch feelings for me too—”

“too?” he blinked. the two of you continued on your way back to Heights Alliance.

you gulped. “yeah, there’s—”

“are you saying you caught feelings for me, as well?”

your eyes fell blank, lips parting in question. “no, uh. you know what? never mind.” you giggled gently in hopes the two of you would laugh it off without another thought. perhaps you should keep you and bakugou’s quiet interaction to yourself. midoriya and bakugou were already rivals enough.

the following week was agonizing in many ways. sitting beside bakugou guaranteed that you would get strange, judgmental looks. it never guaranteed his stolen glances. when you’d catch him staring, his cheeks would flare up, and you swore he had smoke puffing out his ears.

each time, he looked as if he would explode. what can you expect from a guy like him?

it was easy to assume you’d just pissed him off, though. you weren’t the type of person to tell everyone you’d been asked out, but you needed to speak to someone about it. the thought had been nagging you, stuck at the back of your mind but just on the tip of your tongue.

you even found that you were distancing yourself from midoriya, who, after asking you out, had insisted you begin calling him izuku. over everyone else, you’d choose him to speak to about the matter, but ever since you’d discovered he had feelings all along, it was strange being around him.

you viewed him differently. he shot you glimmering smiles and blushed softly when you said his first name.

“y/n?”

you twisted around to see mina rocking on her heels behind you. “yes?”

“are you okay? you seem...how do i put this.” she tapped a pink finger against her lips. “off. you seem off. is everything alright?”

your brows raised. “oh, yeah. i’m good. thanks for checking in.”

“is there anything you want to talk about?” she adjusted her hero costume. you and the rest of the girls were currently changing for another training exercise.

yaoyorozu fixed her hero costume. “i don’t mean to impose on anything, but i have to agree with mina, y/n. of course, there’s no pressure to tell us anything. you’re under no obligation to unless you need and want to talk to someone, but we’re here if you need us, okay?”

you nodded, smiling softly. “thanks you guys.”

it was the same training as before, however you were able to select a partner of your own. being that there were 21 students in the class, there was always ought to be a group of three, or one person left out. you’d come into yuuei out of pure luck, as some like to put it.

you’d found it offensive they’d assumed it was that and not your own pure skill. it’d taken a while to re-convince yourself that you were worthy of being in the class, even if you were usually the odd one out.

most students had already bonded by the time you arrived here, so finding a partner wasn’t always easy. once you and midoriya had gotten close, you two did most things together, however at the moment, you weren’t quite feeling it.

surprisingly, your eyes caught bakugou standing alone, eyes scanning the room for a partner. kirishima must have partnered up with another friend, then. it was always them together.

unfortunately, you weren’t quick enough to avoid either of them. bakugou was already trotting up to you, eyes locked on your figure just as midoriya began jogging to your side.

in perfect unison, they asked, “be my partner?” (in two very different tones, of course.)

you blinked between them, about to answer when aizawa came up behind you three.

“are you guys in the group of three?” your teacher deadpanned.

your shoulders slumped. “yeah, i guess so.”

“get to work. you’ve already wasted five minutes standing around.”

you nodded politely. “yes, sensei.”

you swallowed. bakugou’s crimson gaze was pinning you in your spot, and midoriya’s lips thinned with a lack of enthusiasm when bakugou looked back at him.

“get to work, you three,” aizawa repeated, walking away.

“i can take on both of you.” bakugou cracked his knuckles.

you clenched your fists. “we already know you’re at the top of the class, bakugou. there’s no need to rub it in our faces.”

he averted his eyes, cheeks flushing red. it was like a sad, silly way of letting you know you won this fight.

“i’ll go against you two,” you said, adjusting your hero costume.

midoriya’s eyes widened. “what? y/n, but—”

“but i’m not strong enough?” you finished for him. you knew where they ranked in strength, and while yours was just as powerful, if you let one thing slip, your arrows would disappear and you’d be dust. “that’s exactly my point, you two are practically at the top of the class with your quirks.”

“tch, don’t hold back,” bakugou said, readying himself.

“don’t go easy on me,” you mocked.

“y/n, do you really think this is a good idea—” before izuku could finish, you and bakugou launched yourselves at one another.

you charged forwards. an arrow flew from your hand, twisting its way right through the smoke of an explosion. when it cleared, bakugou was nowhere to be seen.

a gasp fell from your lips as you turned around just a little too late. your ears rang terribly as your back collided with the ground.

izuku cried out. green lightning flashed, and he was at your side in a moment. “kacchan!”

you groaned, sitting up. bakugou cut through the smoke with an arm. “fight me, damned nerd. there aren’t any pauses in a real fight.”

you wriggled yourself away from midoriya. “midoriya, you’re my enemy in this.”

“bu—”

“no buts. fight me. and don’t hold back.”

midoriya noted the determination in your eyes and stood, giving you a sure nod. you were back on your feet in a second. bakugou flew in the air and came crashing down just as fast as he conjured a blast in his right hand.

attacking wasn’t your best option right now. you were smart enough to know that. an arrow appeared flat at your back and pulled you from where bakugou was targeting.

cement flew into the air.

that blast could have wounded you badly. possibly killed you, if he’d hit the right spots.

in the air, you examined their zealous features. midoriya’s brows were furrowed in that determined smolder.

bakugou, as always, looked angry. as expected, he charged first, shooting himself into the air. his foot nearly collided with your face, missing my barely an inch. you took your shot, revealing the arrow you’d hidden behind your back. the tip collided with his chest.

you left the arrow to complete its command and stick your blonde opponent to the wall and trap him there while you went after midoriya.

while he bested you in strength, you did the same to him when it came to speed. you dodged his punches like they were weak attempts at hitting a ball in a park.

you grinned. in a battle of strength and speed, whoever landed the first hit would win. there was no question.

twisting in the air, you allowed the ball of your foot to shove midoriya to the ground. he cried out as his face was crushed into the cement.

it was perfect timing, as bakugou ripped free of your hold, the arrow keeping him in one spot dissolving into air as soon as its purpose was lost.

your head whipped around to see him charging for you.

your fingers curled. the headache pounding at your temples was beginning to get hard to ignore.

bakugou launched himself at you, spinning in the air like a missile. he really wasn’t going to howitzer you...right?

when he didn’t slow down, you threw your body to the right, the attack just barely missing your leg. it scorched a bit of your thigh. a groan fell from your lips as you cupped the area around the burn, shuddering with pain.

bakugou’s chest was puffed proudly as he marched up to you, hands cracking with excited explosions.

he pulled back his right arm, ready to spark up another fight as midoriya recollected himself. you bit your lip to hide the fact you were quivering.

it was sudden, but bakugou paused when he saw your hand fly up.

“give me a minute...” you gasped out, skin still sizzling.

“y/n! are you alright?”

you didn’t respond. midoriya smacked his friend’s arm. “kacchan! what’re you thinking?”

“midoriya, i’m fine. don’t stress over it.” you limped to your feet, rejecting the extended hand from your green-haired friend. “i’ll just go see recovery girl.”

“do you need—”

you smacked midoriya’s hand away, a little bit more rude than you intended it to be. “i’ll be...fine.” you offered a weak smile to hopefully make up for your tiny outburst.

although you could see in his eyes he wanted to help, midoriya nodded and stood by, hand falling back to his side. you clutched around the patch of burned skin. the sting had faded a bit, however there was a soreness to the wound that felt like a constant stabbing to your leg.

you swallowed the pain down, marching towards the exit with determination and a bit of a limp.

you looked back to see midoriya had gone off to tell mr. aizawa what was going on. your teacher nodded, understandingly.

there were a few worried glances and offers for help in the hall, but you’d neglected them all and found yourself relieved to see recovery girl in her office, typing away.

she turned as the door opened. “please knock beforehand next time—oh, dear. y/n? are you alright?”

you gave a tense nod. “mhm. just got a bit banged up in training today.”

the old woman pursed her lips, smile lines becoming evident. “i see.” she led you to the small cot reserved for patients such as yourself and directed you to sit down.

she examined the bruise. “it’s fairly bad. what happened?”

you made a gesture to the door. “i was brawling with bakugou and things got...intense.”

“that boy has quite an extreme side to him, as i’ve come to notice.”

“mhm,” you agreed.

“unfortunately, y/n, i have no ointments to be able to treat this properly.”

you nodded sheepishly before the old woman smooched your cheek. a soft green glow radiated around you.

when she pulled back, she said, “now, your body will be trying to catch up on the healing process. that’s what my quirk does. speed up recoveries. since it’s sped up, you’ll require some rest, preferably sleep. i’ll make sure your teachers know you’re excused for the rest of the day, sound good?”

“yes, thank you recovery girl.”

she pushed herself out of her rolling chair and left the room, smiling at you.

your eyes fluttered shut not long after that.

the sun was gone when you woke up, the hallway light flickering off.

“good, you’re awake.”

you looked to the left. you cried out, gathering the white sheets around yourself despite being completely clothed. “bakugou! what the hell? you stalker! you creep!”

bakugou took the slap you gave him on his arm. it was light, and didn’t do much damage.

“what...what do you want?”

even in the dark, you could tell bakugou’s cheeks were burning red. “about...about the other day. i wanted to talk to you about it.”

your chest fluttered in unwanted hope. “there’s nothing to talk about.”

“dammit, y/n, i wish there wasn’t anything to talk about. you’re insufferable and annoying and i can’t stand being around you because no matter what’s going on, you make my chest feel all funny. it’s stupid, and i can’t take my eyes off of you.”

heat rushed to your cheeks. “i’m flattered, really. but i-”

“i’m not asking you to reciprocate my shitty feelings. if anything, it’s better if you don’t.”

“bakugou, i wasn’t...” you paused.

“you what?” he snapped, voice soft despite his tone.

“i was going to say that ever since you...ever since you asked me out, i’ve been conflicted about my own feelings.”

“the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“i’m not sure if i like you back or not, bakugou. but hearing you say all this...makes me want to give it a shot. sort of. also, why the hell are you watching me sleep?”

bakugou swept hair from his eyes. “don’t go and try to change the subject on me, dumbass.”

you gulped.

“so what’re you saying?”

“i’m saying,” you started, “i’m saying that maybe i want to go out on that date with you.”

“say it again.”

“what?” you looked up, his eyes boring into yours.

“i said i want you to say it again. tell me you want to go out on a date with me.”

it startled you how sure he was when he knew what you wanted, too. this was unlike the last attempt to ask you out.

“katsuki bakugou, i want to go on a date with you.”

he grinned. “where to?”

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citrineghost · 3 years ago

Text

Avoiding Scams on Freelancing Sites

Hi there! I almost just got scammed today, and I’m going to take the LITTANY of red flags from this interaction and use it to teach you all about how to avoid scams.

I am not making very much money right now. I just lost one of the accounts I was writing for, so I am not not even making enough to pay my rent. So I am desperately looking for work. And, like many people desperately looking for work, my panicking subconscious is willing to see a red flag and brush it under the rug because

“I’m probably being paranoid.”

So, to all of my lovely artists, writers, editors, and other types of freelancers who are desperately looking for work, I would like to create a comprehensive list of things that you should NOT FUCKING IGNORE while looking for a job. Actually, the list will be formatted as things you should expect from your employer/interviewer and if these things are missing, get the fuck out of there.

1. Reputable Platforms

The first thing you should be expecting is to use reputable platforms. If you’re being asked for a virtual interview, you should expect your interviewer to invite you via Skype, Discord, (Maybe slack if they’re middle-aged), perhaps Whatsapp, or whatever website you’re using to find your job.

DO NOT go for interviews on Telegram. This app has been reported as very commonly being associated with scams. This is where my recent experience took place.

2. Willingness to Verify Legitimacy

The first thing you should do when being in contact with an interviewer or HR is ask them to verify their identity.

This may not be necessary if doing a video call with someone pictured on an official company website, receiving emails or texts from addresses/numbers that are listed on an official company website, or if the job you’re being interviewed for was applied to directly on the company website. In these cases, you are not likely to be scammed, as you’re working with verifiably information.

If you meet someone on Indeed, Fiverr, Upwork, or any other freelancing/job site, keep your contact within the website’s chat system, email system, or whatever. This is how you remain protected under the hiring site’s TOS/Legal whatever. If you get scammed because you took your hiring process elsewhere, they will not help you.

That being said, if you DO take your interview off the site, it should be somewhere reputable and you should ask for your interviewer to verify their identity before doing literally anything else. The best way to get them to verify their identity is to ask them to email or text you from an address or phone number listed clearly on the official company website, by asking them to show you their state ID and checking it for photoshop influence, or by asking to do a video call for the interview and seeing for yourself that you’re being interviewed by someone who is pictured on the official company website as an employee.

3. Clear and Professional Procedures

Any professional working as an interviewer or human resources personnel will have a skillset related to communication and organization. When being interviewed you should expect a number of questions about your skills and how you’re valuable to the company, etc. However, this is easy to fake, as a scammer. What you need to look out for is that they show a clear amount of structure.

If you’re asked for an interview, no real company will demand you be quick about responding. If they’re interested in an interview, a legitimate company is not likely to ask you to do the interview immediately. They will ask you to schedule an interview time with them. They may ask if you have availabilities that day, but they will not just start interviewing you immediately.

After the interview, any professional company will tell you that they will get back to you when they’ve made a decision about your interview. No professional company will tell you to wait for an indefinite amount of time while they talk to HR peers. If a company Does want you to wait, because they intend to make a quick decision, they will give you an expected wait time, as that is the courteous and professional thing to do. They will not expect you to be on-call for this period of time. A time projection is simply to give you an idea of what to expect. For example, “I’ll be in touch within the next 1-3 hours about the results of your interview. Thank you for your time.”

Furthermore, if you are accepted for a job, any professional company will make a clear outline of exactly how they plan to introduce you into company life. They will respect your time and ask you to schedule things with them. For example, “Is there a period of 2-3 hours within the next few days where you would be available for an orientation?”

No professional company will demand you do anything at any particular time. That is not how legitimate professionals treat new employees. You will be asked to schedule things with them. Even when you’re assigned work hours, if the exact hours you’re applying for are not listed in the job description you applied for, they will ask you to fill out some kind of time sheet to outline your availabilities, then schedule you for times within that outline.

4. Doesn’t Show Signs of Money Scamming

There are two major red flags when it comes to money scams. Your interviewer should never ask you what bank you use and your interviewer should never ever tell you they’re going to send you a check, unless they send your paycheck as a check.

One of the more common scams at the moment is run by people pretending to be members of legitimate companies, hiring freelancers for things like proofreading and editing. These remote positions may require home office hardware, right? The interviewer will tell you you’re missing some hardware and software that are required for the job. Then they’ll tell you that they will send a check that you can cash and use to buy the required materials.

This is even sketchier if they email you front and back images of the check and tell you to print it and then deposit it through mobile banking. The way this works is that, if you cash the check successfully, you will then buy the list of software, which is usually completely unrelated to the job you’re being hired for, then they will cancel the check, which hasn’t cleared completely. That leaves you with ~$2k dollars less in your bank and their money right back where it started in theirs. Presumably, the scammers are the ones selling the software. So, that $2k dollars you just spent is also going into their bank account.

Professional companies will never offer to send you checks to buy products. If they have official hardware or software that they want you to use, they will buy it themselves and then send it to you. There is never a reason why a new hire should buy hardware or software out of their own bank, whether they have been given money for it or not.

Furthermore, a legitimate company will never ever pay you before you have signed and sent your contract to them. One of the obvious giveaways of the scam I was almost caught in was that I was sent the contract last night and I asked if I could send it in today, since it was getting late. The interviewer agreed. I signed it in the morning and then asked him if I should send it in a reply to the email I got the original contract from or if there’s another email I need to send it to. He completely ignored my question, asked me how I was doing, and then went into the check-related information so I could buy software.

The issue was bothering me ALL DAY. I knew there was something extremely weird about that, so I asked again a few hours later. His response? “You have nothing to worry about.” ?????? I was aghast. I wasn’t worried at all! I just wanted an answer! If he had simply told me to respond to the email I’d gotten the contract from, I might have fallen for his scam! What a terrible scammer smdh

A Non-Exhaustive List of Other Red Flags

Your interviewer shows a poor grasp on the language

If your interviewer is making frequent grammatical errors that are glaringly obvious to any native speaker, that is a huge red flag. HR reps and interviewers are hired because of their communication skills. It is highly unlikely that someone who makes non-native-like errors is legitimate unless they are actually openly non-native, in which case, it’s not so alarming.

Your interviewer is showing impatience or demanding you at certain times

If your interviewer is telling you to “report back by 8am tomorrow” without any kind of prior agreement that this is an acceptable time for you to meet, that is extremely unprofessional and shows a lack of patience. Scammers want to get to the meat of their scam quickly and will use an air of professional superiority and authority to scare you into moving faster than necessary.

Your interviewer shows a lack of opening and closing statements

Along the lines of the clear processes that I mentioned above anybody who is initiating you in the job you’re taking should show clear opening and closing statements. What I mean by this is: professionals in human resources or management positions will not keep you as a social hostage. If you’ve been discussing how you’ll begin training or somesuch, they will not just leave you hanging. You should have a dedicated time slot where you will have your discussion and, at the end of it, your supervisor should make a closing statement. For example, “It looks like our time is running out for today. What would be a good time to pick this up tomorrow?”

If you feel like you are “on-call” and unable to leave the room because the interviewer or supervisor keeps messaging, has not outlined a time slot for you to talk in, won’t seem to let you go, or shows no indication of stopping, that is a really bad sign. Either the company is legitimate and TERRIBLE at professionalism (a great sign you should run anyway), or this is a scammer intent on getting you to follow their instructions as soon as they can.

Your interviewer ignores time zones or gets them wrong

When I was contacted about doing an interview yesterday, it was 4:30pm. I did the interview and was told I got the job. Immediately after, without asking if I was free, he began listing off instructions and things I was to expect. It wasn’t until 7:30pm that he sent me the contract and asked me to review it, sign it, and send it back that I finally asked if I could do that tomorrow. The interviewer was supposedly on the west coast and knew that I was on the east coast. He agreed by saying “Alright” and then told me to report to him “by 8am your time.”

There are 3 things about this that are weird. The first is that he demanded I show up at 8am to continue where we left off. Any professional would have asked when I’m available the next day to continue. the second is that he said “your time” instead of saying EST, as most professionals in the US would be apt to do. And, lastly, I showed up at 7:50am, ready to continue, because I’m that desperate that I’m willing to be pushed around, and he showed up at 9am on the dot. He had gotten the time wrong. Nobody who works professionally on the west coast is incapable of adding 3 hours to their time. It was a rookie mistake, or a mistake made by someone in a completely different time zone than they say they are.

When asked to verify their identity, your interviewer attempts to reassure you or refuses

When I finally was fed up and knew this must be a scam, I politely asked my interviewer to verify his identity by either showing me his US ID or by contacting me from his email or phone number listed on the official company website. He sent me a photoshopped nametag with a completely different person’s name and photo on it and said it was the company ID of the HR director.

I have never seen a facade fall so pathetically. Why would literally any even remotely legitimate person do such a thing? It was sad, really. He deleted the message in less than a minute - no doubt to keep me from looking at it long enough to see how badly it was photoshopped - and then aggressively reassured me that the company meant me no harm and would pay for everything, etc. Any real professional would have simply sent me an email from the legitimate address, stating that they’re legitimate, and then continued on with the initiation process.

Learn from My Mistakes

I hope some of this was helpful for all of you lovely freelancers trying to find work. I thought I would know a scam when I saw one, and I did have a Bad Feeling about this whole thing, because it did feel too good to be true, but I was desperate enough that my judgement was heavily clouded, and that could happen to anyone.

Don’t ignore red flags - especially these ones. Stick up for yourself. Avoid confirmation bias. I looked things up repeatedly to confirm that the company was legitimate and that it’s normal to do things like mobile deposit a printed check and so on. Every time, I found an explanation that suited me. I even tried to cash the check. The only reason it didn’t work was because there was an error with the name on the check because I recently legally changed my name and PayPal was having some kind of issue updating in some areas of its website. It was after that that I realized this was all crashing down and I needed to reassess it all. Don’t let yourself get that deep into it.

#job hunting #job #interview #hiring #scams #advice #psa #important #upwork #freelancing #writing #writeblr #editing #ghostpost

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a-jynx · 3 years ago

Text

Expensive Taste

Excerpt; Gambling with your past is bound to piss you off...

Warnings; Strong language, drunks, threats, blood/broken bones, hint of sexual tension(?), tell me if I missed any warnings!

Pairing; Quackity x reader, female pronouns

[ Male vers. / GN vers. ] [ Part 2 ]

a/n; I hope you guys enjoy it, this was a lot of fun to write! And biggest thank you to @kxrmitty for editing this for me! <3

~~~~

“So, what happened this time?” Foolish sighed, walking alongside Karl and Sapnap. Karl nervously giggled.

“I wasn’t, uh... I wasn’t paying attention and a creeper snuck up on me.” He sheepishly grinned, rubbing the back of his neck as Sapnap snickered, growing quiet as Karl elbowed him. “I’m sorry about taking so much of your time, Foolish. I’ll pay you handsomely though!” The curly-haired man flashed a toothy grin, making Foolish chuckle.

“No, no it’s alright! Besides, I needed to come and speak to you all about the cherry blossoms you wanted added in,” the tall God trailed, motioning for the pair to follow. “I was thinking about adding some further out - y’know showing where the land could begin,” his voice trailed as the wind blew up, causing Sapnap to squint before watching as a crumpled sheet tumbled from Foolish’s pocket. The Blazeborn scooped it up, straightening it out before calling out. “Hey! Foolish! You lost-'' his voice died as he scanned across the sheet, his brows creased as he slid his thumb across the bold, red letters “Las Nevadas'', followed by smaller black letters, “meet tonight’s main entertainment that is sure to rock your world!” His lip turned into a frown as he glared at the dull white, focusing on the letters at the bottom signed BQ.

“Las Nevadas..? BQ..? Oh, shit-” he quickly crumpled the flyer into his own pocket, rushing towards his fiancé and friend. “Karl, I’ll be back! I forgot I needed to go help George with something!” The raven-haired man rambled off, pressing a quick kiss to the brunettes’ cheek before retreating backward and giving a quick wave as the two watched him disappear before returning to their conversation.

“Is Sap always that… Rushed?” Foolish snickered, looking back to Karl who frowned, his brows knit tightly together. “Karl? You alright?” The totem God asked, patting the brunette’s shoulder making him jump.

“Hm? Oh, uh, yeah! Yeah, I’m fine! Let’s get this finished and get to work on those cherry blossoms!” Karl grinned, moving ahead of Foolish, who quickly followed and yet hadn’t seen the look of hurt flash across the fiancé's face.

~~~~

“So, this is where you’ve been hiding..” Sapnap huffed as he stood in front of the towering entrance. Black stone and quartz stood tall as he moved closer, eyes glazing over each block, each light, each flyer that looked identical to the one he retrieved. The bright neons flickering and buzzing with life, even in the late afternoon sun, welcoming him even with the eerie feeling breathing down the back of his neck.

Striding up the steps, he watched as other patrons followed through the large doors. Excitement and sudden thrill-filled his veins as Sap was pushed and maneuvered into the chilled foyer. People pushed and shoved around him, taking off towards the games or towards the sitting areas where a few girls walked through, their clothes bright and alluring while shimmering from the pulsating lights. It felt like a dream..

“First time?” A soft voice called over the roar of the crowd, catching Sapnap’s attention quickly as he moved towards the desk.

“Uh, something like that.. What the hell is this place?” He laughed, shock evident in the wispy breath.

Niki smiled, sitting up more as she flicked some of her pink hair out of her eyes while turning towards the crowded floor. “Las Nevadas is a country that Quackity made, he made this for people to come in and just leave reality for a little bit. He built this place to be safe- no judgment, but no idiocy either. The Casino is one of the biggest organizations right now and I know Mr. Quackity has some big plans for Las Nevadas, so I’m excited to be a part of it.” She explained, tilting her head back towards Sapnap as he blinked.

“He built this?” He blinked again, a huff passing his lips. “Like - Like Big Q, our Quackity, built this place? Not just this, but an entire country?” He flabbergasted, causing Niki to curiously glance at him.

“Well, he wanted to make a good place? I mean from what I’ve learned about Mr. Quackity’s past, he deserves this.. I mean, he’s worked hard! He deserves the happiness returned after giving so much for others to feel happy, don’t you agree, Sapnap?” She flashed her teeth, the small bits of glitter shimmering and shining on her cheeks and nose as he gulped, flashing a quick grin back.

“Everyone deserves happiness, sure, but.. Should it really be at the expense of the people he loves the most?” He scoffed as Niki knitted her brows together, leaning onto the desk as Sapnap frowned.

“I believe you mean loved - past tense, Mr. Halo.” She grit, shifting to sit back down with a huff. “His office is up the stairs and down the hall, I don’t think you’ll miss it.”

Sapnap glared for a moment before moving towards the hallway and disappearing into the neon basked way. Perhaps he’d get answers, or perhaps it’ll be even more heartache…

~~~~

The dark oak door came into view, the fluorescent neons highlighting the cracks and dents as he gulped, feeling the sweat build-up and trickle down from his forehead. Standing there, he frowned as he heard voices coming from inside, the commotion getting louder with every second passing.

“Sir, just give us a few more weeks-” A voice quivered as two laughed, one causing flashbacks to a sweeter, easier time and the other causing a shift in Sapnap’s gut.

“I have given you an extra three weeks! I think that’s plenty of time to make up your side of the bargain.” The second voice coughed, yet you could hear the snarled grin behind it. Sap leaned closer towards the door, lifting his hand and wrapping it against the dark oak. Pushing it open as the room goes silent for a moment.

“Uh.. Hope I’m not interrupting?” Sapnap coughed, standing in the doorway as Quackity cleared his throat, standing from his desk with a crooked smile.

“Sapnap Halo! Long time, no see.. And allow me to finish this up and we can visit.” Big Q sapped, clicking his tongue as he turned his attention back towards the quivering man. “If you’re not willing to meet my demands, then I’m no longer in charge of what he commits..” The scarred man sneered, leaning against his palms as the man shook.

“Sir, please I just need-” a hand shot up, silencing him.

“You’ve had enough time. I’ve given you enough time. I have no control over what he chooses to do with your town, Mayor Liek.” Quackity chuckled, a maddening grin splitting across his face as Sapnap frowned, taking a step back.

“I can come back later-”

“No. He was just leaving.” Big Q grit, his eyes shift towards Punz, who steps out of the corner. “Punz. Escort him to the foyer, I’m afraid he’d get… Distracted.” Punz’s lips split into a grin as he stepped towards the man, clasping a hand on his shaking shoulder before dragging him out of the dark oak chair.

“Of course, Q.. Wouldn’t want him to get lost among these walls.” The blonde snickered, tugging the Mayor towards the door before shoving past Sapnap, flashing the bandana wearer a toothy yet sickening smile. Sapnap stood there, shock evident on his face as he watched the doors close behind Punz. He turned his head back towards Quackity, who settled back into the large leather seat, his hands folded in front of him.

“Sap, please sit.”

“Uh, nice place you got here..” Sap gulps, his gaze continuingly shifting around the room, taking in the pulsing neon lights, the dark oak desk that the dark-headed man sat, and two large windows behind him, showing off the casino floor and it’s patrons.

Quackity breaks into a sly grin. “Thanks, it, uh… It cost me some pretty rings.” Sapnap’s gaze moved back towards his ex, his brows furrowing. His eyes snapped towards Quackity’s left hand, eyes widened at the sight of ring-shaped tan lines.

“What?” He barely uttered, his fingernails curling into the dark oak chairs’ arms. His lips curled into a snarl. Quackity frowned, standing with the roll of his eyes. He stepped around the desk, his fingers grazing the few glossy playing cards on top. “Listen, an.. Extravagant life like this?” Quackity gestured around them, breaking into a large, prideful grin. “It doesn’t come cheap.”

“So, you - you sold our engagement rings?! Are you fucking serious, Big Q?” Sapnap snapped, standing abruptly. Quackity’s smile fell, his hands falling to his sides.

“Why would I want to keep memories of the people who abandoned their own fiance?! You must be living in fucking paradise, pal, because the moment you began construction for Kinoko was the day you chose I meant nothing.. Why would I want to remember that?”

Sapnap stared at him, eyes wide and lips parted before scoffing. “Who the fuck said you meant nothing to us - let me remind you, you walked out on US.”

Quackity squinted his good eye, tsking. “I was making this for us. I was making somewhere safe for our futures together and you assumed I left before I was even gone.” Silence swelled over them, each daring for the other to continue their verbal assault. Sapnap’s mouth opened, only to shut when the doors slammed open revealing a disordered Punz. He gulped loudly before straightening up, running a hand through his blonde hair.

“We have a situation.”

~~~~

“Sir, please,” Charlie sighed, rubbing a napkin across his forehead as he glanced down at the multi-colored cards sitting in his green, shaky hand. “The private dances are to be made upfront at the receptionist desk. You can pay forward and ask Niki, the said receptionist, to call upon the girl of your request.”

“Well, I’m requesting the one right there,” the drunkard slurred towards the girl on the stage. Her hips moving to the upbeat, organ-moving music thumping through the surround sound speakers. Glittering eyes darted towards the pair with a sneer, glossed lips pulling into a pout. Strutting around the metallic pole, she clicked her tongue before wrapping her dominant leg around, keeping a loose grip as she spun, her eyes catching on the pair below her.

“Sir, I understand that you want to request her, however, she’s not available for private dances,” Charlie uttered, clearing his throat. The burly man coughed out a laugh, suddenly leaning into Charlie’s space, flashing his gnarled teeth before spitting. “I can’t understand you when you mutter.”

Charlie flinched as the saliva landed on his face. He cleared his throat, using his napkin to wipe away the alcohol-stained spit. “My apologies, sir,” The slime kin spoke. “What I said was she’s not taking private fucking dances.”

The man flashed a mean grin, his hand shooting out towards Charlie’s collar, wrapping it into a tight fist and lifting him to where his shoes barely grazed the carpet. Charlie’s slimy hand shot out, wrapping around his assaulter's wrist as a whimper left his quivering lips. The man’s unoccupied hand raised as if to strike Charlie before a voice above them called out.

“Excuse me,” the dancer chimed, towering over the two males with a fierce grin. “Can you pretty please drop my little slime?” The man scoffed, dropping Charlie to the carpet with a grunt.

“Oh, so the little whore DOES have a voice! How intriguing.” The man laughed, stepping over Charlie’s trembling body, leaning against the stage where his dollar bills still laid. He reached out to scoop up the ones closest before a glittering maroon heel stamped into the top of his wrist, trapping it against the polished black stone stage. The man cried out, his free hand snatching her ankle, glaring up. “You little bitch! I’ll fucking kill you!”

She furrowed her brows, clicking her tongue before glancing around the casino floor - everyone was watching. Her eyes darted down to the hand on her ankle before shooting back up to his beat red and sweltering face; she scoffed.

“I could say the same about you.” Yanking her leg free before rearing back and slamming her heel into his nose, blood splattering onto the dollar bills and the finely polished stone. “Next time, I’ll charge you extra for wasting my time.”

~~~~

“There’s a situation on the floor,” Punz murmured as Quackity sighed, glancing back at Sapnap, who had yet to leave, before turning back to Punz.

“How bad is it?”

“Blood was spilled.” Quackity’s eyes widened, sneering. “Fuck.. Alright, Sapnap, you need to leave. I have some business to attend to. Don’t let the door kick you on the way out.” He waved off his raven-haired ex before quickly following his second-in-command down the hallway. Sapnap grew wide-eyed only to race after them, quick to complain.

“Like hell, I’m leaving! I don’t care what kind of business you have, Quackity. We’re not done discussing-” he stopped as both the males ahead stopped and turned towards him, causing him to sputter.

“We have nothing else to discuss, Halo.” Quackity spat, staring at his ex - the one who promised him the best future. A future of love, compassion, and safety. He was left to pick himself up and put himself back together. He stared, and stared, and stared before turning and continuing down the hallway. Punz stood there watching Sap for a moment before following after Quackity, this allowing Sapnap to silently yet swiftly follow behind the pair.

Quackity strode across the floor to meet with Purpled and Charlie to discuss the events that took place. His eyes landed on Charlie, who looked shaken up, Purpled offering him a drink. “What the fuck happened.” He sighed as the pair looked at Big Q and his right hand, along with the tail.

“Ace got into a fight-”

“I fucked up and Ace stepped in,” Charlie quickly jumped in, sniffling as Quackity frowned.

“How’d you fuck up, Big C?” He asked carefully, lips twitching into a frown as he squatted down to meet Charlie’s eyes.

“I.. I read the card! I read it just like you and Niki showed me, but he - well, the guy didn’t like that and I think he drank too much and he - he was an angry drunk..”

“C, you’re monologuing..”

“Sorry.. He grabbed me and tried to hit me, but Ace stepped in..” Charlie sighed, shifting his attention to the floor as Quackity nodded, standing straight before glancing at Punz.

“Where’s the dickhead?”

“Already taken care of. Waiting for a private session with Big F.” Punz snickered as Big Q nodded, grinning slightly as they looked up to meet the glimmering eyes of Ace herself.

They both nodded towards her as she stepped into the booth, tossing a bloodied tissue onto the tables’ plastic cover before scoffing. “I need new heels now.” She grits through her teeth, crossing her arms over her bust.

“Of course, Princesa, anything for our main attraction.” Quackity clicked his tongue, grazing his fingers across her bare shoulder before resting at the base of her neck; a comforting touch. She grinned, her lips sparkling under the lights. She reached a handover, resting it on top of Charlie’s with a gentle pat.

“Are you alright, Lil Slime?” She whispered, giving his slimy hand a firm squeeze as he shot her a comforting smile.

“I’m okay, thanks to you, Ace.” His toothy grin caused her to smile widely, gently leaning forward and pressing her stained red lips onto the back of his hand. “We’re a family, Slimy! We’ve got to look out for one another.”

Quackity’s fingertips scraped up her shoulder, reaching up and tucking a loose hair behind her ear, his finger catching the dazzling earring and watching it glitter. “So, Mi Carina.. How loud was the crunch of his bone beneath your heel?” His bottom lip caught between his teeth as she turned towards him, a shit-eating grin spreading across her lips.

“You should’ve heard it, Quackity! I think I scared Purpled.”

“Because you did, Sparky,” Purpled scoffed, knocking a rag into the bloodied tissue and into the bin in his hand. “And Big F is gonna have your head for that blood on his stage - y’know he doesn’t like spilled blood.”

“Well, security should’ve been on the floor,” Ace sang in a sing-song voice, as Punz snorted before stepping around Sapnap, who blinked at the group, his gut twisting as he watched the exchanges.

“I had my best guys on the floor! Besides, I was helping the Bossman.” He spat, no real threat behind it as he moved to lean against the wall next to the booth. Sapnap took a step closer, causing them to shift their gaze to him.

“And whose loudmouth?” Ace snorted, followed by Charlie, Punz, and Quackity with their own chuckles.

“Uh, Amada this is-”

“Quackity, I didn’t come here to meet your side piece or whoever this fucking is,” Sapnap spat, stepping closer and leaning onto the table, making Purpled and Charlie glance at each other, Punz’s brows furrowed as Quackity grew quiet, holding his gaze with the black-eyed Blazeborn.

“I came here to talk about us. And I’d rather not discuss any of this in… Mixed company.” Sap finished his piece, straightening his stance as Quackity stood, his lips pressed into a crease.

“Like I said before, Halo,” he spat the man’s last name, bumping their chest together as Sapnap’s mouth curled into a frown. “We have nothing to discuss. There is no us, and obviously, there never was an us. And this ‘mixed company’, is the best thing that’s happened to me, and if you, or anyone for that matter, tries to come in here and ruin that?” Quackity snorted, leaning close and pressing the pads of his fingers into Sap’s shoulder and shoving him back. “I’m not responsible for you not returning to your little kingdom.”

Sap stepped back, sneering at Quackity while glancing at the others - they all shared the same confident stare. Huffing, he licked his lips before nodding, coughing out a laugh. “I don’t even recognize you, Quackity.” Punz suddenly snickered, causing Sap to turn towards him with a frown. “What the hell are you laughing at, Blondie.”

Punz coughed, halting his laughter before pushing off the wall, now moving closer as Quackity took a step back, holding a smirk of his own.

“I’m laughing because you don’t recognize someone else and, yet, you’re going after an ex. I mean, it’s a little funny, along with a little sad, Sap.” The blonde grinned as he took a step towards Quackity, as Sapnap frowned. “What the hell are you talking about Punz?”

A scoff came from behind the two, making Sap move to look around them as Ace scooted out of the booth, standing beside Quackity whilst shaking her head. “I think you’re right, P.. I think someone’s memory is being influenced by his fiance.”

“How the hell-”

“What? Don’t remember me? That’s a little harsh, Sappy! Bad wouldn’t be happy about this one.” She giggled, leaning further into Quackity as Sap’s eyes grew wide before shooting towards her collarbone. A gnarly and pale scar sat across the thin skin, standing out from her soft tone. An accident that happened back in the Nether - he hadn’t meant to hurt her.

“Y/N..?” His voice was barely about a whisper, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as she shot him a short, soft smile. Taking a step towards him, he suddenly stepped back, his face retorting into one of disgust. “What the fuck happened to you? You.. Oh, God, you look like a whore-”

“Sapnap,” Both Quackity and Punz growled as Y/N shook her head, taking a step closer with a smile.

“I may look like a whore, but at least I’m a loyal one.” She spat, turning back towards the two men as Sapnap arched a brow, scoffing.

“What the hell is that supposed to..” His voice trailed, his eyes switching between both Big Q and his sister. She pressed herself into his side, wrapping her arms around Quackity’s shoulders with an award-winning smile. “Mean… Are - Are you fucking dating my ex-fiance?!”

Y/N broke into a small grin, leaning close to Quackity’s side and pressing a chaste kiss to his scared lips, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist, keeping her pressed against him as she spoke, “well, Dad always said I had… Better and more expensive taste, Sappy.”

~~~~

Tags: @aphroditeandvenus-blog, @paintingportrait, @sourdoughnoodles, @mult1xtr1nna, @trashpiegon, @trixyvixen, @sxturn-0, @thescoutsb13tch, @banghaydencoven, @707xn, @supernaturalboi, @basementfloorfeelings, @june-x-boi, @aloookay,@dreamzluvrr, @theforestcryptid926, @fantasticpurseturtleknight, @cheesysin, @kxrmitty, @socially-blue, @excuijme, @lonley-nightmare, @kittenachu, @alleyesonmendes, @itsoakaa, @saifukus, @alec-lost-bee, @nattsaa, @dayanavmb, @boiciph3r, @leenthepanda, @0a-little-bit-of-everything0, @howdycharlie, @joinotfound, @coreys-riffin, @fa1ryclouds, @honeyimluctus, @tittylover6000, @noctis-yeye, @kiritokunuwu, @novelist2, @sn3k-was-here, @traumatizedladybug, @weepinghollywoodatsupernatural,

a/n; I hope you guys liked it, i have more ideas for this fic to possibly continue so let me know if that’s something you’d like to see! Requests are open as of now and I will hopefully be posting more hc’s/ imagines later on!

Until tomorrow, I hope you have a beautiful day! ~ J

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